The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 5

by MacMurrough, Sorcha

He patted one stray curl into place in a gesture that could almost be described as affectionate. "I'm not ashamed of what we shared, and you shouldn't be either. After all, as you pointed out, we are indeed married."

  "Aren't there certain injunctions against leading each other into sin?"

  He grinned. "I think there might be, but I'm willing to risk it if you are."

  "Risk what, exactly?" she asked as he led her down the stairs.

  "Hell for a taste of paradise here on earth."

  "I'd like to have it in both places," she said with a warm smile.

  His eyes glowed. "You can have it anywhere you like, my pet."

  She couldn't help but giggle. "I think I have already, judging from what the bedroom looks like."

  Lawrence gave an impish grin which took her breath away. "I think I can manage to find quite a few more places in the house we haven't tried."

  He helped her into the carriage most solicitously.

  "But the boys-"

  "I know. I would never do anything to upset them. But what we do in the privacy of our own chambers is no one's concern except ours. So you're not to feel guilty or go scurrying if the servants see you."

  She giggled. "I rather hoped they wouldn't see you."

  "I promise to be a bit more discreet, or better still, just put a latch on that door."

  "All right. Latch it is."

  Lawrence grinned. "My, we're a greedy little girl, aren't we?"

  "I know I have no right to be. I'm very grateful for what I do have. I just wish-" She bit her lip to silence herself.

  "What do you wish?" Lawrence asked gently, stroking her shoulder.

  "That what we shared was more special. To you I mean."

  "Special?" he said with a frown.

  "Er, exclusive. Unique," she said, blushing. "I ought to have known from the outset that I could never hold your interest for more than a night or two, but-"

  "I talk too much, and you listen far too well," he grumbled, lapsing back into the carriage seat.

  She put her chin in her hand and gazed out the window pensively, until she felt him toying with one of her jet curls.

  "It is special. I haven't been--" He drew a deep breath. "The truth is I've been alone since I left this house, and every night since we left London that I haven't been with you. I can't promise it will always be like that, but I find such delight in being with you that I can't be bothered to try to seek another. And I wouldn't waste my money paying, not after what you've so generously bestowed upon me."

  Juliet looked at him with a new sense of hope. "Do you suppose well, I could touch you some time after all? Affectionately, not just in bed. I mean, you did say-"

  He took her hand and kissed it, then kept it in his own. "If my every word is going to come back to haunt me, I'm going to take a vow of silence."

  "Yes, about that too. Am I still supposed to-"

  His eyes widened. "No, definitely not! Is that why-- Oh damn. Come here."

  He kissed her thoroughly, and began to tease her under her skirts. "Tell me," he urged.

  "Tell you what?" she asked in confusion.

  "Go on, tell me."

  Her breath was soon coming in huge shuddering pants.

  "Now let it all out, and tell me."

  "Oh, Lawrence, Lawrence!"

  He laughed in delight and pressed on, thrilling her beyond measure.

  "Oh, Lawrence, that was wonderful," she said in awe, her breath coming in low sobs.

  "You can be silent if we're playing little games, but otherwise, I want you to scream."

  "But you don't, most of the time."

  "I was only being quiet because you were."

  She reached for him to caress him, but he shook his head. "Almost to Bath. Save that thought for later, though."

  They pulled up in front of a fine dressmaker's and he helped her down and said, "I've surveyed all the shops in Bath for fabrics for the tea rooms I wish to open eventually. This was the best one. Anything you can't find here isn't worth buying. You'll need at least a dozen new gowns."

  Her mouth dropped open in shock. She tugged her hand away from his as he tried to lead her into the shop. "No, really. I don't want you to take the trouble. You told me I was a spendthrift-"

  "You have only two gowns in your wardrobe."

  "I haven't done anything to deserve-"

  "It isn't a case of deserving. You're my wife."

  "A wife you don't want," she pointed out. "Someone who has brought nothing but shame and anger."

  He had the grace to look uncomfortable. "That's not strictly true."

  "But you know you're lumbered with me. You've reminded me often enough. I've brought nothing to you, so I deserve nothing. If you were to let me be a helpmeet to you--"

  "Well, what do you think you've been worth since the first night we slept together?"

  She clutched her waist and gasped, making a low sound reminiscent of an animal in pain. She fled from him blindly then, running right out into the street. Right into the path of a carriage flying down the Bristol to London road.

  "Juliet, look out!" Lawrence shouted, his heart hammering in his chest.

  He snatched her out of the way with an inch to spare and rolled to safety, covering them both in mire.

  "Let me go! You're a monster!" she gasped, dragging in a breath.

  Then she was up and running again along the road, darting back to the opposite side of the street, weaving in and out of the traffic and doubling back in an effort to lose him.

  She didn't know what she was going to do with no money and her gown covered in filth, but anything had to be better than spending time with a moody and mercurial man who could be so tender one minute and so viciously accusing and insulting the next.

  She almost wished he would hit her--it might almost be preferable to the constant carping and humiliation. She almost wished the carriage had struck her and ended her misery there and then. And just when they had been getting along so well... The shop next to the dressmaker's was empty, the door ajar for the removal men going to and fro. Juliet sprang in and ran behind the door, sinking onto her knees as she held her shoulders and cried.

  She could feel her knee and ankle swelling, and did not even bother to try to clean her frock with her handkerchief. She just crouched in the corner and wept hopelessly.

  She heard the scrape of booted feet coming and going in and out of the front door, but did not even bother to look up at the workmen as they carried on.

  Finally one of them ventured to ask, "You all right, Miss?"

  "I um, fell. I'll be all right."

  "That your husband lookin' ye?"

  "Yes, but don't tell-"

  "You're hurt, Miss, and that gown is all torn."

  "No, please don't make a fuss. I'll be all right."

  The kind-looking older man shook his head and went out with the small table he was carrying.

  Lawrence came back up the street, and the workman pointed silently.

  He saw his wife cowering in the corner holding her leg, tears streaming down her face, her hands all bloodied, and her gown a complete loss.

  He felt deeply troubled by what had almost happened. He had upset her so much she had nearly been killed. But what to do about it?

  "Juliet, I never meant-"

  She turned her face away and shook her head.

  Damn "Let's be strictly practical about this," he said gruffly, moved beyond measure by her tears, but sensing that touching her would only make things worse.

  "You've come up with a good idea for my tea marketing, you're looking after the household, and helping with the boys. A good housekeeper and tutor would get about fifty pounds a year each, and someone working for me in my company as a clerk would get about the same. So you can have an initial allowance of one-fifty, and any special purchases like good gowns, which can be work clothes for our business engagements in the day and evenings with clients and potential investors can be additional. Though if you will permit me, I woul
d like to buy you a couple of special things as wedding gifts."

  "Why would you want to give me a gift?" she asked suspiciously, with a ragged sniff.

  "It's customary. A bride can give her husband one as well."

  He face fell. "I'm not so thoroughly acquainted with your likes and dislikes that I would even know what to buy. Even if I had any money."

  "I've already had my gift, and it can't be bought in a shop." He stroked her damp cheek and kissed her. "More than one gift, I seem to recall. Ever since that first night. Given freely, with nothing held back. So come, please do not deny me the further delights of your company any longer."

  She shook her head. "But I have my things back in Dorset. If you would allow me to send for them, I wouldn't have to buy a thing."

  He frowned at the mention of Dorset, and waved her suggestion away. "You can send for whatever you like, my dear. But a married woman has a certain freedom of dress in terms of colour and style. Whilst I would not like you to bare your bosom to anyone other than me, I rather fancy looking for a regal purple frock to match your eyes."

  She smiled up at him tremulously. "I'm surprised you even noticed them. Most people say they're blue."

  "I can't stop noticing them. They're said to be the windows of the soul. Yours most certainly are, and a mirror such as the one at the front of your wardrobe," he said with a sultry smile, "reflecting both of our innermost desires."

  She smiled again a little more happily. "All right, I shall indulge you in the purple gown if you'll deduct the cost of your clothing from my stipend. After all, you ruined them trying to save me."

  He shook his head, not even liking to think how much they had cost for fear of her believing he was either boasting or reproaching her. "Nothing a bit of soap and water won't cure, and I can pass them on to one of the servants if they don't wash well. Please don't fret."

  She looked down at herself in chagrin. "But we can't go into the shops looking like this."

  "Never fear, I shall explain everything. Now come, dry your eyes, and let me refasten your hair ribbon."

  She stood still as he untangled it and then untied it and combed his fingers through her scalp. The contact was electrifying, and soon his feet were planted firmly between her own, his lean hard frame pressing her into the timber and plaster wall.

  The sound of a throat clearing brought them to their senses with a jolt.

  The older man grinned. "Sorry to interrupt you two love birds, but unless you want to put on a show for the whole of Bath, I suggest you adjust your clothes and take her home."

  "Sorry, we didn't mean to delay your work."

  "No hurry moving out. Last tenant did a flit. Just glad to see such a nice young couple has patched up their quarrel. Saw you run out in front of that carriage, and thought you was a goner, lass."

  She took a step forward and realised her leg. She grimaced and would have fallen if Lawrence hadn't caught her elbow.

  "Come, dear, we need to get you to sit down so we can have a proper look at that leg. I'll just take you next door, and get them to fetch a doctor and some decent clothes for me and you."

  Her husband was as good as his word. In no time at all, she had been cleaned up, and had donned a ready-made new frock, white with purple sprigs. The doctor cleaned out her abrasions while Lawrence went behind the curtains to change into the clothes he had had purchased off the peg. They were quite a good fit despite his large size, and he sent his card around to the tailor to tell him he would call to be measured at a more convenient time.

  "You can go now," Juliet offered. "I'll stay here and-"

  "Nonsense. This was to be your shopping trip. So you can have my undivided attention. You sit there, Juliet, and we shall bring you whatever you would like to see."

  He started with two dozen of every undergarment conceivable, and some elegant nightrails. "You can wear them when I'm not home. They're beautiful, but your pearlescent skin is even more so," he murmured in her ear, causing her to blush as red as a peony.

  He rifled through all of the purple fabrics, intent upon matching her eyes. "This is it. Perfect. Now, what to match it with. Silver or gold lace. Or black. No, I think the simpler, the better. Just draped like this, with a little white satin panel here." He indicated her bosom and she coloured to the roots of her hair.

  Mrs. Parkins enthused over the idea, but suggested silver tissue, and showed him a pattern with a draped bodice and long train which Lawrence pronounced just the thing.

  Juliet was stunned at her husband's generosity and interest in every last detail. "Oh my, I shall look awfully fine."

  "You shall indeed. A gown just made for you. And now, with this purple voile, it can be an overgown for something in, hmm, hyacinth."

  He selected some elegant gold braided twist as a trim, and enthusiastically moved on to a third gown of deep purple with a square neckline and narrow gold bands across the bosom and around the dropped waist.

  Those three bespoke gowns would take several days, so he selected a rich jade green, a deep blue, and a bronze coloured evening gown off the rails, and pronounced them excellent fits.

  "Really, these are plenty. I shall write home for my other things. They will be glad to send them."

  "Day gowns, if you please," Lawrence said, ignoring his wife's every protest. "We will look at ready to wear first, and then something with a few less ruffles and pleats. My wife is slender and elegant and does not need to walk around like a ruched and beribboned popinjay."

  Juliet sat back, completely at a loss. She had never seen a man so altered. She kept waiting for Lawrence to turn on her, disgrace her in front of the kindly woman or the other patrons in the shop.

  But he was the model companion, entertaining without being brash or offensive, and polite without being flirtatious to the women who all stared at him with undisguised admiration, if not downright lust.

  Juliet also protested at how much he was spending because she knew her figure was going to be changing soon, and she was going to need new things for herself and the baby once it arrived.

  But Lawrence plowed on, determined to make up for his neglect, and in truth, dressing his wife, the better to undress her when they were alone.

  Juliet almost started to enjoy this new, animated Lawrence until she spotted a tall dark-haired man walk up to the window with his two female companions, then point and start to move toward the entrance.

  Oh no, surely the Avenels weren't going to...

  But they were. Bryony and Isolde entered the shop, with Randall not too far behind his sister-in-law and wife.

  They introduced themselves cordially to Lawrence first, admired the gowns, and asked Juliet how she was.

  Randall bowed to Lawrence and offered his hand, which he declined to take. However, Randall had suspected he would not, and so glossed over the refusal by pivoting to offer it to Juliet instead. "So pleased to see you again. And many congratulations on your marriage. Are you well?"

  "I am, thank you. I just sprained my ankle just outside the shop, silly me, but-"

  "We wondered if your wife might be allowed to join us for tea at Sally Lunn's when you're finished here," Isolde made so bold as to ask Lawrence.

  "Oh, no really, I couldn't-- My ankle, I can't walk and-"

  "Nonsense, my dear. I shall gladly bring you in the carriage and fetch you in half an hour," Lawrence offered, and was delighted to see his wife's face light up.

  Lawrence was surprised at the offer which had sprung to his lips, but he had to admit he was impressed with the two women, quietly, not modishly dressed, and lovely, but without any flashiness. Of course as attractive as they were, his own wife put them in the shade, he felt.

  "If you have no pressing business, you're certainly welcome to join us, Mr. Howard," Bryony said cordially.

  "No, it's quite all right. I need to go to the tailor myself anyway, so I'm grateful for the chance for my wife to take her ease and some refreshment."

  "I can take her around to the tea sho
p in my carriage if you'd like to go now, Lawrence," Randall offered.

  "That's quite all right," he said stiffly, thinking the years had really left their mark on his old friend, who looked incredibly mature and sophisticated.

  "I shall wait here until all the ladies are finished, and we can all go together. They can leave their parcels in my carriage. They will be ready for you at Sally Lunn's at, say, four?"

  The two women, one auburn-haired, one dark, both nodded.