A Bachelor Still

by Rebecca Hagan Lee

  Leaning down, Alex placed his hand on the soft wool of the blanket and shook her shoulder. “My lady, it’s time to wake up.”

  She groaned. “Are we changing horses again?”

  “No,” he answered. “We’ve arrived at the Abbey.”

  She shouldered herself upright and began smoothing her hair into place with her good hand. “We’re here? What time is it?”

  Alex stood transfixed by the sight of her. The lap robe had slipped to her waist, leaving the creamy skin of her chest and the soft curves of her breasts exposed to his view. He swallowed the lump of raw hunger in his throat. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen the curve of her bosom before. The evening gown she’d worn to Lady Harralson’s ball and his height advantage had afforded him a spectacular view of her breasts. As had her wedding dress. But there was something about knowing her undergarments were the only things between her and nakedness that had his imagination running wild.

  “Alex?” Liana followed his gaze, realized her lap robe had slipped, and quickly yanked it up to cover her chest. “Is the staff expecting us?”

  “Yes.” The house was lit up as if for a party and the staff was busy lining up beneath an army of umbrellas to greet them.

  Liana reached out, grabbed her wedding gown from the opposite seat and pulled it over her head. “Help me! Quick!” Her voice was muffled by the fabric covering her face.

  “How, my lady?”

  Liana stood up, settled her dress into place, dropped the blanket from beneath it, lifted her hair off her neck, and presented her back to her new husband. “My buttons.”

  Her buttons? She’d been wearing the dress when he’d left her. And as far as he knew, her buttons had all been fastened. How was it that they no longer were?

  Alex gazed at the bare flesh of her neck and shoulders, the thin fabric of her chemise, and the laces of her corset, all visible through the opening in the back of her dress, then focused his gaze on the long line of green buttons there. “How did you manage to unbutton them?”

  “Schuyler helped me.”

  “What?”

  “You said to call him if I needed anything. I needed help. I couldn’t reach my buttons.”

  “I didn’t say to call him to help you undress,” Alex protested. “He’s a man, not a ladies’ maid.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t have a lady’s maid,” Liana pointed out. “And if I did, she would be riding in a separate coach with the luggage and your valet, if they accompanied us at all.”

  “He’s a footman.” Alex knew Liana was right, knew he was being unreasonable, but he couldn’t seem to prevent it. He’d spent two hours riding in the cold and rain to keep from accosting his bride while his footman had been relatively warm and dry and busy helping his bride disrobe. “The operative word being ‘man’. He had no business coming into my coach and undressing my wife.”

  “You’re being most unreasonable. Schuyler is a consummate gentleman and completely loyal to you.”

  “I know. I hired him.”

  “Then you should trust him to take care of our needs in a professional manner. That’s his business. And you told me to call him if I needed anything. I needed help with my buttons so…”

  Alex jumped in before she could finish. “Tell me, my lady, what precipitated the sudden need to remove your dress?”

  “The length of the journey. And a desire not to have my arrival at Greneleafe Abbey reflect badly on you.”

  He lifted his eyebrow at that. “How so?”

  “I didn’t want to arrive at the Abbey and be presented to your staff as the new marchioness wearing a hopelessly wrinkled gown and looking less than my best.”

  “Oh.”

  Liana met his gaze. “My decision wasn’t sudden. I meant to ask you if you would help me remove my dress after our first coaching stop, but you seemed to be in such a hurry to leave I wasn’t sure how to go about it.”

  “You could have simply asked me. I’m your husband.” Alex gritted his teeth as he began forcing the small buttons into their buttonholes.

  “I was trying to work up the nerve,” she pointed out. “By the time I did, you were riding post.”

  “For all the good it did me,” he muttered ungraciously while doing up the last button.

  “Why are you so angry?” Liana asked. “You said I would be perfectly safe. And I was.”

  “I’m not angry, I’m je—” Jealous. The word struck him like a blow to the face and Alex immediately began to deny it. Jealous? He wasn’t jealous. He couldn’t be jealous. Not of his footman. He had no reason to be jealous of his footman. It wasn’t as if he cared about his bride. Their relationship was based on honor and mutual respect. It wasn’t as if emotions were involved. He hardly knew the girl.

  What did it matter if a footman unbuttoned her dress? Schuyler was barely eighteen. Still a boy really…

  And Liana was a girl. Only a year older than Schuyler. But she was old enough to be married. Old enough to become his wife. His marchioness. Even if he didn’t plan to keep her. Alex squeezed his eyes shut. He should have known better. He should have considered the situation more thoroughly before he’d impulsively agreed to do it. Sussex had urged caution and tried to warn him of the consequences. But Alex hadn’t listened. He had to play the hero. Had to rush to not only save her, but marry her. To give her his name and title and make her a part of his life. Alex scrubbed his face with his hands. He’d always been a bit possessive and overly protective of his belongings—horses, dogs, vehicles. But he’d never been possessive of a woman. Had never worried if the women with whom he associated were monogamous.

  Until now.

  He was feeling possessive about Liana. Holding her to a higher standard. Caesar’s wife must be above suspicion. The thought popped into Alex’s head and he realized he felt the same way Julius Caesar had felt. Alex knew it was unfair but as long as Liana remained his wife, she was his. And his alone.

  “Alex? Lord Courtland?” She glanced over shoulder at him, saw that he’d finished fastening her wedding gown, and let her hair fall back into place. “You’re what?”

  “Tired,” he replied. “I’m just tired. Cold, wet, hungry and tired.”

  “Of course, you are.” Liana was immediately sympathetic. “You can’t have gotten much sleep last night. You barely touched your food at breakfast and you’ve spent a good portion of the journey in the weather. It’s no wonder you’re being unreasonable. You must be exhausted.”

  “I fear I’m past the point of exhaustion,” he admitted.

  She smiled at him. “Then, it’s a good thing we’re home.”

  Home. He checked his timepiece, then pocketed it, and offered his bride his elbow. “My lady, let’s go meet the staff.”

  * * *

  It was half past ten in the evening. The steady downpour that had plagued them for the past two hours had subsided from heavy rain to a persistent drizzle, but even so, the staff of Greneleafe Abbey, with umbrellas and lanterns, had lined up to greet the master and his bride.

  “Welcome home, my lord.” The butler, Westerly, was the first to greet them as they descended from the coach. “May I be the first to offer felicitations on your wedding?”

  “You may. And thank you, Westerly.” Alex moved back half a step to allow Liana to step forward. “Allow me to present my bride, Liana, Lady Courtland. Liana, this is Westerly, our butler here at Greneleafe Abbey.”

  Westerly bowed.

  “A privilege, Westerly.” She looked up at the staff, dressed in their best livery and uniforms, all crisp white linen and shiny buttons, lining the way to the entrance. “Thank you all for coming out on such a miserable night. I am pleased to meet you all and greatly honored.” Liana knew that tradition dictated that the butler, housekeeper, head footman, and groom turn out at each arrival or departure of the lord of the manor and that the entire manor staff appeared in full livery to welcome a new member of the family.

  Alex had explained the centuries-old trad
ition while they waited for Schuyler to fetch an umbrella for them. She and Alex were expected to greet each member of the staff and present wedding tokens to them in order of precedence. The Marquess of Courtland traditionally presented gold coins for every special occasion, having learned that the staff preferred it to more personal gifts.

  Learning that, Liana thought it a miracle they hadn’t been set upon by highwaymen and understood why Alex had insisted on riding postilion during the most dangerous leg of the journey. Her bridegroom had traveled from London to Greneleafe Abbey without an armed guard and with a purse full of gentleman’s coin. As he led Liana down the long line, introducing her to each member of the staff and allowing each of the servants to bow or curtsy, Alex distributed the coins, pressing a gold sovereign into each staff member’s hand. The coins were given as reward for the service Alex received while he was a bachelor and for the service he and his new marchioness would receive in the future. Now that he had brought his bride to the Abbey, the staff no longer answered only to him. Greneleafe Abbey had a mistress to serve with the same loyalty and attention to detail they had always given him.

  Liana and Alex knew that despite the lateness of the evening and their road weariness, the traditions must be observed before they could refresh themselves and retire to their beds. And Alex had explained that they would repeat the ceremony when Liana made her first visit to Courtland Manor and to the London townhouse to be presented to the staffs there as Lady Courtland.

  Standing beside Alex as they neared the end of the long line of servants, Liana wobbled slightly. She was almost wilting with exhaustion. Alex immediately reached out to steady her. “Careful, my lady.”

  She smiled her gratitude to her husband and at Schuyler for managing to keep the umbrella over her head, then watched as Alex clasped the hand of a staff member and pressed a gold sovereign into it.

  “You made good time, Hiller. I’m glad to see you arrived safely.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Hiller tugged on his forelock to show his respect.

  “Any trouble?”

  Hiller shook his head. “No, sir. Nothing other than the weather.” He examined Alex. “I see you were in the weather as well, sir.”

  Alex nodded. “I rode postilion during the last leg of the journey.”

  “I’m gratified you and Her Ladyship arrived safely as well.”

  Alex nodded. “Rest up. You’ve earned it.” He scanned the faces of all the staff. “It’s been a long day. I know you must be tired.” He managed a smile for the staff. “I’m cold, wet, hungry and tired and Her Ladyship suffered an injury this morning and is equally exhausted. Thank you for your good wishes and warm welcome. I dislike having to ask additional service of you and promise not to keep you any longer than necessary. Hopefully, we will all be able to seek our beds soon.” With that, Alex turned, motioned Schuyler and the umbrella out of the way, then swung Liana up into his arms.

  “Alex,” she murmured, “You’re tired. There’s no need for you to carry me. I am perfectly capable of walking on my own.”

  “I know you can walk, my lady. I’ve seen your determination and courage first hand.” He gave her a smile. “But it’s my pleasure to carry my bride over the threshold into her new home as is the custom of all the Courtland men who came before me.”

  Liana blushed. “I didn’t think about that.”

  “I did.”

  “Please, carry on,” she whispered.

  Westerly moved closer, concern wrinkling his brow. “Lady Courtland…”

  “Is a bride,” Alex reminded his butler. “Nothing’s amiss. I simply wish to carry her over the threshold and up to her room.”

  “Very good, sir,” Westerly replied. “The master suite is ready, sir. The beds have been turned down and there are fires in the grates of both your lordship’s and your ladyship’s chambers. I had the hot water for your baths sent up when the stable boys announced the coach was coming up the drive. Will Mr. Beauclerk and Lady Courtland’s lady’s maid follow?”

  Alex shook his head. “No. Beau stayed behind in London and Her Ladyship has yet to secure the services of a lady’s maid.” He managed a charmingly lopsided smile. “As we are on our honeymoon, we’ll be dressing informally. I’ll act as Lady Courtland’s abigail for the duration of our stay.” He glanced at Westerly. “If you will kindly direct a footman to assist Schuyler with the luggage.”

  Westerly bowed. “I’ll see to it right away, my lord. Shall I send for a physician as well?”

  Alex looked to Liana for guidance.

  She shook her head. “Not tonight.”

  He turned back to the butler. “That won’t be necessary tonight.”

  The staff clapped and cheered as Lord Courtland carried his lady up the front steps and into the house.

  “Sir?” Mrs. Barrett, the cook, rushed to catch up, following close on his heels.

  “Yes?” Alex halted at the bottom of the main staircase and turned to face her.

  “Shall I bring up a supper tray for you and the missus? I made a tasty lamb and potato stew for supper and we’ve fresh bread and cheese and butter and jam. Oh, and I also made your favorite bread pudding and an orange cake and syllabub to welcome you and your bride home. We’ve waited to cut the cake until you arrived.”

  Alex looked down at Liana. She had dined on bread and cheese and an assortment of fruits from the wedding hamper, but he had not. He hadn’t eaten anything since the wedding breakfast and what he’d eaten couldn’t hold his hunger at bay any longer.

  “Please.” Liana nodded. “His Lordship hasn’t eaten since breakfast.”

  Alex’s stomach rumbled as if on cue. “It sounds like a feast fit for the gods, Mrs. Barrett. We’ll look forward to it.” He turned back to the stairs, then remembered. “Mrs. Barrett, there’s a hamper of goodies left from the wedding breakfast in the coach,” Alex told her. “Wedding cake and sweets and fruits and cider. Feel free to share it with the staff.” He looked at Westerly. “Cut the wedding cake and break out wine, ale and cider for the staff. And send a bottle of whisky and a nice sherry along with coffee and tea for my wife and me up with the supper tray as soon as possible.” Alex turned and continued his climb up the stairs. “We’ll ring if we require anything else.”

  “Yes, sir.” The butler and the cook spoke in unison.

  Mrs. Barrett bobbed a curtsey. “I’ll have your supper ready in a thrice.”

  “Thank you,” Alex replied. “Please set it on the small dining table in the sitting room.”

  Westerly bowed. “We’ll see to it, sir.” The butler clapped his hands to dismiss the staff as Mrs. Barrett hurried to the kitchen to ready the lord and lady’s supper tray.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “A hundred men may make an encampment, but it takes a woman to make a home.”–Chinese Proverb

  Taking the stairs two at a time, Alex carried Liana up to the second floor. He didn’t stop until he reached the massive doors at the end of the corridor leading to the master apartments. Pausing at the double doors, he leaned down to murmur, “If you would be so kind, my lady…”

  Liana turned one of the doorknobs and gave the door a gentle shove. The door swung open on well-oiled hinges. Alex carried Liana over the last threshold into a large elegantly-appointed sitting room that joined the lord and lady’s apartments. He crossed the room and entered the lady’s suite, where he set Liana on her feet on the rug in front of the fireplace.

  A large copper tub half-filled with water sat on the Turkey rug to the left of her. A curtained screen stood at the back of it. A row of metal buckets filled with water heated on the hearth. Alex leaned over and dipped a finger in the nearest bucket to test the temperature. A wing chair and a low table were within arm’s length. The seat of the chair held a stack of towels while the table was covered with an assortment of soaps and bath salts.

  Liana let out a sigh of pleasure at the thoughtfulness of his staff. They’d provided her with every luxury and comfort.

  “Y
our bath is nearly ready, my lady,” Alex told her. “Would you prefer to bathe before or after supper?”

  “Before.” She gave Alex a dismayed look. “But I’ve nothing to wear until Schuyler brings my trunks.”

  “I can take care of that.” Alex left the room.

  Liana heard him cross the sitting room and enter the suite of apartments opposite hers.

  He returned minutes later with an armload of clothing. “These will swallow a little mite like you, but they’ll assure your modesty and keep you warm.” He held up a man’s white linen nightshirt along with a gray velvet robe with wide quilted lapels that obviously belonged to him.

  She accepted the garments he handed her, unable to resist pressing the soft velvet of the lapel to her face. It smelled like him. A tangy mixture of orange spice and Alexander Courtland. “What will you wear?”

  He gifted her with a devilish smile. “Not to worry. My mother keeps me well supplied with nightshirts she believes I wear to bed.”

  “You don’t?”

  He moved his head from side to side in lazy confirmation.

  She wasn’t surprised by his admission. She had three brothers and Liana knew from experience that mothers were generally unaware of the things their sons did or didn’t do when they were out of her sight—or in the case of Alex and her brother, Colin—grown and on their own. His answer hadn’t surprised her. But it had definitely piqued her interest and her curiosity. “What do you wear to bed?”

  He clucked his tongue before grinning his most devilish grin. “It depends on what I intend to do there—and with whom.”