The Earl's Inconvenient Wife (Regency Collection Book 1) (5 page)

“You don’t seem pleased,” Marion softly commented, a worried tone in her voice.

She sighed and turned away from the mirror.  “You did a wonderful job.  I don’t feel up to seeing him, that’s all.”

“It’s just nerves, my lady.  Truly, there’s nothing to it.  All married ladies go through it.”

Claire knew Marion meant well, but nothing
she could say would ease the sickening knot that tightened in her gut.  This just might be the worst night of her life.

Marion smiled and helped her up from the chair.  As she adjusted the skirt of her gown, she said, “If you wish to speed things up, be undressed when he comes to you.” She stood up and made eye contact with her.  “I’ll bring up some sherry to help ease your nerves.”

“Will that work?”

“Better
than you’d think.  I use it to calm my nerves once in a while.” She walked to the door and opened it.

Claire glanced at the clock on the wall
and took a deep breath.  This was it.  Whether or not she wanted to be in this marriage wasn’t up for debate.  Now it was a matter of fulfilling her duty and giving her husband an heir.

“My lady?”

Bringing her attention back to her maid, she gave a slight nod of resignation and headed out the door.

Chapter Five

N
ate hardly tasted his meal.  The tension in the dining room was so profound he could hardly stand it.  He glanced at Claire who stared at her plate, the food growing colder by the minute.  She poked it with her fork before setting the utensil down and placing her hands in her lap.  She didn’t look at anything but her food.  All the fight that’d been in her earlier had departed, and he honestly didn’t know if he preferred her when she was arguing with him or completely docile.  It was unnerving that a lady could change moods so quickly.

He wondered if he should try to have a conversation with her.  He studied her face, noting the furrowed eyebrows and the way she kept biting her lower lip.  Steeling his resolve, he decided to keep ignoring her and focused on the rest of his meal.  She got herself into this predicament when she trapped him into this marriage.  Now she was going to have to deal with the consequences of her actions.  Perhaps if she’d carefully thought through the ramifications of what she
had planned, she would have sought an earl through honest means.

He dared a look at the servants who waited for him to give the word when he wanted something.  “Are you done?” he asked her.

Her head jerked up, her eyes as wide as a scared fox’s.  He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.  She’d been the one to trap him into a hole that he couldn’t get out of, not the other way around.

“Before I tell
the footman we’re done, do you wish to eat anything else?” he clarified, pointing to her plate still full of food.

She shook her hea
d, and he took that as an indication that she was done so he wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin which had been in his lap.  After he set it on the table, he nodded to the footman who stood behind his chair and eased to his feet.  He waited for his wife to get up, but she remained seated.

Gritting his teeth, he silently counted to ten before asking, “Do you wish to eat something else?”

She refused to make eye contact with him and rubbed her forehead.

Not wishing to involve the servants in their problems, he turned to them.  “When—” he closed his eyes for a moment and forced out—“Lady Roderick—” he relaxed—“is done, see to the table.” Turning back to her, he managed a slight bow and left the room.

He went to his library and poured himself a drink before he went to his chair and stared out the window.  There was no way he could consummate the marriage.  Not tonight.  Not when things were this miserable.  He thought he could go through with it, thinking his sense of duty would strengthen him for the task.  But it was no use.  He had no desire to force the situation.

Perry
told him to make the best of it.  Maybe he was right.  It wasn’t like brooding over the way he’d been trapped was going to change things.  Claire was still his wife, and by law, she’d remain as such until one of them died.  He just needed to spend enough time with her to get the heir, and God willing, she’d have a boy right away so he wouldn’t need to keep going back to her.  And maybe in a few days or weeks, they would reach the point where getting started on an heir would be less awkward.

Perhaps this marriage wouldn’t be much different from what he envisioned his marriage would’ve been like had he married
the Duke of Rumsey’s daughter.  Except for the fact that he thought Lady Catherine would be an amiable wife, he didn’t get the sense that they’d do much more than show up in public together whenever necessary and ensure he got an heir.  The only difference in marrying Claire was that they weren’t going to be amiable.

H
e shrugged and drank more port wine.  Well, so be it.  This was his lot in life.  Having a title meant he had responsibilities.  He wasn’t promised happiness when he was born.

After an hour passed, he decided he might as well get the ordeal over with.  He stood up and headed upstairs, feeling more like a
gentleman about to meet his maker than a groom approaching his bride on his wedding night.  The door to Claire’s bedchamber was shut, which didn’t surprise him.  She was probably hoping he wouldn’t show up, but he couldn’t grant her such a reprieve.

As he entered his bedchamber, his valet turned from the nightclothes he set out for him.  “Is there anything else you require,
my lord?”

“No.  This will be it,” Nate
replied.

His valet adjusted the candles on the dresser before he bowed and left the room, softly shutting the door behind him.

Nate glanced at the door that separated his bedchamber from Claire’s and wondered if she had any idea that this particular door existed.  Even if she locked the door leading to the hallway, he had a key that he could use in that door.  There was no telling if she locked him out, especially after the way she’d been acting at dinner.  It would be interesting to find out if she had.  Then he’d get an indication of how resistant she was to giving him an heir.

He changed into his nightclothes and
tightened the cord on his robe before he left his room, deciding entering through the door adjoining their rooms might frighten her.  After thinking over his rehearsed speech for the tenth time, he knocked on the door.

There was no answer from the other side, so he tested the doorknob and was relieved when he realized it wasn’t locked.  Good.  Even if she didn’t want him to be there, at least she wasn’t going to fight the issue.  He didn’t relish the idea of forcing his way into her room.  The situation was awkward enough as it was.  He opened the door.  The curtains were drawn closed,
but the candles were lit.

Claire was sitting on her bed, gulping down a glass of sherry as if her life depended on it.  His gaze went to the almost-empty decanter on the small table next to her.  She finished her glass and picked up the decanter to pour the rest of it into the glass, but she missed and some of it spilled onto the rug.

Had he not been in shock at seeing her drink with the abandon of a drunken sailor, he would have acted sooner so he could stop her from drinking directly from the decanter.  When she finished, she giggled and set the decanter down with a loud thud on the table.  Something in him snapped and he moved forward to grab the glass from her hand before she dropped it.

Holding the glass to his chest, he quickly went to the door and shut it.  He didn’t think anyone would see them, but there was
no sense in letting anyone hear his wife laughing because she was drunk.  He returned to her and set the glass on the table.  “What are you doing?” he asked his wife as she inspected her gown.

“Did I get any sherry on it?” She hiccupped and giggled.  “I love this gown.  Lilly hates the color blue.  She likes reds and pinks.  But I love blue.  Blue is so soothing.”

He rolled his eyes.  What did he care about dress colors?

“I think the gown is dry.  I got some on the rug, though.”

It took him a moment to realize she was talking about the sherry.  She stumbled toward the wash basin, but he stopped her.  “Sit down.  I’ll take care of it.”

She crossed her arms and tried to stand up straight but wobbled.

“Here.” He led her to a chair and then lit a couple of candles on her dresser so he could see where the sherry was on the rug.  “Don’t move.”

He went to the wash basin and grabbed the clean cloth and soaped it.  This wasn’t exactly what he thought he’d be doing on his wedding nigh
t, but he couldn’t have the housekeeper clean the rug and tell the others the lady of the house had to get herself drunk in order to consummate their marriage.  He knelt by the rug and washed it clean.

Claire leaned forward in her chair.  “Psst.”

He stopped scrubbing the rug and looked at her.  “What?”

“I spilled some sherry on the rug.”

She giggled again as if she thought that was the funniest thing in the world.

With a shake of his head, he returned his attention to the rug and finished cleaning it.  He stood up and placed the rag into the basin.

She hiccupped.  “I’ve never had that much sherry before.  All I’ve ever had was a little glass to drink, but this time Marion brought a whole decanter of it.”

“So you drank it all?” he asked, surprised she didn’t choose to exercise more self-restraint.

With a playful shrug, she said, “I was nervous.”

“There’s nothing to be nervous about.  We’re
not going to do anything in bed.”

She straightened in the chair but swayed to the right before she steadied herself.  “We’re not?”

Considering she was drunk, he had no idea how well she understood him.  “I don’t feel like forcing the issue.”

She stared at him in a way that made him assume she didn’t know what he meant, but then she let out a loud sigh of relief and relaxed in the chair.  “Good.  I was scared.” She giggled and took off her slippers.

“Scared?”  What in the world was there to be scared of?  By the way she’d manipulated things and then confronted him as soon as they got home, he didn’t think anything scared her.

She gave him a surpri
singly solemn nod.  “Yes.” She stood up and carried her slippers to the bed.

She stumbled and almost fell, so he caught her.  “Here.” Still holding her, he took the slippers and put them at the foot of her bed.

“I’ve never been with a gentleman before,” she whispered and pointed to the bed.  “In one of those.” She giggled and leaned against him.

“I should hope not.”

“I don’t know what to expect.”

“Well, no one can
know until they’ve done it.”

To his surprise, she wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled.  “Have you done it?”

“No.”

“Are you scared, too?” she whispered.

“No.” Good grief.  Whatever she found so alarming about the whole thing, he couldn’t even begin to imagine.  “You have nothing to worry about.  I’m going to take you to bed and you’re going to sleep.  Alone.”

“Thank you.”

His eyebrows furrowed.  “For what?”

“For not making me do this tonight.  Marion said the sherry would relax me, but I don’t know how good it did.  It feels like the world is spinning around me, but I don’t think I stopped being scared.”

“I don’t understand why you’d be scared at all.  Annoyed, resistant, begrudging…”  Or perhaps she’d feel a mixture of all of those things.  “You’re scared?”

She snuggled closer to him and lowered her voice.  “My mother told me it was painful.  She said she cried her first time.  Marion said otherwise, b
ut I don’t know what it’ll be like for me.”

He nodded.  “I think I understand now.” Glancing at her bed, he said, “You need to go to bed. 
I’ll give you something you’ll need for that headache you’re going to have when you wake up.”

She wove her fingers through the hair at the base of his neck.  “That is so thoughtful of you.  Thank you.”

He caught the twinkle in her eyes and the smile on her lips.  She was such a beautiful lady.  Not only that, but she could be charming when she wanted to be.  He cleared his throat.  “Yes, well, don’t thank me until your hangover passes.”

“Lord Roderick,” she whispered before he could pull away from her.

“What?”

“Will you kiss me?”

He blinked in surprise.  “What?”

“It is our wedding n
ight, and you didn’t kiss me at the wedding.  Would you kiss me, just once, so I know what it’s like?”

“I doubt you’ll remember it.”

“Please?”

He sighed, thinking this was a bad idea, but he rather liked her this way.  She was honest and sweet.  Resting his hands on her hips, he nodded.  “All right.”

She stepped on her tiptoes, closed her eyes, and brought her lips to his.  His first instinct was to change his mind because it suddenly occurred to him how personal a kiss was, but then he grew aware of how warm and soft her lips were.  He closed his eyes and gave into the pleasure of kissing her.  Before he could talk himself out of it, he brought his arms around her and deepened the kiss.

She seemed to melt into him, something he particularly enjoyed.  His body responded to her, urging him to continue.  He parted his mouth and traced her lower lip with his tongue.  She hesitated for a moment but then parted her lips for him, so he brought his tongue into her mouth.  It was one of the best things he’d ever experienced, but as much as he wanted to keep going and find out the other pleasures they might sha
re together, he couldn’t do it.  What he now had with her was a good memory, and he didn’t want anything to taint it.

Reluctant, he pulled away from her and turned back her bedcovers.  “You need to get your sleep.”

Though it was unnecessary, he fluffed her pillow, not sure why he was going through all the trouble except, for the moment at least, he didn’t want to dwell on the circumstances that led him into this marriage.  It’d been a long and exhausting day.  The best thing he could do was let it go for tonight.  Tomorrow, he had business to tend to, and he’d be better off if he managed a good night’s sleep.

When he turned back to Claire, he saw that she’d taken her gown off.  It was on the tip of his tongue to suggest she wait until he left the room before disrobing, but she was slipping out of her undergarments and all he could do was think of how much better she looked without clothes on.  He thought to alert her to the fact that he was standing in the room, no less than three feet from her.  That might stop her from slowly taking her jewelry off and placing th
em on the dresser.  She was in no hurry to cover herself, and though she couldn’t have intended it, it struck him as the most erotic thing he’d ever witnessed.