An Unsuitable Match

by Glint, Chloe

  She stiffened and suddenly looked his way, the blush disappearing from her cheeks as fast as it had come. "Are you certain you're prepared to hear about my family so soon? About Gabrielle?"

  She said her sister's name as if frightened it had the potential to kill.

  "I'll be fine." Despite his words, he knew that hearing about Gabrielle would still sting a little. But that girl was not his wife. Camille was.

  After Camille gave an uncertain sigh, she returned to looking out the window again. For a moment he wondered whether she wouldn't respond to his question, but then she swallowed and looked his way again.

  "How should I begin to tell you about them? It's hard." She sighed. "I think the only way I could describe them is perfect. My father is dark and handsome. My mother is an example of femininity. I do not need to explain about my sister."

  The fact she still spoke of her parents in a fond light after his bitter speech surprised him. "I do not think that anyone who misleads their child is perfect."

  "I think that's why they did it, though." Camille wrinkled her nose as if she smelled something foul. "I am not foolish. If I were born into a normal family, I think I would have been fine. My family consists of swans and I'm a sparrow. They married me to you, another swan, in hopes that I'll give birth to children who are like them. Perfect."

  Though Kale could sense the sadness in her words, he chuckled and shook his head. "Your parents are much mistaken, I'm afraid."

  "Pardon?" She blinked at him owlishly.

  "I'm not perfect. I'm a sparrow if there ever was one." The grin slid from his face. "You'll come to find that I'm clumsy and not nearly as intelligent as I should be. I suppose it's just as well, though."

  "How so?" She bit her bottom lip.

  "Two sparrows may make a better match."

  As Camille's eyes widened further in shock, he thought, Did I really just say that? After a moment, he realized that he had.

  And he had meant the words.

  ****

  Camille could not get Kale's last words out of her head. "Two sparrows may make a better match." He had insinuated that the two of them may do better together than he and Gabrielle, but perhaps she had been wrong. And if she wasn't wrong, she had little doubt that he had said such a thing purely out of kindness for her feelings. With her brows furrowed, she stared at the long fields of endless green grass. At least she'd have plenty of space to walk and gain control over her emotions.

  As Camille argued with herself, Kale squeezed her hand to get her attention.

  "You can see our new home!" Kale cried, his voice dripping with excitement.

  All thoughts of sparrows and swans leapt from her mind as she craned her neck to see beyond the two bay horses that pulled the carriage. There, nestled between two great hills like a child protected by two looming parents, stood a massive stone building. The estate had many bay windows and a rust colored roof. On the left-hand side was a large mahogany stable surrounded by a fence. Fine horses of all types and colors grazed upon lush grass. The finest of the horses, a massive cobalt stallion, stood staring at them from beyond the fence. It was impressive. She had never been poor, but her family only owned one estate and it was not nearly as fine as this. She couldn't believe she and her new husband would be living in such a place alone.

  "Do you find it suitable?" Kale asked, staring out the window.

  "Of course." Camille grinned. "How could I not? I have never laid eyes on a house so grand."

  "Is that so?" Amusement laced Kale's words. "Then you will faint upon sight when you see my father's home. I swear his mansion alone stretches for all eternity. But I suppose he needs all that room."

  The bitterness in Kale's words caused her to shift her attentions toward her husband. She could not imagine what could cause such acidity.

  "Is something the matter?" she asked.

  "No." Kale's jaw tightened. "It's nothing. You go on and enjoy looking at the house."

  Though she did as she was told, the magic of her new home had less of an effect on her now. When the carriage finally drew to a stop, though, her heart leapt with excitement despite her husband's sudden mood change. She could not help but grin and almost jumped out of the carriage before it stopped.

  After Kale had helped her down from the carriage with a gentle hand and the driver unloaded their trunks, her husband surprised her yet again by taking her arm in his. For a man who had married the wrong person, she was stunned by how easily he fit into the role of being her husband. She hoped all his efforts would not cause him to grow as sour with her as he was with his father. While her thoughts once again commenced arguing about whether she should bring this fact up with her new husband, she was distracted when the doors to the home were opened by a tall man with hair the color of cinnamon.

  The tall man stepped out into the sunlight for the first time. The sunlight caught the flecks of red in his hair. His eyes were the finest of greens, like the grass the horses fed from. He had the muscular figure of a man who spent his days working hard and dwarfed Kale in both height and width. He was the type of man her sister would have fluttered her eyelashes at.

  "I pray your journey went well," said the tall man.

  "Mr. Kent." Kale smiled and nodded. "So you will be my butler yet again?"

  "Your father found it wise that I should continue my service to you," Mr. Kent said, his voice low and husky. He gazed at Camille and a grin crossed his attractive face. "This is your new bride? She is different than I imagined. More lovely, in fact."

  The words had heat rising in her cheeks before she could stop it. It was obvious the man was trying to please her because she was new to his service, but she appreciated his comment all the same.

  "Thank you, Mr. Kent." She smiled. "I look forward to being under your care."

  With his lip quirked in the corner, Mr. Kent bowed at the hip and then stepped to the side. Kale tightened his grip on her arm.

  ****

  When Kale led Camille up the steps, a strange, angry roaring filled his heart. He wasn't sure why he was so enraged. Mr. Kent had pleased his wife. The fact she had blushed the way she had meant that she had been happy by the butler's comments about her beauty. Yet he still wanted to grab the servant and cast him from the house. As a man who had never abused his help, he didn't like this new feeling. It made him uneasy. He squeezed Camille's arm and swallowed hard.

  Even as he walked through the foyer, he was still so annoyed he hardly noticed that improvements had been made. New cherry wood bookshelves had been placed along the ivy green walls. A full-length, antique mirror hung to his right. The old staircase that had been missing a plank on the third stair had been repaired and freshly painted. The only thing that finally managed to shake him from his own head was Camille gasping, a broad grin upon her face. He took to staring at her and found his anger subsiding, if only for a moment.

  He was surprised how overjoyed his new wife was by the surroundings. The woman was not poverty stricken. His father never would have allowed him to marry a woman without good standing. Perhaps he had taken all of the riches his family had given him for granted. He had always considered this house to be a hovel. Before the renovations, half the estate had been in disrepair. He had actually griped about the place that brought his bride such joy. I wonder what Gabrielle would have thought about it, Kale thought, then shook his head to clear it. No, he vowed he would think not of Gabrielle anymore. It would make the transition easier. He had to focus on Camille. Only Camille.

  "Let's go upstairs to our bedroom, shall we?" Kale squeezed her hand. "It's far grander than the rest of the house."

  "Grander?" His bride fanned herself as if she was growing overheated. "I might just faint from the elegance of it all."

  Kale couldn't help but chuckle. "Were you really wealthy?"

  Her cheeks flushed and she averted her eyes. "Wealthy enough, though apparently not nearly as wealthy as you. How many homes does your family own?"

  "Mmm." Kale led Camille
over to the staircase and up the steps. "Four, I believe. There's this house and an old mansion to the east of London. My father owns an estate to the south of here. My mother lives a day's ride from him."

  "They do not live together?" Camille's voice heightened a pitch in shock. "I could not imagine such a thing. My parents can't even live a night apart."

  "Then they must love each other very much." His heart ached at the thought of his parents and how they loathed each other. "My father has many mistresses, a practice I condone. My mother is a religious woman and loathes it as well. My father doesn't want anything to do with my mother anymore. He says she repulses him. The two of them live apart but attend public events together for the sake of their social standing."

  "Oh." Camille nodded as she made it to the upstairs hallway. "I see…"

  "Don't look so sad." He nudged her with his elbow. "I spent the duration of my life with my mother. It wasn't so bad. I suppose that's why my father and I are nothing alike. I was kept away from the man when I was young so when I was older I could understand what was right."

  Camille came to a stop in the middle of the hallway. For a minute he wondered whether the woman had forgotten how to breathe because her chest stopped rising. She then appeared to regain her sense of thought, though, and fell in stride beside him again. Neither of them spoke until he stopped their progress in front of a pair of white double-doors. She glanced at him curiously.

  "Let's have a change of topic." He placed his hand on the door handle. "I imagine that you'll adore our quarters, and I would rather have you smile than frown."

  "You truly are a kind person." As if she wanted to comfort him, she leaned her head against his shoulder for a moment.

  Their eyes met and heat started in his heart and traveled throughout his whole body. It wasn't sexual. He wasn't even sure it was physical. All he knew was that when he gazed into his wife's face during that moment, he felt closer to her than he had before. Perhaps it was because, even though he had changed the topic, she had so easily sensed the suffering within his heart. Very few had been able to do that. In her understand, she'd created an intimate world between them. A world just for them two.

  A few seconds past and she was the first to look away. He had a great deal of trouble breathing when he pressed his hand against the door handle again. His thoughts still on the moment that had just occurred between them, he pushed open the door and heard his wife gasp. She stepped inside, half dragging him with her, so he released her arm and followed her inside.

  Like the rest of the house, their quarters were different than he remembered it. A new bed had replaced the old one. It had a grand canopy draped with silk curtains the color of ripened plums. Fat, silk pillows matched a comforter of the lightest lavender. Light streamed in through the windows, drenching the entire room in sunlight. A balcony Kale had spent many an afternoon on overlooked the stable.

  "What do you think of it?" Kale asked.

  "I can't even express how wondrous it is," she whispered.

  Yet he could see on his wife's face that she could express it, just not with words. Her eyes were huge and her mouth was half open. She pressed her hand to her lips, as if she was trying to push a gasp down her throat. She twirled around, her arms wide as if waiting for somebody to embrace, and beamed. When she came to a pause in front of him, he stepped toward her and could not deny himself a grin.

  "It's so beautiful," she said, arms still wide-spread.

  Before he could even think of a response, she threw herself at him and hugged him tight. She buried her face in his neck. The sudden closeness shocked him. He had yet to become accustomed to the fact that he could touch this woman, but when he wrapped his arms around her waist, he found that he enjoyed it. She was warm and soft. She may not have had hair of gold, but she had a luminous soul. Some of the bitterness he felt at his father was swept aside. Perhaps things truly would be alright. Perhaps he didn't have to worry about him and Camille after all.

  As he thought this, his wife released him and pulled away. He was shocked that he was sorry she had left his arms. She smiled at him shyly and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

  "My apologies," she said. "I was overcome with emotion."

  "It's alright." He swallowed. "I was overcome by great emotions myself."

  Instead of responding, his wife just smiled and extended her hand to him. He took it and held it, linking the two of them together.

  Chapter Eleven

  That night, Camille sat on the bed and sighed. She could scarcely believe that she lived in such a fine estate. With a grin, she lay back on the bed and stared at the canopy. She imagined that her parents and Gabrielle were traveling home, back to their much smaller place. She wondered whether her parents had any idea of how much wealthier her new husband was. The thought caused a chill to dance up her spine. Perhaps her parents knew just how much richer Kale was. She flipped over onto her stomach and pelted her pillows with her fists. After her breathing became ragged and forced, she felt much better and far less prone to rage. She stood up, whisking away invisible dust. Just as she headed toward the door, contemplating the merits of a hot cup of tea, Kale burst into the room with a serious frown upon his face. When he met her eyes, she could tell that he was deep in thought about something. She wondered whether his thoughts were also on his parents. She wished she could have reached out to help him if that was the case, but she could hardly help herself. How could she hope to soothe the aching heart of another person?

  As she contemplated this, Kale must have noticed her staring. He looked up and met her eyes. He looked at her trembling bosom for a moment. For whatever reason, his expression drove heat to her cheeks. If she didn't know better, she could swear that he had just gazed at her in a lustful way. But she didn't believe that was true. Or if it was, she wasn't sure how she should handle it. It isn't true. Do not think so hopefully. Kale's mind would not be on such things. Yet her heart sped up and her corset suddenly became uncomfortably tight. She squirmed.

  "Is everything alright?" Kale asked.

  "I was going to ask you the same question," she said. "You do not appear at ease."

  "Nor do you."

  Once again, the same awful silence fell between them. She scrutinized her husband, longing to know what his thoughts were. Unfortunately, she could not see into his heart.

  "You appeared like you were on your way to somewhere," Kale said.

  "I was on my way downstairs to get tea." She hesitated and swallowed. "Did you wish to accompany me?"

  "For me, it's a little late for tea." Kale tugged at his jacket and dusted away nonexistent wrinkles. "I was hoping for your company tonight up here, if that's alright."

  At first Camille didn't even know what he meant. She froze, then pressed her fingers to her lips. Does he mean he wants me to…he wants me to…The thoughts were so embarrassing she couldn't even bring herself to finish them. She had not been wrong about his gaze after all. It had been on her bosom. She realized then that she should not have been shocked by her husband's interest. Though she was not the bride Kale had wanted, he was still a man and still longed to fulfill his urges. She was his bride. It was her duty as his wife to satisfy all of his wishes.

  No matter how much the idea of it terrified her.

  She now knew that as much as she had loved the idea of marriage—the kissing, the children, the shared memories—she had not prepared herself for matters of sensuality. The most she knew about what happened between husband and wife was that a great deal of grunting was involved. That along with the fact it was painful.

  "Are you alright?" Kale asked. "Your color is not good. I will accompany you downstairs for tea after—"

  "No!" Her voice was louder than she intended it. She worked to quiet herself. "I mean, no. Everything is alright. I just got a little lightheaded all of the sudden. I will stay upstairs with you. It is my rightful place."

  With eyes wide with uncertainty, Kale frowned. "Are you sure you're alright?"

&
nbsp; "I'm fine." She nodded. "Healthy."

  Though Kale didn't look like he believed her, he dropped the subject and turned away. He walked over to the window and peered outside. She gazed at his back, wringing her hands. Once again, her husband nervously smoothed his palms over his jacket as if unsure whether he was still dressed.

  He finally spoke again. "I was thinking…"

  She took a quivering step toward him. "Yes?"

  "We are husband and wife, after all." Kale blew out a sigh. "There are things that spouses are supposed to do, things that we have not done yet."

  Though she had the sudden urge to run in the opposite direction, she continued her path to her husband and stood behind him. She grabbed a fistful of dress and clutched it within her fingers.

  "Yes?" she asked. "I am aware of that, and…"

  Kale turned around. The candlelight reflected in his eyes, revealing once again how beautifully they were. "And?"

  "And I am more than willing to do what a wife is supposed to do." She pressed her fist against her trembling bosom.

  "Good." As if he had expected her to deny him of what was rightfully his to take, Kale's shoulders slumped in defeat. "May I be honest with you?"

  "Of course." She was his wife now. If he could not be honest with her, then all would be lost between them.

  "I am nervous." Kale ran a hand through his hair. "I know that makes me a coward. My father would not be nervous. He would have had his way with you already. Maybe I am not a proper man, unable to take what is mine."

  It shocked her that such thoughts ailed him. She could not stop herself from reaching out and grabbing his hand. It surprised her that it trembled as much as hers did.

  "Your father may be a proper man, but I would much rather have you." She paused. "I cannot imagine how it would feel, having a stranger I barely know with me in such a way. I find it hard to imagine your father being slow and kind. Perhaps he knows his way around a woman's body, but it is much better to have a man who will take the time to learn what's inside of a woman's heart."