Make-Believe Wife (15 page)

‘Yes…' Roxanne moaned as he moved within her, deep and firm, bringing her to such exquisite delight that she writhed and arched beneath him. She moaned and clung to him, her breath soft and sweet as she sighed. ‘So good…so very good.'

‘My sweet, beautiful Roxanne,' Luke murmured against her ear. ‘Such passion and heat. No one has ever made me feel as you do, my darling. You are exquisite, perfect. I want to hold you and make love to you always.'

His words were so tender and loving that Roxanne felt tears of joy on her cheeks as they lay together, entwined, satiated and at peace before they slept. During the night, they woke, loved again, as sweetly and as urgently as before. Roxanne slept deeply, curled into his body, her legs captured and held as he clasped her against him. Her long red hair was spread over the pillows and had entangled itself about him as they loved.

 

When in the morning Luke moved her hair from his face, carefully disentangling himself from her limbs that curled about him, Roxanne did not wake. She was caught up in a dream so sweet that her lips curved in a smile of content.

‘Love you,' she murmured. ‘Always love you…'

Luke knew that she was still sleeping and that she did not know she had spoken. He frowned as he moved carefully about the room, collecting the clothes he needed for riding. He watched Roxanne sleep while he dressed, a look of gravity on his face, then went out, leaving her to rest.

He needed to ride and to think about the future. Roxanne's distress the previous evening had led him into something he had not planned and he was not sure what it meant for the future. In her dreaming state she had spoken of love, but was it real or part of the story she'd invented for herself—and did he want his marriage to be more of a real marriage than he'd intended?

He suddenly felt trapped again. He was being drawn into something that threatened to overturn all he had believed and he could not handle the feelings churning inside him.

He must think about what had happened the previous night and what it meant—and he must question the men he'd had patrolling the grounds. Why had they not seen the intruder and who had been so desperate to find Roxanne's ruby that they had risked breaking into her room when there was a house filled with guests?

 

Roxanne stirred and stretched, a feeling of well being stealing over her as she opened her eyes. What had happened the previous night to make her feel so good? Letting her gaze move about the room, she realised that she was not in her own bed and then the memories came flooding back. Suffused with warmth, she felt herself blush as she recalled how gladly she had surrendered to Luke's loving the previous night. She had gone to his arms like a wanton instead of the gentlewoman she was supposed to be, giving no thought to propriety or the future.

What did that say about her? What kind of a woman was she truly?

Sitting up in bed, she saw her clothes strewn over the floor and recalled the way they had come off with such abandon. Indeed, she'd behaved like a harlot. No well-bred young woman would behave in such a way—and yet she did not regret it. Roxanne knew that she would do it again, because one night of love like that was something she would never forget. Even if Luke did not love her in his heart, he'd made her feel loved and needed, and something deep inside her had responded, had been waiting for him. She'd felt as if her whole life had been waiting for that moment—the moment she became one with him.

Rising, Roxanne picked up her clothes and dressed. It was time she returned to her own room. She was about to do so when the door of Luke's bedchamber opened and a maid entered. She did not seem surprised to find Roxanne there and bobbed a curtsy.

‘Lord Clarendon said to tidy your chamber, Miss Roxanne, and then inform you that you could return. He told us he gave up his room for you last night because of what happened, miss. It must have been such a shock to find it that way.'

‘Yes, it was,' Roxanne replied and glanced towards the bed. The sheets were open, as she'd left them, and she could see some small bloodstains. Her cheeks felt warm as she left the room. Luke had told the servants that she'd slept alone, but the maid would see the evidence of what had taken place here and she could hardly be expected to keep such knowledge to herself. The servants would smile to themselves and whisper that Lord Clarendon had anticipated his wedding night.

It was an embarrassing thought, but there was nothing she could do to change things. She could not go back and act differently, nor did she wish to in her heart. The dice was cast now. She had given herself to Luke body and soul. Roxanne had no intention of drawing back. If Luke did not wish for a loving wife, he would make his feelings known. She loved him, but she was strong enough to let him go when he needed to be free. She would not cling and weep as his mother had to her husband. Perhaps next time Luke came to her bed she would be more prepared and be able to control her feelings, giving herself with less abandon.

Making her way back to her own room, Roxanne wondered where Luke was. At what time had he left her and where had he gone?

Her bedchamber had been put to rights, everything back in its place and the scent of fresh laven
der polish making it seem welcoming and normal. A frown touched her forehead as she remembered her distress the previous evening; it was that distress that had prompted Luke to kiss her and carried them both on a tide of passion.

What must he be thinking of her now? Roxanne knew that she had been abandoned, almost wanton in her passion, and wondered what Luke thought of the bargain he'd made. Was he regretting it? Was that why he'd left without waking her, because her passion had disgusted him—or did he simply want to ride in the early morning, as she knew he often did?

Roxanne washed in the warm water she found waiting for her and dressed in a fresh morning gown. She had brushed her hair into a knot at the back of her head and was about to leave when the door opened and her maid entered.

‘I did not ring, Tilly,' she said. ‘I was able to manage for myself—but if you will take away my soiled things and see to them, please.'

‘Yes, Miss Roxanne.' The girl bobbed a little curtsy. ‘I've washed all the things that were on the floor, miss, because I knew you would wish it. I came to tell you that you're needed in the earl's chambers. Marshall said to tell you that Lord Hartingdon is a little out of sorts this morning. It may have been all the excitement of last night, miss.'

‘Yes, perhaps.' Roxanne looked at her in dismay. ‘Is he just a little tired or unwell?'

‘I'm not sure, miss. Marshall said to ask if you would come at once—and I think the doctor's been sent for.'

‘I see…thank you,' Roxanne said and went hurriedly from the room. If the doctor had been sent for, it was more than just a little tiredness.

Her heart was thudding as she walked along the hall to the earl's chambers. She had become more than a little fond of the elderly gentleman and it would distress her if he were seriously ill. Luke had known that his grandfather was frail; it was for this reason that she had been brought here as Luke's fiancée, but somehow she hadn't expected anything to happen. Indeed, she'd hoped, expected that Hartingdon would go on for some years yet. If he died now…Roxanne shut out the unwelcome thought. She did not wish to think about such a prospect.

Reaching the earl's room, she knocked softly and then entered. His manservant was in the small sitting room, but there was no sign of the earl.

‘How is he?' she asked, her throat catching with emotion. ‘I was told he wished to see me?'

‘His lordship had a bit of a do first thing, miss,' Marshall said. ‘I've persuaded him he should stay in bed and called the doctor just in case. His lordship wanted to see you, miss. He's very fond of you—if you don't mind my saying it.'

‘Not at all.' Roxanne smiled at him. ‘The feeling is mutual. I was most concerned to hear he was unwell. May I see him, please?'

‘Go right in, miss. He might be dozing, but if you sit in the chair I've put ready he'll see you when he wakes.'

‘Yes, of course. Thank you, that was so thoughtful, Marshall.'

‘We're all pleased to have you here, miss. The family and servants both. We've taken you to our hearts, Miss Roxanne.'

She thanked him, her cheeks a little warm. Marshall would never show by gesture or innuendo that he knew she'd spent the night with Luke, but she doubted it was a secret. If her first child was not long in coming, the servants would count the months after the wedding back to the previous night.

The earl was resting as she walked softly into his bedchamber. He was lying back against a pile of pillows, his eyes closed, but as she bent over him to kiss his cheek he opened them and looked up at her.

‘Ah,' he said in a satisfied tone. ‘There you are, girl. You did me proud last night, Roxanne. I was complimented on Luke's happy choice many times. Most of them seem to think I must've arranged the whole business. I didn't contradict 'em. You're either a truly great actress or you were born to be a lady.'

‘Does it matter now, sir?' Roxanne asked. She sat down on the edge of the bed and took his hand. ‘It was a tiring evening for you. I hope you mean to be sensible and keep to your bed for a few days?'

‘You're right, it don't matter where you came from,' he said and sighed. ‘You'll make a good mother for my boy's children and that's what counts. I'm not sure he'll make you a good husband, but you took him on and I think you'll see it through. You won't let me down?'

‘Do I look like a bolter?'

He gave a harsh laugh. ‘It's a while since I heard that expression. Luke's godmother used it when she
was younger. She didn't come to the ball. I was disappointed that she stayed away. Her influence on Luke was always for the good—but I suppose I scared her off with my harsh tongue. I must make it up to her before the wedding. I've mellowed a bit. In the old days I was sharper than a razor.'

‘I'm glad you've mellowed, sir.'

There was a hint of laughter in her voice and his brow lowered. ‘Are you mocking me, miss?'

‘Just a very little, sir. Do you not think it is time that someone did? Perhaps you have taken yourself a little too seriously at times—would you not say so?'

He glared at her, then made a sound between a snort and a guffaw. ‘You're a minx, Roxanne. Think you've got me eating out of your hand, do you? I'm not to be fooled by a few smiles, miss.'

‘Why would I wish to fool you, sir? All I wish for is that we should live together happily as a family. I want to make you happy.'

‘Want to make Luke happy too?' He raised his bushy brows at her. ‘Planning on getting him to settle down to married life—is that it?'

‘I am not sure that would be possible,' Roxanne replied honestly. ‘However, it seems to me that you are very alike, sir. If what you both want is an heir for the family, I shall do my best to oblige.'

‘And what do you get out of it?' The earl's eyes were very bright. He was intent as he waited for her answer.

‘A home and perhaps affection,' Roxanne said. ‘I shall make no demands on you or your grandson, sir—but if things go well I shall have children and perhaps
they will give the unconditional love both you and Luke seem incapable of giving.'

‘Will that satisfy you, girl?'

‘I think it may have to,' Roxanne replied. She saw his eyelids flicker and moved to the chair beside the bed. ‘You should try to rest for a little before the doctor comes, sir.'

‘You're a fine girl, a decent girl,' the earl said. ‘I'm not sure we've been fair to you. This is a selfish family, Roxanne. I think you deserve better.'

He closed his eyes and she saw that he was drifting into sleep. It had been a huge effort for him to attend the ball and he was very tired. She hoped that he was not actually any worse than before. Perhaps all he needed was a little rest.

 

Luke was greeted by the news that the doctor had been called when he returned from riding. He threw his crop and gloves on the sideboard in the hall and took the stairs two at a time. When he entered his grandfather's sitting room, Marshall was just tidying the grate with a small brush. He put a finger to his lips.

‘He's sleeping at the moment, sir. Miss Roxanne has been with him for the past two hours. The doctor came and said he was exhausted. He's not to be upset and he must rest for at least a couple of weeks. Miss Roxanne was reading to him just now, but I think he may have gone off again for a while, because she stopped. Now she's started again. She has a fine reading voice, sir. Your grandfather was chuckling away for a while there.
Reading Shakespeare she was, but in a way I've not heard before.'

‘Thank you.' Luke said. ‘Perhaps you have something you need to do elsewhere? I shall sit with my grandfather for a little now.'

‘Yes, sir. I'll fetch up some brandy and warm water. It helps his lodship to sleep sometimes and the doctor said anything that made him rest was good.'

‘Yes, you do that,' Luke said. He walked to the door of his grandfather's bedchamber and then listened. Roxanne was reading
The Taming of the Shrew
and acting out the parts. He heard his grandfather chuckle and hesitated, hardly liking to intrude on what was clearly an enjoyable companionship.

‘You are a wicked minx, as I said before,' the earl said and laughed. ‘I think you have missed your calling, Roxanne. You are wasted here. You should be on the London stage.'

‘I would much prefer to be here with you and Luke.'

‘I think you mean that,' the earl said. ‘It isn't just an act with you, is it, Roxanne?'

‘No, sir. I am very fond of you and…'

Luke walked in before she could finish. Roxanne was standing at the foot of the bed, a book of Shakespeare's plays in her hand. She was smiling, but when she saw him, her cheeks turned pink and she glanced away from his searching gaze.