They chatted politely for a while but Lucy couldn’t stop wondering why this woman was lying about where she came from. Lucy knew that there was nothing wrong with her French accent, for she had spent a year living there with a cousin to improve her French.
In fact it was that year in France that had saved her life, meaning that she wasn’t at home to contract the scarlet fever which had claimed her brother’s and parents’ lives.
When Madam Poisson declared that it was time for her to leave, Lucy escorted her to the front door.
“Oh, I hear congratulations are in order,” the faux Frenchwoman cooed, and the final piece of the puzzle fell into place.
This was Marie, Max’s French lady-friend, a prostitute whom Max, and a few other gentlemen from his club, paid handsomely for her services. She had come to see Max’s bride for herself. Perhaps she thought that she might lose Max’s patronage once he married and this meeting was to prove to Max that she could reveal his indiscretions any time she wished, in the hopes that he would continue paying her.
If only this woman knew the truth, that this was a marriage in name only and Max wasn’t about to forego any of his pleasures. Besides, Max had already told her all about his French mistress, and the antics they got up to in the bedroom.
Didn’t he realise that his ‘charming’ Frenchwoman was about as French as cream tea? Or didn’t he care? Perhaps he enjoyed the artifice.
“Yes, I’m getting married tomorrow,” Lucy said, trying not to let her inner thoughts show.
“And who is the lucky man?”
“Maxwell Stark.”
Madam Poisson’s smile became brittle and Lucy wondered if her feelings for Max ran far deeper than simply enjoying his patronage. Did she love him?
That thought was quickly followed by an even worse one; did he love her?
“I hope you will be very happy together,” Marie said, her accent slipping slightly as she forgot to silence the H on her words.
“Me too.” Lucy curtseyed. “Thank you so much for your visit.”
Lucy turned away before the betraying sting in her eyes could turn into tears and made her way back towards the classroom. Once out of sight of prying eyes she paused and rested against the wall, bowing her head as she struggled to rein in her emotions.
Max must have told her about Lucy, for the wedding wasn’t going to be a large one and hadn’t made any of the Society columns in London papers yet. Did he talk to his mistresses as freely as he talked to her? She had always thought she was special, his best friend and the one person he shared everything with. Could she really have been so very mistaken about the man she loved?
More to the point, could she actually go through with this?
Chapter Four
Max checked his reflection one final time before making his way from the vestry into the church, waiting by the alter for his bride.
If only he could tell her the truth, that he was madly in love with her and had been since she was an inappropriately young age. Lucy had always kept her heart closed off from him though, and so he had entered a series of meaningless relationships to at least satisfy his needs, if not his longing. She did love him, he was certain of it but only as a brother; she never saw him as a potential husband.
He couldn’t blame her really; two of her siblings had died soon after birth, a third in a fall from horseback and the fourth at the same time as her parents. After suffering so much loss, why would she risk her heart again?
He had watched with growing agitation as gentleman after gentleman set their sights on her, and had breathed a sigh of relief as each was turned away.
She always told him that she was concerned that they loved her fortune more than her and he could hardly blame her. Courting didn’t exactly allow a couple to get to know each other well before marriage. Plus, he knew for a fact that she had been correct about a few of the gentlemen.
He had always been determined that if she ever did fall in love, he would let her go but until then, he had no qualms telling her about the rumours he heard regarding her suitors. And if he sometimes embellished those stories to make the men look even worse, well, he thought that was understandable. No one was good enough for his Lucy.
He still vividly remembered their one night together; it was seared into his memory and he couldn’t forget it even if he had wanted to. Thankfully he didn’t want to and often immersed himself in those memories, letting them soothe him.
Now his dreams were coming true and she was marrying him, only she was doing so to save him. In law she would be his, mind, body and soul but her heart would never belong to him and that hurt.
He turned when he heard a noise behind him and as she walked up the aisle towards him, he could almost forget his doubts. In a pale blue gown of the same shade as her eyes, her long hair mostly hidden by the matching bonnet that framed her face, she looked lovely.
She was truly the most beautiful creature that he had ever laid eyes on and as she walked down the aisle on his father’s arm, her shy smile melted his heart.
He smiled back, doing his best to give her some confidence. As he took her from his father and escorted her the final few steps to the alter, he squeezed her hand, trying to reassure her.
He remembered little of the wedding, only his terror as she didn’t answer ‘I do’ immediately and his relief as they finally signed the register, making their marriage official. The wedding breakfast was also a blur and as they climbed into the carriage that would take them to Lucy’s estate in Kent, he felt relieved.
He looked over at her and smiled, although it faded as he realised that he couldn’t think of a single thing to say to her. His mind was too filled with dreams of their wedding night to think coherently and the only topic he could think to broach that wasn’t amorous, was the weather. He would be damned if he would be so banal.
Unfortunately, the resulting silence was uncomfortable for both of them.
***
It took about six hours to get to Steed Manor and they were both grateful to stretch their legs once they arrived.
Originally built in the early 16th century by the first Earl of Canterbury, approximately 100 years ago Lucy’s great grandfather had knocked most of Steed Manor down and rebuilt it to his own tastes.
The new house was modelled on Blenheim Palace and built in a baroque style, with a grand central avenue that gave visitors a magnificent view of the house as they approached. Although only two storeys high, the stone columns that framed the entrance lent the building a majestic air, somewhat reminiscent of Ancient Greece.
They had both decided to leave their valet and lady’s maid in London. They didn’t intend to keep any company while they were here, so they could make do for themselves and therefore, the household staff unloaded and unpacked their belongings for them.
Lucy greeted the butler and housekeeper, who had served her parents for as long as she could remember, and introduced them to Max.
Max suggested that after they had freshened up, they have a drink before dinner and Lucy readily agreed, meeting him in the front parlour after she had washed and changed.
“So, did you have any plans for while we’re down here?” Max asked as he poured the drinks. Since his back was turned, he missed Lucy’s answering blush.
“Uh, first I’ll meet with the steward while we’re here; I have a few small matters on the estate to attend to and depending on what sports you wish to participate in this autumn, see how the game bird stocks are faring.”
“Can I sit in on these meetings?” he asked, unwilling to be parted from her while they were alone down here.
“Oh, um, well, I don’t see why not.” She sounded surprised and he understood why, since he had never showed any interest in estate management. “After that we will have to talk to Mrs Parker and Mr Kirk about hiring some additional servants and seeing if the food and wine stores need topping up.”
“Anything else?”
“Not really. A few of my tenants are falling behind
on the rent but I'm not inclined to evict them. I will have to sort something out though; it’s bad enough being a woman running an estate but if I show any signs of weakness, I will soon have no paying tenants.”
Dinner was announced then and they made their way into the dining room. The long table had been set for two, one at either end. They took their seats but between the candelabrum down the centre of the table and the distance between them, they couldn’t communicate without leaning out to one side and almost shouting at each other.
“This is ridiculous,” Lucy said as the soup bowls were removed and collecting up her glass and cutlery, came and sat beside him.
“Much better,” she smiled as the butler hastily rearranged her place setting. “What was the last thing you said?” she asked Max.
“About the tenants who are behind, I wondered if you had any ideas?”
“I have been considering restructuring the estate. Possibly taking the land back but rather than evicting the tenants, I could employ them instead.”
“Employ them how?”
“Well farming is moving ahead, methods and equipment are improving and I think I should take advantage of that.”
“How so?”
“Well take ploughs for example; new ones can now turn three lines of soil but most of my tenants are still using the one line plough or worse, turning the soil by hand. I’m also considering clearing some woodland and planting more crops. Perhaps even building a mill so the corn can be milled here, cutting out the middleman, as it were.”
“But people are migrating to the cities; you’ll end up with no workers.”
“They’re going because smallholdings aren’t providing them with enough money any longer, so they’re in search of work. If there was work in the country, I think most would stay.”
Max nodded, considering her points. “Why haven’t you done this before?”
“I felt that I should be around if I'm going to make such drastic changes,” she shrugged. “Now this will be our home, I can be around for many months of the year.”
“Where did you learn all this about agriculture?” he asked.
“I’ve been reading about it since I was fifteen. Your father saves me any articles that he thinks might be of interest.”
“My father?”
Lucy nodded. “Aren’t you aware of the farming and selective breeding programs he’s implemented on your estate?”
“No.” His tone was neutral and Lucy couldn’t work out how he felt.
“His pet project is trying to breed better cows, cross breeding and selectively breeding them for larger and more muscular animals for food, as well as dairy cows that produce a larger milk yield.”
“Like the selective breeding that the Earl of Egremont is doing with racehorses?”
“Yes,” she smiled at him. “It’s exactly like that, only instead of breeding fast runners, your father is trying to breed larger animals. I’ve written to George a few times now, asking if he has any hints and tips for the estate.”
“You’re on first name terms with the Earl of Egremont?”
“Yes, he was very helpful. He’s also turned his deer park over to tillage and he was able to offer me some tips on the best crops to grow.”
“How did I not know this?” Max asked, sounding a little hurt.
“Because every time I tried to discuss agriculture or farming, you changed the subject.”
“I thought that you were acting at my father’s behest, trying to get me into paying attention to my estate.”
“This might shock you, Maxwell, but the whole world does not revolve around you!” She sounded a little sharp.
“No, I didn’t…” His words trailed off as he wondered if that was how she really saw him. She had been trying to engage him in a topic that clearly interested her and he had shrugged her off, completely disinterested.
An awkward silence enveloped them and they ate the remainder of the meal without talking. When the dessert plates were removed, Max wondered how to best thaw the ice between them.
“Would you like another drink before bed?” he asked.
“I think I’ve had enough wine, thank you.”
She was perfectly civil but remote.
“It’s been a long day, shall we go to bed.”
Lucy nodded and they left the dining table and headed to the first floor. Kirk, the butler accompanied them and showed Max to his room, which was next to Lucy’s. He thanked Kirk and undressed, suddenly nervous of entering Lucy’s room, wondering if she would welcome him.
Perhaps he had made a colossal mistake in asking her to marry him, wondering if he might have been better off with Georgette. He quickly dismissed that thought, knowing that they would have made each other miserable.
He and Lucy might need some time to adjust but they were best friends and they would soon resume the close relationship they had enjoyed before, especially if he began to take an interest in things that interested her, such as the estate.
Clad only in his nightshirt, he walked the short distance to her room and tapped on her door. There was a pause before she called for him to come in and when he entered, he found her sitting by her dresser, clad in her own nightgown and brushing out her long hair. She looked at his reflection in the mirror and although she smiled, he could see that she was terribly nervous.
“May I?” he asked, holding his hand out for the bush.
She handed it to him and pulled a chair up behind her, so that they were on the same level. He began gently pulling the brush through her long, blonde hair, which hung almost ramrod straight to the small of her back.
She had always lamented her hair, saying it was too thick, too long, too straight, but Max had always loved it. He leaned to the side and smiled at her in the mirror, pleased to see that her answering smile was less hesitant.
He continued to brush her luscious locks, inhaling deeply as he did so. Her hair smelled of orange blossom, a hint of something like cocoa and just a trace of vanilla, the same scent that he remembered from when they first made love, all those years ago now. Now and again he would try to get close to her and breathe deeply enough to remind himself of the scent but it was never like this, where it filled his senses, almost making him giddy with lust.
The next time he looked in the mirror, her eyes were closed and she had a slight smile playing at her lips, clearly enjoying his ministrations.
“I’ve always loved your hair,” he told her. “I would run my fingers through it all day, if you’d let me.”
Her eyes didn’t open but her smile did widen. He was the reason that she had never had more than an inch trimmed off the ends, despite how difficult it was to manage on a day to day basis.
Finally he seemed to have finished and, sweeping her hair aside, he placed a reverent kiss on her shoulder. Her eyes sprang open and she swallowed down a mixture of fear and excitement. Max stood up, placed his hands on her upper arms and drew her to her feet. Stepping aside from the chair and stool, he turned her to face him, although she refused to meet his eyes, seemingly fascinated with the neckline of his nightshirt. He gently placed a finger under her chin and tilted her head up, giving her a warm smile.
“Relax, my darling, this won’t hurt at all, not like last the time.”
Considering that had been her first time, she hadn’t actually felt much pain. What hurt was knowing that she was just another notch on his bedpost.
His expression was so sincere right now though and it warmed her heart to see him look at her with such affection, even if he had looked at a hundred other women the same way. She may regret it later but she intended to enjoy this.
She smiled at him and, stretching up on her toes, kissed him boldly on the lips. He almost looked amused as he returned the gesture, placing a series of kisses over her lips.
Her hands wound around his neck as his enclosed her waist, pulling her against him. He could feel her breasts pressed into his chest and as his desire grew, he deepened his kiss.
Lu
cy gave a small cry of desire that further inflamed him and he began gathering her nightgown up around her waist, prompting her to do the same with his. They stepped apart as each drew the other’s gown off and tossed them aside. When they came back together there was a renewed urgency in both their actions and they began moving towards the bed.
Max fell back onto the covers as he hit the bed, pulling Lucy down with him and they giggled as they both moved to a more comfortable position in the middle of the bed. Max lay beside her and kissed her again as his hand began to roam her body, caressing and stroking her soft skin. Her hands ran through his hair, pulling on his dark locks, then began to go lower, running over his muscular back.
When Max’s hand dipped lower into her hot centre, she sighed into the kiss and spread her legs for him. Her nails began digging into his skin as he pleasured her, teasing and caressing her clitoris with a mixture of soft and firm strokes.
She cried out whenever he did anything particularly enjoyable and Max swallowed each cry, imagining saving them up for a rainy day. Finally her hands reached his buttocks and as she scratched her short nails across the muscles there, he almost came.
He broke the kiss for a moment, feeling breathless and looked down into her flushed face, her hair fanned out across the pillow like a golden halo.
His fingers continued to stimulate her slick channel, while her hand slipped between them now that there was room and she grasped his length, marvelling at how it could feel so hard, yet silky soft at the same time.
He suddenly increased the pressure of his strokes across her clit and she gasped with pleasure, closing her eyes as the delightful feelings between her thighs began to build to a peak.
“Oh, Max!” she cried and with another three quick caresses, her climax crashed through her and her features screwed up in exquisite ecstasy. After giving her a few moments to recover, he moved in between her legs and she placed him at her entrance but he didn’t enter her.
Instead he waited, just the head of his member enveloped in her inviting tightness, until she opened her eyes and looked up at him, no longer shy or bashful.
The Convenient Bride Page 4