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Authors: Bronwen Evans

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical Romance, #Regency

BOOK: A Promise of More
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He had no intention of forcing her to share his bed. He had never forced a woman before, and he much preferred his bed partner to enjoy mutual passion. After what he had done to Doogie, he didn’t relish having to force himself on his sister. Seduction was his weapon of choice.

His body began to hum at the idea of a challenge. What would it be like to seduce a woman who disliked him so much? A man of his experience was up to such a challenge. If he was patient, her surrender would be all the more sweeter.

Her surrender was what he would focus on rather than the fact that he was now married.

He wanted her willing. He wanted her pale, perfect body, hot and wanton beneath him. He wanted to hear his name tremble on her lips. He wanted her!

And that thought frightened him to death.

When Beatrice heard Sebastian intended for them to leave the city that very day, she had assumed they would be going north to his estate near York, so that he could abandon her there and return to his life. So she was quite surprised when she heard they were going south to Dorset, to the Earl of Markham’s estate.

They were traveling in Sebastian’s well-sprung traveling coach, and she allowed herself to relax against the velvet swabs. However, several hours of enforced
intimacy with Sebastian, her husband, had taken a toll on her nerves.

They had spoken little on the journey south from London. Sebastian seemed to be deep in thought and she sensed his need for silence and readily complied. What did she have to say to a man like Lord Coldhurst? It was obvious he regretted their marriage. She must be a disappointment to him. He would have had his choice of women to wed, a stunning, graceful, compliant beauty to bear his children and rule his home.

A woman so far removed from her, he couldn’t be anything but bitter.

Beatrice turned her head to observe her traveling companion. He was staring out the window at the passing landscape, engaged in his own private thoughts. Her breath hitched slightly as she regarded him closely. His handsome, noble profile had the power to make her heart flutter, reminding her once again that she was out of her element in dealing with him.

She should hate him, but for some reason, perhaps because he’d been nothing but courteous so far, she couldn’t hold on to her hate. His stunning countenance set her on edge, but she couldn’t let herself feel anything for him. He’d been perfectly clear on the terms of their marriage, and she’d agreed. She would not ask for, nor expect, more.

Did she regret her outrageous proposal? No. She had no illusions about what this marriage would be like. He would carry on his life as per usual and expect her to provide him with children and nothing else.

Part of her wanted to strike back at the man who had killed her brother, and Beatrice knew she could make this marriage a misery for him, perhaps henpeck him to death. The gossips were correct, she had henpecked her brother, but with good cause. She could do the same to Sebastian. A shiver ran over her skin. He would not find her the submissive puppet he thought her to be, but deep down inside she understood a man like Sebastian would not be as easy to control, nor as forgiving of her interference, as her brother.

She watched him with unfettered curiosity. To her surprise, Sebastian became more agitated as they drew closer to Lord Markham’s country estate. She wondered at this sudden trip and why they had to leave town so abruptly.

To gather courage, she gazed for a moment on the lush countryside outside the carriage. She hadn’t been into the country since her come-out; she’d forgotten how breathtakingly beautiful the verdant rolling fields could be. In the distance, men
worked their land. For one moment she envied the simplicity of their existence. She wasn’t silly enough to romanticize their hard life, but sometimes actually working for a living seemed more honorable than marrying for money. They had a term for women who exchanged their bodies for money. Right now she hardly felt different from a well-paid courtesan.

She let the beauty of the sun-filled countryside wash away these distressing thoughts. The large cart horses, lumbering along distant narrow lanes, past grazing sheep and cattle, reminded her of when she was young and they’d spent long, hot summers at her family’s estate. Happier days.

She lost herself in the earthy view until Sebastian moved on the seat opposite her. She turned to face him, determined to get some information out of her new husband. Suddenly she found the courage to speak.

“You seem very pensive, my lord.”

Sebastian stirred and deigned her a look. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“I suppose so. It’s not every day that one of London’s most notorious rakes gets married.”

His mouth curved with a hint of bitterness. “I wasn’t actually dwelling on our wedding. I had an urgent summons to come to Lord Markham’s estate. I’m worried for him. He was in trouble before I left for Jamaica.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Besides, I’m sorry to have left my sisters so quickly. I have only been home for a day, and I could see the hurt in their eyes when I left so abruptly.”

Hearing the rough emotion in his voice, Beatrice felt an odd constriction in her throat. None of her family, she thought, missed her at all. The gentleness in his tone suggested he cared very deeply about his sisters’ welfare.

For a man who disdained love, he seemed to care for his family. “I envy you your close relationship with your sisters. My closest sibling was Doogie and he resented me.”

“We know why.”

She nodded. “He avoided me as much as possible.”

“Because you reminded him of obligations he wished to forget.”

“You don’t find your sisters an obligation?” she asked.

“Sometimes. They can test the patience of a saint.” He bent his head, rubbing one temple with elegant fingers, as if to ease the pain. “However, I’ve realized how selfish I have been. I had never really thought about my sisters’ situation, given my
fall from grace. They are both of marriageable age, and the things I do reflect on them.”

“A man with a conscience. That speaks well of you. I haven’t thanked you for helping us. You could have declined.”

He was silent for a moment. “I owed your family, nothing more to be said. Besides, I have neglected my responsibilities for far too long. I realize that now. Our parents perished at sea when the girls were at an age where they needed a mother, and I took over guardianship of them.” Sebastian grimaced. “I’d been avoiding home for years before my parents died, the arguments driving me away. Besides, what the devil did I know about rearing innocent young girls? I saw they received an excellent education befitting ladies of wealth and rank, but other than the occasional visit home, I rarely saw them. I left it all to Aunt Alison. Until they came to town, they spent most of their time at my estate in York.”

“Marisa is very beautiful. She is nineteen now, isn’t she? I don’t suspect it will take her long to have a marriage proposal,” Beatrice ventured gently. “Then there will only be Helen at home.”

He took a slow, steady breath. “It seems so soon. It seems like only yesterday Marisa was causing havoc with the staff. Putting frogs in Cook’s bed.”

“Marisa is going to need a very special type of husband.” Her statement elicited no response, so Beatrice continued, “She has a mind of her own, she is quite determined, and she knows what she wants.”

“Marisa
is
very sensible underneath her bravado. She knows what it would take to make a good marriage.”

Beatrice blinked. “Make a good marriage? What does it take to make a good marriage, in your opinion?”

Sebastian seemed to hesitate before answering. “I think it takes mutual respect. I think you need to care for the other person, but not care too deeply. You definitely don’t want love to be involved. Love just spins passion and desire into a whirlpool of feelings that cannot be controlled. No. Respect, courtesy, and admiration are all that are required to make a successful marriage.”

There it was again. His disdain for love evident. He almost choked on the word, making Beatrice wince, but she didn’t know what to say. In her own mind she had to agree with Sebastian’s way of thinking. If love was to grow, it had to start with respect, trust, and admiration. Her parents had no love in their relationship, but
unfortunately, neither did they have respect or admiration. This saw them live as virtual strangers in their own house. All she knew was that she didn’t want her marriage to be like her parents’.

“I think that is probably a good recipe in order to have a marriage that is workable. However, admiration and respect are earned. And certainly your past behavior does not lend me to feel very admirable or respectful.”

Sebastian simply turned and looked back out the window. It was obvious he would not be drawn into a discussion on marriage. Perhaps he still had to come to terms with what had occurred this morning.

Some two hours later Beatrice felt the carriage slow; she roused herself from her daydreams to look out the windows as the carriage turned off the main road and onto an avenue lined by towering oaks.

“We have arrived,” Sebastian informed her absently. “They are going to be surprised that I’ve arrived with you. They will be even more astounded when I announce we are married. But they will embrace you and treat you as one of their own.”

The carriage rounded a curve, and she caught her breath at the vista. It was obvious this was the home of a very wealthy man. It was also a place of stunning beauty. Across the parklike gardens an immense building stood in magnificent glory. It was a pretty yet imposing, castlelike house, so large that it would probably take days to learn all its secrets. She half expected to have to cross a moat’s drawbridge to enter. The carriage moved on and swung round the cobbled drive. Beatrice began smoothing her skirts, suddenly nervous.

The instant the conveyance came to a halt, several grooms and footmen leapt to assist. As Lord Coldhurst helped Beatrice alight from the carriage, she made sure her hair was properly tucked in underneath her bonnet.

A man similar to Sebastian in height, but fair of hair, came out to greet them as they walked up the limestone steps. “Sebastian, my man, how wonderful to see you. With guest?” A flicker of puzzlement crossed his features when he took in Beatrice standing beside Sebastian.

“Lord Hadley Fullerton, may I present my wife, Beatrice Hennessey, Marchioness Coldhurst.”

It was the first time Sebastian had ever seen Hadley Fullerton at a loss for words. He quickly hid his shock. “I see we do have a lot to catch up on.” But he
stepped forward and took Beatrice’s hand and raised it to his lips, bowing over it slightly.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Coldhurst. You are a very lucky woman to have captured Sebastian’s heart.”

Beatrice merely smiled and acknowledged his greeting. “Please, as a dear friend of my husband’s, call me Beatrice.”

Sebastian escorted her up the enormous steps and through the imposing doors into the house. “Has everyone else gathered, or shall we wait until later?”

“I did expect you earlier this afternoon—thank you for sending the note. I thought you would be riding down first thing, not taking the carriage, because my missive explained how urgent the situation was.” Hadley was directing them toward the formal drawing room. “The others have finished dining and are relaxing over a drink.” He turned to Beatrice. “As this is your wedding day, Lady Beatrice, would you prefer to freshen up before meeting everyone?”

“Perhaps a few minutes to freshen up would be appropriate.” She needed to calm her racing nerves. As a daughter of a baron, she’d been brought up with wealth, but nothing like this. The house was almost as intimidating as her husband.

The entrance hall was almost as large as her mother’s entire house. The grand staircase dominated the entrance, rising on and on up into the many stories of this grand castle, and there were so many chandeliers it reminded her of a ballroom.

Hadley introduced her to Lord Markham’s butler, Andrews, and the portly housekeeper, Mrs. Tucker, who stepped forward and beamed a good-natured smile. “Newlyweds, how lovely. I would be happy to show Lady Coldhurst to her suite,” she said.

With a polite smile at Sebastian, Beatrice allowed Mrs. Tucker to lead her upstairs. The housekeeper must have sensed her nerves, because she filled the silence as they made their way up several flights of marble stairs: “Lord Markham is to be married tomorrow. Two lots of newlyweds—how marvelous! Bless my soul, since his burns at Waterloo, I thought we’d never see this day. And now … I would never have believed Lord Coldhurst would beat him to it. I suppose the gentlemen are coming to that age where the need for family and children is prominent in their minds.”

Beatrice didn’t know what to say to that, for the housekeeper was probably correct. It was the reason Lord Coldhurst had agreed to her proposal so quickly.

It seemed an eternity of walking down rosewood-paneled corridors lined with
huge portraits of the former Earls of Markham, so many twists and turns she’d never remember the way back, before they came to a wing of the house on the south corner. Sunlight flooded the landing from three very large arched stained-glass windows depicting Christ’s Last Supper. She gave a shiver in the warm glow.

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