“Am I supposed to believe that kind of devotion could happen between Adriana and me?”
Samantha was frustrated by his obvious scorn. “You must know by now that Adriana and I are as close as sisters.”
“I’m aware of that, Samantha, but as much as you may cherish her, I tell you now that that fact will in no wise influence my decision. By the terms Father laid out for me, I find myself committed to three months of courtship with Adriana. I will honor that agreement, but as far as the rest, I shall offer no empty platitudes or promises.” He shrugged his shoulders with a casual air of indifference. “Simply put, Samantha, what will be will be.”
Clasping a fist to her breast, she looked at him beseechingly. “Colton, I beg you . . . please, please don’t hurt Adriana. As much as you may resent the arrangements Papa made for you, none of it has ever been her fault.”
A pensive sigh escaped his lips. “I know that, Samantha, and I will make every effort to consider the merits of our future together. I shall also try to conduct myself in a manner Father would’ve deemed appropriate, but until I’m completely convinced that Adriana and I can come to love each other, I won’t make any promises that I may later come to regret. Neither will I exchange nuptials with her to please family members. You must accept the fact that though I’ve agreed to court her, there still remains a very strong possibility that nothing will come of it. In view of the fact that the contract was drawn up without my knowledge by our parents, warning Adriana to be on her guard seems the only way to forestall the likelihood of her being seriously wounded by my rejection.”
Samantha realized her pleas had profited nothing. Having gained no commitments from her brother, she and her friend were no better off now than they had been earlier. The arduous task of waiting would now begin, and only time would reveal whether Sedgwick Wyndham had been right all along when he had offered the comment that Adriana and his son were so well matched they could’ve been joined at the hip.
Thoughtfully, Samantha tilted her head aslant as she considered her handsome kin. “There is one thing I would have you explain, Colton, if you’d care to enlighten me. My question has nothing to do with Adriana, so you needn’t be on your guard. I’ve just been curious about something, that’s all.”
His lips traced upward. “I’ll try my best.”
“Earlier this year, Mama and I were told by several acquaintances that they had met you in London. We were certain after being away for so many years you’d come home during that brief span of peace since we were there in London ourselves, but, of course, you never did. It has been our deepest regret that you didn’t get to see Papa while he was still alive and in good health. Couldn’t you have seen fit to visit us while we were all there?”
Colton was reluctant to upset his sister any more than she had been. Had it not been for the fact that on the day of his departure, his sire had forbidden him to darken the door of the family homes until he could yield himself to the idea of discussing plans for his betrothal to Adriana or, as it had come to be, the elder had been laid to rest in a grave, he would have visited much sooner. “I’m sorry, Samantha, I went to London on official business for Lord Wellington and, while there, I had to stay within an area wherein I could be located easily by couriers. I wasn’t there long before other commanders and I were sent to join Wellington in Vienna to discuss Napoleon’s return to France. I had my orders; I had to obey them.”
“Papa kept asking for you on his deathbed,” she said in a small voice, futilely struggling to suppress the tears that still seemed inclined to come whenever she remembered their father’s muted pleas to see his only son.
The unrelenting remorse Colton had suffered over his father’s death had lain like an arduous weight upon his chest since news of that event had reached him. As much as he wished he had the ability to reverse time and events and substitute those sorrowful moments with happier, affectionate moments, he could not. He was merely a man, after all.
Noticing the wetness glistening in the eyes that were so very much like his own and their father’s before them, he limped toward his sister and, slipping his arms about her, breathed a humble supplication against her hair. “Dearest Samantha, please forgive me. We were confronting the enemy when your first missive of Father’s illness came, and I was bound by duty to remain with my regiment. Then, later, after his death, I was prevented by my wound from making a departure. It was some time before I could even leave my cot.”
Realizing her own dialogue had turned morbid, Samantha became immediately repentant. “I must ask your forgiveness in return, Colton. You can’t imagine how truly relieved and grateful we all are to have you finally home and to know for a certainty that you’re alive and well.” Amid a profusion of tears, she slipped her arms about him. “Mama and I have been so dreadfully worried about you. Though Papa dared not speak of his fears while the fighting was so intense, he, too, was deeply concerned for your welfare.” Striving diligently to pull herself together, she took a deep breath, seeking to subdue the emotions that even now threatened to undermine her efforts to speak. Forcing a smile, she stood back with eyes still brimming with moisture. “In spite of your differences, he loved you very, very much.”
His sister’s words wrung Colton’s heart, and it took a concerted effort for him to move beyond his regret. He had loved his father deeply, but he had abhorred the tradition that allowed parents to select spouses for their offspring. But then, he wondered if he’d have felt any different had he been the parent.
Adriana raced up the wide staircase of Randwulf Manor in an anxious quest to get bathed and dressed before dinner was announced. She hadn’t imagined that Stuart and she would be returning so late, yet when Mr. Fairchild had arrived at Wakefield Manor to fetch Felicity, he had proven quite verbose in his praise of his daughter and the beneficial changes he had purportedly been making at his grandfather’s mill. No one, least of all her mother, had wanted to appear rude and urge him on his way until Stuart, seeing their time dwindling rapidly away, had hurriedly explained their need for haste before begging leave of the Fairchilds. Whisking Adriana out the door, he had promptly handed her into her parents’ waiting landau and then had urged Joseph to use all possible speed to get them to the neighboring mansion. He had quickly ascended into the conveyance just as the whip cracked above the horses’ heads and then, as the team shot forward, had fallen into the seat beside her, readily evoking their merriment.
Dinner at both manors was always served punctually every evening, which meant by the time they arrived Adriana had little more than an hour to bathe, dress, and reasonably coif her hair before joining the Wyndhams downstairs in the great hall in time to drink a toast to Stuart’s birthday. She just hoped there would be enough hot water simmering in the kettles above the fire in the bathing chamber to allow her to prepare a bath for herself fairly quickly. It would prove especially beneficial if Helga, the family’s upstairs maid, could lend assistance helping her dress. From previous experience, Adriana knew the woman could speed her on her way.
Years ago, the bedchamber into which Adriana fairly sprinted had graciously been designated as her own. After sweeping her undergarments and gown onto the bed and dropping her slippers beside the chaise, she rushed into the bathing compartment, which nowadays was rarely used unless the house was overflowing with guests. As a child, Samantha had wanted her ensconced nearby whenever she came to spend the night, and had claimed for Adriana the bedchamber on the opposite side of the narrow bathing compartment from her own room. It was rare nowadays that Samantha took advantage of the chambers she had been given as an adult much less those from her youth unless Percy was perchance required to travel alone as royal emissary for the Prince Regent.
As much as Colton had once disliked having to cross the hall to use the bathing room and had squabbled countless times with his younger sibling over her tendency to monopolize the facility and leave it a total disaster after her lengthy baths, that would no longer be the case. Henceforth, as lord and
master of the house, he’d be residing in his own spacious, recently renovated chambers replete with his own private bathing room. Considering the limited luxuries even an officer garnered in the military, such comforts would seem rather grandiose until he got reacquainted with the better things in life.
Considering her tardiness in returning from Wakefield, Adriana had to glumly face the realization that her toilette would be greatly shortened in contrast to what she normally enjoyed. Although she may have acquired a few manly skills from her father throughout her lifetime, she definitely relished occasions to luxuriate in certain feminine pleasures, such as soaking in perfumed baths. As closely as Colton had seemed inclined to approach her earlier that afternoon, she definitely wanted to rid herself of any scent closely resembling a horse. Besides, her black crape gown ornamented with black velvet Vandykes silhouetted upon white satin around the décolletage and the bottom of the hem was new and quite lovely. Before donning her lace and satin chemise and the stylish gown, she yearned to indulge in a warm fragrant bath.
Flames crackled and danced around the belly of a large kettle hanging in the bathing chamber’s small fireplace, lending a cheery warmth to the narrow room, which in the winter months proved especially needful. Yet when Adriana flicked slender fingers through the liquid simmering in the cauldron, she groaned in despair, for it was hardly more than lukewarm. The best bath it promised to yield would be a shallow, tepid puddle in the bottom of a huge tub. Although several large pitchers stood beside the washstand, full to the brim, they were there merely to refill the kettle or to blend with the boiling water once it had been poured into the tub.
Heaving a dejected sigh, Adriana glumly crossed to the huge, copper tub where an empty pitcher had been left. What she saw there caused her to catch her breath in sudden elation, for a fairly deep bath had already been prepared for her.
“Oh, Helga, you’re such a dear,” she crooned in appreciation, and made a mental note to thank the servant profusely for her foresight. The maid could only have run ahead when she had seen her coming, for steam was still drifting over the surface of the water. On an ornate linen rack near the end of the tub, a large linen towel and a bathing cloth hung, evidencing the thoughtfulness of the older woman.
The elongated copper bathing vessel, replete with tall sides and a rounded back, had always been comfortable. In her youth, Adriana had also used it for a hiding place during games of hide-and-seek. Several times she had lain flat and fully clothed on the bottom while Samantha searched high and low for her. The elevated sides had allowed her to remain undetected. Even now, as a grown woman, she had to use the small step kept conveniently near when either entering or exiting the vast confines of the copper vat.
The water was sufficiently hot for a soothing soak, a treat Adriana greatly anticipated. Hastily stripping off her boots, riding habit, stockings, and undergarments, she left them in a disorganized heap on the floor and stepped to the tub. From a vial of rose oil, she drizzled several droplets over the surface of the steaming liquid and then flicked her fingers back and forth to swirl the scent evenly throughout. A sigh of pure delight escaped her lips as she settled into the fragrant water. The bath was actually deeper and hotter than Helga normally prepared, but it was a change Adriana appreciated. It was now comparable to that which her own maid, Maud, prepared for her at Wakefield Manor.
Thoughtfully, Adriana drizzled the contents of a saturated sponge over the pale, rounded hills of her bosom as she leaned back against the curved end of the tub. The warmth of the water proved immensely relaxing, and after the shock of Colton’s return, the confrontation that had ensued between him and Roger, and her tardy return to Randwulf Manor, she felt much in need of a few moments of quiet repose. Perhaps it would even rejuvenate her spirits, which in the last few hours had been suffering mightily from her growing anxieties over the contract and its possible effect on Colton.
Dismissing that fear from her mind took determination, but Adriana folded a wet cloth, laid it over her eyes to block out the glow of the oil lamps hanging overhead, and slid down into the tub until the liquid lapped at her chin. She deliberately turned her mind to the fictional story she had been reading the night before. It had been immensely slow-paced and had soon issued her into the arms of Morpheus.
The tale proved equally effective in recall, for the next thing she became mindful of was a low clearing of a throat interrupting her dreams. Reluctantly rousing herself, she mumbled sleepily, “Thank you for preparing a bath for me, Helga. It has been no less than heavenly.”
Instead of the cordial reply she expected from the plump maid, a deep, throaty “Ha-hmm” intruded, causing Adriana to gasp in sudden alarm and snatch off her makeshift blindfold. For barely an instant, she gawked at the tall, near-naked man looming over the tub before her dark eyes descended and promptly widened in horror. He wore nothing more than a towel around his narrow hips and that linen was bulging ominously in front. In the passing of a heartbeat, Adriana scrambled to sit upright and, upon achieving that position, clasped her arms tightly around her legs as she sought to hide her nudity from the new Marquess of Randwulf.
Having leisurely observed the beauty to his heart’s content while she slept, Colton made no effort to curb an amused, all too confident grin. “I hope I’m not intruding, my lady.”
His casual statement ignited Adriana’s temper. Angrily she railed at him, “Why are you here and not in the master’s chambers?”
He gave a succinct bow, which seemed at the very least absurd, considering the brevity of his attire. “Your pardon, Adriana, but I was told a bath awaited me here.” His tone was warm and mellow, somewhat unnerving to the one who had just screeched at him. “Indeed, had I known we’d be sharing one together, I’d have returned posthaste rather than spend so much time walking the dogs.”
“We’re not sharing anything!” she cried, hauling back the sodden washcloth and letting it fly. Never would she have imagined it would fall short of its mark (his grinning face) and plop across the ominous, towel-covered shelf protruding from the area of his genitals. It caught and hung half-mast where it landed until Colton made a point of plucking it up by a thumb and forefinger. Shaking his head in chiding reproof, he displayed the deepening grooves in his cheeks as he draped the sopping cloth over the rim of the tub.
“Tsk, tsk! Such a temper you have, my dear! ‘Twould seem it hasn’t changed much at all since I left home. And here I was ready to accept your invitation.”
“You conceited buffoon!” she shrieked. “Do you actually think I was waiting for you?”
Her show of outrage bestirred his hearty laughter. Thoroughly incensed, Adriana glowered at him until his amusement dwindled to nothing more than a slanted grin. Meeting her furious glare with glowing eyes, he lifted bare shoulders, which, in contrast to his taut, lean waist, seemed even wider and far more firmly muscled than even his short-cropped military blouse had revealed.
“You can’t really fault a wounded officer recently returned from the wars for hoping that such would be the case, now can you, my dear? You’re the most enticing female I’ve seen in . . . well, perhaps my whole life.”
“I doubt your mother has it in her to run a bawdy house, my lord, nor would I be one of the attractions even if that were the situation,” she stated caustically.
Colton had to wonder if the lady’s indignation was merely a ploy. Long ago, he had become inured to the schemes of lonely wives and harlots who had followed their camps. The latter had used coyly diverse methods in order to entice him into taking them into his cot, and he had to admit that at times he had seriously been tempted by their invitations, but the idea of falling victim to a malady that would perhaps taint him for the rest of his life had been a very sobering restraint. In Adriana’s case, however, he couldn’t believe the Suttons had been anything but protective of their offspring. Yet as much as he yearned to taste and relish firsthand her creamy form, he had to consider at what cost he’d be doing so and what she’d require of him.
Almost betrothed was definitely not the same as actually being betrothed, and being lured into marriage by such a delectable form fully visible to his hungry eyes was an inducement he hoped he’d be able to resist, though, truly, at the moment, he desired to throw caution to the four winds and dally to his heart’s content with the lady, for he had serious cause to doubt that he had ever seen the like of such perfection before. Her beauty certainly made his past conquests seem paltry in comparison.
When he had first entered the bathing chamber, he hadn’t noticed her over the rim of the tub; but after doffing his clothes, he had stepped to the huge copper vat and, upon espying within its confines a nymph as ravishing in her naked glory as any man was capable of imagining, he had experienced a most titillating shock. If after their collision in the gallery he had suffered even the smallest scrap of doubt as to the desirability of the lady’s form, then it had definitely been sundered by the flawlessness to which he had become privy. For a moment, he had savored the delectable details of her womanly curves—admiring her intriguingly round, delicately hued breasts; her smoothly taut belly; and the long, sleek limbs that were far more admirable than any he had ever seen—fully aware of his body responding to the stirring sights. He had almost been reluctant to wake her. If not for the threat of a manservant coming to see if there was anything he needed, he’d have gladly relished the sights until the rising of the sun.
“Have you no sympathy for what I’ve suffered?”
“None at all,” Adriana declared flatly. “But since you seem to belabor your hardships overmuch, no doubt to evoke sympathy where there is none, I’ll relent and leave the bathing chamber entirely to you!” She glanced around for the towel and, upon finding it missing, realized it was the very one that provided him with what little modesty he was presently enjoying.
The Reluctant Suitor Page 12