A Whisper of Desire (13 page)

Priscilla slipped her arm through his. “Is everything all right? You seem preoccupied.”

He glanced at the girls. “We can leave the serious conversation until a more private moment.” He moved them toward the drawing room. “Come and tell me what you have been up to over the last few months. I've missed you.”

So that's Priscilla.
Damn, she was incredibly beautiful. Marisa didn't think she'd ever seen a woman as lovely as the dowager duchess. It was odd thinking of her as dowager anything—Priscilla looked young, only slightly older than herself.

It was obvious Priscilla and Maitland were close. The way they had embraced as if it were perfectly natural for them to do so, even with his wife present. Or had Priscilla done that deliberately to show Marisa how important Priscilla was in Maitland's life?

Envy, like poison, slid through her blood, burrowing into her soul like a canker.

She spurred Othello toward her old home, not caring if the groom assigned to accompany her kept up. Sebastian better be there or she'd search all over London to find him. She wanted to know if she'd been made a fool. Did Priscilla own Maitland's heart, and if so, why had he married her instead?

The sight of her family home caused a tightening in her throat. Only a few days ago she'd thought herself safe and happy in this house. Now she felt like a stranger walking into her own home. How could she convey how a little thing like a wedding and a marriage bed could change her life so irrevocably?

She waited for the footman to help her dismount, and she handed the reins to her groom. “I'll only be half an hour.” She had to get home to dress for dinner.

Once admitted, she didn't wait to be announced but made her way to Sebastian's study. She did have the courtesy to knock, but before he could answer she entered. To her relief, Sebastian was sitting at his desk, alone. His smile gave way to a frown when he took in her agitated state.

He rose to his feet and came round from his desk. “What has happened? If Maitland is forcing you to go to that club—”

“No.” She shook her head, but ran into her brother's open arms. “I made the decision while Maitland tried to dissuade me. We need to go ahead with Arend's plan. It's the only way, and Maitland would never let anything happen to me.”

“You're special to him.”

She pushed back to look into her brother's face, cupping his cheek. “No. He would do anything to keep me safe because you are special to him. Me, he doesn't really know.”

She turned away from Sebastian, lest he see her tears. She walked to the window overlooking the private back garden. Taking a moment to compose herself, she remembered how carefree she'd been only a few days ago when the world seemed filled with possibilities.

He came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Give your marriage time. Beatrice and I started out on a rocky path, but now I couldn't imagine my life without her.”

She took a sharp breath and asked the question she dreaded the answer to. “Tell me about Priscilla, specifically about Maitland and Priscilla.”

The hands that only moments ago had been tenderly massaging the knotted muscles in her neck dropped from her body.

She slowly turned. “Priscilla arrived in London this afternoon.”

“Priscilla's here? In London?” he asked incredulously.

“Why is that so strange? She is a duchess.”

“She hasn't been to London since her marriage to the late Lord Lyttleton.” Sebastian moved to the sideboard and poured himself a drink. “You should talk to Maitland and get him to tell his story.”

“I tried to talk to him last night about Priscilla, but he told me that some stories were not his to tell, whatever that means.”

She heard her brother curse as she moved to a chair by the fire, trying to warm the cold dread seeping into her bones.

He swung to face her. “He is right. It isn't only his story to tell. We all promised Priscilla—”

“I'm your sister. You owe it to me. If I've married a man still in love—”

“Love? Wait, no, Maitland is not in love with Priscilla. At least not anymore.” He bent to crouch at her feet. “Is that what you think? That they are in love? Let me tell you now that is not the case. If it were, he would have married her long ago.”

She let out the breath that was strangling her throat. She knew her brother. He was not lying.

“Then there is something he is not telling me. He…he is not what I expected.”

Sebastian rose to his feet and took the chair next to her. “I'm not sure I follow. He is a fine man. He would never do anything to dishonor or hurt you.”

“I
know
that.” She felt her face heat, but Sebastian knew her husband well. “I know you were thought of as a rake before you married.” She pressed her fingers to his lips. “Don't deny it, I have heard the women talking.” She smiled and laughed. “And I really wish they hadn't gone into such detail.”

Her brother looked as if he'd rather be at a spinster's embroidery circle than having this conversation.

She took a breath and swallowed her pride. “I have never heard such stories about Maitland.”

She watched as Sebastian's frown grew. “Isn't that a good thing?”

“That depends on why I have not heard any such tantalizing tales.”

“What on earth are you implying?”

She threw up her hands and rose to pace the floor. “I don't know. Is there something wrong with him?” At his blank look she added, “In the bed-sport department.”

Sebastian half rose from his chair and looked appalled. “Wrong?” His voice rose. “What did he do to you?”

She pivoted on her foot and almost yelled, “Nothing. That's the point.”

Sebastian sank back into his chair and looked slightly appeased. “He hasn't—bedded you?”

She dropped her head into her hands, covering her face. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Perhaps you should talk with Beatrice.”

She shook her head. “He ‘bedded me' the night of our wedding. But since then…”

“Perhaps he is trying to be gentlemanly. Thinking of you and…”

“I stood naked in his room, and I even climbed naked into his bed, and he sent me back to my room. He was aroused—”

“
Christ.
I can't be having this conversation. You're my sister, for heaven's sake.”

She ignored his embarrassment and dropped her hands to her sides. “Is there something wrong with me?”

He moved and gathered her in his arms. “No.”

“Then why? Why didn't he want me enough? I thought perhaps it was because he was in love with someone else. Maybe Priscilla.” She snuggled into her brother's safe embrace. “I hoped you might help me understand why a very aroused man might not want me in his bed?”

“I honestly don't know. I think I understand what you're implying, but no, he is not attracted to men. He has always worried about his father's debauched reputation, so his liaisons were discreet. He has never kept a mistress, as far as I know, but he has ‘sown his oats' aplenty.”

She gulped back a cry. “Then it must be me? He just doesn't want me.”

Sebastian didn't say anything. He simply held her as she cried.

After a few minutes her brother kissed her head and said, “You've only been married a few days. Give it time.”

“Did you share Beatrice's bed every night once you married?” He remained silent. “I bet you did. You may not have loved her straightaway, but at least you desired her.”

He offered another explanation. “Some men have more baser urges than others. Some men are not driven to…that is, they don't need…”

“You mean some men like sex more than others? I must follow after my brother, then. I like sex…well, I liked it with Maitland.”

“Please, I really didn't need to know that.”

She could feel how tense Sebastian was as he started muttering under his breath. She pulled back out of his arms and wiped the tears from her face. “Don't you dare say anything about this to Maitland.” As she watched Sebastian's eyes narrow, she added, “This is between me and my husband. Please stay out of it.”

“Then why come to me?”

“You know him better than anyone. I needed to know if he was in love with someone else, someone unacceptable, and that is why he married me.”

Sebastian shook his head. “I've only known Maitland to be in love once, and that was Priscilla. Do not fret; I assure you he does not love her now. If he were in love with another, he would have married her. He would not care about her acceptability.”

“It's a mystery. I suppose I will have to gather my courage and speak with him. Like you say, it's best I talk to Maitland about this.”

“I don't like to think of you sad. I will say one thing. I genuinely believe he was happy about your marriage.”

She nodded and smoothed a hand over her hair. “Thank you, Seb. I needed to hear that. Thank you for listening and allowing me to discuss such private matters with you. You're a wonderful brother.” She hugged him tightly before turning to leave. “We will see you and Beatrice tonight for dinner. Remember, not a whisper to Maitland—this is just between us Hawkestones.”

“You're a Spencer now,” he added quietly. “Talk with Maitland. He's not the easiest man to get to know, but he is honest. I think you two can be happy together. He needs a woman like you to show him the joy in life.”

Was she a Spencer? Then why did she feel so lost?

She pondered Sebastian's words on the way home. Maitland was a serious man, but the words that haunted her the most were Sebastian's plea to help Maitland see the joy in life.

She had to admit that he wasn't the type to be smiley and gay. She'd put that down to the fact he had a madwoman after him, a woman who'd set him up to be disgraced unless he married her. Thinking back to the times he had visited with Sebastian while she'd been growing up, she remembered that Sebastian was right. He wasn't the jovial type.

Except when he'd seen Priscilla. When the dowager duchess barged into his open embrace a genuine smile broke over his face. It had been a look of pure happiness that she'd not seen on his face before.

A sliver of unease slid into her heart.

An hour later, she'd had her bath, and Susan had helped her dress and was now doing her hair. She'd heard Sebastian and Beatrice arriving, so it should be safe to go downstairs. She'd purposely taken longer than necessary to dress, as she did not wish to be alone in the drawing room with Priscilla, having to make polite conversation. She wouldn't know what to say to the woman.

There was a soft knock and Beatrice popped her head round the door, asking, “May I come in?”

“Please do.”

Marisa looked at the reflection of her sister-in-law in the mirror as Susan slipped from the room. Beatrice came up behind her and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Their eyes met in the mirror and Marisa managed a small smile.

“My, you do look beautiful. I envy Susan's skills. She has surpassed herself this evening with your hair.”

“I want to look my best. Have you met Priscilla?”

Beatrice tried to hide a smile. “She was there to greet us, with Maitland, when we arrived. Everyone is wondering where you are.”

“I'm hiding. I didn't want to go down until I knew you had arrived. I didn't wish to have to watch her talk with Maitland.”

Beatrice sighed and moved to sit on the bed. “Sebastian told me of your visit. You know you can always come and talk to me about anything that is bothering you.”

“Was he mortified?”

“Let's just say I've never known your brother to be prudish, but I think your open account of the boudoir sent him into a brotherly frenzy of denial. He specifically told me to tell you, in future any sexual problems or advice pertaining to the bedroom, to come to me. He finds it difficult to think of you or Helen as women with wants and desires.” She waited for Marisa to say something. “Is there anything you want to chat about? It's one of the reasons I came up to find you. I doubt writing to the distinguished ladies who write the Lady's Monthly Museum advice column would be appropriate.”

Marisa laughed. “I'm quite sure you are right. The last advice column I read suggested a successful marriage required a woman to take a firm hand when governing the household, be virtuous, and offer companionship when required.”

“Companionship? What the hell does that mean?”

“I suspect their advice is simply to do as you are told.”

They looked at each other and burst out laughing. After several minutes, they were both wiping the tears of laughter from their faces.

“I have found doing as you are told never got you what you want. And it's boring.”

Marisa nodded in agreement. “Regardless, I have to admit that Sebastian was right. I've only been married a few days and we have yet to find our way. I shall give him a chance to explain tonight. If I don't like what he says, then I'll come to you for advice.”

“He's sure Maitland is not in love with Priscilla. I tend to agree. If he were, he would have married her. He wouldn't have cared what society thought.”

She turned in her chair, nodding. “There is no impediment to stop him from having married her if he really wanted to. I know these feelings of jealousy are silly, but I can't help it. She knows more about my husband than I do.”

“That's to be expected, she's known him longer. She may turn out to be as good a friend to you as she is to Maitland. From what I briefly witnessed this evening, it's obvious Maitland is not in love with her. I think you should give Priscilla a chance.”

Marisa rose from her seat and grabbed Beatrice's hand, pulling her to her feet. “Agreed. Come, I have to meet my stepmother-in-law.”

Marisa entered the drawing room arm in arm with Beatrice and the men all rose to their feet. Everyone was here. Her eyes immediately sought Maitland and her heart did a little waltz in her chest. He looked so handsome, and for once the smile on his face was for her. He looked proud and the look was open, no dark shadows as if he were holding secrets.