Midnight Bride (41 page)

"Never.
They must have your eyes and your smile." She ran her finger around his lips. "And your memory," she added quickly.

"Hmmm. Children.
How many would you like?" he asked as he leaned up on his elbow so that he could look down at her.

"Do you have a choice? I thought they just came," she said. "Some women at the manor had them as often as once a year."

"And grew old before their time.
No, my dear, when that time comes, I will make certain our children are not so close together," he said solemnly.

Elizabeth lay there listening to his heartbeat, her eyes dreamy. "Our children," she said with a sigh. "I wish," she began. Then she sat up, her face excited. "Robert, wouldn't it be wonderful if we had a baby of our very own? Do you think . . .
"

He pulled her down and kissed her, his eyes lit with passion once more. "I think if we want a baby, we should work at it more diligently," he said with a smile as he kissed her neck.

"What kind of practice?" she asked innocently. When he told her, she blushed. Then she reached up to pull him closer.

The crops that year were rich. Barns groaned under the weight of the grain. Apples too were plentiful. As the workers poured onto the land to finish the picking, Elizabeth worked to provide their meals, mostly served outside. Then it was time for the harvest festival.

When the last sheaf was cut and the corn dolly made, the workers followed the last cart into the barn, their tired faces pleased. Then showered with water, they went to the feast that had been prepared. Served at long tables outside, the workers ate the traditional supper of boiled beef and carrots, bread baked in the shape of an ear of wheat, rabbit pie. Dunstan had spent his days with his gun, roaming the fields where the harvest had been going on. As the rabbits ran from the reapers, he had killed them. His grandfather and the other landlords in the area did the same. By the time the day for the harvest supper arrived, every large household in the area had enough for the baking. Washed down by apple cider from their own presses and then by plum pudding, the meal was followed by dances and merriment.

As soon as the meal began and Elizabeth had made certain that there was enough for everyone, Dunstan sent her away. "I have to stay. There are usually fights," he explained. "Tempers have built up during the long hours of work." Already Elizabeth had seen them flare. She watched for a few minutes as the people downed cider, encouraging one another to have more. She nodded and let Dunstan lead her into the house.

"Are they making you
leave
, too?"
Cecile
asked when she joined them. Her usually sunny face wore a frown. "They never let me stay," she complained. "And I like cider and plum pudding."

"Come with me. I saved some just for our supper. Why don't you join me?" She exchanged a look with Dunstan, noting once again the fond look he cast at
Cecile.

"May I? Dunstan, will you tell my grandfather where I am?" she
asked,
her face all smiles again. He nodded and watched them walk away.

"Is being married pleasant?"
Cecile
asked, her face serious.

Elizabeth gulped. "Yes," she said unsteadily. "Why do you ask? Are you planning to marry?"

"No. Not right away. I want a Season or two first. I would have married Dunstan if Grandfather had insisted. But fortunately he married you. You don't mind that our grandfathers tried to make him marry me, do you?" She stopped and looked at Elizabeth. "I think I would make a very bad wife."

"Why?" This time Elizabeth let just a hint of smile cross her lips.

"Because I hate to stay at home, to work inside.
I would far rather be outside on horseback."
Cecile
paused, a worried look on her face. "Do you think that will hurt my chances of having a successful Season?"

"I am certain it will not. Remember to insist that your grandparents take your mare. Although most of your time will be spent going to parties, riding in the park is popular. Oh, you will not be able to enjoy the gallops you have here, but a ride is a good way to visit with friends."

"Just what I had told them. Will you explain it to my grandmother? She will not listen to me. I am so glad you came, Elizabeth,"
Cecile
said, giving her a hug. I did not have to marry Dunstan, and I am going to London!"

For the most part, Elizabeth too was glad she had come. When Dunstan was
beside
her, holding her close, she never had any doubts. The gentry had taken her problem to heart, and although they did not laugh about it as much as the people in Brighton had, they were kind, so kind that Elizabeth relaxed in their presence and discovered that their names came easily.

After the first few weeks of marriage, both Elizabeth and Dunstan established a routine. They would work separately in the morning and ride about the countryside, visit neighbors, or spend time with each other only in the afternoons.

But even that changed. One morning Elizabeth ran down the stairs to join her husband at breakfast. She was the only one there. "Lord Dunstan left a message for you, my lady. He said he will return in a day or so," said the butler, his tone condescending. Of all the servants he alone still disapproved of her.

"Where did he go?"

"I cannot say. Do you wish breakfast, my lady?"

For Elizabeth the day had lost its brightness. She went about her duties as methodically as usual, but when she was
Finished
, she was lost. Picking up one of the latest novels from the Minerva Press, she tried to while away her extra time with some suspense, but the book failed to hold her attention. She picked at her food and snapped at her maid so that by the time Dunstan arrived at home, not only she but everyone was pleased to see him.

"Where did you go?" she asked brightly as she watched him wash the dust away.

"On business."
Dunstan rotated his neck, trying to loosen the stiffness he felt from hours in the saddle. "It is wonderful to be home."

"I was so surprised to find that you had left. We had seen each other less than an hour before, and you did not mention anything about having to make a trip." Elizabeth's tone was petulant.

"I did not know," Dunstan sighed, wishing she would give up questioning him, even indirectly.

"When you go on your next journey, I would like to go with you," she suggested.

"That will not be possible." Dunstan watched Elizabeth's mouth change into a straight line.

"How often will you be gone?" She got up and ran a hand over his bare back, sending shivers of delight down his spine.

"I do not know. Elizabeth, can we change the subject? I am tired. All I want right now is a hot meal and a bath. I've been on horseback for days." He closed his eyes and rotated his neck again.

Elizabeth
flounced across the room, out of charity with her husband of less than four months.

As his absences grew more frequent and his explanations more brief, Elizabeth began to have doubts. Their marriage seemed to be falling into a pattern she had seen all too often. Her husband was still passionate, but it was passion at his convenience.

Most days, however, Elizabeth enjoyed her life. She accepted the fact that Dunstan cared about his family's financial future. She watched for him when he was away and hurried downstairs to welcome him home, to arrange the hot meal and the bath she knew revived him.

One afternoon she saw him ride up after an absence of almost a week. She ran downstairs, but he was not in the hallway. She noticed his hat and whip on the table beside the partially open door of the study and hurried toward the door. She had her hand on the latch, ready to push the door open, when she heard the earl ask, "And where have you been, Robert? You may fool your wife with stories about being gone on business, but I know better. What are you involved in this time?" The conversation, had Elizabeth known it, was really a battle of wits between the earl and his grandson. The older man enjoyed trying to discover what errand Seward had Dunstan running and where he went. But she only heard the words.

Elizabeth took several steps back, away from the door, her heart pounding. All those weeks she had thought she knew her husband, and she had been mistaken. Turning, she raced up the stairs, determined to hide her stricken face from the servants, determined too to avoid her husband until she had her emotions more under control. She choked back a sob.

A short time later Dunstan appeared in their rooms, a peculiar look on his face.
"You were not downstairs to greet me. Are you ill?"

"Dunstan, you are home," she said as warmly as she could force herself to be. "I was involved in this novel and did not realize you had arrived. I am fine." Her smile, though forced, reassured him.

"Hmmm.
It is so wonderful to be home." He embraced her, pulling her tight against him. It was all she could do to keep from going rigid in his arms. That night as she lay beside her sleeping husband, a man too tired to do more than kiss her good night and put an arm around her, she worried.

While Dunstan and Elizabeth enjoyed their seclusion in the country, Charles had returned to town. As he waited for the lawyers to work out the last details of the contract for the manor, he renewed his round of activities with his friends.

"The wanderer returns. Ho, Charles!" one of his friends called as he walked into his club.

"Who is in town?" Charles asked, taking the seat that was offered at the table.

"Bit thin of company yet. Everyone's gone to Brighton," his friend Jonathan added. "Where you been, Charles?"

"Brighton.
I have been dancing attendance on my mother and sister."

"Your mama still trying to marry you off, Charles?"
Jonathan asked. He poured himself another glass of wine and tried to sit up straighter.

"Yes." Charles downed his glass and refilled it. "This summer she concentrated on my sister and was too busy to have time for me."

"Elizabeth? Would never think Lady
Ramsburg
could pull that off.
Must be at least thirty."

"Not thirty. But Mama managed. The wedding was last week. Announcement will be in the papers soon."