by Anne Herries
Jane showed him some of her favourite plants. They discovered that they shared a passion for rare and delicate species, and some time was spent discussing the gardens they might build together at their future homes.
* * *
It was as they returned to the house that they saw a gentleman walking towards them.
‘Good afternoon, Miss Lanchester—Marlowe, I trust you are recovering from your wound?’
‘Avonlea, it is good to see you,’ George said and offered his hand. ‘I am much better, thank you. We shall not need to delay the wedding.’
‘I am delighted to hear it. I wish you both good fortune and much happiness.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ Jane replied. ‘How is Lucinda?’
‘Very well, thank you. And I have had a letter from Mariah, giving her destination in Italy. She asked if you might think of visiting her this winter.’
‘I believe I shall be otherwise engaged, sir. As you know, I am to marry Lord George. However, I think my brother may wish to travel.’
‘Lucinda thought he might,’ the duke said and smiled. ‘If Mariah could be settled happily, both my wife and I would be very happy.’
‘As should I,’ Jane agreed. ‘If you leave me her destination, I shall write to Mariah and tell her of my wedding.’
* * *
‘You look very beautiful, Jane,’ her brother said as she came down the stairs on the morning of her wedding. ‘Marlowe is a very lucky man.’
‘I think I am the fortunate one.’
Jane’s smile lit her face, making her beautiful. Her gown was of a warm cream silk trimmed with lace of a coffee tone. Her satin slippers were dyed to match the lace and her bonnet of satin was tied with ribbons of a matching shade. Around her throat she wore three strands of creamy pearls fastened with a large emerald-and-diamond clasp. She wore pearl drops on her ears and an emerald-and-diamond bracelet on her arm.
‘Marlowe has certainly been generous with his gifts,’ Andrew said. The earrings had been his own gift, together with some pieces of furniture, silver and glass that had been their mother’s, which he knew meant a great deal to Jane.
‘He is always generous,’ Jane replied with a smile. ‘But I was not speaking of gifts, Andrew. George is brave, kind, witty and caring. I do not think I could have chosen better.’
‘As a matter of fact, neither do I,’ Andrew replied, surprising her.
‘Thank you.’ Jane reached up to kiss his cheek. ‘That is the best present you could have given me, dearest Andrew. Your approval means more to me than anything.’
‘Well, I am glad to have settled things,’ Andrew said, a slight colour in his cheeks. ‘I have taken your advice, Jane. I intend to travel for a while—and then I may settle down here.’
Jane studied his face and smiled. ‘I do not know why you have hesitated, but you should go to Italy,’ she said. ‘If you love Mariah, ask her to marry you, Andrew. Unless you ask, you will never know.’
‘Yes, that is my thought on the matter,’ he agreed and looked pleased. ‘And now we had best leave, for we do not wish to keep George waiting.’
* * *
‘I am so happy,’ Jane said as she came out of church to the sound of bells pealing, her hand upon her husband’s arm. ‘It seemed as if a shadow hung over us for so long, George, but now the sun is shining and we are free to be happy.’
‘Yes, we shall be happy,’ he said and leaned forwards to kiss her lightly on the lips.
A cheer went up from the crowd of villagers waiting to see the bride and groom leave the church. Children came forwards with gifts of flowers and a straw doll, which was a country tradition said to ensure fertility. Jane took it and then threw her own posy of flowers, which was caught by a young village girl who giggled and looked shyly at a young man in the crowd. Jane wished her luck. Then George took Jane’s hand and they were showered with confetti as they ran towards the carriage.
Once inside, George leaned forwards to kiss Jane on the lips. This time his kiss was neither light nor brief, his tongue meeting hers in a delicious twirl of sensual delight that promised much.
Jane was breathing heavily when she drew away, her cheeks a little warm as she gazed into his eyes and saw the passion there.
‘I love you so much,’ he said huskily. ‘I have scarce known how to wait these past weeks. You grow lovelier every day, Jane.’
‘Do I?’ she asked, oddly shy. Her heart was racing and she longed to be in his arms once more, but the carriage was slowing and they had to greet their servants who had waited at home to prepare the reception. ‘I love you more than I can say, George dearest.’
The door of the carriage was opened and the steps let down. George jumped out and gave his hand to Jane, then, when she was on the step, he swept her up in his arms and carried her past the watching eyes and into the house. The family servants clapped in approval and laughed as he set her down and then kissed her full on the mouth in full view of the entire household.
Their love was so evident and everyone felt privileged to share in their happiness, the smiles and laughter rippling through the watching retainers.
‘May you always be as happy as you are today, my lord—my lady.’ Andrew’s housekeeper came bustling up to them, her face wreathed in smiles. ‘We all want to give you our best wishes, Lady Marlowe. It has been a privilege to serve you—and we hope you will visit with us sometimes.’
‘Thank you, I shall,’ Jane said, feeling a warm glow inside. She took George’s hand and went into the huge room that had been prepared for the reception. Flowers were everywhere and the air smelled of the delicate sweet perfume of roses.
They stood just inside the door, greeting their guests as they arrived back from the church. Everyone had been so generous, and, in another reception room, the lavish gifts were set out on a long table for the guests to admire.
The Duke of Avonlea was one of the last guests to arrive. He shook George’s hand, then came to Jane.
‘You look beautiful, Lady Marlowe,’ he said and kissed her hand. ‘I must wish you happiness…’ He lowered his voice. ‘Lucinda was not quite well enough to attend, but she sent you her best wishes and told me that she wishes to give a dance for you when you return from your honeymoon. She should then be delivered from her confinement and we shall be entertaining again.’
Jane thanked him and he went off to talk to Andrew. She knew that her brother had messages to take to Mariah when they met in Italy.
* * *
Jane’s heart swelled with pleasure as she circulated through the large room, greeting and thanking her guests. She was excited and happy, laughing and talking, enjoying the pleasures of the day.
George’s arm was now fully recovered and they performed a waltz together when the dancing began. After that some of his friends begged for a dance with the bride and she was laughingly passed from one to the other until George put his foot down and reclaimed her.
‘How much longer does this go on?’ he asked, looking down at her with such longing that Jane laughed. ‘Much as I love all our friends, I want to be alone with you.’
‘We shall leave very soon now,’ she promised. ‘I shall say goodbye to my godmother and brother—then I shall go up to change. You may have the carriage brought round in half an hour.’
‘I am too impatient,’ he said. ‘You were enjoying yourself. We shall stay another hour and then you may go up.’
‘I am ready now,’ Jane told him. ‘Say your own farewells, George dearest. I shall not keep you waiting long.’
* * *
‘How lovely this house is,’ Jane cried as she first saw the soft red of faded bricks and the low sloping roof of dark slate. Roses were growing up the walls and she thought their smell would perfume the house when the windows were opened. ‘It is one of the prettiest buildings I have ever seen.’
‘It is not as large as my other property, but it was my father’s house and his before him,’ George told her. He stood holding her hand, as they looked at
the house in the afternoon sunlight. They had spent their wedding night at a house George had borrowed from a friend, breaking their journey. ‘I am glad you like it, Jane. If you listen carefully, you can hear the sea. The cove is just beyond that wooded rise.’
‘Is it a private cove?’ Jane looked at him in surprise. ‘Can we go and look—is it far?’
‘Not too far,’ he said and smiled, offering his hand. ‘We must say hello to our people first, Jane.’
George took her hand and led her to the line of waiting servants, introducing the butler and housekeeper, and then each and every one of the maids, footmen and even the boot boy. He needed no prompting to recall all their names and Jane saw that he was respected and liked by his people, most of whom had been with the family for years.
George swept her up and carried her over the threshold. He kissed her and then set her down, before taking her hand to lead her up the wide staircase.
‘These are your rooms, my lady,’ he said, taking her through a pair of double doors at the far end of the corridor. ‘I hope the décor is to your taste, but if not you must change it as you will.’
Jane looked about her. The sitting room had clearly been refurbished very recently in shades of green and cream. The furniture was satinwood, delicate and pretty and crafted, if she was not mistaken, in Mr Sheraton’s workrooms.
‘This is so beautiful, and the décor is exactly to my taste.’ Jane looked up at him with pleasure. ‘Is that why you asked my favourite colour?’
‘One of the reasons,’ he agreed and took her hand, drawing her into the adjoining bedchamber. The walls were decorated with a pale duck’s-egg-blue silk paper and the ceiling had a frieze of plaster flowers and leaves, painted in pale pink and green; the large bed was of mahogany with four posts with delicate reeded carving and covered with a quilt of padded satin. The magnificent tallboy and the chests each side of the bed were of polished mahogany and the writing desk before the bow window had a green-leather top tooled with gold. The elbow chair set before it had a green-striped silk seat. It was set with silver accoutrements and a vase of red roses.
‘Beautiful,’ Jane said. She glanced around the room, looking for a door. ‘Where do you sleep?’
‘Here, most of the time, I hope,’ George said, giving her a look that made her heart race as she remembered his passionate loving of the previous night. ‘But my rooms are through here.’
He opened a door that led into a dressing room and through to a bedchamber at the other side. Looking round, Jane saw that the walls were covered with a bluish-green silk paper and the hangings were also green and cream, touched here and there with gilt; all the furnishings were also of dark mahogany and might have been examples of Mr Chippendale’s work.
‘Yes, I can see you here,’ Jane said and moved towards him, putting her arms about his waist and gazing up into his eyes. ‘You have made a beautiful home for us, George. I shall be so happy living here—and the garden looks perfect for our children.’
‘How many shall we have? A boy for you and a girl for me?’
Jane gurgled with laughter as she leaned into him, offering her lips for his kiss. ‘As many as God sends us,’ she said. ‘I want your babies, my love, as I want you.’
George cupped her buttocks with his hands, holding her pressed against him so that she felt the heat and hardness of his bulging manhood. Her arms were about his neck as they kissed, their tongues tangling in the sweet dance that made her melt with longing. She pressed closer, wanting to be his once more.
‘Careful, my lady,’ he murmured hoarsely. ‘Much more of this and you will find yourself waiting for your tea.’
‘That would never do,’ Jane said with a provocative glance. ‘What would the servants think if we did not go down to the parlour, but stayed here instead?’
‘I’m damned if I care,’ George said and swept her off her feet, carrying her to the bed. ‘You are a minx, Lady Marlowe, and I think I need to give you a lesson in how to behave.’
‘Yes, my lord, I think you do,’ Jane said and smiled as he took off her shoes and tossed them to the ground. ‘I cannot wait to begin my lessons.’
Afterword
Andrew stood at the window of his study, looking out at the night sky. Jane’s wedding was over; she had left on her honeymoon and all the guests had gone. It was strange how empty his house felt. He had never expected that he would miss his sister this much or feel so alone.
How ridiculous! He might have married years ago had he wished, but, after a first calf-love that ended in bitter regret, Andrew had not thought of marriage. His relationship with his sister had been close for many years, and he’d put his disappointment from his mind, making a life in the army for himself and leaving the estate to Jane.
He had left the army because of a distasteful incident that had left him feeling disillusioned with the behaviour of fellow officers. Andrew’s own behaviour had been exemplary, but the disgrace of some of his friends had left a shadow. The death of an officer, the rape and murder of an officer’s wife in circumstances that had never been fully explained, had left a nasty taste in his mouth. He had planned to put the incident behind him and make a life on his estate, perhaps marry.
His feelings for Lucinda had been strong and, had she been free, he might have asked her to marry him. However, she was Avonlea’s wife and very much in love with him. Mariah Fanshawe had always been around when he was a youth and he had not taken much notice of her when she returned to Avonlea after she was widowed, until she shot the rogue who had blackmailed and then tried to murder Lucinda Avonlea. He had felt admiration for her coolness and quick thinking, and become aware that she was no longer a spoiled girl, but a very beautiful and exciting woman.
He’d known that Mariah was flirting with him in the weeks following that incident, but he had not been certain of his feelings for her. Admiration for her spirit, yes, and an awareness of her beauty and her exotic perfume, the way she carried herself and her pride. It was her pride that had made him stop and think. Mariah was brave, but she was also reckless and inclined to believe that she could have her own way whenever she wished. Andrew had wondered if their personalities were too alike for a comfortable marriage and so he’d hesitated—and then he’d heard of the rumours circulating.
He had thought the scandal of the dead officer and the officer’s wife had been settled, but now it seemed there was some doubt. Accusations were flying back and forth and even Andrew’s own name had come into the affair.
He was innocent of any wrongdoing, but he had been involved. He had known something that he did not declare at the original court inquiry. His commanding officer had believed him completely, but there was still a mystery. A mystery that Andrew had pledged himself to solve.
A man’s good name was in jeopardy. Unless Andrew could help him clear his name he might be court-martialled and, if found guilty, hung for murder—and Andrew could be accused of being an accessory to the crime.
How could Andrew ask any woman to marry him with something of that nature hanging over him? After Mariah’s abduction he had been torn with grief and the realisation that she meant more to him than he’d imagined. Jane had advised him to ask Mariah to marry him—but supposing he was unable to get to the bottom of the old scandal?
Nothing could be proved against him, but the accusation might be there—and if it were generally known the scandal would be unpleasant.
Andrew intended to travel to Italy and give Mariah the letters entrusted to him. However, there was another reason for his journey. He must trace a man who had once been his best friend, a man who had disappeared after his wife was raped and murdered.
Until he found Laurence, Andrew would not have time to investigate his own feelings for Mariah. Was he truly in love with her—or had he merely been concerned for a young and lovely woman who had been so cruelly abducted?
He grimaced as he turned and went upstairs to instruct his valet to pack. Only time would reveal the answers to all the things he n
eeded to know.
ISBN-13: 9781460349328
THE MYSTERIOUS LORD MARLOWE
© Anne Herries 2012
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