The Wife He Always Wanted (8 page)

Still, despite her annoyance, her heart did flutter . . . just a little . . . when she touched his skin.

Lud, more than a little. There was much to admire.

“It was very rude of you to worry me and your mother when you did not come home.” Sarah wasn’t sure Lady Seymour was worried about her wayward son, but she thought added guilt would be just punishment for his lack of consideration. “For all we knew, you were dead in an alley somewhere with your pockets picked and a knife protruding from your chest.”

He lifted his face and stared at her through one open eye. “If I tell you about my evening, will you cease speaking so loudly? The shrillness of your voice is causing a headache.”

Shrill? Her modulated tone was anything but. However, knowing he suffered for his evening of drinking and debauchery left her highly amused. “I promise.”

The valet finished stripping him and helped him into the bath while Sarah turned her eyes away. A bare chest she could manage. Anything hidden by breeches pushed the edge of what she could handle at the moment.

Benning handed Gabriel a brandy, which was gladly received. Sarah waited until Gabriel settled in the water before dismissing the valet and pulling a chair up beside the bath.

Gabriel groaned, leaned back, and closed his eyes.

“Your story, please,” she said.

Thus began a tale of meeting old friends at White’s followed by drinking, a trip down to the docks for more drinking, and a scuffle with a trio of merchants just arrived from Venice.

“I think Lord Pickering, Mister Crowell, and I slept the rest of the evening and most of today in the parlor at Collingwood House. How we got there, I do not know. I awoke an hour ago to the face of my very annoyed new cousin, the duchess, staring down at me. She ordered her footmen to drag us out, put us into her coach, and drop us off at our respective homes. Otherwise, I remember little after the scuffle with the merchants.”

Merchants from Venice? She rubbed her temple. At least there was no mention of women in this tale of woe.

Sarah sighed and slipped off the chair. She collected the soap and moved behind him. He did not protest when she ran her hands through his silky, albeit dirty, hair. She picked out and flicked away a piece of ash and a leaf from the tangles.

His hair was very soft.

“If you expect sympathy from me, you have none.” Lifting a pitcher, she poured the water over his head. He rubbed his eyes. “However, I cannot fault you for an evening of mischief with your friends. You’ve been gone from London for a very long time.”

He groaned again. “You promised no speaking.”

Sarah laughed softly. As silent as a mute, she pushed up her sleeves, washed his hair, and scrubbed his shoulders and upper back, leaving anything below the waterline to him.

The intimacy of the bath made her feel closer to him. Every part of her was aware of his nakedness, mostly her private areas. Despite her innocent mind, her body reacted to him in an ancient and primitive way.

How she managed this simple wifely duty, she wasn’t certain. Her eyes were preoccupied by a spattering of faint freckles on his broad and sun-kissed shoulders and the way his warm and supple skin felt beneath her hands.

Her husband
was
a magnificent male specimen. Her mind drifted to Noelle and Mister Blackwell’s kiss, and a bit of naughtiness welled inside her.

How could one not be naughty with a man like Gabriel naked in the tub at her knees? Now, their wedding vows made taking liberties acceptable.

There was no time like now to try her latest lesson.

“I shall leave you to your bath.” She moved to his side, leaned down, cupped his chin in her hand, and gave him a somewhat chaste, yet lingering kiss on his firm mouth.

Tingles spilled over her skin. He tasted of brandy and maleness, a most pleasing combination. When she lifted her head, his eyes were wide and puzzled. She smiled and straightened, having given him something to ponder. “Sleep well.”

Without a glance back to gage his reaction to her boldness, she left him to finish his bath.

* * *

G
abriel’s cock jerked to attention beneath the sudsy water. Well, from attentive to steely hard. Her hands on his bare skin had aroused him. The kiss had snapped him to attention. Sarah, his country mouse, had kissed him full on the mouth; a surprising turn, indeed.

What had Noelle done to his timid wife? He suspected she was the culprit, as it was her that Sarah most admired.

No matter the source of the change. He reached up to touch a wet fingertip to his lips. After a night of male companionship and too much cheap ale, he’d found that he enjoyed the sweet taste of her lips mixed with her ever-present orchid scent. Had she not left him in a stunned state, he would have enjoyed tasting other parts of her, starting at her perfect breasts.

Painfully aroused now, he leaned back and examined the ceiling. Had he waited too long to attempt to seduce his wife again? Was her kiss an invitation to come to her bed, or only the curiosity of a sheltered virgin?

Certainly she would not have kissed him had she not wanted his attention. Correct? His ale-soaked brain was certain she was ripe for seduction. His body agreed.

Intrigued, he hurried through his bath and donned a robe. He peered into the empty hallway and padded barefoot to her door. Without knocking, he pushed inside . . . to find the room empty.

Disappointment was his reward. She wasn’t waiting for him wearing nothing but a sheet and a welcoming smile. In fact, there was no indication that she wanted him to ravish her at all. The minx had left him to suffer.

Damn. The kiss had been merely a kiss.

His cock was equally disappointed at the downward turn of events. With a frustrated groan, he padded back to his room, climbed into bed, and fell into a restless sleep.

* * *

S
arah stepped from the shadows, having seen Gabriel exit her room. She took satisfaction that her drunken husband had not had the chance to seduce her. As if she’d allow it! Despite the sweet kiss, she was still annoyed. She was not yet his cherished wife, but she was not to be dismissed as inconsequential either.

Clearly, her attempt to use the kiss lesson had stirred him enough to seek her out; a success by all accounts.

Thankfully, she’d gone downstairs to collect a book and he’d missed his opportunity. The oaf. When—and if—they finally shared intimacies, it would not be while he was under the lingering effects of ale.

Sarah could not wait to tell Noelle of her coup. She’d won a battle for her husband’s attention and had herself found some pleasure in the kiss.

If kissing was pleasurable, as she’d glimpsed twice now, then perhaps she’d find other aspects of her marriage pleasurable, too. Could she grow to love Gabriel and he love her in return? The idea of being loved by such a man made her heart beat a little faster.

Noelle’s lesson about confidence worked its way into her thoughts. With the right information and her lessons, she
could
entice her husband, and perhaps make him love her; if only just a little bit.

Yes, she could do this. Away from the cottage, she was changing, growing confident. Although she still had much to learn, her future no longer looked dismal.

A slow smile crossed her lips. With Noelle to coach her on the ways of men, she might actually win some affection from her husband, perhaps more. Gabriel wouldn’t realize he was hooked until it was too late.

Chapter Seven

T
hrough dinner that evening, Sarah was cool and polite to her husband, as if she’d already forgotten the kiss. He should not get too confident in his charms, she thought. Let him believe she’d not been enticed by his lips in the least.

Gabriel, on the other hand, appeared to struggle with a headache. His red eyes bespoke his misery better than words, and his surly grumbling was tempered only by his mother’s frown. The countess, knowing of his adventure, avoided pressing him to join the conversation and allowed him to suffer in peace.

Sarah found his condition both pitying and amusing. She ate her dinner while covertly watching Gabriel from under her lashes.

She’d hoped he’d notice her new green frock. Her hope fell flat. He was too unhappy to notice much of anything. She bit back a sigh. Gabriel himself was proving to be the largest barrier to her attempts to make a success of their marriage.

“Please bring my son a glass of brandy and a headache powder,” Lord Seymour finally said, after Gabriel growled at a maid. The nearest servant went off to do his bidding. “Next time you’re in this state, we will have a tray sent to your room.”

“Next time I am in this state, shoot and bury me.”

The countess brushed her napkin over her lips. “The headache is your curse for imbibing too much. Perhaps next time you will find another way to celebrate with friends.”

“I understand eating ground glass is all the rage,” Sarah snipped. “Or dosing oneself with poison.”

The dark glare he showed was not amused. “If my family wasn’t so disagreeable, I would not have to drink.” His focus was on Sarah. She refused to flinch at his angry tone.

“You worried her,” Lady Seymour snapped. “You worried me.”

“I should have stayed in America,” he grumbled. “The women there are less querulous.”

A hand slammed down on the table. Lord Seymour pushed halfway up from the chair. “I’ll not have you take out your sour mood on your mother and wife. Apologize to them.”

Gabriel winced under his father’s thunderous tone. “I apologize, Mother, Sarah.”

Lord Seymour settled back in his seat. Silence fell but for the clink of silver against plates. After a few minutes, the earl turned to Sarah.

“You’ve been spending a fair amount of time with Noelle of late,” Lord Seymour said. He lifted his wineglass and peered over the rim.

“I have.” Sarah nodded. “We’ve become friends and she is an excellent teacher. I will have her, and Lady Seymour, to thank if I make my debut into society without tripping over my hem while dancing or insulting a duchess by calling her merely ‘My Lady.’”

She shared a smile with the countess.

“You must take care, Wife,” Gabriel broke in. “Noelle is a mischief-maker and prankster. She may get you into trouble with her ‘lessons.’”

“Noelle is very kind,” Sarah countered sharply. She’d had enough of his surly disposition for one day. “She has been nothing but generous with her time and experience. It is not easy changing a country mouse into a swan. You should be grateful for her assistance.” She dropped her napkin on the table. She smiled at Lord and Lady Seymour. “If you will excuse me, I feel my own headache coming on.”

* * *

A
bolt of pain shot a path behind his eyes. He grimaced as he watched his wife stalk from the room. He’d not meant to ruffle Sarah’s feathers, and he’d done so twice. Nor did he mean to insult his cousin.

Well, yes to insulting Noelle.

To his defense, Noelle
was
troublesome, though it was not entirely negative. Of his many cousins, she’d been the most fun. If there’d been mischief to be made, she was always at the center of the whirl.

“I just wanted to warn Sarah lest she be at the receiving end of a prank,” he muttered under his mother’s scathing frown.

“You might consider the work Sarah is putting into becoming a wife you can be proud of, and compliment her a time or two, instead of grumbling over her friendship with Noelle,” Father said. “Though, I think she needs no polishing. I find your wife an excellent addition to the family.”

Mother glared. “How you managed to find such a jewel, and convince her to marry you in a rush, is beyond comprehension. And clearly you’ve lost your manners while you were away. Perhaps Noelle should take
you
under her wing and teach you how to be a better husband.”

Gabe stared from one parent to the other and held up his hands, palms open. “You needn’t defend Sarah to me. I, too, find her of the first order.” He sighed. “As for Noelle, I adore the termagant, and appreciate her friendship with my wife.”

“Then perhaps you should spend more time with Sarah and less time chasing your own interests,” Mother scolded. “She deserves your full attention.”

“I agree,” Father said. “She is withering for the lack of sun, holed up in this town house as she’s been. You need to take her out, lavish some attentiveness upon her, and be an engaged husband.”

Scowling, Gabe nodded. It felt like a vise squeezed his head. “I will do my duties by my wife. Now can we please end this verbal battering? I will apologize, again, to Sarah.”

With their lecture twisting through his pained head, he excused himself and went to seek out his wife. He found her curled up on the settee, in her sitting room, with a book clutched in her hands.

She made a pretty picture in the flickering lamplight, though she could use some color on her cheeks.

His parents were correct. There
was
a bit of withering. He
had
been neglectful. He’d spent more time getting soused with his friends last evening than he’d spent with her during the entirety of their marriage. It
was
time to court his wife, outside of his plans to seduce her.

“Is there something you require, Gabriel?” she asked, lowering the book. She clutched it tightly to her chest. Perhaps she was considering throwing it at his head.

“I believe I owe you a more heartfelt apology. I was a dreadful dinner companion.”

“On that, we agree.”

“Rather than subject you all to my condition, I should have stayed in my room and wallowed in my self-pity alone.”

“Again, I agree.”

Despite his headache, she made him smile. There was much to like about his wife. His gaze flicked quickly to her modest bodice and back up again. The gentle swell of cleavage above lace caused him to falter slightly and forget why he’d sought her out. He cleared his throat to regain focus.

“Now that I’ve been forgiven, I’d like to ask you to go driving with me tomorrow morning,” he said. “The park is lovely at sunrise.”

He knew she was an early riser and would not be put off by the request. Whether she’d want to take an outing with him or not was another matter.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if she were pondering his request, or perhaps deciding if she wanted his company at all. He’d not blame her if she refused. He’d been a dreadful boor at dinner. Thankfully, a small smile appeared.

“I think a drive would be lovely.” With that, she lifted her book and soundly dismissed him.

The image reminded him of the moment in the coach when he tossed her book out the window. He suspected that she was sharing the same memory. There was light in her eyes.

“Tomorrow, then.” His headache began to ease, and he whistled as he left her to her reading. As he cleared the door to her bedroom and stepped into the hallway, he was almost certain he heard a hint of muffled laughter.

* * *

T
he streets were quiet as Gabriel and Sarah drove along, with only an occasional servant about her duties to witness their passage through Mayfair.

Rain from last evening still dotted the street with puddles and gave the air a damp feel. Fortunately, the clouds had dispersed and left the morning clear for their drive. By the time they reached Hyde Park the sun had already taken hold of the dawn and scattered pink and orange across the muted gray blue horizon.

“It’s unfortunate the grass is still wet,” Gabriel said. “We could walk by the river.”

“Ladies are not to soil their hems by walking on wet grass or through rain puddles,” Sarah said in her best and haughtiest voice. “Or so the countess said.”

Gabriel chuckled. “My mother and Noelle have made it their duty to teach you how to be a Lady, but I ask that you keep some of shy Sarah in you, too. I liked my country mouse.”

Sarah warmed beneath her cloak with the compliment and did not take offense at his choice of words. The title of country mouse had been hers when speaking of herself. And she knew he meant no insult by its usage.

“Training will only polish my edges. My aunt did her best, but she never spent time in society either,” she said. “I lived half my life in that little cottage. It is part of me.”

“Good.” He flicked the reins. “Too much polish ruins many an otherwise perfectly acceptable society miss.”

They found a quiet path and weaved their way through the park. Sarah was surprised to find such an unspoiled sanctuary inside the bustling city.

She smiled and drew in a deep breath. “You were correct. It is beautiful here.” She felt his attention on her and lifted her gaze. He was not admiring the sunrise but looking at her with something akin to curiosity in his eyes.

Under his attention, she clasped her gloved hands together to keep them from trembling as her confidence slipped away.

“London is home to several parks,” he said softly. “We can visit them all if you’d like.”

“I’d like that very much,” she replied. Her charming husband had returned. “I cannot believe how much I miss open fields and cows grazing unfettered across the landscape.”

He flicked the reins again. “I cannot promise you cows, but I hope you find London satisfactory. I know it can be crowded and loud, but it does have its amusements.”

“I do enjoy the city, though it takes some getting used to.” She watched a large bird fly across the path. “Remember, I was born here. London is part of my history.”

Gabriel nodded. “Excellent. I want you to be happy, Sarah.”

They fell into a companionable silence while she considered her answer. She was happy with some parts of her life and not so certain about others, Gabriel being first on that list. But she did have hope.

“I desire the same.” She met his eyes. “For both of us.”

Gabriel pulled the horse to a stop beneath a large oak tree. He set the brake and half turned in the seat to face her. Muted sunlight danced between the leaves.

He was so very close. So very handsome.

Had they been courting, Sarah might have found the moment romantic. Lud, it
was
romantic.

“Is that the Serpentine?” she asked, her voice husky as she glanced toward the river to collect herself.

“It is,” Gabriel said, his leg shifting slightly until it brushed her thigh. The contact, whether intentional or accidental, caused her to tense. The uncertainty of her feelings for him warred with the puzzling way her body reacted to his touch. It was as if she were two Sarahs. Neither was entirely comfortable with this one husband.

“Have I told you how fetching you are this morning?” He did not look down at her cream cotton day dress nor her stylish new matching hat. No, he was staring at her mouth.

“You have not,” she said, breathless. He leaned forward and she did the same. He was going to kiss her!

“Ho, Harrington!” The voice startled them apart. Both Gabriel and Sarah twisted to see a man and woman come up behind them on the path. The pair was seated atop a set of fine horses.

“Who is it?” Sarah whispered.

“The Duke and Duchess Stanfield.”

Sarah had no time to register the names when the couple pulled to a stop beside the carriage. Up close, they were a handsome couple. The duchess’s amber eyes bespoke her identity. She was somehow related to Noelle, and a Harrington.

“Your Graces.” Gabriel tipped his hat to the duchess, before indicating the duke. “It has been a long time, Your Grace.”

“It’s been years, Harrington,” His Grace replied. Both the duke and duchess glanced at Sarah. They were not surprised to see her with Gabriel. Noelle most likely had told them all about her and how she and Gabriel met and married.

Gabriel introduced them.

“My pleasure, Your Graces,” Sarah said. She knew the pair were Harrington cousins, in some fashion, and that Noelle was particularly close to the duchess. How close, Noelle had yet to confide, but she suspected there was an interesting story behind their kinship. As a new member of the family, Sarah had yet to learn all their secrets.

“We have heard all about you, Mrs. Harrington,” Her Grace said. Her hair framed her smiling face. She was beautiful, no less so than her husband. He was quite handsome. The Harrington women had excellent taste in spouses. “Noelle has spoken highly of you.”

The duchess cast a narrowed glance at Gabriel. “I see you have recovered from your . . . illness, Mister Harrington. I hope your friends have done the same.”

Sarah pressed a hand to her lips to hide a smile, while the duchess took Gabriel to task for his drunken and unwelcome arrival at her door.

Smiling sheepishly, Gabriel nodded. “Once again, I do apologize for my behavior. I truly have no idea how I ended up at Collingwood House.”