The Earl's Stolen Bride (Marriage by Deceit Book 4) (14 page)

Chapter Sixteen

“Melissa, it’s nice to see you,” Chloe said as she hurried into the drawing room the next afternoon, pushing the pin back into her hair. 

Once again, Orlando decided to spend some more days with her, but this time, she almost hadn’t heard her lady’s maid knock on her door before she opened it.  Then there was the matter of putting on a dress and fixing her hair.  She’d helped her lady’s maid do it all, mindful she wouldn’t have had to make Melissa wait so long if she’d already had clothes on.

Chloe was starting to get lax, and that wasn’t good.  She needed to be diligent if she expected to keep up the secret.

Now, as she asked the butler to bring them tea and scones, she could hardly catch her breath.  As he left the room, she offered an apologetic smile to her friend.  “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”

“Well, it’s my fault if you think about it,” Melissa said, sitting in the chair next to Chloe.  “I sent a missive saying I’d stop by, but I never said when.  I had planned to come sooner, except I was with Logan and one thing led to another and,” with a smile, she shrugged, “I lost track of time.”

“The important thing is he’s not as dreadful as you expected him to be when you married him,” Chloe replied.

“No, he’s not.  He’s got a marvelous sense of humor.  It’s hard to stay mad at a gentleman who makes you laugh.”

“Yes, I imagine it is.  I’m glad things are going so well for you.”

The butler came into the room and set the tray and scones on the table.  Chloe leaned forward and smelled peppermint in the tea.  Good.  She’d hoped he’d remember to give her the peppermint tea.  It seemed to be the only thing to ease her nerves.  Otherwise, she couldn’t fight off the discomfort in her stomach.  All this secrecy was making her sick.  She hadn’t expected it to be so difficult, but it was.  It made her even more eager to leave London.  Then her stomach wouldn’t be tied up in knots all the time.

“I do have something exciting to tell you,” Melissa said as Chloe poured tea into their cups.

“What is it?” Chloe asked.

“I’m going to have a baby.”

“You are?  That’s wonderful!” Chloe gave her a hug before handing her the cup.  “Things really are going well with you and Logan.”

“They are.  I was so excited when I found out I was expecting that I sent him a missive saying I had something important to tell him.  He was at White’s at the time.  I didn’t think he’d come home right away, but he did.”

“That was sweet.  Not every gentleman will give up an afternoon at White’s to find out what’s on his wife’s mind.”

“I know.  And it was then I knew, without a doubt, he loved me.” She sipped her tea and laughed.  “He said he loved me.  But sometimes it isn’t until someone shows it through an action that you know it’s really true.”

Chloe was about to sip her tea but then put the cup in her lap.  Melissa was right.  It was one thing to profess one’s love, but it was another when the words were accompanied by a meaningful act.  Did Orlando feel she didn’t love him as much as she claimed because she insisted on keeping their marriage a secret in order to appease her parents?

“How are you doing?” Melissa asked, interrupting her thoughts.

Chloe turned her gaze back to her friend.  “Oh, I feel fine.”

“I heard you went to the country to mourn your husband’s loss.  I assure you, I wasn’t prying.  It’s just that I heard about it at one of the balls.  Quite a few ladies mentioned how romantic it was you’re so distraught.” She shook her head.  “It’s rather ridiculous they think such a thing is romantic, if you ask me.  What’s so romantic about crying because someone died?”

Sipping her tea, Chloe debated whether or not to tell her about Orlando.  Melissa was her friend.  Granted, Helena was her closest friend, but Melissa had proven herself to be a good companion, too.  Just how many people could she get away with telling?

“Don’t worry,” Melissa added.  “Your secret is safe with me.”

Her eyebrows furrowed.  Did Melissa know?  Did Helena or Regina tell her?  “Secret?” she forced out.

“I know you aren’t sad Lord Hawkins died.  You hardly knew him.  I can’t blame you for leaving London, though.  Your mother has been going everywhere to gather sympathy on your behalf.  You left London because she embarrassed you, didn’t you?”

Chloe relaxed.  Good.  Melissa hadn’t been told the truth, nor did she guess it.  And that meant others weren’t likely to figure out the truth either.  She and Orlando were doing well at being discreet.  But even so, she couldn’t deny the twinge of guilt that made the knot in her stomach tighter.

“I can trust you to keep a secret, can’t I?” Chloe asked in a low voice.  “The real secret of why I left.”

Melissa set her cup down and leaned toward Chloe.  “Of course, you can.  Is something wrong?”

“No, not wrong.  The truth is I married Lord Reddington.”

“Lord Reddington?”

“He’s Lord Davenport’s friend.  It’s so soon after Lord Hawkins died that I can’t tell anyone without creating a scandal.”

Melissa glanced from her to the closed doors of the drawing room then returned her gaze to her.  “Is Lord Reddington here?  In this house?”

Her cheeks warm, Chloe nodded.  “He’s been hiding in my bedchamber so the servants won’t know he’s here.”

“Then that’s why you looked so flustered when you came into the room.  You were up there with him, and I must have interrupted you two.”

“I didn’t really look flustered, did I?”

“Don’t worry.  No one would have guessed you had a gentleman in your bed.  I thought I disturbed your nap.”

Chloe frowned.  “Really?  You’re not just saying that to put my mind at ease?”

“No.  I really mean it.”

That was a relief.  The knot in her stomach loosened, but only a little.  She still didn’t feel all that well.

“This is good,” Melissa told her.  “Now you have a husband who won’t run off to another country.  It’s even better if you can have him in your bed.” She gave her a knowing wink.  “Or on a chair or at your desk.”

This time Chloe was the one who glanced at the door, silly as it was.  The doors were shut.  No one could hear them.  She shifted in her chair and focused on Melissa.  “Does it hurt when you do it on a chair or on a desk?”

“It has made me or Logan sore in the knees or elbows once in a while, but that’s only when we were on a hard surface.” With a twinkle in her eye, she added, “It was worth it, though.”

Chloe tried to imagine what hard surfaces Melissa might be referring to.  There was the desk, she’d mentioned, of course, but where else had she and Logan done it?  She scanned the room.  The floor perhaps?  It didn’t look very comfortable down there.  But she had to admit the idea of being down there piqued her interest.

She bit her lip then turned back to Melissa.  “Do you hurt when he’s not on top?” Despite the heat rising in her cheeks, she forced out, “Between your legs.”

“Hurt?  You mean between my legs?  Why should it hurt?”

“It hurt the first time Orlando and I were together, but then it didn’t anymore.” She cleared her throat and fanned her face.  My, it was getting hot in here!  “We haven’t tried anything but him being on top…and in bed…because of it.  He’s afraid he’ll hurt me if we do it any other way.” As an afterthought, she added, “Or anywhere else.”

“Oh, I see what you mean.  No, it won’t hurt.  When you’re a virgin, it can hurt, but after that, it shouldn’t.  You should be able to do it however you want.”

Chloe hesitated to ask the next thing on her mind but figured she might as well since Melissa was being so open with her.  “Just how many ways do you and Logan do it?”

“Doesn’t Orlando have the book?”

“The book?”

“The book that instructs gentlemen on how to pleasure a lady.  A lot of gentlemen have it.  Apparently, Lord Edon has a lot of them.  He gives a copy to everyone who wants one.”

“Does this book assure gentlemen it doesn’t hurt a lady to make love in different positions?”

Melissa thought about it then nodded.  “I do recall reading a section on easing a virgin into lovemaking.  After that, it assures him he can do whatever he wants with her as long as she’s willing to do it.  The author even encourages gentlemen to do other positions.  If I remember right, her exact words were, ‘If you do it the same way every time, she’ll grow bored and fall asleep—or worse, claim a headache.’”

“She?”

“The book is supposedly written by a lady who wishes to be anonymous, but it could’ve been written by a gentleman. I suspect the author is really Lord Edon.  He’s a notorious rake, and he has a lot of copies on hand.  If he were to claim he wrote it, gentlemen would probably laugh at him.  But, since he used a lady’s persona, he avoids being mocked while sharing his knowledge.  This way, he can’t lose.”

“Or it could be from a real lady.  I can’t imagine Lord Edon being shy about sharing his prowess in bed.  He’d want everyone to know it if he authored the book.”

“Maybe.  You could be right.  But my instinct tells me it’s him.” Seeming satisfied with her theory, Melissa picked up a scone and bit into it.  “From what you told me, it doesn’t sound like Orlando has that book.”

“No, I don’t think he does.”

“That’s not a problem.  I’ll have Logan get me a copy and send it to you.”

Chloe sipped her tea and debated whether or not it would be proper to accept such a gift.  As much as she wanted to know what was in it, did she dare risk others finding out she had it in her possession?

As if she read her mind, Melissa added, “I’ll wrap it in brown paper and send it to you with my name on it.  No one will be the wiser.”

That sounded like a good plan.  A great one, in fact.  Chloe did want to try new things.  It’d been exciting to learn how to bring Orlando pleasure with her hand, and afterwards, he’d given her pleasure with his hand.  Who knew what other things there were to discover?

“Thank you for the book,” Chloe told Melissa.  “It sounds like it’ll be an enjoyable read.”

Melissa giggled.  “Only if you do what’s in it.”

Though Chloe’s face warmed again, she chuckled.  Melissa was probably right.  If Chloe already enjoyed her times with Orlando, this would only make things better, and who was she to deny such an opportunity?

Melissa glanced at the clock and smiled.  “I wish I could stay longer, but I promised Logan I’d go for a stroll with him in the park today.  There won’t be many more days like this.  Before we know it, it’ll be too chilly to enjoy the outdoors.” Standing up, she added, “I’ll let you get back to Orlando.”

Chloe thanked her for the visit and then bid her a good day before returning to her husband.

Chapter Seventeen

The next evening, Chloe was due to go to Dr. Harvey’s informal dinner, and unfortunately, she was afraid she was going to vomit.  Sipping the peppermint tea helped, but only enough so she could keep her lunch down.  It was nerves.  It had to be nerves.  The strain of keeping the secret and having to keep up with her mother’s social demands was taking its toll on her.

Her lady’s maid paused while pinning a black pearl in her hair and looked at her in the vanity mirror.  “Are you feeling ill, my lady?”

“No.  I’m fine.”

She almost told her lady’s maid she was dreading this evening’s dinner but decided it was best not to in case someone found out.  Who knew if she’d tell someone who would, in turn, tell her parents or—worse—Dr. Harvey himself.

There was a knock at the door, and her lady’s maid quickly placed the last dark pearl in her hair so she could answer it.

Chloe took the moment to study her reflection, her gaze going to the black gown she was wearing.  The more she looked at the color black, the more she hated it.  She missed wearing the brighter colors.  There wasn’t a trace of another color anywhere.  Not in her hair, not on her feet, and not on her gloved hands either.

Then there was that awful hat her mother picked out for her.  Had Chloe not been so tired, she would have protested.  But given her lack of sleep and Orlando’s early departure that morning, she hadn’t had the energy.  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She couldn’t keep letting her mother dictate everything, and it wasn’t up to Orlando to do this for her.  This was something she had to do on her own.

Tomorrow.  Starting tomorrow, she was going to tell her mother no.  More than that, she wasn’t going to feel guilty for saying it.  She had to change the way she was doing things.  All she had to do was get through this dinner.  After that, she would start acting like a grown lady instead of a child.

“Lady Hawkins?”

Opening her eyes, Chloe turned her attention to her lady’s maid.  “Yes?”

Her lady’s maid’s eyebrows furrowed.  “Are you sure you feel well enough to go out this evening?”

“She looks just fine to me,” came her mother’s familiar voice.

Chloe glanced past her lady’s maid and saw her mother entering the bedchamber.  Her mother scanned the room, and it took Chloe a moment to realize her mother was looking for Orlando.

“Everything’s all right, Mother,” she said, hoping her mother would understand her meaning.  The secret was still safe.

Since her mother gave her a satisfied nod, Chloe assumed she did.  She rose to her feet and faced her mother.  “I’m ready.”

“Good,” her mother replied and waved her toward the door.  “Your father’s waiting downstairs.”

Chloe picked up her hat.  Bypassing her lady’s maid, Chloe avoided eye contact with the lady and followed her mother out the door.  She didn’t know if her lady’s maid pitied her or not, but it was quickly making her feel inadequate.  What other countess had her mother telling her what to do? There was no doubt about it.  She had to change.  She had to be the lady she wanted to be.

“You look lovely this evening,” her father complimented as she and her mother reached the entryway.

“Yes,” her mother agreed, giving her a smile, “a widow always looks distinguished.  Don’t forget your hat, my dear.”

Recalling the hat she was holding, Chloe settled it on her head.

“Isn’t it lovely?” her mother asked her father.  “I chose it for her.  Lady Cadwalader suggested the style.  She has excellent taste.”

Her father nodded his approval then led them to the carriage.  Chloe sat next to the window, and her mother got in beside her.  Then, her father sat next to her mother.  As soon as the footman closed the door, Chloe felt trapped.  And she was.  She was trapped by what she was allowing her parents to do.

“Now,” her mother said, directing her gaze to her, “I found out Dr. Harvey and his wife love the theatre.  Your father and I took the liberty of going there the other evening, so I can tell you all about the performances.  I don’t want you to feel left out if the topic comes up during the meal.”

As her mother began telling Chloe about it, the carriage pulled forward and a swell of nausea came over her.  Chloe put her hand over her stomach and closed her eyes.  Ignoring her mother, she focused on her breathing, counting each breath until her stomach settled.  If she didn’t assert herself tomorrow, this strain was going to be the end of her.

“The actors were marvelous except for one,” her mother rambled.  “He was new.  You can always tell who the new ones are.  The new ones try too hard.  They don’t adapt well to their roles like the others.”

“Yes, but we all have to start somewhere,” her father added.  “At least he wasn’t as horrible as the one we saw last time we were at the theatre.”

“Oh, that’s true.  He wasn’t well received at all.”

“Nor should he have been.  He had no business being on the stage if he couldn’t learn all of his lines.”

“Maybe he was nervous,” Chloe blurted out.

They stopped talking to each other and looked at her, their eyes wide.

Chloe took a deep breath then gulped.  “It’s not easy for someone to get in front of a lot of people.  You shouldn’t judge him so harshly.”

“As soon as he walks on stage, he should know others are going to judge how well he does or does not perform,” her mother replied.  “We can’t treat him like a child and pat him on the head for a job well done if he’s not any good.”

“What would people think if we tolerated poor acting?” her father agreed.

“Maybe after he gains experience, he’ll do as well as the others,” Chloe said.  “Maybe he’ll be even better.”

“We pay good money to see the play,” her mother replied.

“If he’s doing his best, he should be given some mercy,” Chloe argued.

Her parents laughed, and her father said, “If that was his best, the quality of the theatre is in trouble.”

This only made the two of them laugh harder.

Giving up, Chloe turned back to the window.  Now she remembered why she faltered every time it came to telling either of them no.  It was easy to forget after spending time with Orlando.  But it didn’t matter if they would respond this way or not when she said no and they didn’t like it.  She had to risk their displeasure.  It was the price she’d have to pay for being her own person.

The carriage came to a stop, and her mother patted her arm.  “We’re here!  Don’t they have a beautiful townhouse for an untitled couple?”

Though she didn’t feel like it, Chloe glanced out her window and saw their townhouse, which looked like any other townhouse along the street.  She didn’t see what was particularly special about it any more today than she had when she and her mother came here with Alexander.

The footman opened the door, and her mother urged her out.  Chloe stepped outside and glanced at the other carriages passing them by.  She couldn’t help but wonder what Orlando was doing.  He was probably either at White’s or Toby’s.  He’d said time went faster if he kept himself occupied.  Then, after he’d said that, he’d kissed her and added he was counting the days to when they could go back to Edmonstone.  The reminder lifted her spirits, and suddenly, her stomach didn’t feel so tight.

“Come, Chloe,” her mother whispered, pulling her toward the steps of the physician’s townhouse.

Chloe went up the steps, and when the footman opened the door, she followed her parents inside.  After they took their hats off, they were escorted into the drawing room.  Chloe sat in the chair next to her mother.

“I wonder what Dr. Harvey wants to give you,” her mother whispered.  “I think he said it has something to do with Lord Hawkins.”

“I don’t want anything that has to do with him,” Chloe whispered in return.

Before her mother could reply, Dr. Harvey and his wife entered the room.

After Dr. Harvey greeted everyone, he came over to Chloe.  “Lady Hawkins,” he said, extending his hand to her.

Since her mother looked expectantly at her, Chloe gave him her hand, and he leaned over to kiss it.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said then released her hand.  “Your husband had wished to introduce us when he returned from India.  He said you were one of the most beautiful ladies in London.”

Chloe smiled then added a “Thank you” despite her shock.  So that was why Lord Hawkins married her.  She’d wondered about it from time to time since her parents didn’t have anything to offer in terms of a dowry, a prestigious name, or personal connections.  He’d picked her because of how she looked.  He’d had no real interest in her.  She was an acquisition, just like all the art he’d told her he’d collected in India which he’d put on his ship to take home.

“What a nice compliment,” her mother said.  “Lord Hawkins was ever the gentleman.”

“He was,” Dr. Harvey sat beside his wife on the settee, “and he’ll be greatly missed.  That reminds me,” he looked at Chloe, “I have a drawing of him from when he was a child.  I’m sure your mother told you I’ve been friends with him since we were young?”

“Yes.” Chloe barely recalled something along those lines.

“Our parents insisted on the drawings, and I didn’t realize I even had his until the other day.  I thought you might like it, being that you were his wife.”

“Oh, that’s,” Chloe struggled to think of the right word, “thoughtful.”

What was she supposed to do with a drawing of Lord Hawkins?  She didn’t want it, nor did he have a child to pass it on to.

“What a wonderful keepsake,” her mother said.

Chloe looked at her mother.  Maybe Chloe would give it to her.

The butler came in and announced dinner was ready.  Chloe thought this would be a relief since it meant she was closer to going home, but as soon as she entered the dining parlor, the discomfort in her stomach returned.

Her mother called out her name and gestured to her chair that the butler had pulled out for her.  Chloe hastened to sit down and took a deep breath in hopes of easing her nausea.  And it worked.  Already, she was beginning to feel better.  She glanced at the assortment of foods on the long table.  White soup, sliced ham, poached salmon, glazed carrots, corn, strawberries, cheese, biscuits, dry cake, and trifles.  Her stomach tightened in dread.  Just how was she going to eat any of this?

“The meal looks splendid,” Chloe’s father said.

“It does,” her mother agreed.  “Don’t you think so, Chloe?” she asked.

Chloe swallowed, but for some reason, it only made her feel worse.  She couldn’t recall a time when she ever felt this awful.  She studied the white soup the butler put in front of her.  The cream in it looked much too heavy.  Even the promise of white wine didn’t settle her stomach.  She needed something else to drink if she was going to get through this meal.

Chloe’s gaze went to Dr. Harvey and his wife.  “I apologize for the inconvenience, but could I trouble you for some peppermint tea?”

“I’m afraid we don’t have any at the moment,” Dr. Harvey replied.  “Is the wine not to your liking?”

“It’s not that.  The wine is good.” At least she assumed he’d only pick the best of all white wines, given the splendor of the meal.  “I-I’m feeling a bit nervous.  Peppermint tea is soothing.”

Her mother chuckled.  “She’s been looking forward to this dinner all week.  She’s talked of little else.   It’s no wonder she feels the way she does.”

Dr. Harvey smiled at Chloe.  “There’s no reason to be nervous around us.  Mrs. Harvey and I are just like anyone else.”

Chloe forced a smile in return.  While the sentiment was nice, it did nothing to eliminate the unease in her stomach.  She looked back at the soup in front of her, and after a long moment, she picked up the spoon.  Next to her, her mother ate her soup in the most enthusiastic manner possible.  And her father had just as much of an appetite.

“My compliments to the cook,” her father told Dr. Harvey.  “This is the best soup I’ve ever had.”

“Francis recommended him,” Dr. Harvey said.  “Francis was known for his superior taste.”

Francis?  Chloe searched her mind for the familiar name.  Oh, right.  That was Lord Hawkins’ Christian name.

“Indeed, he was,” her father replied.  “I should have asked him to refer a cook to me.  Ours is decent enough, but now that I’m accustomed to better, I’m thinking of hiring a new one.”

“You can’t have mine,” Dr. Harvey said, humor in his voice.

As the others laughed, Chloe took a deep breath and slowly released it, her attention once more going to the soup.  Had it not been for the creamy texture, it might not have made her stomach ache in protest.  But did she dare eat this?  The carrots and strawberries, even the salmon and dry cake, looked easier on the stomach.

“You should eat,” her mother whispered in Chloe’s ear while Dr. Harvey told her father the meals his cook made.  “You don’t want to be rude.”

Her mother was right.  She had to take a couple bites.  Surely, she could manage that much.  Steadying herself, she dipped the spoon in the soup and filled it halfway.  She released an uneasy breath.  She could do this.  It was good soup.  Heavy, yes.  She couldn’t eat too much of it.  She had to be careful.