In the Wake of the Wind (5 page)

’Yes, I can see that you’ve lived a sheltered life,” Aiden said. “Which makes me wonder, Titania, what you were doing sleeping in the middle of the woods all alone? Waiting for your Oberon perhaps?”

“Oh, do you think my true love is king of the fairies?”

She laughed merrily again, and Aiden’s heart lifted at the sweet, pure melody. She really was like someone from another world, untouched and completely natural, a sleeping princess who only waited to be wakened by a princely kiss. He noticed that she had one very slightly crooked front tooth, which he found rather beguiling.

“I think you must have been waiting for someone,” he said, feeling an absurd stab of envy.

“Not at all,” she said with a shake of her head, and Aiden watched transfixed as her thick shiny hair, the color of chestnuts in the autumn, swung like a curtain of silk over her back. “I was sleepy, so taking a nap seemed the most sensible thing to do.” She yawned. “What time do you suppose it is?”

“Fairy time,” he said foolishly. “Actually, I think it’s about five o’clock. Why?” He was suddenly terribly worried she’d disappear, vanishing into a cloud of silver mist.

“Oh, that’s all right, then,” she said and yawned again, and Aiden caught a glimpse of white teeth and the pink tip of a tongue that curled up in the most entrancing fashion. She belatedly clapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m not expected back for a little while still.”

Aiden exhaled with relief. “Good. I’m not expected anywhere either—at least not until tomorrow morning when I have an appointment with the noose.” He’d never seen eyes grow as wide as hers did then, nor a color change so swiftly from sea foam to the gray of a stormy sky.

“No!” she gasped, her hand creeping to her mouth. “Oh, no—you can’t mean they’re going to
hang
you?”

Tears sprang to her eyes, and Aiden found himself ridiculously touched that she cared; it had been a long time since anyone had bothered.

“But why?” she said, her voice thick with distress. “What have you done?”

He was tempted to weave a dramatic story of a jealous husband and a duel gone wrong just to wring a little more sympathy out of her, but he decided that the truth would sadly have to serve.

He shifted his position to lean back on his elbow. “Oh, I’ve done all sorts of dreadful things in my time, but actually, I was only speaking metaphorically,” he said, pulling up a piece of grass and placing it in his teeth, nibbling on the stem. “The truth of the matter is that I’m about to be married. And if you bring the notion of love into it, I think I might well strangle you.”

She clasped her hands in her lap. “Oh … I see,” she said, lowering her gaze. “Well, you shouldn’t joke about such things as the hangman’s rope. And if that’s how you feel about marriage, I don’t see why you’re being married at all.”

Aiden shrugged. “Because I’ve been coerced into it, Titania, and in a very nasty way. The nastiest way possible.”

She was silent for a long moment. “Did you ravish her?” she finally asked in a low voice.

“Ravish her?” he said indignantly. “I never laid a finger on her—if anyone’s been ravished, it’s me. She knew I was in a bad way financially and she happens to have more money than Croesus. So she set up a situation to ensnare me, bloody little schemer, and I have no way out.”

“But surely you don’t have to go through with the marriage, do you, not if the idea is so repugnant to you?”

Aiden threw away the piece of grass in disgust. “Yes, I’m afraid I do. I gave my word to my family, and that’s that. So I’m to be tied to a harridan—an ugly harridan on top of it—for the rest of my days.” He dug his fingertips into the earth as if he could ground himself against the fresh rush of anger that surged through him. “As God is my witness, I’ll do my duty, but I’ll despise the witch until the last minute she draws breath. And believe me, that can’t be soon enough.”

“Oh, dear,” she said, looking infinitely sad for him. “You don’t have a prayer for happiness you know, not with that attitude. Can’t you think of your marriage as a challenge, perhaps, an avenue through which to grow to love your wife?”

Aiden shot her an ironic glance. “My God, you’re even more innocent than I first thought,” he said, reaching out a hand and stroking the outside of her arm with one finger.

To his delight she didn’t pull away. “I don’t see what innocence has to do with anything,” she said. “Surely you could try to love her just a little?”

“I’m afraid that there’s no hope for peaceful coexistence, never mind love, from a union based on duress.” He dropped his hand and sighed. “The best I have to hope for is to live my own life independent of hers as much as possible. I’ll get the obligatory heir on her, then establish a string of mistresses and hope they provide me with a little oblivion.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Have I shocked you to your core?”

“Shocked me? No, not really. But I can’t imagine what it would be like to live in a loveless marriage. Perhaps I’m just a simple person, and I don’t understand these things.” She looked up then, her expression sweetly fierce. “At least I will have love when I marry, and there will be trust and honesty between my husband and myself. And when we bring our children into this world they will be born from that.”

“I think I begin to see,” he said, rubbing the side of his nose, unaccountably disappointed that she was to be married, and relieved at the same time that she wasn’t heading into ruin at the hands of an unprincipled rake. “Those questions you were asking earlier—they are in anticipation of a wedding, is that it?”

“Yes,” she said. “A wonderful wedding that I look forward to with all my heart, unlike yourself.”

Aiden shook his head with a wry smile. “And I suppose his name is Prince Charming?” he asked with a soft chuckle.

Her eyes flashed up to his, the green sparking like phosphorescence in a moonlit sea. “I think you’re very unkind to mock me. I happen to believe in true love.”

“And I hope for your sake that you manage to hang on to that fairy tale. It would be a terrible thing to have it shattered by the reality of a houseful of crying children and a husband who beats you when he comes home tired and drunk and disappointed with life.”

She colored angrily, a lovely pink shade like the tinge of the inside of a Caribbean seashell, and Aiden wanted nothing more but to put his hand out and stroke her cheek just on that spot.

“That will never happen,” she said adamantly. “And it’s unfortunate that you regard all marriages in the same light as your own. I’m beginning to think you’re entirely unfeeling.”

“A rogue to be sure,” he said, unexpectedly hurt that she would draw that conclusion. “One can’t afford inconveniences such as feelings.”

“Then you really don’t believe in love at all,” she said, chewing on her bottom lip, her brow drawn together.

“I’m afraid not,” he answered. “I’m a pragmatist, Titania. Unlike yourself I’ve been out in the world, and I learned very quickly that the best way to survive was on one’s wits, not on a pocketful of dreams.”

“That may be,” she said softly. “But a life without hopes and dreams, without someone to love and to love you in return sounds very empty.”

He smiled. “But then I’ll never have my heart broken, will I?”

“Maybe it would do you some good,” she said tartly. “Just to prove to yourself that you do have a heart after all.”

He covered his chest with one hand and looked down in concentration. “Sorry,” he said, looking back at her after a moment. “Not a single beat to be felt.”

She laughed, and he was pleased to see the smile back on her face. “You are impossible,” she said.

“Another prerequisite for a rogue,” he replied, matching her smile.

She stood then, surprisingly tall and so slender that he knew he could span her waist with his hands. And wanted to. But he managed to keep his hands to himself as he rose to face her. The top of her head came to his shoulder, and he looked down at her. “Are you going now?” he asked, infinitely sorry at the prospect.

“Yes, I must leave,” she said. “I truly am sorry for your predicament, and even sorrier that you hold such a pessimistic attitude. But as foolish as it sounds, I wish you all happiness despite it.” She held out her hand, her palm sideways as if she were a man.

He took it gently and turned it over, feeling the fragility of her bones, yet the strength in her grip as her fingers clasped his. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “It’s a hopeless wish at best, but appreciated.”

And then, in one of the more misguided moments of his life, he pulled her to him and kissed her exactly as he’d wanted to from the moment he’d first looked into her eyes.

She didn’t pull away at first, probably from sheer surprise, and he had the satisfaction of feeling her parted lips soft and sweet under his, her breath mingling with his own, her mouth warm and receptive before she came to her senses and wrenched herself out of his grip.

“You really
are
a rogue,” she said furiously, rubbing her hand over her mouth as if she could wipe away his touch. “I’m beginning to think you deserve everything coming to you.” Her entire body trembled with indignation.

“I’m sorry,” he said, not really meaning it. That kiss, as brief as it had been, was the sweetest he’d ever experienced. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Oh yes, you did,” she said, her eyes sparking with anger. “It didn’t happen just by accident, did it? And if you ever try such a thing again, I—I’ll have my husband call you out, and you’ll be very sorry.” She picked up her shoes and stockings and marched off, her head held high, her back straight.

Aiden watched her disappear into the forest, her stride long and graceful, putting him in mind of an enraged nymph. An inexplicable longing burned in his chest. He felt as if life itself had just walked out of his grasp.

“S
erafina, what is the matter with you?” Elspeth asked crossly when Serafina failed to answer her the second time in as many minutes. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost, you’re so pale. Nothing happened out there in the forest, did it?” she asked, her eyes suddenly narrowing. She shook out Serafina’s Sunday dress and stood on tiptoe to reach Serafina’s head.

Serafina was saved an immediate answer as the dress fell around her. “I suppose I’m just anxious about arriving,” she said, emerging from the folds.

“And here you were telling me that you couldn’t get to Townsend fast enough. You’re too high-strung for your own good, dearie. I’d better give you a tonic to settle you down or Aubrey’s going to think he’s marrying a rattle.”

“I don’t need a tonic,” Serafina said, adjusting her dress, her fingers shaking. “I just need a little time to prepare myself.”

“Oh, three hours on your own wasn’t enough for you?” Elspeth handed Serafina her good slippers. “Well, I hope at least you managed a little sleep. All right, Tinkerby, you may come out now.”

Tinkerby came away from the other side of the carriage. “Very nice,” he said, looking at Serafina approvingly. “But I think mayhaps you should pinch your cheeks. Nerves are making you pale.”

“There, didn’t I tell you?” Elspeth crowed. “Nerves. Just so, Tinkerby. Sometimes you can be uncommonly clever.” She dug in her bag and brought out a bottle and a spoon. “Open wide, dearie, and it’s no good making a face. A little valerian root is just what you need. Very calming.”

Serafina suffered the tonic, wishing nothing more than to be left alone. She’d rarely felt so shaken. She climbed into the carriage and stared out the window, trying to concentrate on her upcoming meeting with Aiden.

But she couldn’t get the kiss or the man who’d bestowed it on her off her mind. When she’d come suddenly awake and seen him kneeling in front of her she truly thought she still must be dreaming. And yet he was far more real than any dream, so solid, all flesh and blood and magnificently shaped muscle and bone and height and breadth.

She felt horribly ashamed of herself. It was bad enough that she’d thought him beautiful, bad enough that she’d actually enjoyed his company. But that she had sunk so low as to enjoy his kiss—that was the worst, most appalling thing of all.

He was lucky she hadn’t slapped him senseless, she thought rebelliously. She ought to have done. It would have given her immense satisfaction to see her handprint on his lean cheek, proper payment for having caught her by surprise and taken his advantage.

He was probably a master at seduction—he’d practically said so. She’d certainly unwittingly succumbed to his charms, not even knowing she was being seduced, silly girl that she was. In her own defense she hadn’t been around men other than the vicar and Tinkerby in a very long time, so how was she to know how they went about such things?

This man had seemed perfectly pleasant, perfectly safe, not inclined to do anything dangerous or unsettling. He had even been helpfully informative, telling her everything she wished to know in a most satisfactory manner, confirming her highest hopes. He’d made lovemaking sound glorious, a true joining of heart and body, and it really had been most obliging of him to offer the information simply because she’d asked, and in such a straightforward fashion.

It was such a relief to finally know, and she would have been grateful to him if he just hadn’t grabbed her at the last moment and—and kissed her like that.

But oh, how she had felt when the rogue’s mouth had come down on hers, his fingers pressing lightly behind her ears, his body hard and strong against hers, the rapid beating of his heart matching the sudden pounding of her own. For one split second she’d been lost, ready to throw away everything, even her impending marriage, just to have more of him.

Abandonment was a sensation she’d never felt before, not even while dreaming. Dreams and reality were two entirely different things she’d just discovered, as different from remembering a beautiful song as to actually singing one. For a moment she’d felt as if the Dream had never existed, as if it were no more than a gossamer thread that had bound her hopes together for so long, something insubstantial, insignificant in the face of a real mouth on hers, a real body pressed against her own.

Serafina stared out the window, unable to enjoy the scenery, knowing she’d unwittingly betrayed the man she was about to marry. She tried to pull the Dream into her mind, tried to remember Aiden’s face, the look of love on it, but she couldn’t bring the image into focus. Instead, all that met her inward gaze was the rogue’s glossy black hair, his brilliant blue eyes, the dark eyebrows slanted like a satyr’s above them.

Oh, how appropriate, she thought angrily, wondering if satyrs also had such broad shoulders and sculpted cheekbones, such full, beautifully shaped mouths that knew how to touch in that tantalizing fashion.

Serafina put her head in her arms and shuddered in self-loathing. Eleven years of waiting for Aiden, never mind a number of lifetimes, all spoiled by thirty minutes in a forest with a complete stranger.

Townsend’s front door was the most enormous door Serafina had ever seen. The sound of the knocker still echoed hollowly in her ear. “Oh, Auntie,” she whispered, “I think I’m suddenly afraid.” Her future lay behind that door, and she had no idea of what to expect now that she was actually faced with it.

“Nonsense, child,” Elspeth said. “There’s nothing to fear. Isn’t this what we’ve planned for all this time?”

Serafina nodded and swallowed hard. “I know I’m being foolish.”

“More valerian root for you, dearie,” Elspeth said, patting her arm as the door creaked open. “Miss Elspeth Beaton and Miss Serafina Segrave to see Lord Aubrey,” Elspeth intoned to the startled butler as if she were the queen of England herself.

The next thing she knew, Serafina found herself swept across a huge marble hallway in Elspeth’s wake, led into a drawing room, and announced by the butler, who promptly disappeared.

She looked around nervously as if she might find Aiden hiding in a corner, but there was no one to be seen other than a beautiful blond woman who sat in a chair near one of the long windows, a rug over her lap, her dark blue dress high necked and long sleeved.

Her hands jerked in her lap as if she’d been taken by surprise, and the embroidery frame she was holding tumbled from them and fell to the floor. “Good evening,” she said, ignoring it, her blue eyes fixed on Serafina in an expression Serafina could only interpret as horror.

“Good—good evening,” Serafina stammered miserably, knowing what the woman must be thinking, and feeling uglier than she ever had. “I hope we haven’t come at an inconvenient time…”

“Not at all,” the woman said, quickly hooding her eyes. “I am Lady Charlotte Delaware, Aubrey’s sister. Forgive me for not rising, but I am crippled.”

“Oh—oh, I’m so sorry!” Serafina said, startled. She walked quickly across the room and picked up the embroidery, handing it to Charlotte. “How very distressing for you.”

“‘The bread of adversity, and the waters of affliction,’” Charlotte said coldly. “Isaiah thirty, twenty. Please do not waste your sympathy on the cross that the Good Lord in His wisdom has given me to bear.”

“I beg your pardon,” Serafina said, feeling as if she’d just been slapped. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I do hope we will be the best of friends,” she said, kneeling by the chair and taking one of Charlotte’s hands in her own.

Charlotte pulled her hand away. “That remains to be seen,” she said. “And I am not a lap dog to be petted.”

Stung, Serafina stood, swallowing hard. Lady Charlotte Delaware was obviously displeased with her in the extreme. A cold knot of fear took hold at the thought that her brother might have the same reaction. She stared down at the floor, wanting to drop directly through it.

Elspeth, who had been unusually silent, stepped forward. “Where is Aubrey?” she demanded and Serafina glanced up, wanting to know the very same thing.

Charlotte shifted her gaze past Serafina to Elspeth, and both her eyebrows raised high as she looked Elspeth up and down. “I’m afraid my brother was called away on business at the last minute. He asked me to convey his regrets.”

“Oh, I see,” Serafina said, not sure if she was disappointed or relieved. Her confidence was already badly shaken, and she wasn’t sure if she could bear for Aiden to look at her with the same measure of disgust. “Well, I’m sure his business must be very important.”

“Naturally,” Charlotte said, her voice dripping with frost.

“Then where, may I ask, is Delaware?” Elspeth said, hands planted on her hips. “I find this a very odd greeting for the woman about to become the new countess of Aubrey.”

Serafina wanted to curl up into a ball, since she didn’t think Charlotte needed any reminding of a topic she obviously found distasteful. “Perhaps he has also been called away on business?” she said tactfully.

Charlotte’s chilly gaze returned to Serafina. “Actually, Miss Segrave, my father is in his bedchamber. He is indisposed this evening, as he often is.”

“Oh, how unfortunate,” Serafina said, thinking that the Delaware family seemed to suffer from ill health. She hoped Aiden was not similarly inclined. “I hope he will recover soon. Perhaps we could make him a posset or an unguent. My aunt is very skilled with herbs.”

Charlotte ignored her. “I ordered dinner trays for you both upstairs on the assumption that you would be exhausted from traveling.”

“As it happens, a light supper of cheese, bread, and fruit will suit us perfectly,” Elspeth said with one dismissive nod of her head. “Come along, Serafina, it has been a long day.” She took her firmly by the arm and guided her toward the door. “I am sure a footman will conduct us to our quarters. I expect we will see you, Lady Charlotte, in the morning.”

“I have gone to a great deal of trouble over arranging my brother’s wedding. I am certainly not planning on missing it.” Charlotte bent her head back to her embroidery as if they’d already left the room.

Serafina trailed after her aunt through the Great Hall, her head twisting and turning in every direction as she took in the specifics of her new home. The exterior had been imposing enough, the great house standing on a terrace above a river, surrounded by gardens, woodlands bordering vast lawns on both sides of the drive.

The house itself, a huge square structure of yellow stone fronted by long rectangular windows on all three stories, was magnificent, but Serafina’s gaze had automatically fallen on the gardens, which obviously at one time had been carefully tended, but now struck her as unkempt.

Great stretches of daffodils and narcissus ran over the lawns, a beautiful display of yellow and white that needed no care, yet the lawns themselves, save for a small stretch in front of the house, were unmown.

Well, she was happy enough to see to the care of the lawns and gardens herself. It would give her something to do, and she was used to outdoor work. The interior of the house presented a complete contrast, however. Adorned with beautiful antiques, it reflected loving attention to every detail. The furniture glistened with constant applications of beeswax, the marble floors shone with constant scrubbing, every portrait, and there were hundreds adorning nearly every inch of wall, hung precisely straight.

And yet there was a subtle air of shabbiness that Serafina couldn’t put her finger on, other than that draperies hung frayed, the silk shredding from the touch of the sun, and rugs appeared worn.

She frowned as she followed her aunt up the imposing central staircase. Even the footman who led them up looked correct but beaten down. He was tired, she decided, as if he had too many duties to perform and not enough time to perform them in. Not that Serafina knew anything about footmen, or at least what she had known about them from Bowhill she’d mostly forgotten, but she did know something about human nature, having worked at her aunt’s side among the villagers and tenants of Clwydd, administering to them when they were ill, encouraging them in times of trouble.

Townsend was embroiled in times of trouble, she was certain of that. But she had no idea what was behind it.

Even the chambermaid who brought up their supper looked exhausted, dark circles under her eyes. She barely spoke; she certainly didn’t smile, even when Serafina politely thanked her. She merely ducked her head, gave a swift curtsy, and fled like a dog who was afraid of being kicked.

“Auntie,” Serafina said, tentatively approaching the subject as soon as she’d finished eating, “do you think there’s something a little odd about Townsend?”

“I can’t think what you mean,” Elspeth answered through a mouthful of apple. “If you’re worried about Aubrey not being here, don’t trouble yourself. It’s perfectly proper for him to keep his distance on the eve of your wedding. He’s obviously respectful of good luck, dearie.” She reached behind her to where Basil sat on the back of her chair and handed him a chunk of fruit.

“Oh,” Serafina said, watching Basil throw it on the floor. It was the first time she’d heard of that particular custom, but she supposed her aunt knew better than she did about these matters. “But what about his sister? She behaved as if she couldn’t be rid of us fast enough.”

“That one’s nurturing a viper in her bosom,” Elspeth said, scowling darkly. “But never mind Charlotte. We’ll deal with her when the time comes. I have other matters to talk to you about, dearie, and it’s time I addressed them.”

“Oh?” Serafina asked, coloring hotly against her will. She had a sinking feeling that she knew what was coming, and after the unsettling events of the afternoon, she could only hope her aunt would divine her blush as simple nerves.

“Now, my dear, normally your mother would be giving you this little talk, but as she’s not here, it is my job to do it in her place. You know, of course, that tomorrow night Aubrey will sleep in your bed with you.”

Serafina turned two shades redder, her ears beginning to bum, not with embarrassment, but with shame. How could she tell her aunt that she’d already had it all explained to her, and that even worse, she knew exactly how it felt to be held in a man’s arms?