Hannah accepted Nolan’s assistance out of the carriage and waited as he paid the stable boy to look after the horses and another boy to bring in their bags. She cast nervous glances at the elegant people entering the establishment. “This place seems a trifle costly. Can you afford this?”
“You leave the money worries to me.” Nolan offered her his arm. “I plan to spoil you as much as I can.”
She attempted a smile as she allowed Nolan to lead her through the main doors. Inside, the place bustled with activity. To the right, boisterous guests filled the elegant dining room, enjoying the remnants of their midday meal. To the left, a wooden desk spanned the wall under a sign that read Register. Straight ahead, a golden oak staircase curved up to the second story where the bedrooms must lie. A flush moved from Hannah’s neck into her cheeks at the thought of sharing a room—and a bed—with her new husband.
Nolan stepped toward the desk and spoke with a gentleman. Hannah remained standing in the open, not wanting to hear whatever Nolan might be telling the man. Her acute embarrassment that the people in this establishment might know they were on their honeymoon was almost too much to bear.
The boy from outside appeared with their bags.
“Room 23,” the desk clerk instructed.
Nolan tossed the boy another coin, and the lad bounded up the stairs. Hannah watched as Nolan crossed the polished wooden floor to her side and held out his elbow. “I believe a table is waiting for us in the dining room.”
Moments later, seated at the small cloth-covered table adorned with china cups, saucers, and sparkling silverware, Hannah felt she should pinch herself to make sure this wasn’t all an elaborate dream. Here she was, a mere kitchen maid, being treated like a fine upper-class lady. With trembling fingers, she removed her gloves and placed them in her reticule.
Nolan reached for her hand under the table and gave a gentle squeeze. “Please try to relax, Hannah. I want you to be able to savor this moment and remember it for years to come.” His earnest blue eyes met hers.
Why couldn’t she relax and appreciate Nolan’s generosity? After commanding herself to stop worrying, she managed to enjoy the experience of being served a fine meal. The roast pheasant, mashed potatoes, and apple pie for dessert rivaled Edna’s finest feast. With a full stomach and the restful surroundings, Hannah’s anxiety finally receded. Still, every so often, her attention shifted to the entrance of the dining room, sure the earl would come bursting in and ruin this wonderful day.
She leaned forward to speak softly in the vicinity of Nolan’s ear. “Do you think Lord Stainsby will be after us by now?”
Nolan regarded her with a steady gaze. “Not unless Reverend Black went against his word. I told his lordship that I needed a few days to travel to my mother’s hometown and inform her relatives of her passing. He agreed with little objection.”
“But what if he realizes I’m gone too?”
Nolan raised her hand to his lips. “Let’s not borrow trouble, my love. I have much more important things on my mind right now. Like taking my wife up to our room.” A rakish grin creased his handsome face.
Hannah’s heart sprinted in her chest, and she could only stare at him.
“Ready?” he asked gently.
She swallowed hard and nodded. As ready as I’ll ever be.
Together they climbed the winding staircase to the upper level. Hannah was sure every eye followed their ascent, every guest whispering behind gloved hands as to what the young couple was up to. She looked straight ahead as she walked down the carpeted corridor to the end room. The sweet scent of cinnamon and apples wafted up the stairs from the kitchen below. The lighting grew dimmer the farther they walked, just as Hannah’s courage faded with each step.
At last, Nolan stopped outside a wooden door. He took out a brass key, fitted it into the lock, and with a loud click, swung the door inward.
Hannah’s feet froze to the floor, immobilized with fear. Nolan turned back when she didn’t follow him in, a question in his eyes. Did he sense her uncertainty?
He walked back into the hall. “Of course. I almost forgot.” With a swoop of his arms, he lifted her high and stepped across the threshold of their room. He dropped a light kiss on her cool lips. “Welcome to the honeymoon suite, Mrs. Price.”
A large four-poster bed dominated the cozy room. Heavy drapery flanked the rectangular window that faced the back courtyard, and a large stone hearth took up most of the adjoining wall. Their two bags sat on the braided mat.
Nerves fluttered in Hannah’s stomach as she looked everywhere but the bed.
Nolan moved to the washstand where he inspected the pitcher. “There’s water and clean towels here if you’d like to freshen up.” A reddish tinge colored his neck. “I’ll go check on the horses and give you some privacy.”
As he moved past her, he dropped a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll be back very soon.”
“I’ll be waiting,” she promised.
As soon as the lock sounded in the door, Hannah removed her hat, dress, and shoes. She made use of the chamber pot, washed off the dust from the day’s travels, and dabbed her skin dry with the softest of towels. She opened her bag and took out the few articles of clothing she had brought with her, hanging some in the wardrobe along with her good dress. Quickly she changed into her white cotton nightgown. While she brushed out her hair, she gazed at her reflection in the warped mirror. If only she had something nicer to wear than her high-necked cotton gown. Would her husband find her appealing or plain?
Nolan checked on his horses, made sure they were comfortable with food and clean water, then spent a few minutes staring up at the late-afternoon sky in the back courtyard of the inn. The wind had picked up since they arrived. Overhead, clouds swirled in hypnotic patterns, as if trying to outrun the impending rain. He pulled up the collar of his jacket against the sting of dirt in the air as thoughts of Hannah tugged at his conscience.
He couldn’t deny the abject fear he’d sensed in her since arriving at the inn. If he had his way, he’d ease his beloved into the physical aspect of marriage, woo her over time until she felt comfortable with him. Unfortunately, time was a luxury they did not have. He needed to make sure their union was validated, so that an annulment would not be possible.
Despite the confidence of his decision, a degree of unease plagued him. Had his arrogance, his desire to circumvent the will of the earl, caused him to push Hannah into marriage too quickly?
For the second time that day, Nolan turned his thoughts to the Almighty. Lord, forgive me for my recent anger at you and for my arrogance with Hannah. Please ease Hannah’s fears and help me to be a sensitive husband to her.
With a long sigh, he straightened, pulled his cap low on his forehead, and headed back inside.
When Nolan returned to the room, he knocked softly before he inserted the key into the lock. The interior was shrouded in darkness, save for the flare of a lone candle on the night table. Hannah had pulled the heavy drapes across the window, effectively blocking out all remaining daylight.
Where on earth was she? She wouldn’t have gotten so nervous that she bolted, would she?
A small shift under the voluminous quilt on the bed pinpointed his attention to the eyes peering out at him.
“Did I give you enough time?” he asked softly.
“Yes.”
The one-word answer did little to ease his mind. He turned the lock on the door, then peeled off his jacket, coat, and vest. The eyes watching him got wider by the moment. He breathed out a soft sigh and asked the Lord for guidance.
“Do you mind if I wash up a bit?” He kept his tone as casual as if he’d asked her to pass the potatoes.
“No. Go ahead.” She pulled the covers over her head to engulf her completely.
Nolan raked his fingers through his flattened hair. With a resigned grunt, he opened the collar of his shirt and moved to the washstand. Quickly he washed his face, neck, and hands, and dried off with a towel. Not a sound came from th
e bed.
His shoulders slumped. How many times had he dreamed about making sweet love to Hannah? Too many to count. And never once did this particular scenario enter his mind—his bride cowering under the coverlets, afraid to even look at him. What should he do?
Remember to put the Lord in the middle of your marriage.
The minister’s parting words came back to Nolan, giving him a burst of inspiration. Still clad in his white shirt and trousers, he went to sit on the side of the bed. Hannah’s quick intake of breath beneath the covers gave away her nerves. Gently, he took the edge of the blanket and drew it down to reveal her anxious face.
“Hannah, give me your hands.” He kept his voice calm, as though soothing a skittish mare. Bert always said Nolan had a way with nervous horses. He hoped he had a way with terrified women as well.
Her fingers held a frozen grip on the linens.
“You can do this, love. Take my hand. We’re just going to talk a while.”
“Talk?” The air whooshed out of her lungs in one great gust.
“Yes. I want you to feel comfortable with me, if nothing else. And to do that, I’d like us to pray together. Would that be all right with you?”
“I’ve been praying all day.” The words were no louder than a whisper.
“That’s fine. But I’d like us to start our marriage by praying together. It could be something we do every night, if it suits you.”
Relief visibly flooded her features, and a tremulous smile appeared. “I’d like that very much.”
Carefully, she peeled the covers back. Nolan’s pulse sprinted at the sight of the long golden hair that spilled over her shoulders. He caught a glimpse of a white lace bodice before she tucked the covers under her arms and reached out to clasp his hands. Taking a deep breath, he fought to keep his heartbeat under control.
Give me the right words, Lord.
He bowed his head and began with the simple Lord’s Prayer, which they recited together. Then he spoke from the heart. “Thank you, God, for the gift of Hannah as my wife. May I always be a kind and gentle husband. Help me to show her how much I treasure, cherish, and respect her—in all ways. May our love be perfect in your sight. Amen.”
When he lifted his head, he saw moisture glistening in her eyes. “Oh, Nolan. That was lovely. I—I’m sorry I’m not behaving like a proper wife on her wedding day.” A lone tear escaped her lashes and rolled down to her lip.
He reached up to wipe it away with his thumb. “There’s no proper way to act. You can’t help your feelings . . . or your fears.” It occurred to him then that she’d had no mother to prepare her for what to expect after the wedding. “We’re both nervous, Hannah. But we have our whole lives to figure this out. Do you . . .” He cleared his throat. “Do you understand what happens between a man and woman?”
“I think so,” she mumbled, looking at the bedspread.
“You must be able to at least look at me. There is nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed about.”
Hands still captured in his, she slowly raised her eyes.
“After tonight, there will be no awkwardness between us—only joy. I promise. We will truly be one. Just as God intended.”
Though her cheeks flamed, she didn’t try to hide her face. He lifted one hand to run his palm down the silky length of her hair. How many times had he longed to feel its texture? “You are so beautiful. I don’t know how I got lucky enough to claim your heart.”
“You’ve had it since I first arrived at Stainsby and you fixed that broken dish for me. Other than Edna, you’re the only one who’s ever really cared about me.”
Nolan went still, incensed that his beloved felt less than the wondrous woman she was, and he silently vowed to spend his days making up for the lack of love in her life. He ran a knuckle down the velvet skin of her cheek. “I have loved you since I first saw you, though I didn’t know it then.” He leaned his face forward to fan soft kisses on her forehead, her temple, her eyelids. He inhaled the clean, pure scent of her, cheered that she didn’t flinch from his touch.
He pulled back to look deeply into her eyes, to make sure she was willing to proceed. He was grateful to see no fear, only love shining there. His gaze fell to her parted lips, and his breathing grew shallow. “I’m going to kiss you now, if it’s all right with you.”
She swallowed and slowly nodded.
His pulse pounding in his veins, he cupped her face in both his hands and lowered his mouth to hers. It took only a moment for her cool lips to warm under his. A soft moan vibrated in her throat. She clutched his shoulders like a woman drowning and fused her mouth more firmly to his.
Sweet heavens, he hadn’t dared hope for such enthusiasm.
Her eager lips lit a flame in his body that leapt and sputtered like the embers in the grate beside them. “I love you more than life itself,” he whispered, trailing kisses down her jaw to her throat.
And when he laid her back on the feather mattress, all traces of her fear had been erased.
Chapter
11
Morning light roused Hannah from a heavy sleep. She blinked and sat up in bed, pushing her tousled hair over one shoulder. Why hadn’t she bothered to braid it last night? The sudden recollection of the reason sent a flood of heat to her cheeks. She covered her mouth as sensations flooded her, recalling how her tender, sweet husband had made her his wife in the most intimate way possible. Though she’d understood the mechanics behind it, she could never have dreamed the joy involved in sharing oneself so completely.
Movement at the side of the bed claimed her attention. Grinning at her, Nolan tugged a drape back from the window.
“Are you going to sleep all day, Mrs. Price?”
“What time is it?”
“The morning’s practically over, and I, for one, am starved.” He gestured to the small table beside the hearth. “I took the liberty of bringing up breakfast, since I thought you might not wish to eat in the dining room this morning.”
“How thoughtful. Thank you.” She fought the feelings of awkwardness that tried to take hold.
He brought her a tray with a plate of toast and marmalade and a cup of tea. While she balanced the offering on her knee, he sat down beside her and devoured a half slice of toast in one swallow.
“After we eat, I’ll ready the horses while you dress, and if you’re agreeable, we can set out toward Cobourg.”
Cobourg. The nearest sizable town to her stepfather’s farm. She took a hasty sip of tea to wet her dry throat.
“We’ll find an inn to stay in for the night and show up fresh tomorrow morning at the farm. That will give us enough time to get Molly’s things in order and return to Stainsby by nightfall.”
Dread curdled the tea in her stomach at the mere mention of the estate. The thought of returning to face the earl’s wrath was not something she looked forward to. “Could we not stay here for a few more days on our own?” She hated to sound like a whining child, but she finally had Nolan to herself and was loath to let their time end just yet.
“Does my bride wish more practice in being married?” The twinkle in his eyes combined with his low chuckle made her pulse quicken.
“Nolan!” She jerked, sloshing tea over the side of her cup.
He only laughed at her outrage. “I have no objection to spending the afternoon right here in this bed, if you’d like.”
She swatted him. “Behave yourself.”
“I’m teasing you, Hannah. Whatever you wish, we will do.”
He may have been teasing, but the love in his eyes told her he was serious. “Your plan sounds fine,” she said. “Though I hate to leave such a lovely place.”
“I’ve already asked at the desk and got the name of an equally fine establishment in Cobourg.” He popped another piece of toast in his mouth and washed it down with a slurp of tea.
He certainly seemed in good spirits today. She wondered how he managed to put thoughts of his irate father out of his mind so easily.
“Nol
an?”
“Yes, my love?” He twirled a strand of her hair around his finger.
“Your father can’t . . . I mean . . . our marriage can’t be dissolved, can it?”
He lifted his palm to cup her cheek. “No, sweetheart. We are well and truly married now. And I intend for us to stay that way for a very long time.”
Then his lips claimed hers in a kiss that promised an eternity of love to come.
“Blast it all.” Edward slammed the ledger closed on top of his desk. The urgent business matter his solicitor had brought him yesterday would not be easily resolved. Edward had already spent far too long going over and over the figures. He simply could not force his mind to concentrate on the situation at hand when all he could think about was the fact that he now had a grown son.
One who had fled the manor before Edward could even begin training him.
Nolan had claimed he needed to travel to his mother’s hometown and inform her relatives of her passing, but it seemed more like an excuse to leave. Perhaps the boy simply needed time to gain perspective on this monumental change in his life.
Edward pushed his chair back from the large mahogany desk and moved to the window behind him. Once again, memories of the boy’s mother returned to taunt him.
Mary. His heart breathed her name and squeezed with sorrow. The woman he’d loved more than twenty years ago, who’d died bearing his child. His son. Had Mary really asked her sister to keep Nolan from him, or had Elizabeth simply made the decision on her own?
Edward was trying hard not to despise Elizabeth Price for her deception, but red-hot anger still consumed him every time he thought of her treachery. The rational side of his brain told him it was ridiculous to harbor such animosity toward a dead woman.
For Nolan’s sake, Edward would have to get past it.
He strode to the fireplace and stoked the embers until a small flame flared. For his own sake, he needed to bury his resentment and concentrate all his efforts on forging a relationship with his son. The future of the Fairchild family rested on Edward’s ability to turn a stable boy into a proper heir.
A Most Noble Heir Page 9