His palms itched with the need to touch her again, and his cock refused to go back down. It didn’t help that he could still feel the warmth of her skin, could still smell her desire on his hands.
Cursing, he unbuttoned his trousers and set about giving himself some relief.
Chapter 4
When Sarah woke the next morning, she was no less confused about the events that had taken place the previous evening. She’d expected Hathaway to climb over her and sate his desires within her body and had tried to prepare herself for that scenario. What happened instead had left her shaken. Instead of caring about his own pleasure, he’d thought only of her. And to her surprise, the desire he’d wrung from her had been more than she could ever have imagined.
And then he’d left.
She’d felt the evidence of his desire pressed against her back, so knew he’d wanted to go further. He hadn’t, and she couldn’t understand why. He’d wanted her, she was his wife and he could have had her, but instead he’d walked away.
But most confusing of all was the fact that she hadn’t wanted him to leave. During those last few seconds, when she’d been certain he was about to remove her nightgown, she’d wanted him to do it.
It had occurred to her that in order to get through her wedding night she might have to pretend it was Robert who was touching her. In reality, her entire world had centered only on her husband. As she’d come apart in his arms, it was his face she saw, imagining the way he’d looked at her in the mirror. Everything about him was larger-than-life. How could any other man, even the memory of one she’d once loved, hope to compete when he was near? And for that reason, he posed a danger to her mental well-being.
Was he playing a game with her? In the light of day, she could see only one reason for his actions the previous night. He sought to unbalance her, to keep the upper hand in their relationship.
She wouldn’t be able to avoid Hathaway forever, so she gathered her courage about her, imagining it was a cloak that safely shielded her, and made her way downstairs to the breakfast room.
He was already seated, and she had to endure having his eyes on her as she murmured a quiet greeting and moved to the sideboard where a wide variety of dishes was laid out. It was far more lavish than the breakfasts she’d had at home. Butterflies rioting in her belly, she helped herself to eggs and toast before returning to the table.
Self-consciousness threatened to overwhelm her as she gazed at her husband seated opposite her.
“How did you sleep last night, my lord?” She was aiming for polite conversation but realized her mistake as soon as the words were out.
He gazed at her with mild amusement, one eyebrow quirked. “Horribly,” he said. “But I trust your night was quite satisfactory.”
At the reminder of the pleasure he had shown her, she glanced away, embarrassment causing her cheeks to heat.
“And don’t you think it’s time, Sarah, that you call me by my name?”
The way he uttered her name, as though he were relishing the sound of it on his tongue, did nothing to ease her embarrassment.
“Hathaway?” she asked, confused. Surely she’d already called him by his title. That was how she thought of him.
He shook his head. “No. James. I never expected to inherit, and I find I dislike having my wife call me by my uncle’s title.”
He’d mentioned a rift between him and the former viscount when they’d spoken in the gallery, and she could understand why the constant reminder of his uncle was unbearable.
She inclined her head in agreement. “I’ll try… James.”
His face lit with satisfaction and something else she couldn’t name. When she found herself wanting to draw closer to him, she had to look away to break whatever spell he was casting over her.
She took a forkful of egg and had just managed to swallow it when Hathaway—no, James—indicated that the footman leave the room. Then he brought up that which had been uppermost on her mind since he’d left the previous evening.
“We should talk about what happened last night.”
Her fork clattered to the plate and she cast a furtive look at the door to see if the footman had overheard. She was relieved to find he was nowhere in sight. If he was waiting in the hallway, however, he might be able to hear their conversation.
She kept her voice low when she replied. “Must we?”
He appeared amused by her embarrassment. “Yes, we must. Especially since we are not legally married until the marriage is consummated.”
She closed her eyes, hating that he wanted to talk about the physical side of their union. When she opened them again, his brows were drawn together in concern.
If they were going to talk about the previous night, she might as well take this opportunity to see if she could discover his true motivation for leaving her the night before. Had he been trying to manipulate her, or had he left for another reason?
“Why didn’t you…” She waved a hand between them, asking without saying the actual words why he hadn’t taken his own pleasure. And, as he’d rightly pointed out, made their marriage legal.
“Because I know you didn’t want this marriage and you were afraid. I’m not the type of man to force myself on a woman, not even my own wife. But I did want to show you there was pleasure to be found in the marriage bed.”
A new flood of heat crept into her cheeks as she remembered, again, just how he had touched her. “I think you already know that you succeeded in your goal.”
He was silent for several moments as he stared intently at her. She could feel him examining her as though trying to read her thoughts. “Do you think you’ll be afraid tonight?”
She looked away and tried to imagine him coming into her room after dinner. Remembering the anxiety she had felt as she waited for him last night, she expected some of that feeling to return. Instead, she had to face the truth. She was looking forward to seeing what else her husband could show her.
For a moment she considered putting him off but decided there was nothing to be gained. In fact, the opposite was true. By delaying the inevitable and denying the truth, she risked angering her husband and making things much worse between them.
She shook her head. “I don’t believe so.”
He closed his eyes briefly. “Thank God.”
She could see, in that moment, just how much his consideration of her feelings had cost him. And she realized that perhaps their marriage wouldn’t be the hardship she’d imagined.
It was not yet midday when Sarah was informed that her mother was waiting for her in the drawing room. Her mother hadn’t said anything about planning to visit when she and her father had left the day before, and Sarah couldn’t help but brace herself for bad news.
When she made her way to the drawing room, she found her mother unabashedly admiring the furnishings. The house had an inordinate amount of gold accents and gilded trim, and not just in the accessories or on the frames of the paintings. Sarah considered the decor more than a little ostentatious and wouldn’t be surprised to learn that the arms of the settee were not merely covered with gold leaf but made from solid gold. The way James’s uncle had thrown money about was almost shocking.
Her mother turned when Sarah entered and greeted her with a warm hug. Sarah exhaled in relief and lowered herself onto the settee, inviting her mother to join her.
“This is a surprise, Mama. I didn’t expect you to visit quite so soon.”
Her mother made a fluttering motion with her hand. “I know you’re still on your honeymoon, but surely a mother can be excused for caring about her daughter’s happiness.”
Sarah bit back a sharp retort about how her mother hadn’t seemed concerned about her happiness when she and her father had forced her to accept Lord Hathaway’s proposal of marriage. Instead, she said, “I’m as well as can be expected.”
Her mother pressed her lips together and looked away. “Was last night so terrible?”
Sarah could have kicked herself for her w
ords. She’d consoled herself that in marrying Hathaway… no, James… and having him settle Papa’s debts, she’d at least be able to lessen some of her mother’s worries. And here she was adding to them.
“Last night was…” What could she say? That her wedding night had been wonderful, more amazing than she’d thought possible? That her new husband had been incredibly generous and had thought only of her pleasure? “He was gentle with me,” she said finally. The words were inadequate, but she was reluctant to discuss the details of what had transpired between her and James. Especially since it was clear from her mother’s warnings that the physical side of her own marriage was far from satisfying.
Her mother cast her eyes upward. “Thank heavens. I couldn’t stop thinking about how you’d fare.”
Sarah laid a hand over her mother’s, which were clenched in her lap. “Can we talk about something else? I love you, Mama, but one conversation about what happens between a husband and a wife was already more than enough for me.”
Her mother gave a small laugh, her relief obvious, and turned a hand over to squeeze Sarah’s before releasing it. “I understand. It’s not something I enjoy, but it is a burden all wives bear.”
Trying hard not to think of her parents sharing similar intimacies to what she had experienced, Sarah changed the subject. “How is Papa today? I imagine he’s quite satisfied with himself.”
Her mother made a soft tsking sound at the peevish tone Sarah was unable to conceal. “He is happy, yes, but you can hardly expect him to feel otherwise. Your match was more than he could have hoped for.”
“Because he gambled away my dowry?”
“Must we talk about this?” Her mother stiffened and looked away again.
What was the matter with her? Why must she insist on bringing up subjects that would only make her mother anxious again? Papa’s selfishness meant that her mother was as much a victim of his excesses as she and her brother.
“I’m sorry, Mama. Please tell me, how is George? He almost didn’t arrive in time for my wedding, and I barely spoke to him yesterday.”
“You know your brother. He was anxious about missing school and is already on his way back to Eton. He left early this morning.” Her mother lifted one shoulder in an attempt to appear indifferent, but Sarah could tell that her brother’s haste to escape his family had hurt her. If Papa had celebrated her marriage last night in his usual manner—by imbibing just a little too much and becoming bitter and melancholy—she couldn’t blame him. Now fifteen, at least her brother could escape their father’s outbursts by spending as much time as possible at school.
“I always envied him, you know. That he was able to escape Papa’s moods for most of the year.”
A ghost of a smile touched her mother’s lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I daresay he might say the same of you now.”
Her mother’s statement made Sarah sad beyond words. For her mother there would be no escape from her father’s angry moods when he gambled and lost far more than they could afford. The one time Sarah had raised the subject directly with her mother, she’d replied that she would gladly take hurtful words over physical violence. Something in her mother’s eyes had led her to believe that she’d experienced the latter, or at least been witness to it, but Sarah hadn’t pursued the conversation. She was sure that made her weak, but she hadn’t wanted to know.
“Enough of this grim subject,” Sarah said. “Now that Papa’s debts are settled, I’m sure he’ll be content. Would you like me to show you the rest of the house?”
Her mother couldn’t hide her hopeful expression even as she shook her head. “I fear I’ve already taken up too much of your time…”
Sarah waved her hand in dismissal of her mother’s reservations. “Nonsense. Besides, it will help me to refresh my own memory. This house is so large I fear I’ve already forgotten much from the tour the housekeeper took me on yesterday.” She stood and held her arm out to her mother. “Shall we?”
Chapter 5
To say that dinner was a stilted affair would have been a vast understatement. It was just the two of them, and his new wife had informed the staff to serve their meal in the breakfast room instead of the much larger dining room.
In that moment, when he’d stood to welcome her as she entered the room, he realized just how much they had in common. As the only brother to the former Viscount Hathaway, there was no question that his father would be accepted by the ton. But his family almost never ventured out into society, and the formal trappings of that world—his world now—felt unnatural to him. He was more comfortable raising horses in the stables his father had founded than negotiating the ballroom, and he struggled with what to say and what was expected of him in this new life.
Given the modest means by which her family lived, Sarah’s simple request to have their meal served in the smaller room spoke volumes as to her character. He’d expected his new wife to revel in the wealth that came with her new position. He had no doubt that she could hold her own in even the most imposing of dining rooms. The fact that she’d sought out comfort over formality gave him hope for their relationship.
The tension in the room was almost palpable, and James struggled for a way to ease it. From the way Sarah avoided his gaze as the first course was served, he knew she was thinking about their conversation that morning. He’d asked her if he could make love to her tonight and she had agreed.
He’d thought of little else all day.
He’d tried to distract himself, somehow managing to stay away from the house so he wouldn’t drag Sarah up to his bedroom to make up for the wedding night he’d denied himself. He’d gone first to the dower house to visit his mother and sister. His mother tended toward self-sacrifice, and he wanted to ensure his family didn’t want for anything. After leaving them, he’d headed to the stables.
Inheriting the viscountcy had affected his entire family. James’s father had received only a modest inheritance that consisted of a small, unentailed property in Newmarket. He’d taken that inheritance and founded a stable that had gone on to become one of the best in all of England.
James had continued his father’s legacy when the stables had passed down to him and his brother Edward. His passion for raising horses hadn’t ended now that he was the viscount. For all his uncle’s excesses, the stables at Hathaway Park were unexceptional, and James had only been able to bring a handful of horses with him to Northampton. But work was currently underway to construct new, larger stables. He hoped when his brother retired from the military that together they’d be able to expand the business.
Despite managing to fill the hours until it was time for dinner, it had been next to impossible to stop his thoughts from drifting to his wife and everything he wanted to do when he finally had her alone again. She probably wouldn’t enjoy their first coupling, but he’d make it up to her in other ways.
He shifted in his seat as he began to grow hard. Again. He’d been half hard for most of the day.
So lost was he in thoughts of the coming night he almost didn’t realize Sarah was speaking to him.
“Mrs. Phillips mentioned that you went to visit your mother and sister. They are more than welcome to stay here.”
“Emily would like nothing better, but mother is finding her change in station a little overwhelming. I tried to convince her to move into the manor, but she prefers the smaller dower house. It reminds her of our former home.”
Her brow furrowed, and she was silent for several seconds before saying, “I hope you’re not saying that to spare my feelings. I imagine any mother would want more for her son than to marry the daughter of a man who’d gambled away everything that wasn’t entailed.”
Her words took him by surprise. He never imagined that she’d believe she wasn’t good enough for him. The thought was laughable.
“To be completely honest, Uncle was horrible to us. The rest of us paid no attention to his snide comments about our branch of the family, but his belief that he was our superior
in every way bothered my mother more than a little. I fear it has tainted her enjoyment of her new situation. She’s here only as a show of support to me. If she had her preference, she’d be returning home.” He scowled as he remembered just how much the old viscount had upset his mother.
“Well then, I’d say we’re evenly matched. I know for a fact your uncle never approved of my family. I daresay he’s turning over in his grave even as we speak.”
The corners of his mouth lifted in amusement. His wife had wit and spirit. He liked that about her.
“To upsetting my uncle’s plans,” he said, raising a glass.
With a small laugh, she raised her own glass, and they shared an unexpected moment of quiet camaraderie.
They fell into silence again as they finished their meal. Minutes ticked by and he could sense Sarah growing more tense. Much to his chagrin, he found himself considering if the best course of action would be to continue in the same vein as the previous evening. But he honestly didn’t think he had it in him to show such restraint a second time, which meant he might just have to absent himself altogether after dinner.
When dessert was served and he had to endure watching his wife close her eyes as she enjoyed the syllabub, his control almost snapped. He barely restrained himself from taking her hand and leading her upstairs right then.
Finally, after what was surely an eternity, the meal was finished and the last plate whisked away. When Sarah looked at him, there was no missing the fact that her nerves were back in full force.
“I am at a loss as to what happens now,” she said. “Normally my mother and I withdraw to the drawing room after dinner and I read while she sews. My brother joins us when he’s home. On those rare occasions that he doesn’t go to the tavern, my father buries himself in his study.”
Lord Hathaway's New Bride Page 3