In the Wake of the Wind (24 page)

Aiden’s heart ached anew with that unfamiliar sensation that made him want to draw her to him and hold her, protect her from the harsh world, cherish her, damn it. She was so blasted innocent, her head filled with these idiotic, idealistic notions of predestination. And love. And perfect men on perfect white chargers riding full tilt to carry her off into the sunset.

And the most damnable thing of all was that she inspired a desire in him to do just that. He wanted to cry with frustration because he could never be what she wanted, and he knew better than to let himself get caught up in her dream.

But God, she made it look appealing.

“Aiden? What are you thinking?” she asked, gazing up at him.

“I’m thinking that I’m a bloody fool,” he said roughly, taking her face in his hands, tracing the fine line of her high cheekbones. “If I weren’t, I’d lie through my teeth to you and tell you that I’m that man you were waiting for, that I’ve always loved you, that I just didn’t know it until now. I’d give anything to hand you that fantasy on a silver platter, just to see you happy.” He ran a thumb over her mouth. “And if I were really a scoundrel at heart, I’d also lie through my teeth because I know that way I could take you to bed and make love to you all night long, pretending to be someone I’m not.”

Serafina
lowered her eyes. “But I wouldn’t believe you,” she said, her thick lashes shining with what he suspected were tears. “I don’t believe that man exists, not anymore. He was nothing but a childish dream.”

He tilted her face up to his. “And I’m sorry for that too. I wish to hell I could be him, sweetheart, because you deserve to be happy. I suppose the best I can do is try to not let you down anymore than you already have been.”

Serafina
blinked, her tears spilling over. “Aiden,” she choked. “Don’t. Please don’t take any more responsibility on yourself. You deserve to be happy too, and you won’t be if you’re constantly worrying about disappointing me. Maybe I just needed to grow up, to understand that we can’t always make things be the way we want them.” She ran trembling fingers over her eyes. “The most we can do is accept what life gives us and try to understand the divine reason at work.”

Aiden’s heart twisted painfully in his chest.
“Serafina.
Sweetheart,” he said, taking a shuddering breath, trying desperately to control himself. He wanted her more in that moment than he ever had, wanted to kiss her tears away, to take her to a place where she didn’t care about reason, divine or otherwise. “The way I feel right now, I’m about to lose the little reason I have. I think you might be wise to take yourself up to bed and go to sleep. I’ll come up later.”

Serafina
bowed her head. “I’ve offended you.”

“Oh, God,” he said, on the very edge of doing something outrageous. “Anything but. Get thee gone, woman, or I swear I’ll break every vow I ever made to you. I may not be the man you wanted, but I am a man, and you tempt me sorely to prove it to you.”

That did the trick.
Serafina
stepped hastily away. “Good night then,” she said, bestowing a wobbly smile on him.

“Good night. Sleep well. And for God’s sake don’t fling yourself about in your sleep, or I won’t be held responsible for my actions.”

Serafina
absently let Janie undress her, her mind a million miles away. Even Janie’s chatter didn’t permeate her thoughts, slipping over and around her unnoticed. She answered without even hearing what she was saying, then managed to bid Janie good night. She washed her face and brushed her teeth and slipped under the bedclothes, gazing over at Aiden’s place. It looked empty. For some inexplicable reason she wanted to see his dark head resting on the pillow, to see his face turned toward hers, feel his weight bearing down on the mattress.

She wanted his arms around her. And she didn’t understand that either. For a month she’d been grateful to have him gone. Hadn’t she? For a month she’d been free of his unwelcome attention. But was it so unwelcome? For a full month she’d convinced herself that he had no real place in her life other than being her husband, a man whose happiness she wanted to ensure, even though she didn’t even know whether she liked him.

And yet today he’d turned all of that around. He’d shown her what real longing was by the touch of his mouth on hers, inflaming her senses. And she’d discovered that she did like him after all, that he did have feelings, could be heartbreakingly honest when he wanted to be. He’d shown her sensitivity and caring. And he’d also admired her.

Serafina
had never had anyone admire her before, but she knew she hadn’t mistaken the open appreciation in his eyes when she came down the stairs, so nervous her knees knocked together.

She’d actually felt pretty for the first time in her life, and she almost believed it was true, given the way he’d looked at her all night. It couldn’t just have been her new dress. And he had said the very same just before he’d kissed her, even if he had been trying to have his way. He’d even called her pretty before this, although at the time she’d thought he was trying to make her feel better. She didn’t know anymore. She felt as if she didn’t know anything at all.

Aiden was turning her life upside down, not for the first time, but this time she truly didn’t mind, as alarming as she found the experience.

She stretched her hand out and touched the pillows next to her, imagining his head resting just there, her fingers stroking through his soft, silky hair, moving up to trace the outline of his finely sculptured face. She snatched her hand back, dismayed with the direction of her thoughts.

Everything would be different, her instincts acceptable, if she only loved him as she’d once loved Adam long ago in a fairy tale…

She slowly drifted off into sleep, images floating into her mind, then dissolving again, reforming. Aiden, laughing with her at some joke, taking her hand in his. Aiden, stroking her hair, then picking her up and carrying her to the big bed in his room, nuzzling his warm mouth into her neck, whispering words of love against her hair as his hands lifted her nightdress over her head and returned to her flesh, sliding over her waist, smoothing up to the swell of her breasts, shaping them in his palms as he took her mouth in a deep kiss, his tongue tangling with hers, something remembered from somewhere else.

She trembled under his touch, strained upwards as his head bent down and took her nipple in his mouth, gently tugging, one hand skimming down over her thigh, stroking up again as her arms embraced him tightly, pulling him close, even closer as he drove her into a state of impassioned longing. So near now, so near to knowing…

Serafina
shivered, turning over on her side, her hand reaching out for him, but he wasn’t there. She only met space, cold, empty space. A surge of loss jolted through her and her eyes flew open, seeking him through the dark. She didn’t know where he’d gone or why.

And then she heard a soft rustle somewhere in the room and she raised her head, hazily focusing through the soft moonlight filtering into the room. He was there after all, his tall, powerful figure silhouetted against the window, his hands stretched out on either side of it as he stared out into the dark.

Aiden. Aiden had finally come to bed. And she’d dreamed the entire encounter. But how? How could she possibly have dreamed something she’d never experienced? It had felt so real, so right.

She sat up abruptly, the last fragments of dream fading away, but her body trembled with remembered longing.

“Aiden,” she murmured, rubbing her hands over her eyes.

“Who else?” he said, turning from the windowsill, dropping his hands. He wore nothing but a nightshirt, the fine linen covering him to his knees.

“Where have you been?” she asked, stifling a yawn against her palm, but she couldn’t help the surge of desire that ran through her at the sight of his nearly unclothed body.

“Out. Walking,” he said shortly.

“Walking? At this hour? Why?” She peered through the dark, trying to decipher his expression with no success.

“Why do you think? Go back to sleep,
Serafina.”

He spoke in a harsh tone, and a stab of hurt pierced through her heart as she realized that she’d somehow unwittingly upset him. “Aiden?” she asked uncertainly, her eyes finally adjusting to the dim light. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I didn’t mean to wake you.” He moved over to the bed and pulled the covers back, his weight shifting the mattress as he lay down and pulled them back over him. He turned away from her onto his side.

Serafina
cupped her cheek in her hand, gazing at his broad back, longing to run her hands over it as she had in her dream. “You look troubled. Can I help?”

“Help?” he said with a short laugh. “Oh, I imagine you could, but you’ve tied my hands fairly effectively, haven’t you?”

“Oh,” she said, finally understanding. “I—I’m sorry.” She felt stupid and selfish for having created an impossible situation between them.

“No need to be sorry,” he murmured. “My fault entirely for being the damned fool I was talking about earlier. Please, sweetheart, go to sleep.”

“Aiden?” she persisted, tentatively reaching out a hand and touching his back just as she’d longed to do earlier. His skin burned under her palm, and she snatched her hand back. “I just want you to know that—that I don’t think of you as a black-hearted, unfeeling rogue. Not anymore. You’ve been nothing but generous and understanding to me.”

He rolled over to face her, his eyes glittering at her through the dark. “You think I’m generous and understanding, do you? Then you’re as big a fool as I am. And if you have any sense in your head you’ll leave it there, unless you want to tempt me to take you in my arms here and now and show you the meaning of the word foolish.” He turned onto his back and tightly folded his hands over his chest. “Good night.”

“Good night.”
Serafina
surreptitiously watched him under her lashes until his breathing finally deepened and his hands relaxed.

She propped herself up on her elbow and thought back to her dream, surprised she’d had it at all. It was Adam she’d always dreamt about in that way, not Aiden. Never Aiden. She could only reason that the kiss she and Aiden shared that afternoon had unleashed a torrent of sensuality, and her imagination had just done some creative enhancing.

Really, she considered, looking down at his nicely made hands, it might not be so bad to have Aiden touch her like that. But that was the problem.

She was obviously capable of making up just about anything. If she’d learned anything from her marriage it was that real life bore no resemblance to fantasies. And as much as she’d liked Aiden’s kiss, there was no way of knowing if she’d like what came afterwards, no matter what she’d conjured up. From everything Elspeth had told her, she felt certain it wouldn’t be nice at all.

But she now knew she couldn’t put Aiden off forever, and that frightened her more than anything else.

E
lspeth had just finished concocting a recipe she considered a vast improvement on any she’d formulated before for enhancing the memory of dreams. She was making her final notes in her notebook when a knock came at the door.

“Enter, enter,” she called impatiently, frowning down at her foolscap, trying to decide if it was cinnamon or cardamom that she’d written. “Cinnamon, of course it’s cinnamon,” she muttered, then looked up to see what fool had come to disturb her concentration now.

“Miss?” Janie asked, stepping into the room. “May I have leave to speak with you?”

“What is it girl, what is it?” Elspeth said, scratching her ear with her quill. “I’m frightfully busy.”

“Yes, miss,” Janie said shyly. “But Mr. Tinkerby suggested I speak with you. It’s about her ladyship. And his lordship.” She took an uncertain step forward. “About their bed, miss.”

“Their bed? What’s wrong with their bed?” Elspeth said with distraction. “I’m sure it’s perfectly adequate.
Serafina
isn’t accustomed to luxury, you know.”

“It’s not that,” Janie said, her brow knotting. “It’s that nothing is happening in it, if you see what I mean. Mr. Tinkerby thought you might have a suggestion.”

“What in the name of the goddess are you going on about, girl? I haven’t all day to listen to your chattering.”

“But Miss Beaton,” Janie said desperately, “they’re not doing anything in it! The sheets are pure as snow every single morning and have been since the day the two of them was married. I asked my mum just to make sure, and she said it wasn’t natural, and I remember from when my last mistress was married, before her husband was taken away that is, and I knew to change the bedding when it was stained. Five days now since his lordship’s been back, and not a thing, even though they’re newly wed.”

Elspeth stared, at a loss for words. “Nothing?” she finally croaked. “Maybe the girl’s having her time,” she said, brightening.

“No, miss. She finished with her courses a week before his lordship returned.”

“Bother,” Elspeth said with annoyance. “And you say the sheets were the same on their wedding night?”

Janie nodded fervently.

“Oh, dear. Dearie me. This won’t do.” Elspeth threw her quill down, ignoring the ink that ran over her notes. “It’s him, of course.
Serafina
knows all about doing her duty. It’s not as if I didn’t instruct her.” She thought hard. “Yes. Hmmm. Must be that resentment about his marriage he still has simmering that’s keeping him away.” She thought some more. “Well, we can take care of that, can’t we just.”

She jumped to her feet. “You say you discussed the matter with Tinkerby?”

“I did, miss. I didn’t know who else to turn to, and with Mr. Tinkerby being his lordship’s valet and all, I thought maybe he knew what the problem was. But he didn’t have a clue, just said I should talk to you.”

“Wise of him,” Elspeth said, nodding. “Every now and then the man shows a glimmer of sense. Well, Janie, although I didn’t expect it, I am prepared for this day.” She marched over to her chest and threw it open, drawing out a precious vial of liquid. “I happened to make this up at Clwydd before the marriage, just in case something unanticipated happened. Forethought is always rewarded, you know.” Elspeth held the vial up to the light and admired the cloudy solution she’d so lovingly labored over.

“What’s that, miss?” Janie asked, one hand going to her throat, her expression wary.

“Nothing you need trouble yourself over. All you need to know is that it will take care of Aubrey’s reluctance fast enough.” She handed Janie the vial. “Don’t tell Tinkerby, for he’s sure to kick up a hiss. You just make sure that five drops of this go into a glass of Aubrey’s wine every night.”

“But—but how, miss? I have nothing to do with his lordship’s wine.” Janie peered at the small glass bottle.

“Oh, that’s right. I can’t exactly give this to Plum, either. I know—dump the entire contents into the decanter Plum puts out in the evening. Surely you can manage to do that when nobody’s about.” She chortled. “A day or two of drinking a glass of this in the evenings and Aubrey will be rearing like a stallion.”

Janie nodded, but she looked doubtful. “Very good, miss. But won’t Lord Delaware be rearing like a stallion too? He drinks from the same decanter as his son,” she pointed out.

“Pshaw. Delaware’s too old and too befuddled to be affected by an aphrodisiac. This sort of thing only acts on the young. You wait and see, you’ll be changing those sheets morning, noon, and night.”

Janie’s round face broke into a broad smile. “Then it must be for the good. I’ve seen the way my lady’s eyes follow his lordship about. She knows what she wants sure enough, and it’ll be mighty pleasing to her when he decides to oblige.”

“Exactly,” Elspeth said. “Hop to, girl, and slip the stuff into the wine before anyone’s the wiser. Shouldn’t taste of anything. Deer antler tips are fortunate in that regard.”

Janie chuckled. “My mum always did say that women knew far better than men about the ways of love. I think you’ve just proved that true, miss.”

“Your mother is a wise woman. But you just keep your trap shut about what we’re up to. We don’t want anyone tumbling onto the truth.”

“No, miss. You can count on me.” Janie scurried out the door and Elspeth settled back into her chair, mightily pleased with herself.

“Bad bird,” Basil scolded loudly as soon as the door had closed. “Bad, bad bird.”

“Oh, hush your beak—it will all work out for the best. I know I’m not supposed to interfere, but the boy’s been stalling in his duty, and that won’t do. He had better realize how he really feels about his wife in no short order, or that Charlotte’s going to work her poison again, mark my words.”

Aiden found his sister in her study off her bedroom, hard at work at the household books.

“Aiden,” she said, looking up in surprise, but her smile was welcoming. “What brings you here? I thought you’d forgotten all about me—I’ve hardly seen you since you’ve been home.”

He kissed her cheek. “I’m sorry about that. I’ve had rather a lot of work to attend to.”

“And here I thought you were busy with your new wife,” she said. “Don’t tell me you’ve been neglecting her too.”

“Actually, I wanted to thank you for the kindness you’ve extended to
Serafina.
I appreciate the effort you’ve made, especially given how you felt about her when she first arrived.”

“Oh, as for that, I thought over what you said and realized you were right.” She closed her accounts. “I was being unchristian in my attitude. Dear
Serafina
might be young and naive, but she’s trying to be a good wife to you.”

Aiden smiled fondly at his sister, relieved that she had come around so easily. “She is trying,” he said, wishing in his heart that
Serafina
would try just a little harder. He was finding it decidedly difficult to keep his end of the bargain, especially being in such close quarters with her. The truth was that he was finding it nearly impossible to keep his hands to himself, especially after the last kiss they’d shared, so full of promise. Sequestering himself seemed the only solution, which was the real reason he’d spent so much time locked in his study.

“That’s all I ask. I only want your happiness, Aiden.”

“And I wish the same for you, Lottie,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I’m delighted that you’re looking in so much better health. The oils really are working, aren’t they?”

“I believe they are,” she said. “Naturally I am deeply grateful to your wife.” She sighed and ran a hand over her forehead. “Now if I could just be rid of these headaches.”

Aiden’s
heart tugged with guilt. He couldn’t imagine how hard it was for her to have to live with constant pain of one kind or another, and he was fully aware that it was all his fault. He wished he had a way to make the accident up to her, and he’d probably spend the rest of his life trying, even though Charlotte never cast blame.

“I thought I’d bring you some good news. By next quarter I can afford to put fifty thousand pounds into the refurbishing of the house. Does that please you?”

Charlotte’s face lit up. “Really? Oh, Aiden, how wonderful! I can spend it as I please?”

“Exactly as you please, although you might want to speak with
Serafina
about anything she might like.”

Charlotte’s smile abruptly faded. “Aiden, dearest, it’s a generous idea, but
Serafina
has always said that she knows nothing about managing a household, let alone decorating one. You don’t want to overburden her or make her feel inadequate to the task, do you? Perhaps you could spare a little extra money for the gardens, for that seems to be her area of interest and I’m sure she would be happy for some help.”

Aiden was touched by her concern for
Serafina.
“Yes, it’s a good idea,” he said softly. “Thank you, Lottie, for thinking of it.”

“Well, there’s poor Father too. He can’t go on struggling away at his age. I worry for his health.”

“Father?” he said, surprised at this new area of concern. “I think he’s enjoying every minute of his work—he looks better than he has in years, and you have to admit, he’s mostly staying away from drink.”

“Nevertheless,” Charlotte said, faint color staining her cheeks, “I don’t think his behavior is seemly. He’s a marquess, not a gardener.”

“And
Serafina
is a countess, but she still makes a very fine gardener, don’t you think?” he retorted, wishing Charlotte wouldn’t put such a fine point on position.

“Your wife was not brought up to be a countess. Father was born to be a marquess, however, and I wish he’d behave like one. What must the servants think, seeing him coming in covered in dirt like one of them?”

“I have no idea,” Aiden said, thinking it was a good thing that Charlotte didn’t know he and their father spent an hour every afternoon in the kitchen playing choir with the staff. He couldn’t imagine what her reaction was going to be in church this Sunday when she discovered what they’d been up to, but he found he didn’t really care. They were all having too much fun. He’d never enjoyed life at Townsend so thoroughly, and he had
Serafina
to thank for bringing them all a breath of fresh air.

“Well, it’s simply not a good influence on them, I can tell you that. I’m already having problems with their attitude—I sense a loss of respect.”

“I wouldn’t worry about the servants, Lottie,” he said, suppressing his frustration. “They appear to be going about their work with lighter hearts, and that’s all to the good.” He ran a knuckle down her cheek. “I have to get back to work. I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Very well, Aiden. But bear in mind what I’ve said. Discipline and dedication to God and one’s duty is the only way to keep a house this size running, and the servants need to be constantly reminded of that.”

Aiden didn’t reply. He couldn’t without telling her he thought she was as far wrong as she could be.

Serafina
waited for the staff to take its place for the daily choir practice. They hadn’t lost an ounce of the enthusiasm that had started with rehearsing for Aiden’s homecoming, and she took enormous pleasure not only from teaching them, but also from hearing them hum snatches of songs as they went about their work.

“Right, my lady, what’s it going to be today?” William asked, picking up his hymnal and leafing through the pages.

“Why don’t we wait until everyone is here?” she suggested. “Oh, and William, move behind Alice. You need to listen carefully to the soprano for the next piece of harmony.”

Townsend was changing, slowly but surely, and
Serafina
was well pleased. More and more often the servants came to her with their troubles and their questions, and whenever she could help or dispense personal advice she did, although she remained careful not to interfere with Charlotte’s orders in any way.

Aiden came in at the last moment and took up his position in the rear, his gaze trained on the floor.

She frowned with concern. Aiden hadn’t been himself the last few days, jumpy and distracted, and she could barely get five words out him. She wondered if maybe he wasn’t suffering from overwork, for he came to bed long after she retired and rose before her in the morning, spending most of his time locked in his study. He’d even taken his dinner alone there the last two evenings.

He looked tired and strained around the eyes, although whenever she asked if his business dealings were still causing him anxiety he claimed that all was running smoothly. Nevertheless, the only time she saw him for any period of time was at choir practice, and even then he barely looked at her.

Serafina
had discovered to her amazement that Aiden really could sing. He had a beautiful voice—a clear, rich tenor that blended in beautifully with the others. And although at first the staff had been a little nervous around him, they soon became accustomed to his presence and returned to their customary joking and teasing.

Serafina
thought there might be a little too much teasing, a result of spring fever, she decided. Except for Aiden. He didn’t seem to be suffering from spring fever at all. His father on the other hand stood much too close to Mary the chambermaid, looking as if he’d like to pinch her bottom at any minute.
Serafina
couldn’t help the stray thought that she wished Aiden would look at her like that.