An Infamous Marriage (23 page)

“I’m not sure. I would’ve sworn he didn’t know. I was hardly the only one, either.”

“Perhaps he didn’t know, then, but it came up in some quarrel later.”

“I’m sorry, Elizabeth.”

She began to wish she’d never brought it up. Reaching into the darkness, she laid a tentative hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to apologize all over again. This doesn’t change anything. I already knew everything but her name, and I’ve already forgiven you. I’m sorry Mr. Liddicott is making himself unpleasant, but it shouldn’t change anything that’s between us now.”

“No,” he said after a long pause. “It shouldn’t. I hope we won’t be obliged to see much of him, but you’re right. Nothing has changed.”

But something
had
changed, Elizabeth thought as she lay awake long into the night. It was the first time they had returned home from a ball, no matter how late the hour, and not come together in bed. She supposed it was only natural after such a conversation, but it left another chill on her happiness.

* * *

The next day Jack awoke in a foul mood. He tried to tell himself it was only lack of sleep that made the late May sunshine seem like a personal affront, but he knew better. What the devil was Henry Liddicott doing in Brussels? He wasn’t with the army anymore, so what had brought him here when he ought to be rusticating at his home in Cornwall? Bella had always hated Cornwall, Jack remembered, resenting any time her husband obliged her to spend there, away from the glamour of London society or the young, masculine environment of the regiment on campaign.

He’d quickly learned that his aide-de-camp was an endless fount of gossip, so he asked, casually, as soon as Beckett had finished listing the gentlemen the young Lennox ladies had danced with the night before and which of them were thought to be serious suitors, if he had any idea why Liddicott was here.

“I don’t know, sir.” Beckett frowned at his own ignorance, then brightened. “But I’m sure I can find out.”

“If you will, but I’d rather you not mention that I was asking questions about it. He and I, ah, we weren’t the best of friends when we served together. I’m ready to forget old grudges, but I’m less certain he is.”

“Silent as the grave, sir.”

With that, they both turned their minds to regimental business, but the next morning Beckett came whistling into the parlor that Jack had made his office. “Your old friend Liddicott, sir, is here for precisely the same reason so many of our civilian families are. He wishes to live more cheaply than he can at home.”

Jack frowned over the regimental returns he’d been reviewing. “I thought Brussels wasn’t cheap any longer now that we’ve filled it up with soldiers. I’m sure I heard Lady Caroline Capel complaining about how dear everything was becoming just last week.”

“If people
will
have a dozen children and gamble at every opportunity...but you wish to know about Liddicott, not the Capels. His need is more particular. It seems his home was damaged in a fire, and he had a nephew already established here in town who offered to let him stay
gratis
until the repairs are completed.”

Jack nodded. “Thank you, Lieutenant. What messages from the duke? I don’t suppose we’re to march for France tomorrow?” he said lightly. He knew the answer was no, though he wished it were otherwise. It would solve the problem of Liddicott neatly, if they could simply leave Brussels. But army gossip held that the advance wouldn’t commence until July, and if Wellington had any other plans, he’d taken no one into his confidence.

“What, and spoil Lord Uxbridge’s cavalry review? Impossible.”

Jack chuckled. “What if the French decide to march over the border and spoil it for us? If they’ve all the spies they’re credited with, they must know of it.”

Beckett looked momentarily troubled, then smiled again, his sunny nature overcoming his fears. “At least our cavalry would be concentrated and ready to act. And Boney is still in Paris, so
our
spies say.”

Shortly thereafter, Jack and Beckett rode out of Brussels together and spent the day drilling his brigade. He had already planned the drill, so he was not deliberately avoiding Elizabeth. But he was glad of the excuse to be many miles from her after her discovery about Liddicott. If only he had never seen Bella in London! If only he’d told Elizabeth the truth...but, no, she could not have borne it. And
he
couldn’t bear to speak of it. The more he grew to love Elizabeth, the more the memory of that night made him burn with shame.

He’d seethed with resentment then against Giles for maneuvering him into marrying a grave, plain nobody of a wife. When he’d encountered Bella, he’d been as ready to use her as she could be to have him. Their coupling had been an act of defiance, a way for him to assert that marriage wouldn’t change him, that an unconsummated marriage to a woman he barely knew and didn’t want didn’t truly
count.
He’d been half-ashamed even then, aware he was acting more like a petulant schoolboy than a gentleman, but it hadn’t been enough to stop him.

Once he’d confessed most of his sins and Elizabeth had forgiven him, he’d managed to almost forget. He was in love with his wife, she loved him, and the world was a new and delightful place. But now Liddicott reminded him of what he had been and how little he deserved his present happiness.

He managed to stretch the drill into a full inspection, followed by repairing with the higher-ranking officers of his brigade to an inn that a major of the Seventy-Ninth assured him served the best beer he had drunk since arriving in Belgium. Over a dinner washed down with a great quantity of said beer, which was as delicious as advertised, he pumped the others for stories of the Peninsula and repaid them with tales of Canada and Tecumseh and fighting Americans.

“You know, sir,” said a drunken major of the Ninety-Fifth as he held Menelaus’s head while Jack mounted to ride back to Brussels in the twilight. “I wasn’t sure about you, at first. Not one of ours, spent all that time in Canada fighting Jonathans instead of Frogs. We weren’t sure. None of us. But you’re good. You’ll do.”

Jack smiled down at him as he carefully gathered the reins. He was just drunk enough to know he wasn’t sober. He’d let the horse take him home at his own pace, no galloping. Clever horse, Menelaus was. “You’re good, too, Major Matheson. Best damn brigade in the whole damn army, we are.” He lifted his hat, then set it carefully back on his head. Wouldn’t do to drop his hat, not at all. He clucked his tongue. “Home, Menelaus.” With Beckett trailing behind, he made his way back to Brussels at a careful walk.

* * *

“How much did you drink last night?”

Jack rubbed his aching forehead and blinked at his wife, who was already dressed for the cavalry review in a handsome green riding habit. “Too much,” he replied.

“So I thought. You snore more when you’re drunk.”

He made a face at her as he shrugged into his red coat. “I’m glad I stayed to dine with my officers. I think they’re beginning to trust me now.”

“Because you’ve been drunk with them. Men!”

“We’re beasts,” he agreed. It was even truer than she could know.

“Undoubtedly, but some of you are beasts with lovely plumage, and we should be on our way if we don’t want to miss the review.”

“Ah, I see. You’re only eager to go so you can admire men in uniform.”

“The man in uniform I admire most is right here in this room, even if he’s as cross as an old bear when he drinks too much. But I believe the effect of thousands of you, and all on horseback, might be particularly exciting. And also, most of my friends will be there.”

“You’ve no idea how happy it makes me to see you so happy here, and surrounded by friends. You deserve this. You should’ve had it years ago.”

She smiled, and the open affection in her eyes almost pained him. “But I wouldn’t have known how to appreciate it then. I’m well content with my lot, my dear. Exactly as it is.”

They rode together to the review in Ninove, and all through the long, sunny afternoon Jack’s chief pleasure was in watching his wife’s pleasure as she, together with a little knot of other officers’ wives, talked and laughed together, open in their admiration of the gleaming ranks of cavalry and horse artillery.

They had not been invited to Lord Uxbridge’s dinner for a hundred or so carefully selected guests, so they were back in their own quarters before dark. For once, they had no ball or dinner or party to attend, and the Langs were out dining with some of the officers of his regiment.

“Alone at last,” Elizabeth said lightly as they sat down to a simple dinner.

“Indeed. I’m glad you had such an enjoyable day, my dear.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Why this sudden concern over my enjoyment? You know I’m happy—happy with you, and happy here. What’s wrong? Do you have secret orders to march for France soon? I swear I won’t let a word slip if you tell me.”

“No, it’s not that. Wellington hasn’t confided in me, but the end of June is the earliest date I’ve heard anyone speculate upon. The Austrians and the Russians aren’t ready yet.”

“Ah.” She fiddled with her food. “It’s this business with Mr. Liddicott, isn’t it?”

He bit his lip. “A little,” he confessed. “His presence reminds me how little I deserve you.”

She huffed out an exasperated breath, pushed her chair back and stood. “You’re being absurd. I forgive you. I always knew it was possible that I’d run across some piece of your past. I thought it would be in Canada, not here, but still, I knew. It doesn’t matter now. I forgave you months ago. And I don’t want you lost in woe about how little you deserve me, especially if it keeps you out of my bed!”

All he could do was stare at her. “Oh.”

A doubting expression flitted across her face. “Unless you’ve decided you don’t want to be there anymore.”

“God, no! Never that.”

“Good.” She crossed to the door and beckoned to him. “Then come with me.”

If he was ever going to tell her the truth, he ought to do it now. He could say he hadn’t quite told her everything, that he’d been ashamed. She might even forgive him, since she wanted a lover and not a penitent.

No, why run the risk? It wasn’t as though they were on any kind of terms with Liddicott. He couldn’t tell Elizabeth anything. And surely the man had nothing but his suspicions. If he knew anything, it would be from the early days with the regiment. Which young officers had sampled Bella’s favors had been an open secret then, and someone might have talked. Jack was the only one here in Brussels, so he’d simply fallen in for all of Liddicott’s ancient anger, and he had nothing to fear.

He shoved his chair back and stood, rubbing his sore leg, and followed his wife upstairs.

“You took your time,” she chided him when he walked into the bedroom.

“My leg was a little stiff from all the riding I’ve done the past few days. I didn’t want it to give us any trouble.” Despite his doubts and fears, he was half hard already. He loved it when Elizabeth was imperious.

“No, indeed. Though I would always be delighted to rub it for you.”

“But you get distracted. You always seem to turn your attention straight to...other stiffnesses.”

“That’s only because they
will
arise whenever my hands are near to them.”

Good God, how he loved her in this mood. He closed his eyes and shuddered.

She let out a throaty chuckle. “Ah, I see that you have missed me as much as I’ve missed you.”

He opened his eyes again and watched, struck dumb and motionless, as she closed the short distance between them. Her eyes never straying from his face, she settled her hand on his cock, gone hard and straining against his tight pantaloons. “Now, this doesn’t feel comfortable for you at all,” she said and reached for his buttons.

Her deft fingers made short work of the buttons and his drawers, and his cock sprang free. She held him with both hands and stroked, slow and gentle, as she studied his face. What was she looking for?

Then a mischievous smile tilted up one corner of her mouth. “I know what you’ll like even better.”

She sank to her knees, and before Jack could protest that she mustn’t kneel to him, that it wasn’t right and he didn’t deserve it, her mouth closed around him and he was lost. When her tongue circled the head of his cock and darted back and forth across its seam, his hand seemed to move of its own volition, tangling into her elaborately braided hair to keep her just where she was. She laughed that self-satisfied little laugh again, and he could feel it vibrate along his length.

Blindly he groped with his other hand for the bedpost. He didn’t trust his legs to keep him upright while she did this to him, not while she leaned in to take him as far as she could go, then pulled back to suck hard on his very tip, her tongue busy all the while, licking and teasing. He could feel himself about to come, about to spend in her mouth, but this wasn’t the time for that. He couldn’t only take.

“Your turn,” he gasped, pulling her head away. “On your back, on the bed.”

He’d never seen a more beautiful sight, a more erotic sight than the way she looked at him, heavy-lidded, her lips wet and red, her glossy, silky hair slipping out of its careful coiffure. He gave her his hand to help her stand, then pushed her toward the bed.

With a little moan, she sprawled back onto the mattress. He dragged her skirts up to her waist to bare her sex. Before he could ask for it she bent her knees and spread her legs apart, digging her still-stockinged heels into the mattress for purchase.

It was his turn to hum low in his throat with satisfaction as he bent over her, spread open her folds with gentle fingers and sucked her clitoris into his mouth. She cried out and bucked against him, but he held her still while he licked and kissed and worked his tongue inside her until she came twice, gasping and moaning. Only then did he join her on the bed and sink his cock inside her.

“I missed you,” she said as he thrust, threading her fingers through his hair.

“So did I.”

“This is better than getting drunk with your officers, isn’t it?”

“Yes. God, yes.” Then he couldn’t talk for a time as he thrust, harder and faster, until at last he spent.