The Lodestone (36 page)

“You do not love Paolo. You don’t even know him.”

“I shall get to know him and I’ll do my best to love him. He cannot possibly be meaner to me than Mamma has been, and if he does not deny me my greatest pleasure—my music—then I’ll grant him anything he desires.” She reached inside the high, lacy collar of her wedding dress and withdrew a small key on a velvet ribbon. “See. He has given me the key to my piano. I’ll never be locked away from it again. Please try to understand. In no time at all, I’ll be in my own home and never forbidden your company. And all I must do for this glorious freedom is to be a good little wife, which I can do.”

“But
Paolo
. I cannot see you with him.”

“He has a look of Garnett about him, don’t you think, with his flaxen hair and blue eyes?” Edwina asked. “Not as handsome, of course; but pleasing to look upon.”

“No. I hear the gossip more than you, for Mamma is my source. You are referred to as beautiful, daring, delightfully scandalous. I am called eccentric, which is the same as strange. Paolo can be no more so. Believe it or not, he has a charming side. He seems very gentle. I’ll not suffer at his hands, Cleome. He wants a wife and children. He says that’s all it will take to make him happy.”

“And you? What will it take to make you happy, little one?”

The answer was simple. “My music.”

Oliver asked Cleome to stay for his five-minute visit with the bride, as he was so distressed he could do little but shake his head and weep silently. In spite of all the reassurances his niece whispered to him, it took all his strength to hold his tears in check as he escorted her to the front of the church where her groom was waiting.

**

Together, Edwina and Paolo stood at the ship’s rail and watched the brawny stevedores as they used ropes and pulleys to load her piano into the cargo hold. She stood close beside her husband, determined to be brave and as loving as she could be, considering her lack of experience and his generosity. Because it was the safest mode of transport for her piano, he had booked passage for them on a large cargo vessel with luxurious passenger staterooms. Instead of taking the shorter journey by boat across the English Channel and then traveling through France by coach, they would sail the long way to Italy, going around Spain and through the Strait of Gibraltar.

Paolo put his arm around her protectively, and then he bent to kiss her softly, briefly, before he led her back to their cabin, which was filled with flowers, wedding gifts, luggage and several bottles of expensive Paresi champagne.

Not knowing her husband’s capacity for spirits, and what spirits could do to undermine an amorous undertaking, Edwina made no protest later that night when Paolo opened the third bottle. He had consumed most of the first two bottles before dinner, which he’d said would enable him to make witty conversation at the captain’s table with people he found infinitely boring.

After dinner, when he walked her back to their stateroom, Edwina was only a little nervous. She found she did not object to the idea of granting Paolo his connubial rights, as she had thought she would. If she looked at it as an interesting experiment that would result an angelic little baby, she could get through it. And she rather liked Paolo. He was not Garnett to be sure, but he was sweet to her and often funny. While she would not want his stinging barbs directed at her, some of the wicked things he said about his aristocratic friends made her laugh. She was convinced he would be gentle and patient on their wedding night, as he’d promised.

Paolo poured himself a glass of champagne, drank it quickly, and poured another. After taking a sip, he put it down and took off his jacket and cravat. Then he settled back on the small bed and smiled at her.

“I await my blushing bride,” he said quietly, picking up his glass again.

Behind a screen in their small stateroom, Edwina changed into her nightgown and robe; and then she went uncertainly to the foot of the bed. He studied her for a moment, then rose and went to stand close to her.

“I wish to see you, Edwina.” His voice was touched by sarcasm as he stepped away from her and continued, “Turn around, my little contessa, if you please. I wish to see my bride.”

Slowly, she obeyed. It was not so much, she supposed, for a husband to ask. When she had come full circle, she stopped and waited expectantly.

“Remove your robe.”

With fingers that trembled only slightly, she untied the ribbons at her neck and slipped the robe off, letting it fall to the floor. His eyes traveled over every inch of her, from her face to her feet, pausing briefly at her bosom, where the key to her beloved piano hung between her breasts.

“Ah . . . that is where you keep it,” he observed appreciatively. “Now the rest.”

“What?”

“Edwina, darling. Do not be tiresome. Take off the remainder of your clothing. Take everything off . . . except the key on the velvet ribbon. I find it quite fetching, just where it is.”

Stunned and embarrassed, she made no move to accommodate him. “I’m sorry,” she said slowly. “Perhaps when I am more accustomed to . . . marriage . . . I can do as you bid. But for now . . . please forgive me and have patience, for I do wish to be a good wife.”

“And I wish to see my bride,” he repeated evenly. When she still stood paralyzed, uncertain of his intent and unable to move, he closed one strong hand around her neck and pulled her close so that she could feel his breath on her face.

“Take off the gown, Edwina!” he roared.

Still holding her throat, he pushed her down onto the bed and then he kicked the small table next to it, sending their water pitcher and his champagne glass crashing to the floor.

“Now, my love,” he ordered, straightening his clothes and smoothing his hair back. “Get another glass and pour some more champagne for me.” Serenely calm after his brief storm, he again reclined on their bed as she rose and hastened to do his bidding. He took the full glass from her, drank deeply and continued quietly, “I am waiting, contessa. Take off the garment and turn around, very slowly.” He seemed to enjoy her discomfort. “Or,” he finished menacingly, “I will take it off for you. The choice is yours, my dear.”

Frightened by his unexpected outburst and mortified by his odd request, Edwina unbuttoned the garment, slipped it off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Burning with shame, she fought back her tears, determined not to cry in his presence.

Breathing heavily, watching her intently, he motioned for her to turn around again. And he spoke just one word. “Slowly.”

With only a slight hesitation, she obeyed. When she faced him again and forced her eyes up to meet his, she was surprised to see that he had fallen asleep. Relieved, she put her gown back on and got into bed beside him. He was still fully clothed, on top of the coverlet, so she got beneath it, telling herself that she should not feel any shame nor be so shocked by his request. He was her husband, after all. She supposed it was natural that he’d want to see her. How naïve she was. What did she think went on between a husband and wife? Clearly, he’d had too much to drink but as it was their wedding night, she supposed that was understandable. And he had passed out because of the amount of liquor he had consumed, and—she told herself—not because he found her undesirable.

But a nagging worry seized her heart. His sudden, unexpected violence frightened her but perhaps she should have been quicker to obey. She missed Cleome and her Uncle Oliver and instead of forgetting Garnett Easton, as she had hoped Paolo’s love would make her do, she longed for him more than ever. She fell asleep thinking of Garnett and how comfortable they had been dining together that night, only six weeks ago, at the Eagle’s Head Inn.

The next morning, the ship ran into a light storm and before the captain could steer them around it, Edwina’s husband became ill. Whether it was from the motion of the waves or all the champagne he’d drunk, she couldn’t tell; but he insisted she call in a cabin boy to attend him. He advised his bride that she would be better off in the adjoining dressing room until he felt better, and he did not trouble her again during their honeymoon voyage.

Paolo was delighted to get home to his villa, which was located on his own private paradise, the Isola di Paresi, off the coast of Sicily, near Palermo. It was a beautiful estate, and the large, richly furnished house was a virtual palace. Tall, wide windows let every breeze in to cool the polished tile floors, and there was an army of servants to meet his every need, he said with a smile, and to help him pamper his contessa. Edwina thought it must be his servants he pampered, for there was not a frail one among them. They were all robust, looked as strong as warriors and seemed devoted to the graceful nobleman they served. Edwina believed it a good sign that they were all so well fed and held their master in such esteem. He was gentle and solicitous of her and she decided to forgive his outburst during their honeymoon voyage. He must be very kind, if his servants so revered him, and again she vowed to herself to try and become accustomed to his strange ways.

In addition to the huge master bedroom that was decorated in shades of lavender, deep purple and gold, they each had their own suite of apartments; but it was to the former that Edwina’s luggage was taken, and to which a tall, well-formed maid led her. The large bedroom, which Paolo referred to as the lilac room, was on the ground floor. In addition to the interior door on the main hallway, it had big double doors that opened onto a marble patio to let in the refreshing ocean air. When two menservants uncrated her piano Paolo insisted it occupy a place of honor in the library, and Edwina was able to put aside her doubts. Paolo, in the home he so clearly loved, was once again charming and witty.

After a sumptuous dinner, she retired with him to the lilac room, and she resolved to do everything in her power to make him happy. He ordered a bath brought in for her and although it made her uncomfortable, she did not protest when he settled himself in a chair to watch as Sophia, the woman he’d presented as her personal maid, helped her get undressed and into the tub.

“That will be all, Sophia,” Paolo said, and she withdrew with a quick curtsy. He said nothing more. He simply leaned back in his chair and watched as his young wife picked up a bar of scented soap and a soft cloth and commenced her bath. When she was covered in frothy, fragrant bubbles, he rang the bell and Sophia came back. The maid helped her to stand and then rinsed off the soap with pitchers of fresh, warm water, after which she assisted her out of the tub, dried her off and helped her into her nightgown.

Edwina wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen next but she was willing, if not eager, for her forestalled wedding night. She had hoped to find fulfillment in Paolo’s embrace but since their strange voyage, she was no longer sure that was possible. Still, when he got into bed with her, clad in a snowy linen nightshirt, she turned to him with a smile. Instead of extinguishing the candles on the table nearby, he reached for her. She went gladly into his arms but without kissing her, as she expected, he untied the ribbons of her gown and slowly drew it off, leaving her completely naked beneath his gaze. Leisurely, he ran his hands over her body, delicately exploring every part of her in the flickering candlelight. Her breath came fast as she responded to his light touch, and she experienced a sensation that promised she would, indeed, enjoy being married after all.

And then, he stopped stroking her and studied her, letting his eyes roam freely over her curves, as his hands had done. But as she was about to put her arms around him, he turned over and went to sleep. This process he repeated every night for the first week of her residence in her new home, and then, abruptly, he had all her things moved to her own suite of rooms. Paolo summoned her to their shared bedroom only twice more, and both times it was the same. He caressed her in intimate places and in the glow of candlelight, he stared at her unclad form. But, although she thought it must be clear to him that his touch excited her, he went no further.

She didn’t know exactly what a wedding night was supposed to be, but she knew there should be more. A month later, her husband celebrated his twenty-ninth birthday by consuming a prodigious amount of champagne and brandy, and playing cards far into the night with two strange men. Bernardo, who spoke little English, was a surly lout and looked stronger than he looked intelligent. The other man, Rupert, was an Englishman and a physician who seemed to dote on Paolo’s health and well-being. Their lewd stares made Edwina uncomfortable and when it became clear that the count would do nothing to stop their leering, Edwina made her excuses and went to her solitary bed.

Chapter Sixteen

Garnett stood at the rail of Drake’s new ship, the
Lady Ramona
, enjoying the cool sea breezes as they entered the port of Lisbon. This way of life, he knew, would require a long period of adjustment. It was a life without the endless supply of money and entertainments befitting a gentleman of his former standing, without a father to make decisions for him and a mother he could charm into getting him out of scrapes. Laurence Easton, now suffering a quiet retirement at their home in Oakham, stripped as it was of the score of servants and some of the works of art it had contained, was too ill and embarrassed by his sudden penury to receive any guests. Elizabeth was a ghost of the lovely woman she had been before financial woes beset them. Cleome, being Cleome, had her solicitor arrange for a modest line of credit for Lady Easton at the bank in Oakham and to save Elizabeth further discomfiture, had sworn Oliver and the bank officers to secrecy. Elizabeth had been overjoyed, assuming Garnett had done it somehow. Although Garnett didn’t correct this illusion, he knew Cleome was his mother’s benefactress. How he hated being without money.