Taming the Shrew

by Cari Hislop

  “Get out!” A satanic piercing scream brought the men to their feet as they winced in pain. “Get out of my house you ugly rude heartless miscreants.”

  Hervey reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills. “Avery, take the boys to our usual hotel for dinner and have them set a place for me. Quick, leave before she...” He ducked as her bowl flew past his head. “Go.” Within seconds the newlyweds had been abandoned. The Hervey creature looked down the table at her with an unhappy expression and calmly said, “Juliana, do not throw things at me. That is not acceptable behaviour.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do. I hate you. You’re probably the worst lover in the whole of England.”

  An ear splitting scream of rage was followed by her glass flying past Hervey’s head.

  He took a deep breath and calmly stood up and walked down the length of the table. “You can call me what you like, but do not throw things at me. It hurts my feelings.”

  “You married me under false pretences; you let me think you were a reputed lover. You’re nothing but a philandering de Vere. I’ve a mind to annul this stupid farce and find a cheaper husband who doesn’t have eight doppelgangers propping up his overrated reputation.” Shivering with cold she glared as he stepped closer and lifted her hand to strike his face, but her wrist was easily captured in a soft iron grip.

  “I would never hit you and I expect the same courtesy.” The words were mild, but firm.

  Juliana’s lips trembled as her eyes filled with tears, “I want an annulment.”

  “As you wish, but you won’t find another man who’ll be as gentle and good to you as your first husband.”

  She snorted in disgust, “Why would you be gentle and good to me?”

  “Why do you think?”

  Juliana’s chest tightened as she sobbed, “I have no idea why you do anything you Hervey you...if you are Hervey. You could be that awful Avery creature and I wouldn’t know...you’re all so alike. I hate my life, I want to die.”

  “Sweetheart, I’m Hervey. I’m the only de Vere who longs to share your bed and I’d be heartbroken if you died.”

  “Why? No one cares about me...”

  “I care.”

  “My stupid mother couldn’t be bothered to attend my wedding. She loves laudanum more than me...” Juliana found herself sobbing into a warm brown silk waistcoat as gently arms held her until she cried out her rage. She drew a shuddered breath and inhaled the same pleasant masculine scent as before. Sniffing back her excess tears, she listened to the faint beating of her husband’s heart and slowly became aware of the sensation of being pressed up against a man. There was nothing about it she could dislike. The Hervey creature seemed content to let her remain where she was, so she breathed in his smell until she felt calm. Sniffing away her nervousness she lifted her head. “Did you say you care about me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Why do you think?”

  “Because you’re mad?”

  “Some think so...”

  “Why did you kiss me on the cheek after the ceremony? You’re supposed to kiss the bride on the lips. I didn’t marry you to be kissed on the cheek.”

  Juliana watched in amazement as the man’s pale cheeks flushed bright red, “I was afraid my enthusiasm might embarrass you.”

  “Kiss me now.” Juliana held her breath as his adoring eyes approached.

  “Have you ever been kissed?”

  “No.”

  “It’s best to do it slow the first time, like savouring something sweet.”

  “Just kiss me before I change my mind.” Her heart was racing as his lips hovered. Was he waiting for a specific moment? The smell of lemons revived memories of summer; she could hear birds singing in the garden, taste sweet lemonade and smell fresh cut hay. Warm breath caressed her face taunting her curiosity. Closing her eyes his lips landed as light as butterfly wings sending a strange euphoric sensation. Her lips were gently explored and then released. She stood there unable to move; her eyes closed her mouth open. His deep sigh, like an ancient wind rustling over the crown of an oak tree, penetrated her skin and sank into her bones. She was pulled into closer embrace as her lips were reclaimed with unrestrained delight. Her lower lip held prisoner, it seemed only right that she capture his upper lip and restrain it before exploring his offered warmth. Euphoria filled her veins as she realised she was making the Hervey creature tremble. Reluctantly set free, she watched him open his eyes and smile as he licked his lips. He silently held her gaze, caressing her with the close rise and fall of his chest. “I like your eyes.”

  “They’re brown, my second favourite colour.”

  “What’s your favourite colour?”

  “Copper red, like living flames.”

  Juliana scowled as her stomach knotted, “Are you making fun of my hair?”

  “Sweetheart, your hair is a treasure. I know wigmakers who’d pay good money for your hair.”

  “Isn’t five thousand pounds enough? Will I wake up to find myself shorn like a dumb sheep?”

  “I’d rather fall on my sword than cut off your hair Sweetheart. I love your hair. I hope you’ll let me comb it for you one day. I used to comb my mother’s hair when she was ill. She said I was very gentle.”

  “I’m not letting you near my hair with a comb.”

  “You’re shivering...” Juliana shivered harder as warm hands ran up and down her bare arms.

  “I’m freezing. I need to change out of this stupid dress. I should have worn thick wool. It’s not as if anyone cares what I wear.”

  “I care.”

  She felt suddenly self-conscious, but he didn’t offer any compliments. Did he think she looked frumpy? “Mother uses the master suite; you’re three doors down from me.”

  “Do I have to sleep three doors down?”

  “Yes.”

  “I think you’d be warmer with a Hervey creature in your bed. I promise not to bite.”

  She scowled at his hopeful wink. “You’ll do your duty and go away. I’m not sharing my room or my bedding.”

  “As you wish...” Juliana’s fears of the evening ahead were forgotten as he took hold of her face with both hands and warmed her lips with a long kiss that sent a heat all the way to her toes. She felt an awful panic as he pulled away his lips, but then he pressed his nose to her cheek causing blissful peace. After an eternal moment he sighed, kissed her nose and stepped back. “I need to go out, but I’ll return later.” He turned and walked towards the door, but this time he stopped and looked back as if he wanted to say something, but he blew her a kiss and was gone. Feeling oddly disappointed she blindly made her way to her room where she waited up for her husband, until her teary eyes closed themselves and pulled her into nightmares of being financially dependent on a penniless husband.

  Chapter 5

  After dining with his brothers, Hervey had an uncharacteristic urge to play dice. His brothers, fearful that their meal ticket would be murdered by his bride, encouraged him to visit a gaming hall where their seven orange heads drew eyes and sneers. Hervey’s run of luck continued as he mentally stewed his situation. His body demanded he run home and climb into his wife’s bed, but his heart had been given a taste of what he’d feel if his wife surrendered with love. The thought made him sigh with longing. The miracle of being Juliana’s husband was starting to pale against the prospect of winning her heart. Her kisses had tied his insides into the sweetest knot. He could no longer believe that making love to the woman he loved would quench his longing. He suddenly faced the prospect of feeling as unfulfilled bedding his beloved bride as he had pleasuring other men’s wives. He enjoyed making love, but it had always left him feeling hollow after the glow of pleasure faded. He wanted it to mean something; he wanted his beloved to crawl into his arms and make love to him with her heart as well as her body.

  By three in the morning he’d made a plan. He knew what he had to do. Waking his sleeping brothers he accompanied them back to his house an
d fell into his bed fully dressed. After three hours of sleep he eagerly hurried back to his wife’s house without shaving or changing his clothes, his pockets bulging with his winnings.

  Enthroned in his new library he slowly sipped down a cup of chocolate while reading the previous day’s papers. The expected fireworks soon started; he could hear his beloved was awake and unhappy as she screamed at some unseen servant, “Where is that miscreant Hervey creature? My husband...who else would I be talking about? There’s only one Hervey creature...He’s in the library? I’m going to kill him! I don’t care if it’s illegal and when I want a sermon I’ll hire a vicar.” A few minutes later the library door slammed into the wall demanding his attention. He leaned over to see his wife’s heaving bosoms barely restrained by a low cut greenish-blue nightdress, glorious flames of copper trailing over her shoulders and down her back. His blood raced through his veins daring him to defy his lust.

  “Good morning Sweetheart, did you sleep well?”

  “Where have you been?” The growl promised retribution. “I expected you to come do your duty last night.” The savage words seemed mild when followed by a scream of rage. “I waited up for you, you heartless lying miscreant.”

  “I told you I’d return later...”

  “Returning twelve hours later is not returning later, it’s returning the next day you hateful orange monster. Where have you been?”

  “Playing dice...”

  “Dice?” Her eyes nearly popped out of her head. “You were throwing dice instead of fulfilling your conjugal duty? I hate...you!” The last word was drawn out into another scream of fury. The scream abruptly ceased as he casually pulled three bags from his pockets and threw them on the small table next to him. “What is that?”

  “My winnings, yesterday was the luckiest day of my life. You look delicious. Can I have a kiss?”

  “No.” Her voice was imperious. “I married you to be a married lady; you will shave that orange mould off your face and bed me or else.”

  “Can I tell you a secret? There is nothing I’d rather be doing right now then making love to you; you look like a goddess...” He allowed himself a loud sigh as he ogled the outlines of her charms. “...you ravish me.”

  She looked torn between wanting to believe him and kill him. “Then shave your face and do your duty. I thought you said you cared.” The words were filled with pain.

  “I care very much.”

  “Then make me your wife.”

  “I’ll happily oblige you on one small condition; call me Sweetheart and say it like you mean it.”

  Her eyes narrowed as her nostrils flared. “You’re not my sweetheart and I couldn’t even pretend to mean it. I hate you!”

  “That’s unfortunate for me, but at least you’ll never die in childbed.”

  She clenched her fists and screamed before snarling, “I didn’t marry you to decorate my library. I married you to be a married lady. You’re breaking the contract you hateful orange fortune hunter...”

  “Don’t be cruel Juliana. It’s not my fault I have orange hair and I’m certainly not a fortune hunter. If you want me to make love to you; call me Sweetheart, say it like you mean it and I’ll oblige you with pleasure. I’m not asking you to stand on your head.”

  “I refuse to feed your self-conceit. Do your duty or I’ll annul you from my life and buy a man who will.”

  “Men can’t perform on demand Juliana. Even if you call me Sweetheart I may not be able to make you my wife till later today; I’ve only had three hours of sleep.”

  “You orange cur, if you insist on this stupid mindless condition I’ll demand an annulment.”

  “As you wish...but if you annul me from your life I fear in my grief I may publicly declare the ills of being your husband in the hope that you’ll be left with no option other than to remarry me.”

  “Are you...are you blackmailing me?”

  “Sweetheart, I just want to be your husband.”

  Her angry eyes filled with tears, “Why would you want to be my husband?”

  “Why do you think?”

  “I haven’t the slightest idea...because you’re an idiot?”

  “Perhaps, but I have a burning need to hear you call me Sweetheart. Can’t you just pretend I’m the man of your dreams?”

  “More like the man of my nightmares, I refuse to address you with a sentimental lie.”

  “Are you’re afraid of the marriage bed? I won’t hurt you.”

  “I’m not afraid of anything. I waited up half the night for...”

  “Your Sweetheart?”

  “For my husband to do his duty and instead he was playing dice. I hate dice!”

  “I’m going to buy you a present.”

  “I don’t want a present. I just want you to make me your wife.”

  “You are my wife. I married you last night. It was better than a dream.”

  “I bought you to make me a wife. Are you coming to bed or not?”

  “Bought me? How did you buy me?”

  “I have a fortune and you are penniless. If you don’t undress and come do your duty I won’t...I won’t buy you any clothes until you do.”

  “I don’t need any clothes...”

  “I won’t buy you anything.”

  “I don’t need anything...”

  “I hate you!” The scream of rage made his ears pop. “Come to bed or else...”

  “Or else what?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ll think of something hellish.”

  “As you wish...but I insist on undressing in your room. The sight of my freckles might frighten your servants. May I hold your hand?”

  “No, I may need it to push you down the stairs.”

  “That would be a waste of a good de Vere.” Hervey threw down his paper and picked up his winnings. “Lead on good lady, your luscious charms have led me into temptation.” Half way up the stairs Hervey ran into his scowling wife as she abruptly stopped and turned around. “Sorry Sweetheart, I thought you were leading me to your chamber.” He reached out and caressed her leg, “You may lead me wherever you like.”

  “Are you drunk?”

  “No, will you dance with me now that I’m your husband?”

  “In public?” The two words were spat with incredulous horror.

  “That is where most people dance. I’ve led you through every imaginable dance in my dreams...”

  “I will not be making a public spectacle of my ill-chosen union. You may dance with the devil; you’ll never dance with me.”

  Hervey felt the words like a heavy foot in his stomach. He bowed his head and struggled to sop up the pain oozing from his middle into his chest. He silently cursed himself for being emotionally sensitive when fatigued and took a deep breath. “As you wish.” It was all he could say without losing control of his emotions. He waited head bowed until she eventually continued up the stairs. Following the naked little feet peeking out from billowing silk he began to wonder if he’d made a terrible mistake gambling his heart. How could he love a woman repulsed by the thought of dancing with him? Were his brothers right? Had he lost his mind? There was still time for an annulment, but if he chose that path he’d lose her future kisses. He blindly followed her into her chamber and ignored her as she shyly locked the door. He took hold of the chair sitting in front of the dressing table and dragged it closer to the bed. He could see her out of the corner of his eyes standing there watching him. He shrugged out his brown coat and draped it over the back of the chair. Sitting down he pulled off his boots and set them neatly to the left side of the chair and then stood up to unbutton his waistcoat.

  “What is the matter Hervey creature?”

  He carefully folded his waistcoat and draped it over his coat. “Why would anything be the matter?”

  “I’ve no idea, that’s why I asked the question.” When he remained silent she started fidgeting with her gown. “Are you angry with me?”

  “Why would I be angry?” He sat back down on the chair and u
ndid the buttons near his knees and untied his garter ribbons before standing and unbuttoning his fall.

  “You look like I’ve killed one of your stupid brothers.” He pulled his breeches down around his ankles and stepped free, his modesty preserved by his thigh length shirt draping his knee length unmentionables. His breeches were shaken and carefully folded over the chair. “Why won’t you look at me?”

  “I’m undressing.”

  She stomped across the room and grabbed the ends of his cravat out of his hands. “What is the matter?” He still couldn’t look at her as she removed the long piece of linen wrapped around his throat. Free of constraint he peeled off his stockings and shoved them in a boot and at last undid the two buttons at his throat. Breathing deeply, he rubbed his neck as she poked him in the chest. “Why won’t you look at me?”

  Hervey sighed in resignation, “You hurt my feelings.”

  “How? I didn’t throw anything at you.”

  “You said you’d never dance with me.”

  “Who cares if I never dance with you?”

  “I care.”

  “Why?”

  “Haven’t you ever been to a ball and seen a handsome man, obviously not me, who made your heart race and made you wish that he’d ask you to dance?”

  “Of course...what of it?”

  “How would you feel if instead of asking you to dance you overheard him say to some sneering companion that he’d rather die than be seen dancing with you?”

  “It hurts my feelings...I hate people like that. Why?”

  “Every time I see you across a crowded ballroom my heart races, my palms sweat and I feel I’ve drunk four bottles of rum. My head says, ‘Hervey you fool, she won’t even look at you let alone dance with you’, but I long to dance with you. Under normal circumstances I can filter out your cutting words, because I know your prickly exterior is a defensive shield. My mind knows this and that knowledge normally protects me from being hurt, but I’m tired and I can’t think clearly enough to strain out the thorns spewing off your tongue.”

  Her lips quivered as her eyes filled with tears, “It isn’t my fault that you’re tired; I didn’t make you stay out all night playing stupid dice. I wanted you to come to bed remember?”