Harlequin Historical September 2014 - Bundle 2 of 2: Lord Havelock's List\Saved by the Viking Warrior\The Pirate Hunter (10 page)

‘You'd
really
enjoy doing that?'

‘Yes. Very much.'

‘Good. Told you I wanted you to be happy! And if buying new carpets and wallpaper will do it, then so much the better. Though...' He rubbed his nose with his thumb as though a thought had just struck him. ‘If your taste really runs counter to mine, I might just have to reserve a room or two for myself.'

‘I wouldn't dream of making you uncomfortable anywhere in your own homes,' she protested.

‘You won't,' he said firmly. ‘This will be a very... That is, I've already told you I don't want us to be in each other's pockets all the time. You can go your way and I'll go mine. Within limits.' He frowned. Then shook his head. ‘No, no, never mind. I trust you to set a good example for Julia to follow. You won't go creating any sort of scandal, will you?'

‘I...I don't think I'd know how to,' she said, a little stung by his warning, even though he had retracted it almost at once.

He smiled at her again. A smile so warm and full of approval that she quite forgave his blunt speaking yet again. It was just the way he was and she was going to have to get used to it.

‘So, you have no objection to marrying tomorrow and heading straight down there, then?'

‘What?' She wasn't sure how they'd moved from living separate, but parallel lives, the way she'd heard many
tonnish
people did, to rushing into the wedding itself.

‘Your aunt tried to make some objection about not having time to get a trousseau together, but do you really need one?'

‘N-no, of course not.' She hadn't even thought about it. All that had exercised her mind since the day before had been how to avoid marriage altogether.

He frowned. ‘You do mind. I can tell. Your aunt is right. It is downright selfish of me to deny you all the folderol most brides have. You'll want a new gown at the least, and shoes.'

‘I...I think I could contrive to get something you won't be ashamed to see me in, by tomorrow,' she said.

His face lit up. ‘I'll pay for it, of course. Send whatever bills you run up to me. Well, I think that's all settled, then.'

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper. Having scanned it swiftly, he thrust it back, his face flushing. ‘You wouldn't believe how many things a chap has to remember,' he said, fishing around in another pocket, from which he produced a second list.

‘No wonder most women insist on having several weeks to organise a wedding. Ah. Yes, thought so,' he said, thrusting the list back into his pocket. ‘There is just one more thing I do need to discuss with you, before we tie the knot.'

He cleared his throat.

‘This may be a businesslike arrangement, but it won't be a paper marriage.'

‘I don't follow.'

‘To be blunt, I need an heir. I've thought about this a lot, since...well, since I decided on marriage. And I've come to the conclusion we should get that side of things started straight away. I can tell you're quite a bashful sort of girl and that you might think I ought to give you time to become accustomed to the idea of being married, before I make any demands of that nature. But it's like this...'

He leaned forward and took hold of both her hands in his. ‘At the moment, we both like each other. Don't we?'

When she nodded, shyly, he smiled. ‘Now, the sad fact is marriages can turn sour remarkably quickly. I've seen it time and time again. If we get to the point where we cannot stand even being in the same room as one another...well, let's just say attempting to get an heir in those conditions won't be pleasant. Not for either of us. But at the moment, when we kiss...'

He looked at her mouth. Her lips tingled in remembrance of the kisses they'd shared the day before. And then every other part of her began to tingle, as well.

He was probably right. She'd grown up in a house where husband and wife could barely stand to be in the same room as each other. Whereas now...

Well, it really sounded as though he wouldn't try to suffocate her. He had at least two houses that she knew of. So they needn't ever be cooped up in a cramped little cottage, resenting the very air that each breathed. And they weren't marrying for love, so they couldn't fall out of it and grow bitter and resentful.

But, oh, she did like kissing him. And now that he'd mentioned it, and was looking at her mouth that way, she wanted him to take her in his arms again, the way he'd done yesterday. And...she blushed, and the rest.

As if he knew the direction of her thoughts, he dropped to his knees in front of her, never letting go of her hands, leaned forward and touched his lips to hers. Just lightly.

Her eyes fluttered shut. She gripped his hands tightly. And she leaned forward, too, this time pressing her lips to his.

In a heartbeat, he'd got his arms round her, she'd put her arms round him and each was kissing the other for all they were worth.

‘Mmnhh...stop,' he mumbled, pulling away. ‘We have to stop,' he said, staggering to his feet and backing across the room. ‘Or I won't be able to. You...' He drew in a great, ragged breath.

‘My God,' he said unsteadily. ‘I would never have believed it, but do you know, I'm actually looking forward to my wedding day.'

‘Me, too,' she admitted, stunned. ‘And I wouldn't have believed it, either.'

‘See?' He grinned. ‘We're perfect for each other.'

To her amusement he then sidled round the edge of the room to the door, as though avoiding a dangerous precipice.

As though she was utterly irresistible.

Just for a moment, she almost believed it herself.

Chapter Six

W
edding fever swept through the household. Aunt Pargetter took Mary to a street where there was a whole parade of shops where you could buy clothing ready-made. And not all of it used. And by dint of sitting up well into the night, with as many lamps as they could gather, the four women, working together, had both her gown, and the coat they'd bought to wear over it, altered to fit as though it had been made for her, then trimmings added so that the whole ensemble looked as though it had been designed from the outset instead of bought piecemeal and cobbled together.

She slept surprisingly well considering she was about to take a step she'd once vowed she would never take at all. Even though she'd only met Lord Havelock a matter of days before, the prospect of marrying him didn't fill her with dread. Every time either Dotty or Lotty rolled over, kicking her in the shins in their sleep, it reminded her of their willingness to make room for her when they had so little of it themselves. And she got a warm glow of satisfaction, knowing that she would soon be in a position to help this family, the only ones who'd shown her any compassion when she'd been at her most desperate.

And help Lord Havelock's sister, too.

How many men, she sighed, would make the supreme sacrifice of surrendering their bachelor freedom for the sake of a sister? Not her own brother, that was certain. He'd escaped their unhappy household as soon as he could and never looked back. Oh, he'd visited when on shore leave, but during those brief visits their father had been on his best behaviour and Kit had never once looked beneath the surface....

Not that she had begrudged him his career. Not in the light of how it ended....

She turned on to her side, resting her cheek on the palm of her hand. No point dwelling on the failings of a brother who was no more. Besides, she'd much rather dream about her husband-to-be. She smiled into the darkness as she recalled his insistence they get the business of providing an heir to his estates settled quickly,
before they went off each other
. Some women might have taken his attitude as an insult. She preferred to regard it as eminently practical. And a touch flattering that though he assumed his ardour would cool, he really felt some now. Quite a lot, if that last kiss in the parlour was anything to go by. And the difficulty he had in breaking it off.

Which meant that very soon she would have a baby to hold. Possibly even a couple before he went back to his... Well, a man as energetic and healthy as he was bound to have some arrangement to satisfy
that
form of appetite. Though even when it got to that stage in their marriage, she was not afraid he would become a cruel, or even an indifferent, parent. The lengths to which he was prepared to go for his sister assured her of that.

* * *

The next morning, when she stood before the mirror, she couldn't help exclaim in thanks for the Pargetters' hard work and inventiveness. She'd never looked better dressed.

Oh, if only her mother could see her now. Or her brother...though it wasn't likely he would have been on leave to walk her down the aisle even if his ship hadn't gone down with all hands.

For a moment, stark loneliness had tears welling in her eyes. Resolutely she dashed them away. She didn't want to appear in church with red eyes, as though she was going to the altar like some...sacrificial lamb. Besides, she was gaining a new family today, a husband who didn't seem as though he had the slightest inclination to browbeat and control her, a sister who would need her and eventually children of her very own to love her.

It was with a pale, but determined face that she left the room she'd shared with her cousins and made her way downstairs and to the carriage waiting to carry her, her aunt, uncle and cousins to church.

Her uncle Pargetter had taken leave from his place of work so that he could walk her down the aisle. The gesture should have made her feel less alone, but somehow the fact that she knew him as little as the man who was waiting for her at the altar merely lent the proceedings an air of unreality.

It had all happened so fast. And before she knew it, the vicar declared they were man and wife, and Lord Havelock was bundling her into a carriage, which whisked them off to the Clarendon, where Lord Havelock treated them all to a splendid breakfast.

‘You've landed on your feet and no mistake,' her uncle commented as he shook her hand before leaving. ‘Very open-handed, this new husband of yours.'

‘Yes, and so handsome,' added Aunt Pargetter, giving her a kiss on the cheek. She added a hug to the parting kiss, so that she could whisper into her ear.

‘But please, don't think of this as a permanent parting. You must feel free to come and talk to me, or write, if you have any little problems. Getting used to the married state can be a touch tricky and I know you have no other female relative in whom you can confide.'

She didn't know how her aunt had guessed, but she did feel rather as though she was sailing into uncharted waters without a compass. And also now she'd boarded this ship called matrimony, it wouldn't be possible to return to the shore from which she'd embarked. Her aunt's willingness to give her the benefit of her advice, should she reach troubled waters, made her feel not quite so alone.

She hugged her aunt back, fiercely.

‘Thank you' was all Mary managed to say, with a voice thickened with emotion. She was going to miss them, all the Pargetters. They were good people. They didn't have much, yet they'd been far more generous than closer relations who were far better off.

‘Our rooms are this way,' said Lord Havelock, the moment the last of the Pargetters had exited the hotel and she'd dabbed her eyes dry with a darned handkerchief. He offered her his arm, and she laid her hand on his sleeve.

They mounted the stairs in silence, in the wake of a smartly liveried hotel porter. The man opened a door with a flourish and bowed them into what looked like some wealthy person's best parlour.

‘I took a suite of rooms,' said Lord Havelock once he'd dismissed the porter. ‘I hope they meet with your approval.'

‘In all honesty,' she said, hands clasped to her bosom, ‘I have never seen such a magnificent room in all my life.' The thickness of the carpet alone made her yearn to take off her shoes and stockings so she could sink her toes into it. A fire blazed heartily from an ornate marble fireplace and all the furniture looked as though it had been specially selected to match not only every other piece in the room, but also the wallpaper and curtains.

He had casually mentioned having both a country estate and a town house, as well as his more comfortable bachelor rooms, but it hadn't really struck her, until this moment, what it meant. A man who could afford to buy a marriage licence and get a ceremony organised within a couple of days, splash out for a wedding breakfast in a hotel notorious for the expense of its meals and hire a whole suite of rooms like this, must be very, very wealthy indeed.

In a daze, she let him lead her across the room.

‘This is your bedchamber,' he said, throwing open the door to the right of the fireplace. ‘I did promise that you would always have your own room, a room that nobody could enter without your permission.'

‘You did,' she said, hovering tensely on the threshold, looking in. The room was as tastefully opulent as the sitting room. But what caught her eye, and held her rooted to the spot, was the enormous four-poster bed it contained.

He came to stand very close behind her.

‘I shall be knocking on this door later on,' he said, his breath rushing over the back of her neck and giving her goosebumps in the most remarkable places. ‘I hope very much you will let me in, but if you really don't want me...bothering you in that way, tonight, then of course you only have to say so.'

Well, that was very considerate of him. And perhaps she ought to feel reluctant to welcome him into that bed when she scarcely knew him. Except that the heat of his kisses would keep searing into her mind at the most unlikely moments, making her squirm and melt inside. And she wasn't ever likely to get any less shy of him than she felt now. And they were married. Making a baby was one of the reasons he'd given for marrying her. And it was his right...

‘I won't
demand
my husbandly rights, if that is what is making you blush,' he murmured into her ear. ‘Not until you are ready. Though I do want you. Badly.' He leaned down and brushed a tantalisingly barely there kiss on her neck, just below her ear. ‘And I really do think,' he growled, ‘it would be better to jump this hurdle before too long.'

Was she blushing? She pressed her hands to her cheeks, which did indeed feel as if they were on fire. Because she was ready right now. And rather ashamed that what he was taking for maidenly modesty was a complete inability to know what to do with her reaction to the nearness of his body. The seductive pull of his mouth on her skin...

‘Beg pardon,' he said, stepping away just as she was on the point of turning and flinging her arms round his neck. ‘I'm being a bit too blunt for you. But, look, you may as well know that I'm not a man given to fancy speeches and wrapping things up in metaphors. I hope you will soon get used to me and learn not to take offence, because I won't change.'

There was a touch of belligerence to his voice that made her turn to look warily up into his face. Was he angry with her? He probably thought he had a right to be, having spent so much money, only to have her appear to...shy at the first fence.

He was frowning, but before she could stammer out the confession that he'd got it all wrong, that not only did she agree that it was better to get on with the physical side of their marriage, but was actually rather looking forward to it, he'd turned away, and was striding across the room to a door on the other side of the fireplace.

‘This is my chamber,' he said gruffly, ‘where all my things are stowed.' He whirled round, his frown deepening.

‘Was that luggage I saw, next to your bed, all you have with you?'

She nodded. ‘It's all I have.'

‘All you have?' The frown altered in tone. He came to her and took her hands. ‘We really ought to be spending a few days in town putting that right, but... Look, I'm sorry, I've already made arrangements to travel down to Mayfield and get the place ready for Julia to come. Still, there's bound to be a dressmaker in Corleywood—that's the nearest sizeable town—who can fit you out with some new gear.'

‘I don't mind about clothes,' she said. ‘I know it is more important to ensure Julia's safety.'

His handsome face broke into a grin. ‘I don't know another woman who'd look at it like that.' He lifted her hands to his mouth and kissed them. ‘But you must have some decent things to wear, before the local gentry all turn out to have a look at you. Once word gets out in the neighbourhood that I've married and brought my bride to Mayfield, they'll all be coming to call. And you will want to be able to look 'em in the eye.'

Meaning, she wasn't able to now? In the outfit she'd been so proud of that very morning?

‘Well, that's another thing to add to my list.' He gave her a rueful smile. ‘Every time I think I've got everything organised, something else crops up that I've entirely overlooked.'

‘I'm quite capable of buying my own clothes,' she began indignantly, only to founder on the rock of her completely penniless state.

‘You just get whatever you want and have the dressmakers send the bills to me,' he said. ‘You'll have an allowance, too. That's one of the things... Damn!' He let go of her hands and thrust his fingers through his hair. ‘I've an appointment with my lawyers in...' he glanced at the clock on the mantelshelf ‘...about half an hour's time. I've a deal of stuff to discuss with them, documents to sign and so forth, which couldn't be done until I'd got the marriage lines. I know it's not the thing to leave a bride alone, so soon after the ceremony, but...'

‘I understand.' He'd married her for necessity, not inclination. And if she took offence every time he reminded her of that fact, she was going to end up being badly hurt a dozen times a day. ‘Go. Do what you have to do. I shall be quite content here, in this beautiful room.'

In a way it would be good practice for her. She was going to have to get used to spending large amounts of time on her own while he went off doing whatever it was he spent his days doing.

‘Thank you,' he said, his look of relief being the only indication that, up till that point, he had been concerned about her reaction.

‘I will return as soon as possible, I promise you.' With a heartbreakingly compelling smile, he leaned forward and gave her a peck on the cheek. Then he turned and left her, and she pressed one palm to her face as though to cling on to it, on to him, as long as she could.

For a few moments after the door closed behind him, Mary just stood there, in the stately isolation of the sitting room, marooned on her desert island of Axminster.

But there was no point in moping. Better to keep herself busy. She might as well use the spare time to unpack. Only...they would be setting off for his country estate the next morning, so it hardly seemed worthwhile. She'd only have to pack all over again.

She wandered over to the window, from where she had a good view over Blackheath, if she'd
wanted
to look at it. She shook her head reproachfully over her spurt of pique. Lord Havelock had warned her that he didn't want them to live in each other's pockets and she'd agreed it sounded much better than having a jealous, vengeful sort of husband who'd be breathing down her neck the whole time. She was going to have to cultivate the habit of finding things to do, when she was on her own. And not dwell on what it had made her feel like when he
had
been breathing on her neck, brushing that kiss on it...