by Cari Hislop
“I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about…”
“My kisses?”
“No…well yes, I mean no; it’s a weighty responsibility…”
“Don’t be daft, how can kissing me be a responsibility?”
“If I don’t fall in love with you, you may die of loneliness or a broken heart. I’d feel awful…”
“Rubbish!” Marshall’s eyebrows nearly met as he scowled at parted lips waiting to be kissed. “If you find me unbearable, then walk away. Stay for food or a roof, but don’t for one second think I want you out of duty. If I wish to demean myself I’ll hire a whore.”
“How can you compare wifely duty to a whore?”
“Do you think I’d be satisfied with an obedient heartless slave?”
“No, but…”
“Well then don’t assume that which you have no right to assume.”
“Shall I apologise for being concerned for your feelings my Lord?”
Marshall’s angry frown slid into a smile as he shook with silent laughter, “You couldn’t stay five minutes out of duty Merry Dunne; you have no notion of obedience.”
“Yes I do! I was a dutiful daughter. I cleaned my father’s house. I washed my father’s clothes. I cooked my father’s food. I visited his sick parishioners. I did a hundred hateful chores a thousand times praying for deliverance, but instead I was orphaned. That’s hardly deliverance is it?”
“Praying for deliverance from a noxious life of duty is hardly dutiful.” She was looking up at him with wide trusting eyes that appeared to be watching his lips as she waited. She wasn’t afraid of him. He could feel his internal organs celebrating as his fingers took hold of her face. “I may be biased in my point of view Lady Raynham, but you’re looking rather fetchingly delivered to me.” He caressed her cheek with his thumb and smiled as she stared into his eyes. “Do you arrange flowers out of duty?”
“No.”
“Do you rise earlier than I ask out of duty?”
“No.”
“Did you kiss me this morning out of duty? Well?”
“No.” The word was so soft he could only see her lips form the word.
“Why do you do these things Merry?”
“I…”
“The truth!”
“I enjoy them.”
Feeling smug he leaned over and put his hear near her lips as if he hadn’t heard her. “What did you say?”
“I enjoy them!” Meeting her eyes, Marshall was deafened by the pounding of his heart as warm lips accepted his hungry kiss until feminine fingers hovered over his chest pulling him into deep water submerging him in a sensual silence.
…
Neither heard the door knocker or the footman rudely shoved aside by two aristocratic visitors. “If you’ll wait here my Lord, my Lady I’ll enquire…”
Lord Morley and his mother entered at will. Lady Catherine Fitzalan poked the footman in the stomach with her cane. “Inform the young ladies we’ve come to collect them. Hurry up man. I won’t have a measly footman ruining my outing. Go!”
“Please allow me to inform his Lordship…ouch!”
Rubbing his head the footman fled upstairs hoping the young ladies would be down in time to avert the master’s displeasure as the old woman lowered her cane and cocked her head. “What is making that disgusting sound? It sounds like people kissing.” The old woman tapped towards the parlour with her son at her heels. “Heaven preserve us!” Lady Catherine peered at the kissing couple through her lorgnette in disgust. “I haven’t seen such a disgusting display since serving Queen Charlotte. The King used to spend hours making love to his wife in front of the court as if they were alone. It was all one could do to keep down one’s dinner. That was before he started barking, swearing and chewing up the carpets. I always knew this foolish love nonsense was linked to madness. I hope you know I never once kissed your father.”
Marshall was rudely severed from a passionate kiss as his wife jerked in horror towards the door before hiding her red face in his shoulder. The two people in the doorway were both ogling Marshal as if he were an exotic animal on display. “What the blazes are you doing in my house? Blast! What did they say Merry?”
“Lady Morley has come for your sisters; she’s organised a picnic at Chelsea.”
“No one mentioned a picnic to me.” Marshall watched his school friend saunter over to him with all the grace of a barn cat on the trail of a mouse.
“Didn’t Aunt Beatrice invite you? I didn’t know of the planned amusement until I was roused from my bed and commanded to dress. The horrors of being a bachelor…I see you’ve discovered one of the delights of husbandry.” Lord Morley caught Mary’s wary glance and smiled as he lowered his voice to a whisper only she would hear, “An enchanting performance my dear. Play it right and Lord Beast will be eating of your bejewelled hand.”
“Stop whispering at my wife!”
“I merely said your kisses have transformed her. She looks almost fetching with her lips rouged from your excessive admiration. I’m almost tempted to see if she tastes as sweet as…”
“Touch my wife and I’ll kill you.”
“Those which are jealous, most part, if they be not otherwise relieved, proceed from suspicion to hatred, from hatred to frenzy, madness, injury, murder, and despair.”
“Don’t start quoting Burton at me or I’ll pummel your sneering lips.”
“She sets you all afire with her voice, her hand, her walk…”
“I didn’t give you permission to enter my house, go away I’m kissing my wife.”
“Mother is unaccustomed to waiting.”
The old woman tapped her cane against the floor, “I can’t abide waiting, where are those two brats? I told them to be ready.”
“Beautiful young ladies will and must take time to reassure themselves they are fit to enslave any casual pedestrian. Are you coming with us Marshall or staying home to waste away the afternoon ‘on’ your wife?”
“It’s none of your business what I do with my afternoon.”
“You needn’t shout Marshall; I’m ten inches away not ten miles.” Marshal was oblivious to the approaching storm as the two sisters raced down the stairs with screams of delight. “I hope we have a peaceful journey this morning. Buckingham is no doubt camped out along Kings Road looking out for my carriage waiting to kidnap your sisters. He begged to be included in the company, but I told him mother was serving rabbit crêpes and that I didn’t think it faire on the other guests. When he asked me how his presence had any relevance to the menu I told him he looked like a skinned rabbit. I swear the man hopped away with tears in his eyes. Oh here they are, the beauteous Godfrey sisters. Come here and let me kiss your cheeks. You should have worn the same dress in case Buckingham shows up. The lunatic probably doesn’t know which one of you he loves.”
“Buckingham’s coming? You should have told us. I’d have worn my blue and white striped dress.”
“I’d have worn it, it doesn’t fit you Emily. You’re getting fat.”
“I am not you horrid cow. At least our brother appears to be happy this morning…”
Mary tried to step out of her husband’s arms, but found herself held even tighter. Morley’s lies were churning her stomach. The man was giving her a knowing smile as if they shared a lurid secret. He finally looked away towards the twins, “Perhaps one of you two lovely ladies can persuade your brother to leave his bed behind and come with us. He won’t listen to me.”
Emily’s eyes lit up. “Do come Marshall; we’re going to play games and eat ourselves sick.”
“I hate games and sharing my food with ants.”
“Oh Marshall, don’t be such a stick in the mud…” Alyce poked him in the ribs. “…if you must kiss Mary all day you can hide behind her parasol.”
“I’m not some green youth desperate to make a public exhibition of myself.”
“It’s useless Henry; Marshall never does anything exciting, he’s boring.” Alyce said the wor
ds in her brother’s face so he would hear. “I don’t know how Mary can stand you. I’d have poisoned myself after twenty-four hours of doing nothing. Henry says you were always old and boring.”
“Count your blessings Alyce; I’m just your brother-guardian who has every hope of throwing you into the arms of some wretch too besotted to realise you’re a hussy.”
Henry pressed a benign expression into Marshall’s face, “You’ve been old since you were born. The most exciting thing you’ve ever done was advertise for a wife in the papers, a move I fear you’ll someday regret.”
“It’s none of your business if I regret hiring my wife and if I’m so boring, why do you spend time in my company? Could it be you’re boring?”
“Everyone has dull moments Marshall, but I’ve never been a bore. I live to taste all the pleasures life has to offer. I’m afraid your tongue is so parched you’d drink anything, even muddy water.” Henry gave a slight glance at Mary’s breasts and waited for the explosion.
Marshall’s eyes narrowed the veiled insult and hissed, “Leave before I pummel you.”
“To fall back on violence when losing a debate is a sure sign of mental impotence. You must be getting old before your time.”
Lady Catherine tapped her cane on the floor to get the room’s attention, “I’m leaving. If you’re coming to my picnic get in my carriage, otherwise stay here and bore yourselves to death. I plan to live before I die.”
“What did she say?”
“If people don’t get in the carriage she’s leaving them behind.”
“Good riddance! When are they coming back?”
“Lord Morley says they’ll be back before dark.”
“That should give me a few hours of peace. Try to act like ladies, keep your hats on and don’t wander off with Henry, he’s a rakehell.”
“Marshall would know.”
“Oh Alyce; you know Marshall isn’t anything like Henry. What’s wrong with you? You’re turning into a shrew.”
“Marshall’s a boring old bag of wind and you know it.”
“I hope Mary doesn’t tell him what you just said, it would hurt his feelings. You know he’s sensitive. Why must you be such a cow?”
“I’m a realist. If you wish to live in a fantasy world that’s your affaire…”
Mary listened to the conversation and wisely chose not to repeat it. She could only hope Lord Buckingham was intelligent enough to choose the kind Emily. As the front door closed on the noise outside Mary glanced up at her husband still holding her in a vice like embrace. “Merry, do you think I’m boring?”
“Ask me in three months.”
“That is an impertinent attempt to skirt the question.”
“It’s a reasonable answer considering the circumstances.”
“Humph…have I bored you at any time over the last few days?”
“No.”
“Hmmm…at least you haven’t poisoned yourself yet. It must be a trial, being the wife of a boring deaf man.”
“My husband isn’t deaf, he’s hard of hearing.” Marshall planted a grateful kiss on her forehead and reluctantly released his captive. Tugging on his waistcoat he failed to banish the sensation of her hands on his chest. “Is there anything you need me to do?”
“No!” The angry lie echoed off the windows as Marshall tried not to think of carrying her up to bed. “Merry…just go back to bed.”
“But I…”
“Allow me a mirage of obedience.”
“I need to finish my flowers.”
“Very well, finish your flowers and then off to bed. And I forbid you to lay awake worrying about my feelings. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Might I have some money; there are a few things I’d like to purchase.”
Marshall’s pleasant smile slid into a scowl as imagined his bride purchasing a ticket and disappearing on the next mail coach. “Absolutely not!”
Mary put her hands on her hips, “You said I’d have a monthly allowance; besides I just want to buy some ceramic candlesticks and a few…”
“What do you want with ceramic candlesticks? I must own fifty silver candlesticks.”
“I know, but this house needs…”
“It doesn’t need any more candlesticks.”
“It needs personal items. A pair of old ceramic candlesticks and a few porcelain figurines would help it look less like rented accommodation.”
“Humph…what colour?”
“Pink.”
“I won’t have my house cluttered with sickly sweet shepherds.”
“It’s what you hired me to do.”
Marshall reached out and caressed her neck. Was she tipping her head back in hope? Did he dare kiss her again? “I don’t remember including a passion for sickly ceramic figurines in my advertisement.”
“Wives are obliged to spend money on pretty clutter.”
“I’ve never heard of that rule.”
“You’ve never had a wife.” Mary held her breath as Marshall’s smile inched closer. Marshall kissed her cheek and then whispered loudly in her ear, “I’d best go find some ceramic clutter ere my wife thinks me parsimonious as well as boring.” Marshall could barely see past the temptation of wide expectant eyes and parted lips. He withdrew his hands and planted them firmly against his sides. “Now finish your flowers and go back to bed Mrs Godfrey. That’s an order.”
Mary bravely curtseyed on trembling legs as burning sapphires singed her heart. It was foolishness. She couldn’t be in love with a man she’d known for less than three days. She’d wait three months and only then would she examine her heart. Mary turned back to her flowers and absently trimmed each stem and shoved them into the vase. Either way she was bound to suffer. If she lost her heart she’d endure unrequited love, but if she kept her heart she was honour bound to abandon kindness and kisses for cold solitude. Her pillow called as her eyes filled with tears. She told herself she was tired as she closed her bedchamber door, but fatigue had never made her cry. She didn’t want to explore the cause of the new feelings. She pushed it away to a safe distance; she’d probably wake up to find her husband’s kisses all been a pleasant dream. Marshall Godfrey, the Viscount Raynham hadn’t looked at her with adoring eyes. He hadn’t kissed her with longing. He wasn’t going fall in love with her.
Chapter 6
Mary was half way through a plate of ham when the front door was opened to the deafening words, “Is Lady Raynham awake? Well where is she? I don’t know where you’re pointing. Speak into my ear man. She’s eating? Good, bring the boxes into the dining room.” Mary licked her lips as her heart beat faster. Her knife and fork slid about in her wet hands as the seconds ticked by in agonising slowness before the heavy foot falls stopped in the doorway and she was located by piercing blue eyes. “Good evening Wife, did you sleep well?” The words rattled the window panes and her resolve to be calm. Nodding her head in affirmation, she blushed at his slow knowing smile. “Put the boxes on the table Man, why would I want them on the floor?”
The footman leaned towards Marshall’s ear, “It takes hours to polish the table…”