Wicked Delights Of A Bridal Bed

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Wicked Delights Of A Bridal Bed Page 22

by Tracy Anne Warren


  “Ah, well,” she said, sending him a smile. “We shall have to rectify that shortly, do you not agree?”

  He smiled back. “Most definitely. Now, why don’t I show you upstairs to your room.” Stretching an arm out behind her, he indicated the staircase made of more dark oak, the heavy square banisters beautifully carved with the shapes of apples, figs, birds and stags.

  “I would enjoy freshening up,” she admitted, “but first, I’d like to see a bit more of the house.”

  He frowned, then smiled again. “We’ve had a long trip. Let’s get you settled and in Penny’s capable hands. Plenty of time to tour the house once you’re rested.”

  Had she not known Adam since she was a child, she might well have fallen in with his suggestion. But she knew his voice, knew his tones, and could tell there was something he didn’t want her to know.

  Turning, she met his gaze. “I would rather see the house now, at least a small section of it. Your housekeeper can give me a complete tour tomorrow, I expect.”

  Thrusting his hands into his pockets, he glanced away for a brief moment. “I’m afraid there’s no housekeeper either. You’ll need to hire one with the butler.”

  Scowling, she crossed her arms. “Exactly what staff are in your employ? Just so I’ll know who to put on my list.”

  His jaw firmed. “Sufficient to keep the house maintained. In addition to the coachman and footman, we have a cook, a pair of housemaids, and a gardener. And of course, there are Finley and Penny now that you are in residence.”

  Mallory paused to consider the small number of servants. Then again, she supposed Adam had been away a great deal of the time and had no need of a large staff. Shrugging, she smiled. “Actually, I expect it will work out brilliantly. This way I can start fresh and hire whomever I like.” She paused again. “Assuming you are giving me authority to hire new staff?”

  His lips curved upward, his features relaxing. “Of course you have authority. You are mistress of the house, and the household is yours to manage however you see fit.”

  “Good. Then let’s see a bit more of my domain.”

  His smile faded again. “Mallory, I really think you ought to freshen up first. Let me show you to your bedchamber, and I’ll take you on a tour later.”

  “Why?” she asked in a lowering tone. “What is there that you don’t want me to see?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Obviously there is something, so out with it, Adam Gresham.”

  He gave her a mutinous look, then relented. “Fine. Go on then, if you insist. I believe seeing will be explanation enough.”

  Suddenly anxious about what she might discover, she went to a nearby set of double doors, then paused. Maybe she ought to do as Adam suggested, she mused, and go upstairs to find Penny. But no, she told herself, she wanted to know what he was trying to delay her seeing.

  After all, how dreadful could it be?

  Laying a hand on the knob, she pushed open one of the doors.

  The room was large and broad, illuminated by a bounty of natural light pouring in through windows that ranged the length of the outside wall. Fashioned from the same dark, elaborately carved wood used in the entry hall, the space spoke powerfully of a bygone century. Possessed of a bold, almost masculine quality, the main features of the room were composed of high ceilings, built-in cupboards and shelves, and a huge marble fireplace. At the far end of the room stood an open second-story gallery where people could observe the goings-on from above. Given the age of the house, she suspected the ladies of the family used to sit there, framed as if in a tableau by delicate carvings and ornate wooden arches.

  Ordinarily, she would have found it a most pleasant room were it not for one thing.

  It was empty.

  And by that, she meant bare, pared down to the wood with only the architecture remaining. There wasn’t so much as a stick of furniture, not a rug or a book. The fireplace grate lay bare as well, without a bit of kindling for a fire. No curtains hung over the windows, the embrasures appearing stark and lonely.

  Empty.

  Whirling around, she turned to find Adam leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “But where is everything?” she asked. “Why are there no furnishings?”

  “Because there aren’t any,” he said, a sardonic expression on his face. “My father sold them off years ago.”

  She’d heard rumours of the late earl’s profligate nature—gambling, drinking, loose women and all manner of other unsavoury activities—but she’d never imagined something like this. With Adam’s reluctance to show her the house still fresh in her mind, a new thought occurred. “But surely you don’t mean that all the rooms are like this?”

  “That’s exactly what I mean.” Adam peeled himself away from the wall and strolled forward. “If it wasn’t nailed down or glued in place, my dear old papa made sure it was converted into coin. Sometimes he didn’t even bother with that, bartering items instead for whatever it was he wanted at the time. Years ago, one of the servants told me he got drunk and traded all of the bed linens for a dozen eggs. Apparently, he’d already sold off the chickens, and he was hungry. You’d have thought he could at least have held out for more. Two dozen eggs perhaps and a slab of bacon.”

  Crossing to a window, he gazed out. “Then, too, he gambled away a significant portion of the family heir-looms. I believe the silver service that had been a gift from Queen Elizabeth herself was lost in a game of lanterloo to a merchant, who melted it down for specie. All the family portraits went as well, including the one of my mother painted just after her marriage. But she was dead by that time, so I suppose he saw no harm.”

  “No harm! But that’s monstrous.”

  “Yes,” Adam said in a flat, cold voice. “That’s exactly what he was.” Suddenly he sighed and turned to face her. “I should never have brought you here. I ought to have taken you straight back to Braebourne and left you in your brother’s care until I had an opportunity to set the house to rights. But I suppose I was too selfish to be without you even that long.”

  Her heart beat at a faster pace, a hand she hadn’t even realized she lifted, pressed against her chest.

  “If you want to go now, I’ll understand,” he continued, not quite meeting her gaze. “But lest you imagine you’ll be sleeping on the floor, you won’t. As soon as I knew we were to be wed, I had the countess’s chambers completely refurbished. There’s everything you could possibly need, but if there’s anything you don’t like, you have only to toss it out and start over.”

  “Adam—”

  “There’s enough new furniture in the dining room and in one of the small salons that I believe you won’t be wholly uncomfortable,” he went on. “I even had a writing desk installed so you could keep up your correspondence with your family.”

  Pausing, he raked his fingers through his hair. “It’s nothing to what you’re used to, I know, and admittedly a frightful mess, but I’ve been putting all my energy into seeing to the estate. Rebuilding the tenant cottages, unblocking neglected streams, dredging ditches, repairing roads and making sure we’ll be able to plant a crop in the fields come this spring.

  “As for the house, the outside was nearly as derelict as this room, but I’ve about brought it back to life. I thought I’d tackle the outside first, then concentrate on the interior. I was a bachelor, so what did I care so long as I had a bed and a place to eat a meal? Then we married, and there wasn’t time to do it all.”

  Pausing again, he stared at the floor. “I thought if you saw your bedchamber first, the rest might not come as such a dreadful shock. But I won’t blame you in the least if you want to go. Shall I send for the coach again? Have Penny repack your belongings? Or will you stay the night? You can set off at first light, and I can—”

  “What you can do is stop talking nonsense,” she interrupted, crossing the distance between them. “I’m not going anywhere. This is my home now, regardless of its condition at present.”


  His gaze flew up to meet hers.

  “From what you’ve told me, we shall be perfectly comfortable,” she said, reaching out to slip her arms around his waist. “I assume the bed is more than a straw pallet tossed on the floor?”

  His eyebrows drew together. “The bedstead is made of cherrywood and has a big mattress stuffed with goose feathers.”

  “And the dining room has a table and chairs rather than a few shipping crates on which we would need to perch?”

  His mouth drew up in a slant. “Indeed, I believe a full complement of chairs was brought inside with the table.”

  “You’ve bought china and silverware and linens?”

  He slipped his arms around her and tugged her closer. “We could eat with our fingers, but only if you wish. Otherwise, we’ll have to do with the cutlery at hand.”

  “And the salon has a couch, perhaps a tea table so we can enjoy a cup before bedtime? Or perhaps something stronger in your case?”

  “I don’t need anything stronger, not if I have you. I’ve discovered that you are my very favourite nightcap.”

  She laughed and snuggled against him. “Then it sounds as if we have only to settle in. As for the rest of the house, it shall be like a blank canvas to a painter. You did say I would have a free hand?”

  “As free as you like. You have my leave to buy anything and everything you want.”

  “I’d be careful if I were you, or I just might take you up on that offer.”

  Grinning, he dropped a kiss on her mouth. “I shall count upon it. In fact, I’ve already asked for some sample books to be sent from London. A few ideas to get you started.”

  She beamed back at him. “I cannot wait. I knew marrying you would be an adventure.”

  “An adventure, hmm? I’m not sure how I should take that.”

  “As a compliment, that’s how. Now, why do we not go see the bedroom you’ve furnished for me? I’m dying to get a glimpse at the decoration.”

  “I hope you like it. I did my best with the colours and such.”

  She tightened her hold. “I’ll love it. I already know that I shall.”

  Smiling, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, claiming a slow, sweet kiss that made her toes arch against the insides of her half boots.

  “I’m going to love trying out the bed tonight,” he said. “We’ll see just how soft the goose feathers are.”

  “And how tightly the ropes have been strung.”

  He tossed back his head on a laugh. “We’ll make them sing, just wait and see.”

  CHAPTER 20

  To Adam’s express pleasure and relief, Mallory adored her new rooms, exclaiming over the elegant Chippendale furnishings made of satinwood and maple, the pale cream walls and apricot draperies. She loved the plush divan and chairs in her sitting room, the pieces upholstered in muted gold damask that gave the room an extra richness—or so she informed him.

  With his hands thrust inside his pockets, he’d watched as she flitted around the rooms, pausing to admire various pieces here and there, including the rosewood writing desk he’d selected for her. Smiling, he enjoyed the expression of delight on her face as she pulled open the drawers to discover supplies of ink, pens and sheets of crisp stationery that bore the crest of her new title as his countess.

  After suggesting that Penny retire to her room to unpack her own belongings, Mallory surprised him by locking the door. Going to the bed, she’d lain back against the vanilla satin coverlet and stretched out a hand toward him. Seeing no reason to resist her invitation, he let her pull him into her embrace, losing no time as they proceeded to christen the bed in the most glorious of fashions.

  And so began their residence at Gresham Park, the days rolling easily from one to the other over the next three weeks.

  In the mornings, Adam rose early to ride his stallion, Eric, around the estate, the horse having been brought from Braebourne after the wedding together with Mallory’s mare, Pansy. On his outings, he visited various tenants to discuss their concerns as well as to oversee the improvements he was making to the land.

  Sometimes Mallory joined him on his rides, both of them getting to know their neighbours and the local tenantry, so that soon they were being greeted with friendly hellos and waves as they passed. Having been raised to believe in the virtues of ministering to the sick and the poor, Mallory carried on the tradition at Gresham Park.

  With Cook’s smiling participation, Mallory saw to it that baskets of food were delivered to those in need. She also secured the assistance of the village doctor, making certain the ill and elderly were receiving the care they required. One old woman, who’d lived on Gresham land her whole life, told Adam that his new lady was nothing less than an angel sent among them. With complete seriousness, Adam agreed.

  After sharing nuncheon together, he and Mallory usually parted again for much of the afternoon. During those hours he would retreat to his office to review the estate accounts, answer correspondence and take care of other sundry business. Often, he was joined by his new steward, who’d come highly recommended by Edward. Already, the man was proving his worth in terms of enthusiasm, honesty and a progressive turn of mind. Despite some initial reluctance to hire a steward at all, Adam found himself glad of the extra assistance.

  As for Mallory, he was vastly pleased to see how effortlessly she’d taken over running the household. If he hadn’t known better, he might have imagined she’d been doing it for years, stepping into the role of mistress of the house with nary a problem or complaint.

  In fact, based on the cheerful smiles and happy comments from the servants, he knew they all but worshipped her. Particularly after she hired a butler, Brooke, and a housekeeper, Mrs Daylily, both of whom immediately set just the right tone in the servants’ hall.

  Mallory had told Adam over dinner one evening that she planned to take on even more staff—housemaids, footmen, a cook’s assistant, and an extra scullery maid or two since there would be additional mouths to feed once all the new staff were in place. Having lived frugally these past several years, he hadn’t considered the necessity of hiring additional staff. But he trusted Mallory, and if she thought there was a need for servants, then he decided to leave it all in her clearly capable hands.

  There was one other new occupant as well, Charlemagne, the cat, who arrived about a week after Adam and Mallory. He’d looked none too pleased at having been shut inside a wicker hamper for the long coach ride from Braebourne. Emerging with a mutinous gleam in his eyes, he’d thumped his tail warningly. But he calmed the instant Mallory lifted him into her arms, starting to purr when he realized who he was with.

  Adam supposed he purred too in his own way when Mallory held him. He certainly couldn’t resist her touch, longing for her when they were apart, wanting everything from her when they were together.

  And therein lay the only bleak spot in their otherwise excellent marriage. She still didn’t love him, at least not the way he wished.

  Even so, he couldn’t help the way his heart brightened with hope whenever she interrupted his work to share some news that simply couldn’t wait. Or when she laughed and teased him as she indulged in a bit of flirtatious conversation. And, of course, there were the nights.

  Long, dark hours spent in her sweet arms, sheathed in her soft warmth, knowing that no matter how many times he took her, how many times he slept by her side, it would never be enough.

  Only in those quiet moments of intimacy did he feel fully himself. Only then did he give himself permission to show her his love, letting passion express what he knew he dare not say aloud.

  Of course he thought of telling her at least a dozen times a day. “Mallory, I love you,” he would say, as he took her in his arms. “I’ve always loved you.”

  In his fantasies, her face came alive, happiness bursting from her as she kissed him until neither of them could think.

  But then he would imagine a different outcome, her expression animated not by pleasure, but by dismay, surprise t
hat turned to pity and guilty regret over the fact that she didn’t return his affection.

  And so, he said nothing.

  He supposed he was being a coward, but everything was so good between them, he didn’t want to risk ruining it. They were happy together; it was selfish of him to want more.

  Or was it?

  Glancing up now from his work, Adam reached out to scratch the cat’s velvety black head. Charlemagne blinked his green eyes from where he lay on one side of Adam’s desk before glancing longingly toward the doorway. Mallory was inspecting the attics today and had banished the feline from the top floor, much to the animal’s displeasure.

  “She’ll be finished soon, my fine sir,” Adam told the cat. “Then you can snuggle with her to your heart’s content.”

  If only he could be as certain as Charlemagne that he was loved, he would be content. Yet content or not, he would never stop saying the words—at least to himself.

  Mallory, I love you.

  Drawing a deep breath, Adam reapplied himself to the investment statements he’d received from Pendragon, going over the activity and recommendations for future acquisitions.

  Ten minutes later, he’d finally managed to focus his thoughts on his work when a light tap came at the door.

  “Am I interrupting?” Mallory asked in a quiet tone. “I can come back later if you wish.”

  Glancing up, he smiled and laid down his pen. “No, not at all. Come in. Charlemagne and I have been wondering how you were faring in your search of the attics. Was it as dismal as I assume?”

  How could it not be? He mused, considering the fact that his father must surely have looted the place of anything valuable years ago. The one time Adam had ventured up to the top story after coming into his title, he’d found nothing but an assortment of broken furniture and worthless odds and ends. Sour memories had crowded in upon him at the sight, and he’d left without doing much more than glance around. He hadn’t been up there since. But Mallory had wanted to see what might remain before having the servants clear out the lot as trash.

 

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