Читать книгу: «Pride in Regency Society: Wicked Captain, Wayward Wife / The Earl's Runaway Bride», страница 3

Eve realised Nick was looking at her with a steady, unsettling gaze. She needed to say something. ‘How soon do you wish to be married, Captain Wylder?’

Goodness, how matter of fact she sounded.

‘By the end of the month.’

‘The end of the—!’

‘Why, yes, I see no reason to rush into this with a special licence. We have time for the banns to be read in church. We shall be married here, of course. I have no doubt that is what you would like—’

‘But I haven’t agreed to it yet!’

With a laugh he pulled her into his arms. ‘No, but you will.’

He was grinning down at her. Eve found it difficult to concentrate, her thoughts seemed to centre on the dimple in his left cheek.

‘Wh-what will Grandpapa say to such a hasty marriage?’

‘Oh I think he will agree.’ He kissed her, a sizzling, burning kiss that sent shockwaves tingling right down to her toes. ‘What say you, Eve, will you be my wife?’

‘But—’ She tried to collect her wayward thoughts. ‘We have only just met!’

‘And we have more than three weeks until the wedding to get to know one another.’ He kissed her again. ‘Well?’

She struggled out of his arms. ‘No, no. It is out of the question,’ she said crossly. ‘You appear out of nowhere, big and brash and—and totally overwhelming, and you expect me to agree to be your wife! No, sir, I will not do it!’

He dropped to his knees before her, throwing his arms wide. ‘Evelina, don’t you want to marry me?’

She clapped her hands over her mouth to stifle a giggle. ‘Get up, sir, before someone sees you!’

‘Not until you answer my question.’

Evelina stared at him. His blue eyes twinkled and that irrepressible dimple cut into his cheek. Heavens, was the man never serious?

‘Well, Evelina; will you give me your answer?’

A stillness settled over the garden. The birds were silent, not a breath of wind stirred the bushes; the whole world was hushed, waiting for her reply. Suddenly she knew that there was nothing she wanted more than to be married to Nick Wylder.

‘Very well,’ she said quietly. ‘I will marry you.’

Chapter Three

‘Oh heavens, what have I done?’

Evelina paced about her bedroom, her clasped hands pressed to her mouth. The arrival at Makerham of a prospective husband should not have come as a surprise, her grandfather had told her often that he would find her a suitor and she had told him that she would abide by his judgement. But she had not expected that gentleman to be so dazzlingly attractive as Captain Wylder, nor had she foreseen that he would propose to her upon such short acquaintance. Even more extraordinary was the fact that she had accepted him!

Eve paused by the window. The last remnants of daylight had disappeared and the glass reflected her image like a dark mirror. She had always considered herself a sensible, level-headed young woman, so what madness had possessed her, standing in the garden with the heady scent of summer roses in the air, to accept his proposal?

‘No, no, it will not do,’ she said aloud, resuming her perambulations. ‘Tomorrow I must tell him I have changed my mind—not changed my mind,’ she amended. ‘Merely that I want a little more time to think over his proposal.’

She climbed into bed and snuffed out her candle, satisfied that she had resolved upon a very sensible course of action.

‘Hell and damnation we’re in the suds now.’ Nick shrugged himself out of his coat and tossed it to his valet. ‘I had not planned this, Richard!’

‘I thought the whole point of coming here was to propose to the young lady,’ murmured Granby, folding the coat and laying it tenderly over a chair.

‘Yes, of course, but I behaved like a veritable mooncalf!’

‘But I understand Miss Shawcross has accepted your offer, Captain.’

‘Aye, she has.’ Nick slumped down into a chair and gave a heavy sigh.

‘Then I wish you happy, sir.’

‘Damn your impudence! This wasn’t meant to happen—or only as a last resort.’ A wry smile tugged at one side of his mouth. ‘The truth of it is she’s bowled me over, Dick. She floored me with the very first glance from those great brown eyes and I haven’t recovered since.’

‘Her maid tells me Miss Shawcross is a very accomplished young lady.’

‘Aye, so she is. The wonder is that she wasn’t snapped up years ago.’

‘Martha—that’s her maid, Captain—Martha says that she’s lived here very quietly since she finished her schooling. Sir Benjamin’s health being so poor they have never been in the habit of entertaining.’

Nick gave a short laugh. ‘So she’s been waiting here all these years, like a Sleeping Beauty! But the devil of it is I’m no Prince Charming.’

A ghost of a smile flitted across Richard Granby’s impassive features. ‘If you’ll pardon me, sir, I think there’s plenty of ladies would disagree with you there.’

Nick waved his hand impatiently. ‘What if she finds out why I am really here?’

‘Perhaps you should tell her.’

‘Damn it all, Richard, what would she think of me, marrying her to get control of her property? No, I’ll keep my own counsel. After all, another few weeks and this business will be finished, so there’s no reason for Miss Evelina Shawcross to know anything about it.’ Nick ran a hand through his hair. ‘But I do not like the idea of rushing her into this marriage. Mayhap we will merely go through the ceremony. After all, I shall need to get back to the coast almost as soon as the wedding is over. That way, if she finds she really cannot stomach me—’

‘If you’ll forgive me saying so, Captain, whenever your liaisons have finished it’s rarely been the lady’s choice to end it.’

‘Aye, but Miss Shawcross is different.’ He pushed himself out of the chair and stretched. ‘Look out my nightgown, if you please, Richard. It must be well after midnight by now and time I—’ He broke off, frowning. ‘Now what the devil is the matter?’

From the corridor outside his room came the sound of urgent whispers and hurrying footsteps. Nick strode over to the door and flung it open. Sir Benjamin’s valet was making his way along the passage and by the glow of the lamp he was holding aloft Nick observed that his coat was unbuttoned and his hair tousled, as if he had been roused untimely from his bed. Nick stepped out into his path.

‘Well, Rooney, what’s amiss?’ he demanded.

‘It’s the master sir. He’s had one of his turns.’

‘Can I be of help—can Granby ride for a doctor?’

‘Thank you, Captain, but no. I’ve already despatched a groom to fetch Dr Scott. If you will excuse me, sir, I must get back to Sir Benjamin. Miss Eve is with him, but I do not like to be away for too long.’

‘Of course.’ Nick stepped aside and, after watching the valet hurry out of sight, went back into his room.

‘Is it the old gentleman sir?’ asked Granby. ‘I heard he was very down pin.’

‘Yes, he is. Go along and see if there is anything we can do, Richard. Sir Benjamin’s man is reluctant to trouble me, but he may be more forthcoming to you.’

Having despatched his man, Nick found himself alone. Silence settled around him but it did nothing to relieve his anxiety. He was a guest in the house, but it was unthinkable that he would sleep while Eve was sitting up with her grandfather. He snatched up his coat. There must be something he could do.

When Eve left Sir Benjamin’s room her eyes were gritty with lack of sleep. She held aloft a bedroom candlestick to light her way through the dark passages and down the stairs. The arch leading to the great hall glowed with a welcoming light and as she moved forwards she could see that the fire had been built up and several candles burned brightly in the wall sconces. Nick Wylder was bending over the fire, stirring a large black pan that seemed to be balanced precariously amongst the flames. He straightened and turned as he heard her approaching footsteps.

‘I was told that you were here, Captain.’ She nodded towards the fireplace. ‘I doubt anyone has cooked upon that fire for generations.’

‘Punch,’ he said, smiling. ‘Nothing like it for restoring the spirits in the middle of the night.’

‘I am sorry if we woke you.’

‘No need, I was not asleep.’ He reached out for her hand and led her to the settle on one side of the hearth. ‘How is Sir Benjamin?’

‘Quieter now. Grandfather panics when an attack comes on and he cannot get his breath, but Dr Scott always calms him.’

She sat for a moment, staring into the flames.

‘I hope you do not mind, I built up the fire. It is summer, I know, but somehow a good blaze always seems more comforting at times like these.’

‘It does, thank you, but you should not have had to do that.’

He waved his hand dismissively.

‘Your servants are busy with their master. I would not add to their load.’ He turned back to the cooking pot and ladled some of its contents into a cup. ‘Here, try this.’

She curled her fingers around the warm cup. She had not realised how cold she had become. A sweet, pungent aroma rose from the liquid and her eyes widened.

‘Rum.’ Nick grinned. ‘Try it.’

Cautiously she took a sip. It was warm and sweet with a fiery bite that made her cough, but it was strangely comforting. Nick was watching her and she managed a small smile.

‘Thank you. That is just what I need. Perhaps we should offer some to Dr Scott before he leaves.’

‘Of course. Are these attacks a regular occurrence?’

‘They have been more frequent in recent months.’

‘I did not realise Sir Benjamin was so ill.’

‘He hides it well. He does not like people to fuss over him.’ She read the question in his eyes and her gaze dropped to the cup clutched between her hands. ‘The attacks weaken his heart. The doctor says we must be prepared…’ She did not trust her voice to continue so she sipped at the punch. When she looked up again Nick was watching her, such kind concern in his face that she found herself smiling at him. ‘Perhaps now you understand why Grandpapa is so eager to see me settled,’ she said, handing him back the empty cup. ‘He worries so about what is to become of me when he is gone.’

He sat down beside her on the settle. ‘Then at least I can relieve his mind on that account, and perhaps on another.’ He reached for her hands. ‘When we are married we need not remove to Yorkshire immediately. I think you would prefer to remain near your grandfather.’

His words allayed her barely acknowledged anxiety. She fixed her eyes on his face.

‘Truly, you would not mind if we lived here for a little while?’

‘Truly. I have an excellent steward who has managed my affairs for a good many years; he will cope for a little while longer.’

‘Thank you.’ Her relief and gratitude were palpable. Without thinking she leaned towards him and he enfolded her in his arms. It is, she thought, nestling her head contentedly against his shoulder, like coming home after a long and tiring journey.

Nick rested his cheek against her hair, breathing in the sweet, flowery fragrance. She felt so fragile, so delicate within his arms that he was afraid to hold her too tightly lest she should fracture. His heart ached. He wanted not only to possess this dainty creature but to protect her. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and not altogether comfortable.

They remained locked together in companionable silence for several minutes while the long case clock ticked steadily and logs crackled in the fireplace. He wondered if now was the time to talk to her, to take her into his confidence. He held his peace. It was government business, not his to share. She was so fragile that he did not want to add more worries to her slender shoulders. Besides, in a few more weeks it would all be settled.

Chapter Four

‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered here…’

The little church at Makerham was packed. Evelina stood, eyes modestly lowered, and wondered how she had come to this. A month ago there had been no thought of marriage in her head, then Nick Wylder had ridden into her life and changed it for ever. A month ago she had not known of his existence; now she could not imagine life without him.

With the exception of a few days when he had been obliged to go to town on business, Nick had been her constant companion at Makerham Court. They rode through sun-dappled lanes, walked in the gardens and in the evenings they played cards with Sir Benjamin, or Eve would sit in the corner with her embroidery while the two men talked or played backgammon together. Nick’s energetic presence filled the house. Eve woke every morning with a little thrill of anticipation, knowing he would be waiting for her. They talked for hours, although she had little recollection of what they talked about. Occasionally they would argue, and it would end with Nick pulling her into his arms and kissing her. She had never known such happiness. It was especially gratifying to see her grandfather’s approval of her future husband and not even the business of the marriage contract upset this happy state of affairs; Sir Benjamin talked to Eve with smug satisfaction about jointures and settlements and Eve did not press him for details: it was enough for her that he was happy.

And now they were in Makerham church, standing side by side, exchanging marriage vows. A fairy-tale. Some might say it was too good to be true. Eve had to keep pinching herself to believe in her good fortune. Nick’s brother, the Earl of Darrington, came to act as his groomsman. Eve thought he looked rather disapproving, but his greeting was kindly enough and he even kissed her hand when she came out of the church on her husband’s arm. Her husband. A frisson of excitement trembled through her.

‘So, you are my sister now.’ The earl smiled, lightening his rather sombre expression and all at once looking much more like Nick. ‘Welcome to the family, my dear Evelina. I look forward to the day when I can welcome you to Wylderbeck Hall. It is a long way north, but Nick will tell you it is well worth the journey. I wish it was not necessary for me to leave immediately after the wedding breakfast, but so it is; if Nick had given us more notice of your nuptials we would have had time to become acquainted—’

‘And have you cut me out, brother?’ put in Nick. ‘I wanted to make sure of my lady first!’

The earl’s smile was a little strained.

‘Take care of her, Nick. And bring her north very soon, that she may meet the rest of the clan.’

‘I should like that, my lord.’ Eve cast a questioning look at Nick.

‘I will bring her to you as soon as I can, brother. Our plans are a little uncertain for the moment; we will be staying at Makerham for a few weeks yet.’

‘My grandfather’s health is not good,’ explained Eve. ‘The wedding has been a great effort for him, although he was determined it should be held here.’

Nick put his hand over hers. ‘I said I would not take you away from Makerham until he is better. You have my word on that.’

She nodded and leaned against him, drawing comfort from his presence at her side. They both knew there was little chance of her grandfather growing stronger. She did not wish to consider the more likely outcome, but it was there, unspoken, and Nick understood. The message was in his eyes now as he looked at her. They would not leave Makerham while Sir Benjamin had need of her.

‘I am only sorry that more of your family could not be present,’ she said later, when they were standing at the entrance to Makerham Court, ready to receive their guests at the wedding breakfast.

‘Do not be,’ laughed Nick. ‘They would have turned our little celebration into a riotous occasion! Darrington is the serious one, the rest of them are rakes and rabble-rousers, as you will see when I take you to Yorkshire to meet them!’

‘I am sure they are not as bad as you make out. Indeed, there are some from my own family that I would as lief not see here,’ she murmured, directing his attention to a tall, heavy-browed gentleman who was approaching them. She raised her head, saying more loudly, ‘Captain, may I introduce to you my cousin, Mr Bernard Shawcross?’

Mr Shawcross swept off his hat and made such a deep bow that his nose almost touched his knees.

‘We have met in town, Cousin. Let me tell you, Captain Wylder, that you have stolen the march on me, it was always my desire to wed my lovely Cousin Evelina.’

She gave him a honey-sweet smile. ‘A pity then that you did not apprise me of the fact, Cousin.’

‘Ah, but I did not wish to deprive Sir Benjamin of his most devoted companion,’ came the smooth reply.

‘Oh?’ she murmured, ‘from the number of times I have read your name in the society columns of the London newspapers I thought you were far too busy chasing heiresses to think of me. A pity that you have been unsuccessful thus far, Bernard.’ His mouth tightened in displeasure and her smile widened.

‘Mere gossip, Evelina,’ he replied shortly. ‘I am surprised you should take note of such tittle tattle.’

‘And have you come directly from town today, sir?’ asked Nick.

Bernard Shawcross shook his head. ‘I am currently staying with friends near the coast. I regret, Cousin, that I have engagements there I cannot break and will be returning to Sussex in the morning. I shall leave you my direction, in case you need me.’

‘Thank you, Bernard, but I can’t think that we shall ever need you,’ she murmured wickedly. ‘However, let us not quarrel; I bid you welcome, Cousin. We are delighted that you have graced our wedding with your presence.’

‘It was the very least I could do, Evelina, even though the event has taken place with—er—indecent haste.’

Her smile widened at his obvious annoyance.

‘We are merely following Grandpa’s wishes,’ she returned, coolly. ‘Have you spoken to him yet? No? Then perhaps you should do so now, while he is free.’ She added quietly, as he turned on his heel and stalked away, ‘It would do you no harm to play the dutiful heir once in a while.’

Nick drew his breath in with a hiss. ‘Remind me never to get on the wrong side of you, madam wife,’ he murmured.

‘At one time Bernard was forever calling at Makerham, asking Grandpapa to advance him loans against his inheritance. Thankfully he has not called at all for the past year, so I can only suppose that he has learned to live within his means.’

‘That, or he has found an additional source of income,’ observed Nick. ‘You will note that his coat is of the very finest cut: such tailoring only comes at a price.’

‘I do not care how he comes by his money as long as he stays away from Makerham.’ Eve shuddered. ‘I cannot like him, his manner towards me has always been…possessive, and I dislike the way he fawns over Grandpapa, as though his well-being is his only concern, yet when he leaves he never writes to enquire after Grandpapa’s health—but perhaps I refine too much upon it.’

‘You need not concern yourself with your cousin any longer, sweetheart. I will not let him trouble you.’ Nick squeezed her fingers. ‘Come, my dear, our guests have all arrived now, I think we may take our places at table.’

They feasted in the great hall, which had been decorated for the occasion with garlands of summer flowers. Even though she was the bride, Eve was also the hostess and it was her duty to announce the wines for the diners and to direct their attention to the cold meat dishes and salads available on the sideboard. She also had to watch the servants to make sure no guest was neglected. With so much to do it there was little time for reflection. It was not until the meal was ending that she allowed herself to think about the coming night.

Her wedding night.

‘That went off very well, I think,’ declared Sir Benjamin as the last of the carriages drove away. ‘I do wish, however, that we had invited at least some of our people to stay here.’

Eve came to stand beside his chair.

‘You know we would not have been able to accommodate more than a few of our guests—and we should have been obliged to offer Bernard a room; you know how much you would dislike that.’

‘You are very right, my love. They will be a deal more comfortable at the White Hart. Ah, and here is Rooney come to take me to my room. Goodnight, my dear, Captain Wylder. Such a tiring day, I shall sleep well, I think.’

As she watched her grandfather leave the room, leaning heavily upon his valet’s arm, Eve knew a moment of panic. For the first time that day she was alone with her husband. There had been no awkwardness on previous evenings; she had merely bade him goodnight and they had gone their separate ways, but tonight she knew that the oriel bedroom had been prepared for them. It was the principal bedchamber in the house and legend had it that Henry VIII had slept there. On Sir Benjamin’s instructions it had been cleaned and the huge tester bed furnished with new bed linen. Eve had a sudden, wild fancy to ask Nick if he would like to play a game of backgammon.

‘We should retire,’ he said gently. ‘Your maid will be waiting to put you to bed and Richard will be looking out for me also; we must not disappoint them.’ He took her hands and lifted them one after the other to his lips. Even that small gesture made her knees grow weak. ‘Off you go, my dear. Send word when you are ready for me.’

She found Martha bustling around the oriel bedroom. Her new linen nightgown was laid out on the bed. It looked pale and insignificant against the blood-red velvet of the bedhangings. Eve shivered.

‘Martha, I don’t know what to do,’ she whispered, desperately.

Her maid chuckled. ‘With the two of you smelling of April and May ever since Captain Wylder arrived? You will have no problems, Mistress. Leave it all to the captain. Now then, Miss Eve, let me help you out of your gown.’

Send word when you are ready, Nick had said. Perhaps she need not send for him at all. She thought wildly that she would lock the doors and spend the night alone, but she knew that would not do. In the event it was not her decision. Once Martha had put her into her nightgown and arranged her hair becomingly around her shoulders, she gathered up her clothes.

‘There. You look as pretty as a picture, mistress. I will send word to the captain that you await him. Shall I light the candles before I leave you?’

‘No.’ The summer night was drawing in, but it was not yet dark. ‘Leave them.’

Outside the open window Eve could hear a night bird singing. Her nerves were on edge and every sound seemed louder, sharper.

I’m not ready for this, she thought suddenly. Nick Wylder is a stranger. She wrapped her arms about her, closing her eyes to conjure his face in her mind. She pictured him smiling at her with that warm, understanding look in his eyes and her panic subsided. Nick was no stranger. In her heart she had always known him.

Nick stood in the doorway and regarded the little figure by the window. She had her back to him, and her head was bowed as if in prayer.

‘Eve?’ He spoke her name quietly.

She jumped and turned. The light from the window provided a gleaming halo for her hair as it flowed down over her shoulders. He could see every curve of her body through the gossamer-thin nightgown. The sight inflamed him, rousing the desire he had kept under control for the past four weeks. His breath caught in his throat. By heaven, how he wanted her! As he crossed the room he saw how nervous she was. He felt a desperate desire to tell her everything, but he dare not. Not yet. He must control himself, play for time. As long as they did not consummate the marriage then he could set her free, when it was all over and the danger was past. He would explain why it had been necessary to marry her in such haste and then, if she still wanted to be his wife, so be it, but it must be her choice. He owed her that much. He reached out and placed his hands gently on her shoulders. Her eyes, dark and luminous in her pale face, looked towards him for reassurance. His mouth was dry; suddenly he was anxious. What if he broke her heart?

‘Eve, we do not have to do this tonight…’

She put her fingers against his mouth. ‘I want to, Nick. I want to, very much,’ she murmured, then with her hands on his shoulders she reached up and kissed him.

Nick felt the touch of her lips and he was lost.

Evelina marvelled at her temerity, yet when she had seen the concern in Nick’s eyes her own doubts had fled and she had desperately wanted to comfort him. She felt his arms around her and her own crept about his neck. As Nick kissed her back with increasing urgency her lips parted and his tongue explored her mouth, flickering and teasing and stirring up the hot fire that burned deep in her belly. He was wearing a brightly patterned dressing robe, but through the heavy silk she could feel his body, hard against hers and she experienced a heady, exhilarating sensation of power even as he swept her up and carried her to the bed. She kept her eyes on his face, marking every line and shadow, the purposeful curve of his lips and the deepening colour of his eyes—they were almost black as they looked at her now and she trembled at the passion in their depths. He laid her on the covers and she reached up for him, wanting to kiss him again, but he resisted while he untied the belt of his robe. Eve’s eyes widened as he shed the heavy satin. She had expected him to be wearing a nightshirt and the sight of his naked body surprised her. Nervously she ran her tongue over her lips. Nick lowered himself gently on to the bed beside her, measuring his length against hers, propping himself upon one arm while he ran his free hand gently across her cheek.

‘You are so beautiful,’ he murmured. ‘More than I ever imagined.’

Eve swallowed hard. ‘So, too, are you,’ she managed to say with a shy, tremulous smile.

He bent his head, capturing her lips again while his hands moved over her, caressing her body through the thin nightdress. Eve’s own hands were exploring too, running over Nick’s arms, stroking his shoulders, tracing his spine. His body was smooth and firm beneath her fingers, the muscles rippling beneath the skin. His kisses deepened and her own desire mounted. She wanted to be closer to him; even the thin muslin of her nightgown between them was too much. She broke away and sat up, scrabbling to drag off the last scrap of fabric that separated her from Nick. After a heartbeat’s hesitation he helped her, his breathing as ragged as her own. As she raised her arms to drag the gown over her head she felt his hands capturing her nakedness. Collecting up her breasts, he buried his face in their softness. Gasping, she freed herself from the flimsy material and they fell together on to the covers in a tangle of limbs.

Nick’s lips moved back up her body, slid over her mouth, his kiss urgent and demanding while his hands on her skin caused her body to writhe out of her control. She threw back her head, shuddering with surprise and delight as his hand moved between her thighs, gently easing them apart. She arched beneath his questing fingers, moving against them, not knowing why, only aware of the ache in her groin and the pleasurable sensations he was arousing deep, deep within her. He kissed her neck; she felt his lips briefly on her collar-bone, then they fastened over one erect nipple and she gasped. The pleasure was so heady and intense that she thought she might faint. She was soaring, flying and falling all at the same time. Her hands gripped him, fingers digging into his shoulders as the first spasm shook her, then a second. She knew a moment’s panic as those pleasuring fingers eased away and Nick rolled over and entered her. She gave a little cry and he froze. Desperately Eve pushed against him.

‘No, no, do not stop,’ she gasped.

She heard him give a shaky laugh. ‘I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to.’

The blood was pounding in her ears, singing through her body as they moved together. The wave of pleasure had receded, but it was building within her again. She matched her movements to Nick’s, running her hands over his muscled back, keeping pace with him as the tempo increased, the heady wave building and building until at last, when she thought she might die of pleasure, it crested and broke. She heard a cry, but did not know if it came from her or Nick. He tensed and tensed again before they subsided together, shuddering and gasping for breath.

They lay side by side on the silken bedcovers, fingers entwined. The daylight had gone now, replaced by a fine silvery moonlight that cast a magical gleam over their naked bodies.

‘Nick?’ Eve raised herself upon one elbow and looked at him. Her heart lurched. Could this handsome man really be her husband? Was it possible that he could love her, that she could satisfy him? She gently brushed her hand across the scattering of crisp black hairs that grew on his chest. ‘Was—was that how it is meant to be? Was it, I mean, was I—?’

His hand came up to trap hers against his chest. He grinned at her. ‘You were magnificent, Eve. I am a very lucky man.’

She flushed with delight. He reached up, hooked his fingers around her neck and began to pull her down to him. ‘In fact,’ he whispered, ‘I think we should try that again, just to be sure…’