“Please come home, Ethan,” she whispered.
“Ma’am, did you say something?” Rigal asked.
Emily walked into her bedroom. “No, nothing at all.”
“Are you ready to dress?”
“Yes, thank you, Rigal. Could you please have my tea delivered to the downstairs parlor?”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Rigal helped Emily dress before she left to see about the tea.
Emily sat at her vanity. She picked up her brush, and began to brush out her hair. She re-braided it, and wound it into a bun at the back of her neck. With one last glance in the mirror, she got up and made her way down to the parlor.
She was walking down the long, gallery hall when she heard voices. She quickened her pace to the parlor. She stopped short at the door. Her hand flew to her belly to quell the nervous butterflies that had gathered there. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest.
Ethan stood by the fireplace.
The housekeeper brought the tea and refreshments into the parlor, and set them down on the table. She turned back to Emily. “Will there be anything else, Ma’am?”
Emily stood frozen. She was afraid to move. She had been praying and hoping for her husband’s return for ten days and, now that he stood in front of her, she found she was afraid to speak. What if he refused to speak to her? Or worse: what if he turned around and stormed out once again?
“Mrs. Richardson?”
The housekeeper’s voice startled her. “What? Oh, yes, thank you. That will be all for now.” She found the courage to walk into the room. She clasped her hands together to keep them from shaking. She never took her eyes off Ethan. He had not moved either toward her or away from her, and she prayed that was a good sign.
“May I pour you some tea?” she asked, her voice shaking.
After an agonizing moment, Ethan moved over the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down. “Yes, thank you,” he said stiffly. He did not look at her.
Emily poured the tea, and placed the cup in front of her husband. “I’m glad you’re back. I was very worried about you.”
“Madam, I highly doubt that.”
Emily flinched at his tone. It was so unlike him that it took her a moment to continue. “Ethan, I must speak with you privately. It is important. I was…”
Ethan waved a dismissive hand at her. “Mrs. Richardson, now is not the time. I have affairs to attend to here.” He took a sip of tea.
Emily nodded. “Of course; I understand. Please let me know when I may speak with you.” She poured herself a cup of tea and sat down, never taking her eyes from her husband. It was abundantly clear that he was still angry, or hurt, or both. She could hardly blame him, but she desperately wanted to tell him that she had made a terrible mistake. She longed to tell him that she had loved him all along.
After another sip of tea, Ethan stood. “Good day. I will see you at dinner.”
Emily watched him walk out of the parlor. “I look forward to it,” she said to his receding back. She had no choice. She would have to wait another agonizing day before she could right a terrible wrong.
She busied herself throughout the day planning the evening menu and picking out the flowers to grace the table, but the hours crawled by. Finally, it was time for her to go upstairs and change for dinner.
Rigal had laid out a cream-colored dress for dinner, but Emily shook her head no at her choice. “Rigal, I would like the blue one, please.”
The lady’s maid looked at her mistress with puzzlement. “Your wedding dress, Ma’am?”
“Yes, that one, please.”
“Of course, Ma’am.” Rigal scooped up the cream dress, and returned it to the armoire. She pulled out the ice-blue dress, and brought it Emily. “Shall I redo your hair as well?”
Emily fingered the beautiful, satin gown before sitting down at her vanity. She was determined to win her husband’s love back, one step at a time. “That would be lovely. Thank you.”
When Emily walked into the dining room for dinner, she saw Ethan’s eyes widen in surprise. She hoped that he would say something about her appearance, but no compliment left his lips. They sat down, and an awkward silence filled the room. The only sound was the maid, bringing each course into and out of the room.
“I was in London,” Ethan finally said.
Emily looked up from her plate. “Oh?”
“Family business.”
“I see. I hope everything has been resolved satisfactorily.”
“Colby was shot.”
Alarm flared in Emily’s eyes. She had heard rumors about Colby and his penchant for gambling, but she had no idea that it could turn deadly. “Oh no! I’m so sorry. Did he survive?”
“Yes.” Ethan offered no more explanation, and the silence once again filled the room.
When the meal was finished, Ethan offered his arm to his bride, and Emily gladly accepted. The young couple walked to the parlor. Each picked up a book, and pretended to read. Another hour dragged by. Emily could stand the tension no longer.
“Mr. Richardson?”
Ethan looked up from his own book.
“I am going to retire for the evening. If it pleases you, I would like to speak with you in private.”
He nodded, and returned to his reading.
Disappointment flashed across Emily’s pretty face. She closed her book and stood. “Good evening,” she said, and walked out of the room without a backward glance.
Rigal was waiting for her in her suite of rooms, and helped her undress putting the dress back in the armoire. She pulled out the embroidered nightdress.
“This one, Mrs. Richardson?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Rigal helped Emily slip on the nightdress. She pulled the pins from Emily’s hair, and the curls fell across her shoulders.
“Thank you, Rigal. That will be all for tonight.”
“Very good, Ma’am. Good evening.”
Emily walked into her parlor, and sat on the chaise. The fire was lit and threw off welcoming heat, but it offered no comfort to her. Nervous butterflies roiled around her insides. She clasped her hands in her lap and waited. And waited. No one knocked on her door. The minutes ticked past.
She got up, and began to pace the room. Why didn’t he come to speak with her this evening? She had to fix this. What could she do to melt his cold heart? A myriad of feelings filled her with dread. Could she fix this? Or would she have to learn to live in a loveless marriage?
Before she could stop them, tears leaked from her eyes. “Ethan, please come to me tonight.”
A knock on her door drew her attention. She wiped the tears from her face, and took a seat on the chaise. “Come in.”
Ethan entered her room and stood just inside the door. “You wished to speak to me?”
Emily looked at her husband; really looked at him. The strain of the last ten days had clearly taken a toll on him, but it didn’t matter. Why had she not noticed how handsome he was, or his brown eyes, so kind and caring? “Will you sit with me?”
Ethan nodded, and walked over to the chair opposite her and sat.
Emily took a deep breath and began. “Ethan, I have a sad tale to tell about a foolish, young girl who thought she was in love.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow, but did not interrupt.
“You see, this girl was dazzled by all the wrong things: charming words, winks, and stolen kisses.”
“Madam, I do not wish to hear this,” Ethan said, getting ready to stand.
Emily panicked. She jumped off the chaise and knelt in front of his chair. “No, please wait. I must explain.”
Ethan settled back into the chair. “Go on, but please sit down.”
Emily nodded and went back to the chaise. “You see, this girl was in love with a man who wrote the most beautiful love letters to her, but she was foolish, and sadly mistaken about the sender of those letters.”
Emily paused, but when Ethan did not respond, she continued. “I believed I had married the wrong man, and my hear
t was broken. I am so very, truly sorry for my actions on our wedding night. It wasn’t until after you left that I found your final letter. Oh, Ethan, it is you that I loved all along. Truly love. You cannot know how many times I have read your letters over these past months. They made my heart soar. The author of those letters is the man I fell in love with. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me for those hurtful words I spoke to you on our wedding night?”
Emily watched as a range of emotions flashed across Ethan’s face. She was so afraid that, even now that she had confessed everything, it not be enough. What would she do if Ethan didn’t forgive her?
After an agonizing minute Ethan rose, and sat next to her on the chaise. His hand traced the line of her jaw. He lifted her chin so their eyes met. “My dearest Emily, your words were hurtful, I cannot deny that, but I have loved you from the moment I saw you. You are my Bright Star.”
He leaned forward and kissed her, softly at first, and then with a passion that had been waiting to burst forth for months.
Emily wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck, and returned his kisses. The fire of passion ignited within her. “Ethan, I love you with all my heart. I never want to be parted from you again.”
Ethan scooped her up into his arms. “And I love you, my darling.” He carried her to the bedroom, and laid her gently on the bed. He shrugged out of his clothes, and lay down beside her.
Emily undid the ribbons of her nightdress. She was nervous, but her passion for the man she loved continued to burn brighter.
Ethan kissed her softly at first. His tongue darted inside her mouth, probing and tasting every bit of her.
He left a trail of kisses from her sweet lips to the swell her breast. He kissed her soft skin and his tongue licked and teased her rosy-pink nipple to hardness.
A moan escaped her lips.
Ethan slipped the nightdress over his bride’s head. He inhaled at the beauty of her body as his hand trailed along the length of her. “You are so beautiful.”
Emily smiled. She pulled Ethan on top of her. “Come to me, my darling husband.” Her nervousness was gone and she let her body respond to his caresses.
When Ethan lay on top of her, she welcomed him and opened herself up to receive him. A moment of pain startled her, but was soon forgotten as they began their dance of love together.
Epilogue
Connor Preston stroked his beautiful wife’s hair as she lay in his arms. Elizabeth was perfect. Perfectly rich.
“Connor?”
“Yes, my love?”
“Will you please set up a line of credit with the dressmaker? I am having some new gowns made.”
“A line of credit? Don’t you have one there already?”
Elizabeth pushed herself up on her elbow. “No, I have none.”
“Surely your per annum is enough to cover a dressmaker?”
“I’m afraid not. Did my father not tell you?”
Alarm bells rang in Connor’s mind. “Tell me what?”
“There is no money. Everything is mortgaged.”
Connor stared at his wife with his mouth hanging open. “You have no cash?”
Elizabeth shook her head from side to side.
“The dowry?”
“Mortgaged away.”
Connor furiously thought about the implications of his wife’s words. There was no money. Not a shilling of ready cash between them. He burst out laughing. There was nothing else to do. He had been the fool.
***
Dear Reader, thank you for reading Love by Secrets. I hope you enjoyed the story. Be sure to look for more stories by Debra Elizabeth in the future.
Love by Secrets (A Romance Novella) Page 7