Read The Mysterious Lord Marlowe Online
Authors: Anne Herries
‘Damn it,’ George muttered, looking very white. ‘I do not think I shall be able to attend the dance this evening, Jane.’
‘We shall cancel it,’ she said. ‘Please do not worry, my dearest love. I care only for your pain—and I am so grateful that Blake’s aim was not true, for I am sure he meant to kill you.’
‘Mercy on us,’ Lady Mary said, coming into the parlour at that moment. ‘There is a small crowd across the road, Jane. I dare say the constable has been fetched. I was upstairs and did not hear what happened.’
‘Blake tried to kill George and Mr Stark killed him,’ Jane said. ‘I fear we must disappoint our friends this evening, Godmother.’
‘No, please do not cancel,’ George said. ‘If
I am able, I shall make an appearance, but the dance must go ahead.’
‘First things first,’ Lady Mary said. ‘I’ll have the footmen assist you to bed, sir. Once the doctor has been and we know you are in no danger, we shall discuss what ought to be done.’
‘I shall go for the magistrate,’ Andrew said. ‘The sooner this business is finished and done, the better. For myself, I can only say that I am heartily glad Stark shot to kill. We can stop worrying every time Jane goes out of the house.’
Stark and Andrew took their leave. Lady Mary summoned two footmen, who, being large, strong men, carried George up the stairs to his bedchamber despite his protests. A maid had prepared the bed, pulling the covers back. The unpleasant experience had left George a little faint, but once propped up against a pile of feather pillows, he recovered enough to smile at Jane and tell her not to worry.
Lady Mary brought a bowl of cool water. Blood was wiped away and George’s arm bound to the ladies’ satisfaction.
‘I shall bring you up a tisane,’ Lady Mary
said. ‘Please try to rest, sir. I am sure the doctor will not be too long in coming.’
‘You are very kind, ma’am.’
Jane turned to leave, but George caught her by the wrist, holding her.
‘Please do not go,’ he said. ‘Sit here and talk to me until the doctor comes. I am sorry that you had to witness such a distressing incident, Jane. I had hoped we might prevent this, but I was not expecting it to happen in broad daylight in the middle of Bath.’
‘No, I dare say not,’ she said. ‘I am not sure, but I think Blake had been following me even before you returned to Bath. He was wearing a disguise, but he looked different from the men you set to protect me.’
George took her hand. ‘It is over now, Jane. You must try to forget all this unpleasantness. Put it from your mind.’
‘I am not distressed, George. I am anxious for your sake, but the rest is already forgotten.’
‘Sure?’
‘It is over. The shadow has passed and as soon as you are well again, we shall be married. We shall forget this ever happened.’
‘Indeed, we shall,’ he agreed and kissed her hand. ‘Do you have any idea how very much I
adore you, my darling? I wish for nothing more than to claim my lovely bride.’
‘You cannot long for our wedding night more than I, my very dearest George. My feelings towards you are quite shameless. I am afraid I am not at all the modest bride I ought to be, for I do not in the least fear becoming your wife in every way.’
‘You are lovely in every way and I want you so much.’
Jane bent down to kiss him softly on the lips. ‘You must rest, my dearest. I know you are in pain.’
‘I shall be better after some sleep. Now promise me you will let Andrew take you to the dance this evening and make my apologies.’
‘Is that truly what you wish?’
‘Yes, it is. I shall rest and sleep the better for knowing that you have not disappointed all our friends.’
‘Then I shall go for a short time. Lady Mary will stay to the last to entertain our friends, but I shall return after the first few dances.’
‘You must stay until supper,’ George said. ‘Now, be a good girl and promise me—and I promise to rest and get well for our wedding.’
‘Very well, since you wish it.’ Jane smiled
as she bent to kiss his lips. ‘I shall stay long enough to please everyone and then I shall come home.’
‘A
re you sure you feel able to travel?’ Jane asked anxiously. ‘You promised me you would rest and I think to travel after just two days in bed may be too much for you, my love.’
‘As I recall, you promised to stay at the dance for supper, but came home after dancing only three times.’ George sent her a challenging look. ‘I have rested for two days and think I can manage to be conveyed in a carriage. I have no intention of riding my horse at this stage. Besides, I would be at your home this weekend to hear the banns read. I wish for no delay to our wedding plans.’
‘I stayed at the dance long enough to receive the kind wishes of our friends and give your
apologies, George. Everyone understood and accepted that we had done what we thought best, but I am sure they would have thought me heartless had I danced the night away while you lay sick in bed.’
‘I was not fatally wounded, merely in some discomfort,’ George replied with a twinkle in his eye. ‘However, we shall not quarrel, for it is far too tiring, my love. You must consider my state and humour me, Jane.’
‘You, sir, are a tease,’ Jane replied and laughed. ‘I can see there will be no living with you if you do not have your way, but you must promise to rest as soon as we are home.’
‘Yes, I dare say I shall have no choice,’ George said. He hesitated, then, ‘I promised Stark a place in my household. I have decided to make him my agent for the estate in Sussex. You will have no objection, Jane? I know what he did—if the idea upsets you, I shall find him something elsewhere.’
‘He saved our lives, George. Had Mr Stark not killed Blake he would have fired again, at you and me. Besides, he behaved with respect even when he kidnapped me and I believe everyone is entitled to a second chance.’
‘You are very forgiving,’ George kissed her
hand. ‘I think I am a fortune man to have found you, my love.’
‘We are both lucky,’ she said. ‘We had best not keep the horses standing for we have a long day ahead of us.’
* * *
The journey was accomplished without incident, though George had been pale and quiet in the later part of the first day. He had gone straight to his room without complaint and Stark had taken him up his dinner on a tray and then had dressed his wound, proving himself an excellent valet. The next morning George had been refreshed and they had continued their journey, arriving just in time for tea on the second day.
This time George was feeling able to meet the servants, who had known Jane all her life, and to receive their good wishes. He took tea with them in the small parlour, then retired at Jane’s insistence and was given supper in his own room.
* * *
By the next morning George’s arm was not as stiff as it had been and he was almost back to his old self. He came down just before noon
and after nuncheon they spent a pleasant hour or two walking in the garden.
Jane showed him some of her favourite plants. They discovered that they shared a passion for rare and delicate species, and some time was spent discussing the gardens they might build together at their future homes.
* * *
It was as they returned to the house that they saw a gentleman walking towards them.
‘Good afternoon, Miss Lanchester—Marlowe, I trust you are recovering from your wound?’
‘Avonlea, it is good to see you,’ George said and offered his hand. ‘I am much better, thank you. We shall not need to delay the wedding.’
‘I am delighted to hear it. I wish you both good fortune and much happiness.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ Jane replied. ‘How is Lucinda?’
‘Very well, thank you. And I have had a letter from Mariah, giving her destination in Italy. She asked if you might think of visiting her this winter.’
‘I believe I shall be otherwise engaged, sir. As you know, I am to marry Lord George. However, I think my brother may wish to travel.’
‘Lucinda thought he might,’ the duke said and smiled. ‘If Mariah could be settled happily, both my wife and I would be very happy.’
‘As should I,’ Jane agreed. ‘If you leave me her destination, I shall write to Mariah and tell her of my wedding.’
* * *
‘You look very beautiful, Jane,’ her brother said as she came down the stairs on the morning of her wedding. ‘Marlowe is a very lucky man.’
‘I think I am the fortunate one.’
Jane’s smile lit her face, making her beautiful. Her gown was of a warm cream silk trimmed with lace of a coffee tone. Her satin slippers were dyed to match the lace and her bonnet of satin was tied with ribbons of a matching shade. Around her throat she wore three strands of creamy pearls fastened with a large emerald-and-diamond clasp. She wore pearl drops on her ears and an emerald-and-diamond bracelet on her arm.
‘Marlowe has certainly been generous with his gifts,’ Andrew said. The earrings had been his own gift, together with some pieces of furniture, silver and glass that had been their
mother’s, which he knew meant a great deal to Jane.
‘He is always generous,’ Jane replied with a smile. ‘But I was not speaking of gifts, Andrew. George is brave, kind, witty and caring. I do not think I could have chosen better.’
‘As a matter of fact, neither do I,’ Andrew replied, surprising her.
‘Thank you.’ Jane reached up to kiss his cheek. ‘That is the best present you could have given me, dearest Andrew. Your approval means more to me than anything.’
‘Well, I am glad to have settled things,’ Andrew said, a slight colour in his cheeks. ‘I have taken your advice, Jane. I intend to travel for a while—and then I may settle down here.’
Jane studied his face and smiled. ‘I do not know why you have hesitated, but you should go to Italy,’ she said. ‘If you love Mariah, ask her to marry you, Andrew. Unless you ask, you will never know.’
‘Yes, that is my thought on the matter,’ he agreed and looked pleased. ‘And now we had best leave, for we do not wish to keep George waiting.’
* * *
‘I am so happy,’ Jane said as she came out of church to the sound of bells pealing, her
hand upon her husband’s arm. ‘It seemed as if a shadow hung over us for so long, George, but now the sun is shining and we are free to be happy.’
‘Yes, we shall be happy,’ he said and leaned forwards to kiss her lightly on the lips.
A cheer went up from the crowd of villagers waiting to see the bride and groom leave the church. Children came forwards with gifts of flowers and a straw doll, which was a country tradition said to ensure fertility. Jane took it and then threw her own posy of flowers, which was caught by a young village girl who giggled and looked shyly at a young man in the crowd. Jane wished her luck. Then George took Jane’s hand and they were showered with confetti as they ran towards the carriage.
Once inside, George leaned forwards to kiss Jane on the lips. This time his kiss was neither light nor brief, his tongue meeting hers in a delicious twirl of sensual delight that promised much.
Jane was breathing heavily when she drew away, her cheeks a little warm as she gazed into his eyes and saw the passion there.
‘I love you so much,’ he said huskily. ‘I have
scarce known how to wait these past weeks. You grow lovelier every day, Jane.’
‘Do I?’ she asked, oddly shy. Her heart was racing and she longed to be in his arms once more, but the carriage was slowing and they had to greet their servants who had waited at home to prepare the reception. ‘I love you more than I can say, George dearest.’
The door of the carriage was opened and the steps let down. George jumped out and gave his hand to Jane, then, when she was on the step, he swept her up in his arms and carried her past the watching eyes and into the house. The family servants clapped in approval and laughed as he set her down and then kissed her full on the mouth in full view of the entire household.
Their love was so evident and everyone felt privileged to share in their happiness, the smiles and laughter rippling through the watching retainers.
‘May you always be as happy as you are today, my lord—my lady.’ Andrew’s housekeeper came bustling up to them, her face wreathed in smiles. ‘We all want to give you our best wishes, Lady Marlowe. It has been a
privilege to serve you—and we hope you will visit with us sometimes.’
‘Thank you, I shall,’ Jane said, feeling a warm glow inside. She took George’s hand and went into the huge room that had been prepared for the reception. Flowers were everywhere and the air smelled of the delicate sweet perfume of roses.
They stood just inside the door, greeting their guests as they arrived back from the church. Everyone had been so generous, and, in another reception room, the lavish gifts were set out on a long table for the guests to admire.
The Duke of Avonlea was one of the last guests to arrive. He shook George’s hand, then came to Jane.
‘You look beautiful, Lady Marlowe,’ he said and kissed her hand. ‘I must wish you happiness…’ He lowered his voice. ‘Lucinda was not quite well enough to attend, but she sent you her best wishes and told me that she wishes to give a dance for you when you return from your honeymoon. She should then be delivered from her confinement and we shall be entertaining again.’
Jane thanked him and he went off to talk
to Andrew. She knew that her brother had messages to take to Mariah when they met in Italy.
* * *
Jane’s heart swelled with pleasure as she circulated through the large room, greeting and thanking her guests. She was excited and happy, laughing and talking, enjoying the pleasures of the day.
George’s arm was now fully recovered and they performed a waltz together when the dancing began. After that some of his friends begged for a dance with the bride and she was laughingly passed from one to the other until George put his foot down and reclaimed her.
‘How much longer does this go on?’ he asked, looking down at her with such longing that Jane laughed. ‘Much as I love all our friends, I want to be alone with you.’
‘We shall leave very soon now,’ she promised. ‘I shall say goodbye to my godmother and brother—then I shall go up to change. You may have the carriage brought round in half an hour.’
‘I am too impatient,’ he said. ‘You were enjoying yourself. We shall stay another hour and then you may go up.’
‘I am ready now,’ Jane told him. ‘Say your own farewells, George dearest. I shall not keep you waiting long.’
* * *
‘How lovely this house is,’ Jane cried as she first saw the soft red of faded bricks and the low sloping roof of dark slate. Roses were growing up the walls and she thought their smell would perfume the house when the windows were opened. ‘It is one of the prettiest buildings I have ever seen.’
‘It is not as large as my other property, but it was my father’s house and his before him,’ George told her. He stood holding her hand, as they looked at the house in the afternoon sunlight. They had spent their wedding night at a house George had borrowed from a friend, breaking their journey. ‘I am glad you like it, Jane. If you listen carefully, you can hear the sea. The cove is just beyond that wooded rise.’
‘Is it a private cove?’ Jane looked at him in surprise. ‘Can we go and look—is it far?’
‘Not too far,’ he said and smiled, offering his hand. ‘We must say hello to our people first, Jane.’
George took her hand and led her to the line of waiting servants, introducing the butler and
housekeeper, and then each and every one of the maids, footmen and even the boot boy. He needed no prompting to recall all their names and Jane saw that he was respected and liked by his people, most of whom had been with the family for years.
George swept her up and carried her over the threshold. He kissed her and then set her down, before taking her hand to lead her up the wide staircase.
‘These are your rooms, my lady,’ he said, taking her through a pair of double doors at the far end of the corridor. ‘I hope the décor is to your taste, but if not you must change it as you will.’
Jane looked about her. The sitting room had clearly been refurbished very recently in shades of green and cream. The furniture was satinwood, delicate and pretty and crafted, if she was not mistaken, in Mr Sheraton’s workrooms.
‘This is so beautiful, and the décor is exactly to my taste.’ Jane looked up at him with pleasure. ‘Is that why you asked my favourite colour?’
‘One of the reasons,’ he agreed and took her hand, drawing her into the adjoining bedchamber.
The walls were decorated with a pale duck’s-egg-blue silk paper and the ceiling had a frieze of plaster flowers and leaves, painted in pale pink and green; the large bed was of mahogany with four posts with delicate reeded carving and covered with a quilt of padded satin. The magnificent tallboy and the chests each side of the bed were of polished mahogany and the writing desk before the bow window had a green-leather top tooled with gold. The elbow chair set before it had a green-striped silk seat. It was set with silver accoutrements and a vase of red roses.
‘Beautiful,’ Jane said. She glanced around the room, looking for a door. ‘Where do you sleep?’
‘Here, most of the time, I hope,’ George said, giving her a look that made her heart race as she remembered his passionate loving of the previous night. ‘But my rooms are through here.’
He opened a door that led into a dressing room and through to a bedchamber at the other side. Looking round, Jane saw that the walls were covered with a bluish-green silk paper and the hangings were also green and cream, touched here and there with gilt; all
the furnishings were also of dark mahogany and might have been examples of Mr Chippendale’s work.
‘Yes, I can see you here,’ Jane said and moved towards him, putting her arms about his waist and gazing up into his eyes. ‘You have made a beautiful home for us, George. I shall be so happy living here—and the garden looks perfect for our children.’
‘How many shall we have? A boy for you and a girl for me?’
Jane gurgled with laughter as she leaned into him, offering her lips for his kiss. ‘As many as God sends us,’ she said. ‘I want your babies, my love, as I want you.’
George cupped her buttocks with his hands, holding her pressed against him so that she felt the heat and hardness of his bulging manhood. Her arms were about his neck as they kissed, their tongues tangling in the sweet dance that made her melt with longing. She pressed closer, wanting to be his once more.