The Earl Claims His Wife (13 page)

And at the same time, love welled in her heart for him. It filled to overflowing.

How could she ever have doubted him?

Slowly, the world came back into focus. Gillian lay in his arms, her body well used and pleasantly exhausted.

The world beyond came back into focus. The smell of leather and horses mixed with that of his shaving soap and their lovemaking. James and George’s muffled voices came through the coach walls.

If they’d overheard any of what happened inside the coach, they gave no indication.

A chill went through the air, cooling her still-fevered skin.

He grabbed his greatcoat and rolled onto the seat so that she was on top, her head in the crook of his arm. He spread the coat over her. His arms banded around her as if he’d never let her go. He kissed the top of her head.

“You are wonderful,” he whispered.

Gillian looked up at him. “I am?”

His gaze met hers. “You are so sweet, so giving.”

“I liked you, too,” she admitted—and he laughed, holding her closer still.

“I have been such a fool,” he murmured. “You are a treasure. My precious, precious wife.”

She liked the sound of that. She prayed he’d say that every day of their lives together. She also wondered if he’d ever said such to Jess.

As if reading her mind, he whispered, “It’s never been like that before…with anyone.” And Gillian grinned with happiness.

Silence stretched between them. She thought about telling him that she loved him. That she’d always loved him from the moment they’d met. But there was a boldness to such a statement. Let him go first.

After he’d said it, she would make her confession. And they would laugh about how long it had taken her to speak her heart, but he would understand.

Right now, she believed he understood everything.

“Liverpool would be a fool not to give you an appointment on his staff,” she said, listening to the beat of his heart in his chest.

“He has no choice but to do so,” Brian agreed. “Look at the beautiful woman I married.”

Gillian lifted her head to see if he was joking. She’d not thought herself a beauty. She was attractive or as Aunt Agatha often said, “handsome enough.” But beautiful? Especially right now? She was certain she appeared a mess.

And then he smiled at her and what she saw in her lover’s eyes made her feel beautiful.

“I’ve hurt you so much in the past, Gillian. I understand that now. I’ve been selfish. I’m trying to change, but—” His voice broke off. “You are a gift. Please trust me, Gillian. Please trust me.”

She came up on one arm to look into his face. “Brian, is something the matter?”

Gently, he brought her head back down to his chest, combing her hair down her back with his fingers. The pins were long gone. She didn’t care.

“Nothing is wrong, Gillian,” he said. “In fact, if anything, all is right. It is as it should be.”

That nagging seed of doubt attempted to unsettle her happiness. Gillian wouldn’t let it. “Tell me about our house in London,” she whispered, wanting to change the subject.

“It’s small,” he said. “There wasn’t much available when I was looking, but it is in a good neighborhood. There are only two bedrooms upstairs and the furniture is not what I would choose.

It came with the lease. We shall buy new. I’ll let you manage that. And we shall need to hire more servants.”

“What servants do you have?”

“Hammond, of course—”

She had to smile at the name of the always-present valet who went everywhere with Brian, even into the military. “I’m surprised he didn’t make this trip with you.”

“He’s overseeing matters at the house for me.”

“Why? Are you doing repairs?” she wondered.

“No,” he was quick to say. “There are just…” He paused, smiled at her. “Concerns he is handling while I’m gone.”

“Are they concerns I should know about?” she asked, curious.

Brian gathered her closer in his arms. “You don’t need to worry about them now.”

Gillian happily snuggled deeper against the warmth of his body. She yawned, feeling drowsy.

“Well, then,” she said, considering the matter. “We will need a housekeeper.”

“I did hire one. Mrs. Vickery. I also hired a cook but her services were unsatisfactory. She’s no longer with us.”

She kissed his shoulder, liking the way he said “us.”

“Well, you needn’t worry about the staff any longer. I can manage all of that. I saw to those details in my parents’ household and, of course, I managed Huntleigh for Holburn. His new wife Fiona didn’t seem too upset with what I’ve done.”

“I knew you would know what to do,” he said. “Everything will be fine now. It will all be perfect.”

Gillian raised her head to look up at him. “You sound so relieved,” she said, half-teasing. “Have there been problems with the servants?”

“Gillian, I don’t know how to set up a household. It’s decidedly far more difficult than organizing an encampment for three thousand men.”

She laughed, pleased that she would play an important role in his life. “The first guest we must invite once the house is in order is Lord Liverpool. I’ll write my father for an introduction. He knows you, of course—”

Brian nodded.

“—but my father likes you and will be happy to write on your behalf.”

“Your father likes me. Even after you left me?”

“He was furious I did so. I will have to write him when we reach London. He’ll be pleased.”

“That’s good,” Brian whispered. “Very good.” He seemed to savor those thoughts before continuing,

“We shall set ourselves up in society. We’ll go everywhere. Hostesses will clamor for our company, and soon we’ll be the talk of London.”

Gillian laughed. “No one knows me. If you are counting on my name to draw invitations, you may be disappointed.”

“They will want us,” he said with assurance. “My argument with my father has been great fuel for gossips. All it will take is a word in the right places and we shall have invitations pouring in our door from those who would like to see what happens when my parents and I are in the same room.”

“That doesn’t sound comfortable.”

“It will be.” He smiled down at her. “I have no doubt of it. You have the poise to carry anything off, Gillian.”

She prayed he was right. She had a tendency to be a homebody and had never truly felt comfortable amongst the ton. His mother, the marchioness, had been quite disdainful of Gillian’s social skills.

But at that moment, if he’d asked her to walk through fire for him, she would have done it.

Wrapping her arms around his waist, she said, “The size of the house is unimportant to me, Brian.

You know my circumstances growing up were modest. What matters is that our marriage means something to both of us. Whatever we do, let us work together.”

“We will,” he said, and sealed that vow with a kiss that grew heated. Within minutes, they were making love again.

There were other questions Gillian could have asked, but at this moment, they didn’t matter.

And when they were done, when Brian had once more turned her inside out, she didn’t care.

They reached the outskirts of London shortly after two in the afternoon. Gillian and Brian had to finally let go of each other and dress. She didn’t think they looked too bad. Brian helped her with finding her hair pins and redressing her hair.

Before they went further into the city, Brian had them stop for lunch. They shared their basket with the drivers. If James or George had heard any of what was going on in the coach, they didn’t give an indication, and for that, Gillian was thankful.

She had mixed emotions about returning to the city. She preferred the clean air and the open countryside of the country. However, now, she had a purpose for returning to London. She thought about Brian’s prediction that they could become a powerful couple in society and felt ready to face her future. She was a politician’s wife. She’d sat at her parents’ table enough evenings when they had entertained their political friends to know what it entailed…and she wasn’t frightened of it. Not any longer. Her goal was to help her husband in any way possible. Her fears and doubts were secondary.

The coach headed into an older part of the city. Brian leaned out the window, directing James’s driving. “We are almost there,” he told her, his voice surprisingly subdued.

The neighborhood was respectable but not the best area for a man with Brian’s aspirations. Gillian decided she would find a new house for them once he had secured a position with Liverpool.

They turned onto a charming street with a small park in the center of the circle. Gillian waited, excited about her new home.

“This is it,” Brian shouted up to James, and Gillian had to sit back for a moment before she trusted herself to speak.

The row house they’d stopped in front of was the last one she would have chosen. It was of a drab brown stone with black shutters and a light blue door desperately in need of painting.

Brian helped Gillian out of the coach. He seemed anxious for her opinion…which she thought best to withhold for a moment.

Giving the house a critical eye, she noticed a cracked pane in one of the windows above the door.

Even the simple things, such as sweeping off the front walk, had not been done.

She wondered what the new housekeeper was thinking. If she’d known the mistress of the house would be showing up any day, everything would be in order, even down to polishing the brass on the knocker.

Nor could she understand Hammond letting such details slide. The fastidious valet usually had his nose in every matter that involved Brian. Or so it had seemed years ago. Perhaps war had changed Hammond, too?

While George and James saw to her luggage, Brian took her hand. “Welcome to your new home, my lady.”

Immediately, Gillian was ashamed of her critical assessment.

Brian looked to the servants. “There is a stable around the corner where I have an account. You can take the horses and vehicle there.”

From the top of the coach, James said, “If it is as well with you and Lady Wright, my lord, we’ll be driving back. Harris’s wedding is on the morrow and we’d like to be there.”

Harris was the head gardener at Huntleigh. In all the rush and surprise of seeing her husband, Gillian had forgotten the young man was marrying on the morrow.

“Please give him my good wishes,” she said.

James nodded. “That we will, my lady.”

She turned to her husband. “Shall we?” she asked.

But Brian didn’t move. Instead, he said in a low voice, “Don’t forget your promise to trust me, Gillian.

Things aren’t always as we’d like them to be but I’m working to make them right.”

“I do trust you,” she said quietly…while old suspicions reared their ugly heads. A baby cried in the distance and it added to her sense of disquiet.

“Right then,” Brian said and led her to the front door. James and George followed with her trunk and valise.

The muffled sound of the baby crying was stronger here.

Brian opened the door.

The crying—no, shrieking—grew louder.

Gillian stepped inside. The foyer was the size of a stamp with a staircase and narrow hallway off of it.

There was a sitting room to her right and a dining room to her left. The drapes in both rooms were still closed, making them seem dark and the sparse furnishings shabby in the hazy light.

The baby’s crying came from up the stairs.

Gillian knew there was a question she had to ask.

But before she could, Hammond came charging down the stairs so quickly she stepped back out of fear he would run right over her and almost tripped over a valise that someone had set there.

Hammond was without his customary wig and his sparse hair flew out in every direction. He hadn’t shaved and deep, dark circles swooped low under his eyes.

And in his arms was a red-faced, squalling baby with a head full of dark hair.

Hammond shoved the child unceremoniously toward Brian. “I can’t take it any longer, my lord. I’ve had enough. My bags are packed and ready right here by the door. I shall not ask for references.”

“But where is the wet nurse?” Brian asked, awkwardly holding the baby. “What happened to her?”

“Happened to her?” Hammond repeated incredulously. “What happened is what has happened with every servant you have hired save for that idiotic Mrs. Vickery She quit. Couldn’t calm the child and said she’d had enough of this.” He looked to Gillian and the coachmen. “It makes your ears start to itch after awhile. He never stops, except to sleep and that is only for an hour or two before he starts again. Now excuse me, my lady.” He took his hat and coat from the peg by the door, picked up his valise, and almost fell over James and George in his haste to escape.

So. Now she knew why Wright had been traveling without his valet.

The babe had quit screaming but his little body was doubled with pain. He whimpered and began sucking furiously on his fist. Gillian knew colic when she saw it. This baby must have had a terrible case of it because he was frighteningly thin. Or perhaps something else was wrong.

She’d helped her stepmother with her six babies so she knew a thing or two about them.

Wright knew she knew too.

“Whose baby is it?” she asked, suspecting the answer he gave.

“He’s Jess’s,” Wright said.

For a second, the world seemed to spin around Gillian. Wright had needed her all right…to help with his mistress’s child.

Once again, he’d played her for a fool.

It’s not what you think, Gillian,” Brian insisted quickly.

She appeared ready to faint. He should have told her sooner, but he’d feared she’d not come through the door with him if she knew.

Still, having Anthony dumped unceremoniously in his arms was not how he’d planned introducing her to him either and he could curse Hammond to hell for it.

“James,” Brian ordered, “help her.” As the footman set down his end of the trunk and moved forward, Brian shouldered the squalling baby on his shoulder. Anthony’s belly was tight. His legs kicked with anger. Brian held him close, wishing he could do something, anything to relieve the baby’s obvious pain.