Castles (30 page)

She didn't want his embrace at all, but he was much stronger than she was and much more determined. He was going to soothe her whether she wanted him to or not. When she finally gave in and relaxed against him, he let out a sigh and rubbed his chin against the top of her head. “And you thought something was wrong, didn't you? I should have explained. I'm sorry. You've been worrying for no reason.”

The tenderness in his voice calmed her fear just a little. She still wasn't certain she believed him, though. “Are you telling me I was supposed to bleed?”

She sounded suspicious—and appalled at the very idea. Colin didn't laugh. “Yes,” he announced. “You were supposed to bleed.”

“But that's . . . barbaric.”

He disagreed with that opinion. He told her he found it both pleasing and arousing, and she immediately announced that he was barbaric, too.

Alesandra had lived in a cocoon with the nuns. She'd arrived as a little girl and left as a woman. She hadn't been allowed to talk to anyone about the changes taking place in her body or talk about the feelings those changes evoked, and Colin counted himself blessed because her sensuality hadn't been destroyed or marred. The mother superior might not have wanted to talk about sex, but she hadn't filled Alesandra's head with a lot of frightening nonsense. The nun had elevated the marriage act, too, by using such euphemisms as
temple
and
worship
, and even
noble
and
worthy
, and because of her attitude, Alesandra hadn't believed it was degrading or foul.

His sweet bride was like a butterfly emerging from her isolated shelter. Her own sensuality and her passionate response probably scared the hell out of her.

“I'm fortunate the nuns didn't warp you by planting fears in your head,” he remarked.

“Why would they?” she asked, clearly puzzled. “The wedding vows we took are sacred. It would have been a sin to mock the sacrament.”

Colin was so pleased with her, he hugged her. He apologized again because she had fretted needlessly, and then explained in detail exactly why she was supposed to bleed. He didn't stop there. The mother superior had told Alesandra that a child was the noble and worthy result of the union. Colin explained exactly how conception occurred. He talked about the differences in their bodies while he rubbed her back in a lazy fashion. The spontaneous lecture lasted nearly twenty minutes. She'd been embarrassed when he began his explanation, but his matter-of-fact attitude soon helped her get over her shyness. She was extremely curious about his body and plied him with questions. He answered all of them.

She was vastly relieved when he'd finished. She leaned away from him, thinking to give him her thank you for explaining, but the warm glint in his eyes made her forget what she was about to say. She kissed him instead.

“Did you honestly believe we would never . . .”

She wouldn't let him finish. “I worried we couldn't.”

“I want you now.”

“I'm too tender,” she whispered. “And you did just say it would take a few days to feel better.”

“There are other ways to find fulfillment.”

Her curiosity was pricked. “There are?” she asked in a breathless whisper.

He nodded. “Lots of ways.”

The way he was staring at her made her restless with desire. A warm glow was forming in the pit of her stomach and she suddenly wanted to get a little closer to him. She put her arms around his neck, threaded her fingers through his hair, and smiled at him. “How many ways?”

“Hundreds,” he exaggerated.

The way he was smiling at her told her he was teasing. She responded in kind. “Then I should probably take notes while you explain them to me. I wouldn't want to forget one or two.”

He laughed. “Demonstration is more fun than taking notes.”

“Begging your pardon, milord, but you have a visitor downstairs.”

Alesandra almost jumped off Colin's lap when the sound of Flannaghan's voice reached her. Colin wouldn't let her go. He continued to look at his bride when he spoke to his servant. “Who is it?”

“Sir Richards.”

“Damn.”

“Don't you like him?” asked Alesandra.

Colin let out a sigh. He lifted Alesandra off his lap and stood up. “Sure I like him,” he replied. “The damn was because I know he won't be put off. I'll have to see him. Flannaghan, send him up.”

The butler immediately left to fetch the director. Alesandra turned to leave. Colin grabbed her hand and pulled her back. He put his arms around her, leaned down, and gave her a long kiss. His mouth was hot, wet, demanding, and when he pulled back, she was trembling with desire. Her uninhibited response pleased him. “Later,” he whispered before he let her go.

The dark promise in his eyes left no doubt as to what he was talking about. Alesandra didn't trust her voice yet, so she simply nodded her agreement. She turned and walked out of the study. Her hands shook when she brushed her hair back over her shoulders and she bumped into the wall when she turned to go back down the hallway. She let out a little sigh over her own sorry condition. All the man had to do was look at her and her mind turned into lettuce. One kiss and she wilted in his arms.

It was a fanciful thought, she admitted, yet all too true. Perhaps, once the newness of having a husband had worn off, she would become accustomed to Colin. She certainly hoped so, for she didn't want to spend the rest of her life bumping into walls and walking around in a daze.

She didn't want to ever take him for granted either. That thought made her smile. Colin would never let her become lax. He was a demanding, lustful man, and if last night was any indication, she also had those same qualities.

Alesandra went back into Colin's bedroom and stood by one of the windows looking out. It was a glorious day and all because Colin wanted her. She must have been perfect last night, she thought to herself. It hadn't been idle praise on his part, or he wouldn't have wanted her so soon again today, would he?

Wanting and loving weren't the same. Alesandra understood that truth well enough. She thought of herself as a realist. Yes, Colin had married her because of duty. She couldn't change that fact. She couldn't make him love her either, of course, but she believed that in time his heart would belong to her. She had already become his friend, hadn't she?

It was going to be a good, strong marriage. Both of them had taken a vow in front of God and witnesses to live as husband and wife until death did they part. Colin was too honorable to break his commitment to her, and surely in the years to come he would learn to love her.

She was already falling in love with him. Alesandra immediately shook her head in denial. She wasn't ready to think about her own feelings.

Alesandra's own vulnerability frightened her. Marriage, she decided, was far more complex than she'd ever imagined.

“Princess Alesandra, will I disturb you if I put fresh sheets on the bed?”

She turned and smiled at Flannaghan. “I would be happy to help you.”

He reacted as though she'd just called him a foul word. He looked appalled. She laughed. “I do know how to change sheets, Flannaghan.”

“You've actually . . .”

He was too flabbergasted to continue. She found his behavior puzzling. “Where I lived before I came to England I was fully responsible for my clothes and my bedroom. If I wanted the luxury of clean sheets, I changed them.”

“Who would demand such a thing from a princess?”

“The mother superior,” she answered. “I lived in a convent,” she explained. “And I wasn't given special treatment. I was happy not to be thought of as different.”

Flannaghan nodded. “Now I understand why you're so unspoiled,” he blurted out. “I—I meant that as a compliment,” he added in a stammer.

“Thank you,” she answered.

The butler hurried over to the bed and began to unfold the linens. “I've already put fresh sheets on your bed, Princess. I'll turn the covers down for you directly after dinner.”

His explanation confused her. “Why would you go to the trouble? I thought I would sleep with my husband in his bed.”

Flannaghan didn't notice the worry in her voice. He was busy with his task of tucking the bottom sheet into a perfect corner fold. “Milord told me you would be sleeping in your own room,” he told her.

The half-given explanation confused her even more. She turned around and pretended to look out the window so Flannaghan wouldn't see her expression. She doubted she could keep the hurt from showing in her eyes.

“I see,” she replied for lack of anything better to say. “Did Colin explain why?”

“No,” Flannaghan answered. He straightened up and walked around to the other side of the bed. “In England, most of the husbands and wives sleep in separate quarters. It's just the way it's done here.”

Alesandra started to feel a little better. Then Flannaghan continued with his explanation. “Of course, Colin's brother, Caine, doesn't follow that dictate. Sterns is the marquess's man. He's my uncle, too,” he added with a note of pride in his voice. “He let it slip once that his employer and his wife never sleep apart.”

She was instantly miserable again. Of course Caine and Jade slept in the same bed. They happened to love each other. She wagered the duke and duchess only shared one bedroom, too, for they, too, held great affection for each other.

Alesandra straightened her shoulders. She wasn't going to ask Colin why he didn't want her in his bed. She did have her pride, after all. The man was making it perfectly clear how he felt about their marriage. First he cut his hair and now he was going to make her sleep alone. So be it, she decided. She certainly wasn't going to have hurt feelings. No, of course not. It would be a bother having to share a bed. She didn't need his warmth during the night and she certainly wouldn't miss being held in his arms.

The lies weren't working. Alesandra finally quit trying to make herself feel better. She decided she needed to get busy so her mind would be better occupied.

Flannaghan finished making the bed. She followed him down the hall. The door to the study was closed. Alesandra waited until she was well past the entrance to ask the butler how long she thought Colin would be in conference.

“The director had a stack of papers with him,” Flannaghan said. “I'd wager it will take a good hour before they're finished.”

Flannaghan had miscalculated by several hours. It was well after two that afternoon when he carried the tray of food Cook had prepared up the stairs. He came back down and told Alesandra that the men were still pouring over the documents.

Dreyson was scheduled to call at three, and Alesandra was trying to hurry through the correspondence she and her husband had received that morning. There were over fifty letters of congratulations and almost as many invitations to sort through. Alesandra had divided the papers into stacks, then made lists for each. She gave Flannaghan the stack of invitations to decline while she penned another note to Neil Perry, pleading for him to give her just one hour of his time to discuss his sister.

“I must speak to milord about hiring you both a lady's maid and a full-time secretary,” Flannaghan remarked.

“No,” Alesandra countered. “I don't have need for either, unless you dislike helping me out now and again, Flannaghan, and your employer is busy building his company. He doesn't need the added expense.”

The vehemence in her tone told the butler she would be pricked if he went behind her back. He nodded acceptance. “It is good of you to be so understanding about your husband's financial affairs. We won't be poor for long,” he added with a smile.

They weren't poor now, Alesandra thought to herself. If Colin would take advantage of her own funds, of course, she qualified to herself. “Your employer is very stubborn,” she whispered.

Flannaghan didn't know what had caused that remark. The knocker sounded at the door and he excused himself from the table immediately.

Morgan Atkins walked into the foyer. He spotted Alesandra in the dining room and turned to smile at her. “Congratulations, Princess. I just heard the news of your wedding. I hope you'll be very happy.”

Alesandra started to stand up but Morgan motioned her to stay seated. He explained he was already late for a meeting with Colin and the director.

He really was a charming gentleman. He bowed low before turning to follow Flannaghan up the steps. She watched him until he disappeared from view, then shook her head. Colin had been wrong. Morgan Atkins wasn't the least bit bowlegged.

Another twenty minutes passed before Sir Richards and Morgan came downstairs together. They exchanged pleasantries with Alesandra and took their leave. Dreyson was given entrance just as the director and his new recruit left.

“I'm most alarmed, Princess,” Dreyson announced as soon as he'd finished his greeting. “Is there someplace where we might have a bit of privacy?”

Raymond and Stefan were both standing in the foyer with Flannaghan. The guards always came running whenever a visitor wished entrance. Alesandra didn't believe their protection was necessary any longer, as she was married now and surely out of the general's reach, but she knew both guards would continue to do their duty until they were dismissed. She wasn't going to let them go, however, until she'd found suitable positions for them in London. Raymond and Stefan had let it be known they wanted to stay on in England, and she was determined to find a way to accommodate them. It was the very least she could do for such loyal men.

“Shall we go into the salon?” Alesandra suggested to the agent.