Loving the Marquess (14 page)

She closed the wardrobe firmly. She knew she was expected to
call for her maid, who she imagined was waiting somewhere downstairs to help her
out of her gown and into her nightclothes, but she didn’t have quite that much
bravado. Feeling more than a little self-conscious, knowing she was doing this
all wrong, she went back downstairs to the sitting room to wait for Nicholas.

When he entered a short time later, he was surprised to see
her.

“You were tired. I thought you would be in bed already.”

Louisa couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “My short nap on the
drive seems to have renewed my energy.”

And it was true. She was not feeling at all tired at the
moment, though she suspected it would catch up with her soon.

“Perhaps you would like something to drink before retiring?”

She hadn’t noticed the sideboard was now stocked with
bottles of sherry, brandy, and she didn’t know what else. They hadn’t been able
to afford the luxury of having spirits in the house themselves.

“Sherry, please,” she said. Perhaps it would help to ease
her nerves, which were now in full revolt.

Nicholas moved to the sideboard and poured a glass of sherry
for her and brandy for himself. He handed her the glass and raised his own in a
salute.

“To the marquisate,” he said before bringing the glass to
his lips.

She thought it an odd toast, but raised her glass as well,
sipping at a more leisurely rate. She watched in silence as he put down his
glass and walked over to the window. He seemed somehow to be more on edge than
she. How was that possible? Nicholas had a reputation for having been with many
women. Why would he be nervous with her?

When she finished her drink, he walked over to her and took
the glass from her hand. She wasn’t sure what to expect next, but it certainly
was not what followed.

“You should retire,” he said softly.

She marshaled her courage before asking, “Will you be
joining me?”

He shook his head. “We need to talk tomorrow about my
expectations for this marriage.”

She didn’t like the sound of that. She wanted to press the
issue now, but she could see that he wasn’t in the frame of mind for such a
discussion. Besides, fatigue, aided by the sherry she’d drunk, was beginning to
creep over her again.

Confused, more than a little worried about the next day’s
conversation, she bid her new husband an awkward goodnight and went up to her
room. She rang for the maid to help her undress and went to bed alone.

The sheets were a little cold at first, but overwhelmed by
the events of the day, bone-tired from her lack of sleep the night before, she
fell asleep right away. She wasn’t sure how long she slept before she was
jerked awake. The darkness and the feel of the cool bed sheets against her skin
disconcerted her and it took her a moment to remember where she was. She heard
another noise, a scraping sound, and then the bedroom door slammed open. Louisa
covered her mouth to stifle the scream that had almost escaped. In the dark she
could just make out a shadow.

“Nicholas?”

There was a murmur of assent and Louisa sat up in bed.

“Help me,” he said.

Her eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness and she could
see he was gripping the door handle to keep himself upright. She jumped out of
bed and hurried to his side.

“Are you having another episode?”

As soon as the question was out of her mouth she realized
how foolish it sounded. It was obvious he was suffering, again, from whatever
ailment had assailed him that other time. She leaned into him and draped his
free arm around her shoulder.

“You can let go of the door,” she said.

He did so and Louisa struggled to remain upright under his
weight. The position was awkward but she managed to lead him the few steps to
the bed. When they finally reached it, he released her and stumbled onto it.

Louisa placed a hand on his forehead and was shocked to find
him running a fever. How was it possible that he was so ill when he had been
fine only a few hours before? She turned, but he stopped her with a hand on her
arm.

“Don’t leave,” he managed, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’ll be right back,” she said.

She rushed to the washstand and poured some water into the
bowl. Dipping a washcloth into the cool liquid, she wrung out the excess water
and returned to place it on Nicholas’s forehead. He moaned at the contact. She
stood there, uncertain what to do. His eyes snapped open and ensnared her in
their depths.

“Don’t leave… please,” he said before closing his eyes
again.

Louisa looked at the chaise, thinking she could sleep there,
but then swiftly discarded the notion. She and Nicholas were now husband and
wife. There would be nothing wrong with sharing the same bed. She would be able
to get some much needed rest and if he should need her she would be right
there.

Before she could change her mind, she drew the covers over
Nicholas and went around to the other side of the bed. She slipped between the
sheets. This time she lay awake for a long time, listening to her husband’s
steady breathing, before finally falling asleep again.

* * *
* *

Nicholas became aware of the warm body beside him. Louisa.
Unlike other women who saturated themselves with heavy perfumes, her scent was
clean. She was nestled against him, her back to his chest and her bottom snug
against his manhood. His hand snaked around her abdomen, pulling her more
closely against him. Her backside wiggled against him and he groaned.

He placed his mouth on her shoulder and kissed his way to
her neck. She made a small sound of encouragement and he trailed his hand up
her torso, finally cupping her breast through the fabric of her nightgown. He
continued to kiss her throat as he enjoyed the way the weight of her breast
filled his hand. His fingers toyed with her nipple, drawing it into a tight
bud.

“Nicholas,” she breathed softly.

His name on her lips inflamed him. He rolled her onto her
back and stared down at her. Her pale hair spread across the pillow, framing a
face that was flushed from sleep. Her gray eyes had darkened with passion. He
traced the line of her full lower lip with his thumb.

He was supposed to remember something about Louisa, but it
lurked just out of reach. She brought her hands to his shoulders and arched
against him, and he found he didn’t care about whatever it was he was supposed
to remember.

He kissed her then. He knew it was her first time with a man
and that he had to go slowly, but he found the effort more than he could
manage. Her mouth opened under his and he took the opportunity to plunder its
depths. Her response was tentative at first, but it wasn’t long before she was
meeting his kisses with her own impassioned response—long, drugging kisses that
only stoked the fire of his desire higher.

He rolled onto his back and draped her over him, taking
advantage of the position to untie the ribbon at her neckline so he could push
down her nightgown. When her breasts spilled free, he groaned and shifted her
so he could take one rosy tip in his mouth. Louisa inhaled loudly in surprise,
but her hands came to his head and she held him there, arching further into his
mouth. He moved from one breast to the other, pushing her nightgown down
further as he suckled. When it was past her hips, he rolled her onto her back
again and dragged the garment from her body.

His mouth left her breast and quested lower. She gasped when
he stroked one hand up the inside of her thigh and stroked her between her
legs. God, she was already wet. Nicholas fought against the urge to take her
right then.

 When he moved lower, Louisa stiffened with surprise. One
glance was enough to tell him that he had shocked her. Deciding she obviously
wasn’t ready for what he had in mind, he kissed his way back up her body,
stopping long enough to pay homage to her breasts again. They were not overly
large, but neither were they small. The sounds she made as he drew on them
drove him to the edge of sanity. He brought himself up over her completely and
kissed her again, his passion a living thing. She instinctively opened her legs
wider as he reached down to unbutton his breeches. They were married now and he
didn’t have to worry about bearing a child out of wedlock. He had been with
many other women in the past, but at that moment he could not remember any of
their faces. There was only Louisa. He could sate himself within her fully and
didn’t need to worry about pulling out. She had, after all, promised to give
him an heir.

He froze as his hand reached the last button. An heir. Good
God, what was he doing? He couldn’t make love to Louisa and risk conceiving a
child who would eventually develop the same illness that seemed to plague his
family.

Slowly, every fiber of his being protesting, he rolled away
onto his back beside her and threw an arm over his eyes. He struggled to right
his breathing.

She made a sound of protest that echoed his own deep
disappointment. Staying away from Louisa was going to kill him.

She shifted position. Although he didn’t remove his arm, he
knew she was looking at him.

“Nicholas? Are you still not feeling well?”

He laughed bitterly at the question. That was the
understatement of the century. He tried to remember what had happened last
night, but the details were vague. After sharing a drink with Louisa and
sending her off to bed alone he wasn’t sure. A horrifying thought occurred to
him. Was it too late? Had they already made love?

He removed his arm and looked at his wife, who held the
bedclothes clutched to her chest. Her forehead was creased with worry.

“What happened?” he asked. Louisa blushed and he rushed to
elaborate. “What happened last night? Did you and I…”

She shook her head, her embarrassment clear.

“You sent me up to bed.”

He took a steadying breath before continuing.

“Did I join you afterward? I had meant to allow you to
rest.”

Louisa studied him for a moment before replying. “You fell
ill again. You managed to make your way to the room and wake me up.”

So that explained why he was there.

“And you decided to join me?”

“You asked me not to leave,” she said, her voice soft. “And
the bed looked far more comfortable than the chaise.”

He couldn’t fault her for thinking it would be fine with him
if they shared a bed. They were married, after all, and he had never even
hinted to her that he didn’t want that kind of relationship with her.

A corner of his mouth lifted in wry amusement. Who was he
fooling? It was becoming clear to him that he very much wanted a physical
relationship with his wife. He was still hard and knew he had to get away from
her before the intimacy of the situation provoked him into continuing where
they had left off.

It was only then that he realized he was still dressed. If
he had been thinking clearly earlier, he would have realized that nothing of
consequence could have happened between them last night.

Nothing of consequence. Except that she had watched over him
twice now while he was ill. The episodes had never come this close together
before.

“Stay in bed,” Louisa said. “I will get dressed in my old
room.” She frowned before continuing. “Would you like me to have a tray brought
up for you?”

It rankled that she was treating him like an invalid. Given
the alarming frequency with which he collapsed in her presence he could
scarcely blame her, but it rankled nonetheless.

“I’ll join you downstairs shortly,” he said before covering
his eyes with his arm again.

He heard a rustle of movement before she slid out of bed and
went to the wardrobe. He shifted his arm slightly and was disappointed that
she’d donned her nightgown again before leaving the bed. Sunlight streamed
through the window and she was standing within its circle of light, unaware
that the outline of her body was visible through the thin, gauzy material.

Groaning softly, he covered his eyes again and listened for
her departure. He wasn’t sure he was strong enough to stay away from his wife.

* * *
* *

She couldn’t get used to having servants in the cottage.
Only her new lady’s maid and Nicholas’s valet had spent the night, but one of
the kitchen staff from Overlea Manor had arrived early that morning to cook
breakfast and a footman was stationed by the dining room door. After preparing
her plate from a sideboard that had never seen so much food, Louisa dismissed
the footman and sat at the table. It had only been a day, but with all the
changes in the cottage it no longer seemed like home.

She gave herself a mental shake at her sentimentality. The
changes were probably a good thing. She needed to accept that Overlea Manor was
now her home.

She had just poured her tea when Nicholas entered. He
murmured a greeting and went to the sideboard to prepare his own plate. He wouldn’t
appreciate her hovering over him, but she couldn’t keep her eyes from following
his movements in case he should need her assistance.

Her attempts to make conversation during breakfast were met
with monosyllabic responses. She wondered if she’d done something wrong but
quickly discarded the thought. She hadn’t known him long, but she already knew
Nicholas wasn’t the kind of man to display any signs of weakness. The fact that
she had now seen him fall ill twice would bother him more than a little.

She gave up on engaging him in conversation, so was
surprised when he turned to her after clearing his plate.

“The guests who spent the night should be departing after
breakfast. Given how late some will sleep, I think we can avoid most of them if
we depart midafternoon.”

Louisa murmured her agreement and watched as he pushed away
from the table and strode from the room. The feeling she’d had that her husband
was hiding something from her, something other than his illness, had returned
in full force. If she didn’t know better, she’d think Nicholas was
uncomfortable around her.