The Highwayman's Bride

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The Highwayman's Bride Page 11

by Beckenham Jane


  “No game, simply reinforcing my rule.”

  “Rule? You threatened to oust me unless I married you. I would have thought that was enough.”

  “No. It is not.”

  Aiden pushed his plate away. “I’m tired, Tess. I rode all night with little results or sleep, and when I came home, you, my dear wife, would not even let me reside in my own chamber. What else do you want?”

  “If you want sympathy from me for your nightly escapades, then you are sadly looking in the wrong direction. You will get none. And unless you curb your nocturnal sojourns, neither will you come near me in the…ah bedchamber, or even kiss me, Lord Charnley. Not while you’re roaming the highways for ill-gotten gain.”

  Tess witnessed his shock, his pupils blackened coal. His jaw tightened, the pulse there visibly throbbing.

  He pushed away from the table and stood. “As you wish. We leave for Charnley in one hour. Be ready.”

  Chapter Nine

  A new dawn

  A new life

  Beware of what you wish for.

  Mirabelle’s Musings

  December 1813

  Aiden didn’t utter a word the entire journey to Charnley, and Tess chose not to ask him one question, despite there being many on the tip of her tongue.

  How long were they staying?

  What would be expected of her?

  And was he heading out on the road again?

  But mostly…why did he take such risks? Was he in such dire financial straits that he was forced to rob strangers?

  With no answers, Tess settled back, realizing that whatever Aiden’s answers were, they did not really matter, because she would not be staying long.

  At least now she had a soupçon of control over her destiny. She had chosen whom to marry. Now, time was all she needed. Time to plan her next move. And then leave.

  They stopped once to rest the horses and take light refreshments at an inn. Finally, as dusk fell and a white mist rose up from the chilled earth, the horses slowed as the driver turned into the entrance of a long driveway.

  Aiden drew the blackout curtain aside. “Welcome to Charnley Hall.”

  Though the gentling darkness precluded much, Tess gazed across the unfolding view of her new home. She turned to Aiden. His eyes were downcast, the fine lines at the corners and mouth now deeper and his pallor grayed. Even his voice hinted at his exhaustion.

  “You need to sleep.”

  His mouth thinned, and he emitted a derisive snort. “Sleep, my dear wife, is an overrated commodity.”

  Part of her wanted to be angry with him. The other part admitted an inkling of sympathy. To do what you know is wrong, but feel forced for whatever reason, took a strong will.

  “Is it so imperative you roam the roads every night? Are you so impoverished you must steal?”

  “You think I…Charnley Hall is flourishing. It is a sizeable property—several hundred acres, in fact. We’ve hunting, a good climate for farming and crops. The village is wealthy by most standards. My lands are lucky to be slightly above the lowlands of the estuary and the soil is fertile and profitable.”

  “What am I to do here?”

  Aiden hesitated, looking at her as if her question confused him. “What had you intended to do once you’d escaped Luther’s clutches?”

  “I wanted a small cottage with a garden to nurture perhaps.”

  “Well, I can offer you that. Charnley dates back more than several hundred years, and our gardens are extensive. My mother loved her garden; her potager was renowned in the area for providing whatever medicinal plants were required, though you might need to wait until the thaw.”

  “If your home is so prosperous why do you take to the roads?”

  Aiden eased back in his seat, sliding the palms of his hands down his legs. “That, sweet Tess,” he said, fixing her with a hard stare, “is a question I’m not prepared to answer.”

  The carriage drew to a halt, the horses stomping a few times as the driver steadied them. Aiden elbowed open the door and stepped down, turning to hold out a hand to her.

  “Welcome to your new home, my dear.”

  Tess stepped down to a blaze of candlelight flickering from the house’s multi-windowed façade. “You may not be bankrupted yet, husband, but if you allow your staff to waste as much candle as burns tonight, then you’ll be in the pauper’s house before long.”

  Aiden stiffened. “’Tis Mary,” he said with a whisper. “She does not like the darkness.”

  “Mary?”

  “My sister. She is…”

  A small boy came running out of the house. “You are here. You came back.”

  Shock blasted across Aiden’s expression and he jerked backward. “What are you doing here?”

  “Aunt Mary told me you were coming. I waited up. I’ve waited so long. She says you go on adventures and ride a big horse. I want to ride. Will you teach me?”

  “Stop! That is enough.”

  The boy’s monologue stalled as if ice water had been tossed over him. He stared wide-eyed at Aiden and his mouth quivered.

  “Get inside. You should not be out of your nursery at this hour.”

  “But—”

  “Do as you are told. I will not have—”

  “Alexander, Alexander.” A woman bustled out of the house and down the wide marble steps. She scooped up the child, who buried his head into her shoulder with a loud hiccupping sob.

  “Unless you can control your charge with better efficiency, Miss Sloane, you may be required to seek placement elsewhere.”

  The woman bobbed a curtsy, still clutching the child to her chest. “He saw your carriage arrive and became excited.”

  “He needs to know his place.”

  Tess listened to the exchange, shocked at Aiden’s harshness toward a small child. This needed to stop. “Excuse me,” she said, forcing a smile. She reached out and touched Aiden’s sleeve.

  A mistake. His muscles flexed beneath her touch, a jolt of heat burning the tips of her fingers.

  “It is mortally cold. I think we need to move inside, and this young man,” she said, offering the boy a soft smile, “needs to go to his bed. It is very late, Alexander.”

  The young boy twisted in his nanny’s arms. “Who are you?”

  Tess momentarily switched her gaze to look at Aiden. His expression remained rigid, eyes dark and narrowed. She turned back to the young boy. “I’m his Lordship’s new wife.”

  A gasp burst from the nanny. “Oh, m’lady.” She bobbed a curtsy. “No one told us his Lordship was bringing home a wife.”

  “No,” she said with a tired smile, “I suppose they did not. Now,” she said, bringing her cloak closer to ward off the chill of the December eve, though the icy bearing of her husband could have frozen the devil himself. “I think a hot chocolate is in order, do you not, Alexander?”

  Delight evaporated the boy’s misery. “For me?”

  “Definitely. And perhaps one for nanny too and if his lordship behaves himself, he can have one with extra sugar.”

  A childish giggle ruffled from the boy’s chest. The nanny stood back, allowing Tess to enter the house that was to be her new home.

  For a while, Tess. Remember it’s not permanent.

  Once inside, she tipped back the hood of her cloak, unclipping it.

  A hand brushed her shoulder, startling her for a second, as she knew that touch. Recognized it in a heartbeat.

  Aiden.

  “You seem to have taken to the role of lady of the house rather quickly.”

  “I’m sorry if I overstepped,” she said, turning to face him as he drew her cloak off her shoulders.

  His mouth was set in a grim line, exhaustion marking every aspect of his tall frame.

  “Who was that boy?”

  “Nobody.” Aiden tossed her cloak onto a nearby chair.

  “But—”

  “Don’t meddle, Tess.”

  “He is but a child.”

  “And not your concern.�


  Just then a man rushed forward, tugging at his waistcoat. “M’lord, we weren’t expecting you tonight.” Obviously flustered, the butler cast her a glance.

  Tess stepped forward. She would not let Aiden Masters tell her what to do. That was not his right. Not in this marriage! Holding out her hand, she offered the man a smile. “I’m Tess Stanhope.”

  “Correction, my dear. Barlow, I’d like to introduce you to Tess, Countess of Charnley, my wife.”

  The man’s jaw dropped and though he quickly recovered and bowed slightly, Tess noticed his struggle to hide his surprise.

  “We are both tired from our travels, Barlow.”

  “Would you like a meal sent up, m’lord?”

  Aiden glanced at Tess.

  “I’m not hungry, but I have promised the young boy and his nanny a hot chocolate. Perhaps you could arrange for it to be sent up to them.”

  Barlow’s mouth twitched, but he said nothing, simply nodded.

  “Would you like to bathe, Tess?”

  Her cheeks heated. “No, tomorrow will be suitable. I need to sleep.”

  “Then a bath for me, Barlow, if you please.”

  Aiden held out his arm to her. “Shall we retire, my love?”

  For a single breath Tess simply stared at his arm as if it were a snake. But with Barlow watching, his curiosity piqued, Aiden had left her no option. She linked her arm with Aiden’s, his free hand resting over hers. His touch was warm. Delicious. And it was not the first time such heat had passed between them. What was this strange reaction?

  Desire?

  Uncomfortable with the way her body reacted every time Aiden was close, every time he touched her, Tess swallowed back that thought.

  One step up the staircase, however, and he halted, turning back to Barlow who hovered in the foyer. “You may extinguish the candles now I’m home. Mary is safe.” He glanced at her. “And besides, I would not want to end up in the poorhouse,” he said with a wink in her direction.

  Her cheeks colored and she dragged her gaze from his, though to douse the flutter in her heart or the excitement curling in her belly proved increasingly impossible.

  At the top of the stairs he drew her along a wide corridor toward a set of closed double doors and with a flourish opened them and stood back. “Our boudoir awaits, sweet Tess.”

  Indecision warred, her mind racing. “Are you not roaming the byways this eve?” she asked.

  His mouth curved upward, delineating the dimples on either side of his mouth, and she swallowed back the sudden flood of tempting desire.

  Last night she had been able to lock him out.

  Tonight?

  “We are newlyweds; we need to present a picture of perfect harmony.”

  Her throat seemed to have closed over, her breathing shallow. “We are nothing of the kind.”

  “We had this conversation last eve. To those out there, we are. Nothing has changed, Tess.” Aiden closed the door behind them and except for the thunder of her heartbeat, silence surrounded them.

  Tess refused to look at him and walked to the window. Darkness and an eddying mist cloaked the landscape, the towering poplars lining the driveway barely discernible. She trailed a finger down the chilly windowpane, wishing she could quench her sense of uncertainty.

  “Tess?”

  Aiden’s quiet voice seeped into her subconscious and she turned from the shadowed landscape to face her husband. He had removed his jacket and neckcloth and pulled his shirt loose from his trousers, unbuttoning it to his waist.

  A gasp expunged from her lungs as she fixed her gaze on the jagged scar that ran from Aiden’s right shoulder and across his collarbone to just above his breastbone.

  His mouth quirked at her attention. “The perils of war, I’m afraid,” he said with a shrug, “but thankfully not fatal, as was the wound received by the man who inflicted it.”

  Tess couldn’t take her eyes off the puckered flesh.

  “Did you think I received this as a result of my nightly escapades?” For the first time in what seemed days, his eyes once again lit with humor. “Sorry to disappoint your adventurous melodramatics, my love, but war, and not the hazards of the highway, was its origin.”

  A knock interrupted.

  “Come in.”

  The door opened and two footmen entered carrying a large tub, along with several maids with extra tin jugs of steaming hot water, and their luggage.

  They arrived in silence and left the same way, though Tess noticed the sly looks cast in her direction.

  Left alone again, her nerves worsened as Aiden stripped off his shirt. “What are you doing?”

  The shirt fell to the floor at his feet. “Bathing.” He sat on a chair close by, tugging off one boot, then the other, his hose following. Standing up, he reached for the buttons of his trousers and her heart skipped several beats.

  “Stop! You can’t.”

  His hands fell to his sides. “I’m tired, Tess. I’ve ridden all night and my body aches in places I’ve forgotten existed.”

  Desperate to stop him, or not look at him, though she wanted to greatly, she spied a lacquered screen to one side of the fireplace. “Place that in front of the tub,” she said, waving to the carved oriental screen.

  His brows rose as he looked at her. “And here I was thinking you might want to scrub my back.”

  “You thought wrong.” But to her humiliation she had thought it.

  “Shame. Such intimacy for newlyweds.”

  “And you need to remember, my lord, that we are married in name only.”

  “And yet we share a room.”

  “For…the act,” she said, tossing a hand skyward. “It is all an act.” Was it really? Her body seemed to think otherwise.

  Chuckling, Aiden reached for the screen nevertheless, and positioned it in place. Moments later, Tess heard the water splash against the tub as he descended into the steaming bath.

  Her mouth dried, lips suddenly parched, and she sank down on the side of the bed, listening for every nuance. The water. The sound of soap lathering across his skin. She imagined caressing his scar. Across his naked body.

  Oh, dear Lord, what was she doing…thinking. Springing to her feet, she reached for one of her small valises and wrenched it open, digging through the few clothes she’d packed. She found a nightgown.

  “You want my help again tonight, Tess?”

  The sound of Aiden’s voice halted her movements. “No. No. I can manage.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Her throat closed over. “I am,” she croaked. “I have a different gown today, the fastenings…” Her voice faded as Aiden’s rumbling laughter reached from behind the screen.

  “Good thinking, otherwise you might have had to ask me again.”

  She hurried to extricate herself from her traveling gown and into her nightwear before Aiden finished his bath, then pulled back the heavy coverlet and scrambled into bed. Moments later, he walked from the other side of the screen.

  He wore a clean pair of trews—but that was all. Water droplets trailed down his torso and beneath the flicker of candlelight she spied the golden spiral of hair glistening across his chest and tapering down to the waistband of his trews.

  Tess tried to swallow—and failed. Desire spiraled through her veins to the tips of her toes and back up, heating her cheeks to a burning scarlet.

  “Do not move another inch closer, my lord.”

  “I need sleep, Tess.”

  “Then take the floor.”

  One dark brow arched. “I think we’ve been down this road before.”

  Her lips pursed. “I believe I slept in a chair that night.”

  “If you wish to do so again, be my guest.” He waved toward the same chair he’d sat in to remove his boots.

  Tess pulled the covers higher.

  “No? I did not think so.” He pulled the covers back. “I do not intend to sleep anywhere other than my bed this night.” The bed dipped beneath his weight as he climbed in
.

  Tess shifted to the edge of the bed. “But you are…are naked.”

  “Hardly. I have trews on, which is more than I have done for years. You should thank me for protecting your sensibilities.”

  In seconds, Aiden had snuffed out the candles, leaving the room cloaked in darkness.

  Tess could feel him close. His heat. Hear his slow breathing. She dared not move, or think, or feel, because to do so would tempt her beyond her ability to resist.

  Within minutes, however, she realized Aiden slept, while she lay wide-awake and far too aware of him lying next to her.

  In one week her life had changed beyond measure and for some reason the ancient Greek tales she had eagerly read came to mind. King Midas had been granted the wish to turn everything he touched into gold, which proved a disaster when even his food turned golden.

  Perhaps there was a lesson to be learned.

  Beware of what you wish for, Tess.

  …

  Tess woke with a start and scampered back across the bed as dark, watchful eyes loomed before her. “Whaaat?”

  “You asleep?”

  “Alexander, what are you doing here?” Reaching behind her, her hand felt nothing. Not a warm body, nor did the coverings retain any warmth. It seemed her husband had left the marital bed a long time ago.

  Tess shook her head, trying to dislodge the sudden thrust of disappointment. Had she expected Aiden to be there? But more importantly, why had she wanted him to be there?

  “Papa went out riding.”

  “Papa?” Brows beetled, she struggled to clear the fog in her brain.

  “He rides a lot.”

  “Who?”

  “My papa. Aunt Mary said he chases down bad men.”

  Aunt…Clarity dawned with brutal honesty. “Your papa is the Earl of Charnley?”

  Alexander nodded.

  That meant a wife.

  Her Aiden had a wife? And a child?

  A rogue of the road. A peer. A father. What else did she not know about her husband? And where was his other wife?

  Still struggling to comprehend the little boy’s words, a voice echoed from the hallway.

  “Alexander, what are you doing? Oh…I’m sorry.”

  Standing at her doorway was a young woman of a similar age to Tess. Her blond hair hung halfway down her back, the gray gown she wore far too big for her tiny frame. But it was her eyes that drew Tess in. Sad eyes that had seen pain and sorrow, her expression empty. Hollow.

 

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