On the ground, with his feet firmly planted, he reached up and grabbed Mary by the waist to haul her against him. She slid down his chest, sending sparks of energy flowing though his entire body. Mary was to be his wife. Spinning her, he claimed her lips with a hunger he doubted would ever abate. In return, Gilbert was rewarded with one of Mary’s passionate moans.
She wound her hands about his neck and kissed him soundly before pulling back. “Thomas is approaching.”
“Hopefully, Roxbury brought an extra mount with him.”
“He did.” She looked back at him once more. “You no longer consider me a witch or mad?”
“I will become accustomed to you knowing things before me soon enough. It may well be an extreme advantage while we are on assignment.”
The smile he received for his response had him bursting with pride as if he had given her the sun, moon, and the stars.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Blast Thomas and his timing.
Oh, how she had missed Gilbert’s kisses. Mary reluctantly withdrew from Gilbert’s embrace.
Phillip, years ago, had advised Mary that Gilbert would not object to her wish not to conceive. When she had pressed for an explanation, all Phillip had said was that it was his firm belief that Gilbert held no strong attachment to the idea of having children of his own. Without sound reasoning or logic, she had not believed Phillip.
Gilbert was no liar. Hearing him state that a childless union was of no matter to him shattered all her remaining doubts, and her heart burst with joy over his agreement to allow her to accompany him on missions. A smile remained on her face. His admission that he would find her useful was better than his admission of love. Finally, the feeling of being wanted had her heady and looking forward to the wedding ceremony.
Thomas rarely donned the Seaburn ducal scowl, but it was out in full force today. “Waterford, you’re not married yet. Take your hands off my sister.”
“Not a chance. Now that I have Mary’s consent, I’ll not let her go for anything.” Gilbert laced his fingers through hers, and she followed alongside him as he marched over to the mount Thomas had brought with him.
Gilbert released Mary’s hand momentarily to give her a boost up onto the horse. Once she was seated, he mounted up behind her and pulled her against his chest. Warmth seeped into her bones. She leaned back and gloried in the safety of his care.
Her brother stared at her square in the eye and said, “Mary, don’t get too cozy. As soon as we are within sight of the estate, you’ll ride with me.” Thomas looked at Gilbert. “Not negotiable.”
As they approached the edge of the trees, Gilbert whispered, “We will have to leave early in the morn to ensure Hadfield’s safe return. I would prefer to—”
Thomas stopped a few yards in front of them.
Mary asked, “What is it? I won’t let you change your mind or allow you to renege on your promise.”
“I’ve never broken a promise, and I don’t intend to start now. What I was trying to say is that we can postpone the consummation if— if that is what you would prefer.”
Heat flooded her cheeks. “I honestly hadn’t considered the matter. Can I— decide later?”
Gilbert looked up at the sky. “There is not much more time for you to decide, but we will need to be ready to leave at first light.”
“Does it take all night?”
“Ahh— well.”
Thomas interrupted, “Come along, Mary.”
Gilbert barked, “Just a minute.”
Thomas coughed and mumbled, “That’s about as long as it will take.”
Confused by the conversation, Mary slid to the ground. “I’ll give you my answer when I see you next.”
Gilbert scratched the back of his neck—a telltale sign he was nervous about the outcome. Why was he so nervous? What did she not know?
Gilbert came to help her mount. Seated behind Thomas, she wound her arms about his waist just as she had when she was a little girl. Not that it was necessary, but Thomas was still her eldest brother, and she rarely had opportunities to show him how much she cared for him. It reminded Mary of how much she missed Phillip’s hugs.
She rested her cheek against Thomas’s back and released a contented sigh.
He peered over his shoulder.
Mary leaned back and said, “Your smile has me worried.”
“And you should be. I can’t imagine Mama doing well having a go at explaining the marriage bed. Papa made a total hash of it.”
She wouldn’t seek out their mama for information. Ellen, Thomas’s wife, was kind and intelligent. Yes, she would be able to explain what occurs rationally.
Peering around Thomas, she groaned at the sight of servants rushing about like ants and her family milling nearby ready to pounce as soon as they were within range. The only person who appeared calm was Aunt Agnes, who stood at the foot of the stairs, hands firmly clasped in front.
Thomas chuckled.
Mary asked, “Why are you laughing?”
“Because I finally won a wager against the old woman. When we set sail across the channel, Aunt Agnes was of the opinion that Waterford had made an irreparable mistake and it would be a waste to bring the vicar along. But Papa insisted, and for once, I sided with the old man.”
Was Aunt Agnes losing her ability? Mary recalled the drawings her aunt had passed along to her before her departure. Not one had become a reality. How odd. Her aunt’s predictions had always materialized in the past. Curious, Mary asked, “What was the winner to receive?”
“If she won, I was to repair the crumbling estate she lives in.”
“And if you won?”
“She was to return to London and reside with Ellen and me.”
Mary slapped her brother on the arm. “You can afford to pay for nannies and such to take care of the children. Why would you—”
“Aunt Agnes won’t be with us for much longer, and she should be with family, not alone in some abandoned castle.”
Male logic continued to baffle her. “But Thomas, that is her home. You can’t expect her to want to leave the resting place of her husband.”
“Mary and I will reside with Lady Agnes until the repairs on my estate can be completed.” Gilbert interjected. Her betrothed’s words warmed her heart.
Thomas eyed Gilbert. “Why would you do that?”
“It is close enough for me to oversee the work on my own dilapidated castle, and it will allow Lady Agnes to remain in her home.” Gilbert’s gaze landed on Mary. He was fulfilling his promise to do everything in his power to make her happy.
Coming to a stop before the woman whose face was now streaked with tears, Mary jumped down and embraced Aunt Agnes, who was more mother than an aunt. “Don’t cry, Aunt Agnes. All will be well. Waterford will see to it.”
Her aunt gave her a squeeze and pulled away. Gilbert approached and was wrapped up in a big hug from her aunt, who said, “I’ll forgive you for your tardiness if it means I get to remain in my home.”
Gilbert replied, “I was expecting you to make me beg.”
Nodding in Mary’s direction, Aunt Agnes said, “I’m still unsure how you convinced her to forgive you—”
“I don’t believe I’ve gained her forgiveness, merely her consent to marry. I expect it will take me the rest of my life to make it up to her.”
Her aunt patted Gilbert’s chest. “As it should be then.”
Grinning like the cat who ate a mouse, Aunt Agnes turned and linked arms with Mary, escorting her into the house. “Now—” Her aunt glanced down at her attire. “We need to get you ready quickly. Your papa has lost all patience, and your dear mama won’t be able to delay him much longer.”
Mary said, “I’m ready now.”
“Oh no, my dear, I’ve allowed you much freedom in the past, but you will conform to convention and wear a dress to your wedding.”
Mary jumped as Gilbert began to say, “Lady Agnes, if Mary—”
“Not another word from you, dea
r boy.” Aunt Agnes turned at the waist and ordered, “Roxbury, make sure he is presentable.”
“Yes, Aunt.”
From the corner of her eye, Mary spied Thomas throwing an arm about Gilbert’s shoulders. “It’s been a long time coming, but let’s have a drink, brother.”
Mary stood in the middle of her chamber waiting for Greene to arrive with a gown. She tracked her aunt’s flurried movements. “Do you know where I might find Ellen?”
Aunt Agnes absently waved her hands toward the door. “I sent her to see to the flower arrangements.”
Mary wiped her palms down her skirts. Should she discuss the bedding with her aunt?
Wide-eyed, her aunt stopped and turned to face Mary. “Not another word from you. I shall ask Greene to go and locate Ellen for you.”
“Is it that terrible that no one will be forthcoming?”
Lady Frances’s voice rang clear. Agnes, be done with it. Tell her!
Wringing her hands, her aunt said, “Child, the first time can be rather underwhelming.”
Mary asked, “And after the first time?”
“I’m sure Waterford will do well enough. Now, where is that maid of yours?”
Greene came rushing in with a gown that Mary was sure Madame Auclair had created.
“Aunt Agnes, tell me. Is there anything I can do to make the experience better?”
Greene snorted at Mary’s question. Her aunt frowned and smacked her maid on the arm. “Relax and follow your instincts.”
That didn’t seem difficult. If it was anything like the night she spent with Gilbert, then she had nothing to fear. But now that she reflected upon it, they had spent most of the night awake. It would do them no good to be weary for the journey back to England. They needed clarity of mind. Now that she gave it more thought, Mary better understood Gilbert’s dilemma. However, if they did not consummate the marriage tonight, it could be deemed illegitimate. But if they did engage, they could be placing themselves and the others in danger for the journey.
Greene pulled Mary’s corset strings tight. “Do as your aunt suggested, and all will be well. Do not worry.”
“If I have not a thing to be concerned about, then why is everyone being so obtuse about the subject?
“We don’t have time to discuss.” Greene looked about, then said, “I’ll not be traveling with you on the morrow. Lord Waterford instructed that I pack a valise for you, and that is all you will take. It will be but the four of you. His Lordship wants to keep the traveling party to a minimum, and that places you at risk. Are you certain you want to journey back with them? It would be safer to journey home with your family.”
This time it was Phillip’s voice that rang clear. Mary, you must accompany the men.
“I must accompany Gilbert.”
Greene muttered, “Why you are so devoted to the man I’ll never understand.” Her maid turned her to face the looking glass and smiled. “You look beautiful, my lady.”
Mary took in her image. The woman looking back at her would be the Countess of Waterford. Strangely enough, she was at peace with the idea and wanted the ceremony to be done so she could begin her life as the wife of an agent to the Home Office. A life surely filled with adventure. Ready, she walked with her aunt down to the study, where her family awaited.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
How long was Mary going to make him wait?
The idea that Gilbert might not be consummating the marriage had his skin itching, and he had rubbed the back of his neck raw.
Roxbury nudged him in the ribs. “Good Lord, man, stop fidgeting. I’m sure Ellen allayed any of Mary’s fears.”
“Ellen has been by your side most of the night, and I have no faith that Lady Agnes—” His words caught in his throat as Mary entered the study.
She looked magnificent. Her white gown of semi-transparent mull was adorned with embroidered white satin stitching in the design of what seemed to be a variation of his mama’s family crest. He wasn’t certain as Mary swooshed past with her head held high as she walked directly to her papa, who simply nodded, while her tearstain-faced mama simply embraced her.
His Grace barked, “Let the ceremony begin.”
The vicar, whom Mary’s papa had brought along with him, and Valois’s priest both stepped up to conduct the proceedings.
Gilbert swallowed a groan. This was supposed to be a quick event.
Neither priest nor vicar was willing to relinquish their duties, and so the ceremony was conducted in both French and English.
Rolling his eyes to the ceiling, Gilbert resigned himself to endure the extended service. It would be a test of what little patience he had left.
Standing next to Mary, he glanced down once more at her dress. This time the outline of the rosemary leaves with little flowers embroidered around his clan’s crest of an angel with harped wings was clear. The symbol of those who serve and assist the three families delegated as Protectors of the Royal Family—unflatteringly known as PORFs. Where had Mary obtained the gown from, and was she aware of the significance of the design? He would have to explain to her that from this day forward, she was bound to aid and serve the PORFs—those that held the Burke, Archbroke, and Hadfield titles. Consumed by thoughts of how to explain the complex network Mary was marrying into, Gilbert had missed most of the proceedings.
His focus returned as the vicar asked, “Gilbert Elliot Talbot, Earl of Waterford, wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”
“I will.”
“And do you, Mary Eloise Masterson take Gilbert Elliot Talbot, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”
Would Mary object? He had sworn to love and comfort her, while she was asked to obey and serve him.
Mary’s eyes raked over the length of him and then landed squarely upon his lips. “I will.”
Was she as eager as he was to consummate their union?
A couple more promises, then they were off to sign the registry—two in this case. As Mary bent to scrawl her name, he got a glimpse of her creamy flesh. He was dying to know what she had decided. He would obviously honor her wishes, but the anticipation was gnawing on his nerves.
Straightening, she caught him staring. With both eyebrows raised, Mary whispered, “Husband, will you escort me to your chambers?”
Unable to answer, he simply nodded.
Ignoring Mary’s family and the officiants, he winged his arm and placed a hand over hers to whisk her away. Mary was his now, and he intended for her to remain by his side until he took his last breath.
As they made their way to his bedchambers, he was acutely aware he should say something, but his brain was only focused on one thing—bedding Mary.
He sneaked a sideways glance at his wife. Mary didn’t look to be nervous. In fact, her resilience was one of the things he most admired about her. She was unflappable.
Over the years he’d seen the woman anticipate and preempt disaster after disaster. Did the voices always alert Mary as to what was to occur next? So many questions came to mind. Was she ever surprised by events? Could he surprise her? There was still much to learn about his wife. He felt certain she would never stop intriguing him.
Click. The door latch slid into place. Gilbert shook his head, blinked, and squeezed his clenched hands behind his back.
They were alone in his chambers. This was no dream.
Mary stood before him.
His wife raised a hand to slide a hairpin from her elaborate coiffed hair.
Cheeks red, Mary asked, “Are you going to stand and watch?”
“If you don’t mind.”
Mary shrugged, but he caught an impish twinkle in her eyes. Gilbert rubbed the back of his neck. She removed a
nother pin, brought it to her mouth and popped it between her lips.
The minx was going to kill him before the night was over.
Mary repeated the motion, pin after pin until her glossy mahogany tresses fell about her shoulders. He was about to step forward when she gave her head a little shake. Snaking her hands down to her side, she found the tapes of her skirt and slowly tugged. Her eyes never left him. Gilbert swallowed hard as the material fell to the floor.
Mary presented her back to him and gave him a saucy wink. “I can’t seem to reach the ribbons.”
His hands shook as he reached for her.
“Husband, quit your stalling, we don’t have much time.”
He grabbed her by the waist and carried her over to the bed. Mary let out a loud squeal as Gilbert tossed her onto the soft mattress below.
Tarnation. His fingers fumbled with the buttons on his waistcoat.
Mary giggled. “It is rather entertaining to watch another undress.”
Stripping as fast as he could, Gilbert chuckled as he wrestled with the last button of his falls. He kicked off his breeches and stood naked with his member at full attention. “I agree.”
Mary’s smile lightened his mood as he crawled up onto the bed and slid alongside her. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation. Absolutely no fear, thank goodness.
Gilbert placed a hand over her cheek. “You’re amazing.” He ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “Thank you for waiting for me.”
Mary’s tongue peeked out. Every fiber of his being screamed to take and plunder the gorgeous woman who was now wrapping her arms about his neck and pulling his head down for a kiss. For years he had envisioned this moment in his dreams. He wanted to savor every real moment. She deserved to be cherished.
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