Searching Hearts Box Set: Books 1-5

by St. Clair, Ellie

  In the meantime, he kept one of his men at his London house at all times to ensure Violet’s safety. He had asked the man to disguise himself as a servant, to keep Violet from additional worry. She still did not know the danger she was in, and Joshua did not want to cause her any fear.

  When he joined his wife at the dinner table two days following their marriage, he noted that color had mostly returned to her cheeks, and she took more than just a few bites of food. When asked, she also told him the room no longer spun when she stood, and her vision had become quite clear.

  “I believe we should take some time and visit Colemore,” he said as he poured himself a glass of wine.

  “Colemore?”

  “Yes, my country estate,” he replied, surprised that she didn’t know to where he was referring. He had forgotten that it had been such a short time since he had even met Violet, let alone married her. “It is less than a day’s ride from here. If you depart early enough tomorrow, you should make it in good time. I will follow soon after, once I finish my business in London.”

  “Oh,” she said, and he saw a flicker of disappointment cross her face. “We will not travel together? Can I not wait until you are also prepared to leave London? I still have not quite unpacked since moving here and would like to somewhat settle before we depart.”

  At her dismayed words, he took another tactic. “It will be our honeymoon, some time to ourselves in the country. I only suggest you go ahead in order to familiarize yourself with the home and the staff. I should not be much behind you at all.”

  In truth, he wasn’t sure how long he would stay in London. He would prefer to remain until he could determine who was behind these crimes, but he was becoming quite frustrated with the lack of progress they were making.

  She simply nodded at his response, but he didn’t miss the way her jaw tightened as she looked down at her plate, eating only a few additional morsels before declaring that she was quite full. He felt a pang of guilt in his chest. He didn’t want to disappoint her, but his first priority was keeping her alive.

  Joshua also desperately wanted to consummate his marriage with his wife. He would like to do so the coming night, but he had a pre-arranged meeting with his men that he could not cancel. They had gone down to the Thames to speak with the street urchins to determine if any had seen men depositing Sir Whitby’s body in the river the other night, and he was eager to speak to them as to whether they had learned anything.

  Joining his wife in their marriage bed would have to wait for another evening, he thought with a sigh. Looking at her across the table, the glow of the flame of the candles lit the soft skin where dark tendrils of hair grazed against her cheek. He longed to reach out and brush his fingers in that same place to feel for himself, but he restrained himself. If he started, he would never be able to leave her, and he must, if for nothing else than her own safety.

  He always took these investigations quite seriously, knowing that there were lives at stake and he was intent on finding justice for innocent victims. Now, however, he felt more determined than ever to find who was perpetrating these crimes and after Violet’s life.

  9

  Four days after her hasty marriage, Violet was ensconced in her new country home as the wife of an earl, and feeling quite alone.

  "You are a married lady now," she told her reflection, as her maid began to unpack her things. "You must simply accept it." Gingerly, she felt the wound on her forehead, still an angry, nasty gash, and a reminder of all that had occurred. It was not as though she was sad with her new situation in life, simply that it had all happened so quickly that she was struggling to adjust. On top of that, everything that Lord Greville had said, as regarded his affection for her, rang round and round in her head.

  Over the two days in London following their wedding, she had hardly seen her new husband. When she did, he was polite, cordial, and complimentary, but Violet felt something was lacking. She had nothing to complain about, and yet she was becoming dismayed that her marriage was following those typical of most members of the peerage, an arrangement between man and wife that followed what was required of them. Where was the man she had met that night in the gardens, the night that had begun dreadfully and yet ended in exhilaration? She supposed this was why one did not marry a man the day after meeting him — because one evening did not truly reveal one’s character.

  She still held hope that the words of affection he had spoken to her were true. If they were, perhaps they could develop into something more, and these days together in the country might be the start of a marriage with more significance than two people of a certain social stature in an arranged partnership.

  The dinner gong rang, startling her. It was more than a little embarrassing to have to turn to her maid and ask her to guide her to the dinner table, as she found her new home to be quite expansive.

  Violet was still awaiting Lord Greville, who had promised he would arrive shortly after she departed for the country. In fact, she expected him at dinner this very evening. Violet’s stomach began to flurry with nerves, her hands trembling slightly as she followed the maid down to the dining room.

  Pushing the door open, Violet found, to her disappointment, that the room was empty save for a footman or two. Knowing that she could not show her emotions to the staff, she sat down at the table and clasped her hands in her lap. There was a second place set, however, which buoyed her slowly sinking hope. Perhaps her husband would be with her very soon.

  As Violet waited patiently, she reflected on the man she now called husband. She knew very little about him and had only seen him twice since their hasty marriage, for he had claimed that she needed to rest and recover. Their only real conversation had been dinner the night before she had left — or, rather, before he had sent her away. She could see none of the affection he had promised he held for her, despite her awareness that she found him a highly attractive gentleman. While Violet understood that her mother was extremely delighted with the situation and her father pleased that she had found a suitable husband, Violet could find no such delight herself.

  Deep down, she worried that the affection Lord Greville swore he held for her was nothing more than a lie, as he was intent on making her his bride. She was not sure why he would wish to do such a thing, especially to wed someone such as her, who was both a bluestocking and something of a wallflower. He had claimed that he found her bluestocking tendencies to be a positive attribute, but she was not sure now that he had spoken the truth.

  Violet sighed to herself. In short, she had not expected to feel so alone and confused so soon after being wed. The man had left her in her own company, sending her to his country estate whilst he remained in town. This was exactly why she had avoided marriage — this type of arrangement, of living separate lives, held no appeal to her. She would rather still be unattached. At least, then, she would be with her family.

  Even though all of her things were now here, she felt as though she were a stranger, residing in a place that she had no business being in. She did not want to touch anything, nor make any changes, finding it quite strange to be referred to as ‘Lady Greville’ by the housekeeper and staff. Sighing to herself, Violet indicated that the first course should be served, finding that she could not wait any longer. Her husband would simply have to forgive her hunger.

  * * *

  Three hours later, Violet sat alone in the extravagant drawing room, frustrated by the dampness on her cheeks. She had not meant to become so upset but found the aching loneliness, coupled with confusion, more than she could bear. She felt like a pawn used in some kind of game, where Lord Greville was the one in charge and she was simply to be turned to his will.

  “My dear!”

  Startled, Violet jumped visibly, clutching at the upholstered arms of her chair as she attempted to rise to her feet. The book that had been lying unread in her lap fell to the floor.

  Lord Greville came into view, his face wreathed in smiles. "I must apologize for my tardiness," h
e said, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to it. "I was unavoidably detained." His smile slowly slid from his face as he took in her features, one thumb reaching up to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

  “It is good to see you, my lord,” Violet said, clearing her throat as her heart thumped wildly in her chest.

  “Sad, my lady?” he replied, softly. “Why so?”

  Violet shook her head, finding that the ache in her throat made it difficult to speak. She could not put words to how much she had struggled with both her own thoughts and her own company, finding her altered situation incredibly difficult to accept.

  “I am sorry for my absence, truly,” he said, moving closer to her so that she could not avert her eyes from his. “Had I known you were so miserable –”

  “Do you truly care at all for me, my lord?” Violet asked, abruptly, her eyes searching his. “I must know the truth.”

  He frowned, his dark eyes glittering with some unspoken emotion as they met hers. “You do not believe me?”

  Aware that he had not answered her question, Violet lifted her chin a touch. “You promised me that you did hold me in some kind of affection, but have then seen very little of me since we made our vows.”

  “I needed to let you recover,” he protested, sounding surprised.

  “And then to send me up here, whilst you remained in town?”

  One long finger tugged at his cravat, as though he was finding it a little uncomfortable. "Our marriage was swift, I know. I had some things to take care of before I returned here." She saw him smile at her, but she narrowed her eyes a little, thinking that something in his demeanor was somewhat strained.

  “I am here now, am I not?” he continued, clearing his throat. “I know things have moved very quickly for you, Violet, but it is done now and I think it best we try and find a way forward together.”

  It was not the answer she had been hoping for, her shoulders slumping as she dropped her eyes from his. He sounded too practical, too matter-of-fact. These were not words of love, nor of affection. Had she been duped?

  A gentle finger touched her chin, slowly turning her face back towards his. Violet cursed the growing sensations in her belly, hating that his touch could arise such passions in her almost immediately. She could not help but recall how he had kissed her in the gardens, her heart thumping wildly in her chest as she saw the way his eyes had now become dark pools.

  "I might prove my affections to you, if you are still in doubt," Lord Greville murmured, his hands now dropping to her waist. "We have wed after all, and there is nothing to prevent such actions. If my words don’t convince you, perhaps I can show you that I do have feelings for you.”

  Violet found that she could not breathe, lost in the sudden intensity of the moment.

  “Although I must insist that you call me Joshua,” he said, even more quietly. “I do not like my wife to refer to me as every other being does. It is an intimacy to be called one’s given name by one’s wife.” He paused, his mouth only inches from hers, evidently waiting for her to do as he had asked.

  “Joshua,” Violet breathed, discovering that her hands had found the lapels on his coat and were clinging to it. He smiled softly at his name on her lips, before dropping his head lower and finding her mouth with his.

  His kiss was slow and unhurried, gradually fanning bright flames that shot through her veins. Violet had never been caught up in such sensations before, finding her breath coming quickly as he tore his mouth from hers and began to press gentle kisses down the curve of her neck and towards her shoulders. The fire turned into a roar, and she did not know what to do, other than accept his embrace.

  “Not here,” he growled, suddenly, catching her up in his arms and striding with her towards the door. “You deserve to be bedded in a place of comfort, where we can take our time.”

  Violet could not help but take her hand from around his neck and gently touch his lips with one finger as he climbed the stairs, sparks shooting from her fingers all the way to her heart. Warmth pooled in her belly as they entered his bedchamber, and she stumbled back a little as he placed her down, only so that he might lock the door.

  It was the first time she had been in his quarters, and the room mirrored hers, but with deeper colors, resembling the woodland that surrounded Colemore. The paintings on the deep navy walls were of nature and greenery, and a large hearth warmed the room. The bed — her heart skipped as she contemplated it — dominated the room, the dark green canopies flowing over the high mattress.

  “I will show you the depth my affections,” he promised her, beginning to remove his coat, which was soon followed by his cravat and shirt, leaving him standing bare-chested before her. “You must simply trust me.”

  Violet found herself drawn to him, her eyes taking in his strong form before her fingers found his warm skin, trailing the deep rivets of his chest and abdominals. She was amazed to discover that her delicate touch made him catch his breath, as she explored his strong frame with great gentleness. She had never seen the male form like this, and certainly never touched it before, discovering that it filled her with a great number of sensations.

  "You will permit me?" he asked, gently pushing her dress from her shoulders so that her bare skin was open to him. Not hearing any protest, he pressed his mouth to the curve of her neck once more, his fingers finding the ties at the back of her dress. Violet could do nothing other than allow him to undress her, realizing that he was something of an expert at such things. Before long, she too was standing as bare as he, save for their undergarments. There was no shame in being so unclothed, for the heat in his eyes told her that he found her more than a little enticing.

  “You are very beautiful, my dear Violet,” he murmured, running his hand down over her arms so that his fingers brushed the curve of her breasts. “There is no need to be embarrassed, love. This is what we are meant to do.”

  “I am not embarrassed,” Violet replied, a slight shudder running through her as he disrobed her completely, pulling off her chemise and stepping back so that he might remove the rest of his own clothes. She closed her eyes tightly as he did so, finding that, despite her words, she was a little afraid to look upon the male form.

  “Here,” he murmured, stepping closer so that their warm bodies were touching. “Do not be afraid to look, my love, or to touch. I want you to do so.”

  Violet’s breath was coming so fast, she thought she might faint. Looking over his body, she struggled to comprehend what she saw, suddenly terrified of what was to come. Lord Greville must have seen it in her eyes, for he drew her into his arms at once, brushing his fingers down over her back and setting her whole body on fire. Violet felt something press against her belly, startling her entirely. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to be afraid, forcing herself to relax.

  “I shall teach you a great many things,” her husband murmured in her ear, making her jump. “This is a wonderful pleasure, my dear wife, and one that I hope we will share often. It is the ultimate expression of love.”

  Violet clung to those words as his lips once more found the curve of her neck. Every time he touched her, she shook or shuddered, overwhelmed by sensations. He was so close to her, her skin began to burn with heat. She reached out and touched the smooth hair dusting his chest, and, as she did so, he pulled back and drew in a ragged breath.

  She took a small step back and looked into his eyes, seeing the raw edge to his gaze, the heat burning within. She braced her hands against his chest and kissed him gently on the lips, her movements tentative and unsure.

  It was as though she had lit a roaring fire in him. His kisses became hard and firm, his hands grasping her around the waist and lifting her bodily, before placing her onto the bed. Violet arched upward as his hand reached for her breasts, trying not to lose herself in the wave of sensations that he sparked in her.

  "Trust me, Violet," he breathed, taking his mouth from hers and beginning to kiss his way down her collarbone, then down to her breasts. A soft so
und swirled from her throat as his lips kissed each mound, in turn, his hands continuing their gentle caresses further down her body. Violet grew a little ashamed of the new sounds that were almost forced from her throat, his touch of mouth and hands bringing her into a world she had never experienced before.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he said, as he moved back up towards her. “These are good things, Violet, my love. Don’t hide your desire from me.”

  She could not move, could not speak, could only feel him press at her most private of places, as she was unable to ask the questions that poured into her mind. He took his time, his breathing ragged as he pushed into her slowly, making her cry out.

  “There will be pain, but only for a moment,” he promised, and, just as he said those words, a sharp tear had her squeezing her eyes closed, her fingers digging into his arms. “It will ease,” she heard him say. “Just breathe.”

  Tears pricked at her eyes, but his quiet murmur and his gentle fingers brushing at her temples slowly began to calm her. The pain subsided, and, at length, she managed to open her eyes.

  “It only hurts the first time,” he promised, smiling gently. “We are one, now, Violet. You are mine, in your entirety, connected together, body and soul.”

  Violet wanted to respond, but, as he began to move slowly within her, heat began to build once more inside her. Her soft cries grew in intensity as he pressed his fingers to her core, making her more aware of her body than ever before. It felt as though she was growing closer to something, something she had never before experienced. Her hands tightened around the tightly corded muscles of his arms, her breathing becoming quick and heavy.