Velvet Chains (Historical Romance) (31 page)

"I... yes, now that you mention it. I did think it strange that Molly served the dinner."

"There was a reason for that, Season. I didn't want anyone outside the few who were at the ceremony to know about our marriage. The Reverend Henderson came from Williamsburg, and he doesn't know my family."

"I don't understand the need for all this secrecy."

"I will explain then. When your—our—child is born, he will grow up here on Rosemont. I do not want the slightest hint of scandal attached to his name. As far as the world is concerned he, or she, shall be my child. Will you agree to this?"

"Yes, but—"

"Allow me to finish. The neighbors will be told that you and I were married in New York last spring. We will use the excuse that you were betrothed to my cousin Edmund and we fell in love and married secretly. Everyone likes to hear about heartrending, undeniable love. People will speculate for a time, but after a while they will accept what we tell them as the truth."

"Lucas, I understand why you are doing this and I applaud your kindness, but I hate deception. I am not sure I could ever tell a convincing untruth."

He cupped her face in his hands. "You will, Season. This is for the sake of the child. This child will carry the Carrington name. If the child turns out to be a boy, Rosemont will one day belong to him. If you think about what I have said, I'm sure you will be able to tell a convincing lie when the occasion calls for it."

A tear ran out of the corner of Season's eye and rolled down her cheek. "I believe you are the kindest, dearest man I have ever known. I still cannot believe you are doing this for me."

He laid his face against hers and felt the smoothness of her skin. "Don't give me too much credit, Season. One day you may find out that I am as selfish and deceitful as the next man. Perhaps even more so."

She raised her face and looked at him. "I will never think that of you, Lucas. I may not love you, but I like you more than anyone I know. If you will be satisfied with my high regard and the deep friendship I feel for you, I will be a good wife to you."

"That's a good start. Many marriages have started off with much less."

"I suppose there have been countless numbers of such marriages."

"You have had a long day," he said in a deep voice. "Would you like to retire now?"

Season plucked at the satin trim on her wedding gown. "Do I... is it really necessary for us to sleep together?"

His mouth twitched with amusement. "Yes, I'm afraid we must. We could not very well have the servants spreading the word that the master and mistress of the house sleep apart, could we?"

"The servants all know we slept apart until now."

"That's true, but they will be told, like everyone else, that we were keeping our marriage a secret. They will expect to find you in my bed."

"I have my doubts that we will fool anyone with that story, Lucas."

"Yes, we will. I found out from your father that your capture by The Raven is the best-kept secret in England. The few who know about it in New York won't talk because it makes them look bad. General Clinton doesn't particularly want to look the fool. Colonel and Mrs. Tibbs fear that your father will retaliate against them for not keeping a closer watch on you."

"What about Edmund?"

Lucas smiled at her. "How cleverly you turned the subject away from our sleeping arrangement." Then he surprised her by scooping her up into his arms and carrying her up the stairs.

When he entered his bedroom, he placed Season on her feet. "I believe Molly has moved all your belongings into my bedroom. I am not sure where she put everything, but I have no doubt that if you search you will find what you require."

He turned and left abruptly, leaving Season standing in the middle of the bedroom. Her eyes scanned the large room. It was twice the size of the one she had been occupying. A soft cream and yellow Persian rug lay on the floor, and the bed coverings and curtains were yellow and cream.

She noticed her gown and robe draped across a yellow satin chair and knew Molly must have placed them there for her. She thought it a bit strange that Molly didn't come to her, since it had been her maid's custom to help her undress for bed.

Butterfly wings seemed to be beating in Season's stomach as she removed her wedding gown and pulled the nightdress over her head. To calm herself she picked up the ivory-handled brush on the dressing table and ran it through her hair.

Walking over to the bed, she hesitated. What was she doing here? She was married to a man she didn't know very well. She thought of what her wedding night would have been like had she married Lord Ransford, or even Edmund Kensworthy, and that gave her the courage she needed to climb into bed.

Pulling the covers up to her chin, she waited for Lucas to return. She didn't fear him, but she wasn't ready to perform her wifely duties either.

The air was cool and crisp as Lucas stood on the veranda staring out into the night. For the first time in his life he had come up against a situation that he didn't know how to handle. How could he tell the woman he loved to forget the past and The Raven? He wanted to tell her to look to the future with him. He wasn't at all sure how to approach her. He had never before been at a loss as to how to handle a woman, but his love for Season ran deep. At times it was a wild and uncontrollable passion. But she didn't love him. How would he succeed in erasing The Raven from her heart when she carried his child within her body? He wondered how it was possible for a woman like Season to love a man who had treated her so badly. Was it possible for a woman to love a man whose face she had never seen? Lucas sat down in a cane-bottomed chair and propped his long legs up on the porch railing. It was his wedding night and he was as nervous and unsure as an unshaved youth with his first love. Season was the first woman he had ever loved, and she loved a dark image of a man who had gotten her with child and then abandoned her. Standing up, he entered the house and climbed the stairs slowly, like a man who was going to his own execution.

23

Season had blown out the lamp, so the bedroom was bathed in the soft light of the moon which filtered through the window. She was trying hard to prepare herself mentally for Lucas' return. She kept reminding herself over and over that Lucas was her husband, but it didn't seem to help with her anxiety.

When Season heard the door open, she slid down under the covers and waited tensely. The sounds she heard indicated that Lucas was undressing, but he didn't say a word to her. Finally, when she felt the bed dip under his weight, her stomach muscles tightened into knots.

"Season, relax. For the moment, I want no more than to talk to you."

"I'm…listening." Her body was rigid, and she was anything but relaxed.

He reached over, took her hand, and began gently massaging her fingers. "I have a dilemma, Season; perhaps you can help me with it."

She felt herself begin to relax just a bit. "I will try, Lucas."

"In about a week I have to make a trip to New York. As much as I hate to leave you, it is unavoidable." His hand moved slowly up her arm, and Season shivered at his soft touch.

"I didn't know you would be going away so soon," she said, trying to digest what he was telling her.

"I would take you with me, but that's quite impossible. In your condition, you should be here at Rosemont where you can be taken care of. Besides, I doubt you will be too anxious to face Edmund, just now."

"I don't mind not going. You are right about me not wanting to face Edmund. I would rather remain here, but what is your dilemma?"

"The problem I am faced with is not knowing if you would be angry with me for abandoning you so soon after our wedding. Believe me when I tell you I would much rather be with you than go to New York." He slowly pulled her head over and rested it against his shoulder.

"Of course I will not be angry, Lucas. What kind of a wife would I be if I complained when my husband had to go away on business?"

Lucas ran his hand over her soft hair and wrapped a curl around his finger. "Perhaps I hoped you would be more upset at the thought of being parted from me. That isn't the case though, is it, Season?"

She sighed as his hand drifted down to her chin and traced its outline. "I will be happy to see you when you return, Lucas." Her heart was beginning to beat faster as he pulled her tighter against his hard body.

"Will you, my lady?"

"Yes, of course."

Lucas rested his face against hers and she could feel his warm breath stir her hair. "I will be thinking of you every day we are parted, Season," he whispered against her ear. "I doubt that I shall think of anything but you."

Season felt the warmth of his nearness spread throughout her body. Suddenly she felt that she wasn't good enough for him. Lucas deserved a wife who had never been with another man. She felt as if she were somehow cheating him.

"Lucas, I am so ashamed," she said, burying her face against the mat of curly hair on his chest.

He turned over on his side and drew Season around so their bodies fit snugly together. "Never be ashamed with me, Season. If I find no shame in making love to you, then neither should you."

It felt so good to be in his arms. For the first time in many weeks Season felt cherished. "Does it not matter to you that you were not the first man to…"

He tilted her face up and touched her lips ever so lightly with his mouth. "Nothing matters, my lady, but that you are in my bed and that I am about to make you mine as no other man ever could."

Season couldn't stop the tremor that shook her body as he nuzzled her ear. "After tonight there will be no doubt in your mind as to whom you belong, Season," he whispered against her lips.

"Lucas, how could you want me?" she asked, as his lips moved to the arch of her neck.

"I want you more than I have ever wanted anything. I think you knew it the night of the ball in New York," he murmured against her silken skin. "Did you not sense something between us that night?"

Season smiled as her arms went about his neck. "That night I thought you were so handsome, and I hoped you would turn out to be Edmund Kensworthy. I was devastated when I found out you weren't my intended husband."

He laced his hands through her silken hair and raised her face so the soft moonlight would fall on her. "Were you now? That's very interesting."

She smiled. "I must confess, I thought you were the answer to a young girl's dream of the perfect hero. You are quite the most handsome man I have ever met."

His golden eyes blazed when he realized what they had lost. They had both been drawn to each other that night, but The Raven had stepped in and destroyed what might have been. Lucas knew Edmund would have presented no serious problem. He wondered if Season would have become his bride more willingly had he courted her after that night. Still, there was no reason for regret. After all, Season was now his wife, and he had all the time in the world to woo and win her. But first he wanted to wipe away her memory of The Raven.

"You found another hero after that night didn't you, Season?" he whispered. Lucas watched as her delicate brows came together in a frown.

"Lucas, I am your wife, and I will do for you all the things a wife is supposed to do for her husband, but I do not ever want to discuss The Raven with you. Please do not ask me about him again."

He raised a golden curl to his lips, and the sweet scent caused his senses to reel. "It's just as well, Season. I do not want three people in my marriage bed."

Season felt the sting of his words in the very depth of her heart, and she reached out and touched his face. "There is no one here but you and me, Lucas." The moment the words left her mouth, she remembered the baby she was carrying and knew he was also remembering that fact.

His hand moved down to the ribbon on her nightdress and he untied it slowly. Pushing the gown off her shoulders, his hand then moved over her breasts. "I will make you so thoroughly mine that you won't even remember the time you spent with The Raven," he whispered.

Season felt his lips nibble at the hollow in her neck, and her body came to life. Somewhere deep inside a voice told her Lucas would take what until now had belonged only to The Raven. She fought against that voice. Lucas was her husband; she didn't want her memory of The Raven to haunt her tonight of all nights. Lucas had been kind to her, and she wanted to repay him in the only way she could—if not with her heart, then at least with her body.

As her hands drifted around his shoulders, she remembered the feel of another man's back beneath her fingertips, and when his mouth drifted down to play with the tips of her swollen breasts, she remembered the feel of another man's lips. As he pulled her forward and raised her nightdress over her head, she remembered The Raven performing the same deed.

"Please, Lucas, I cannot!" she cried out. "This is wrong. Please don't force me to do this."

"I will use no force, Season. What I take from you tonight will be freely given," he said, as he rubbed his chin against her face. "Is it wrong because you want me? You do, you know; but you are fighting against it." His hand drifted down to her stomach, and his warm caress sent a tremor through Season's body. "You may deny with words that you want me, Season, but your body will lend the lie to your true feelings. I can so easily make you want me, you know." To demonstrate his point, his hand moved lower to the tangle of hair between her thighs, and he massaged her gently.

Season threw her head back and bit her lips to keep from crying out. The Raven had awakened her body, and she hadn't realized until now that she hungered for the touch of a man's hands. "Lucas, you are making me ... I want to . . ."

With one hand he continued to massage her between the thighs, and with the other he pulled her face up to his. "Say it, Season," he demanded in a hard voice. "Say that you want me."

Her senses were not functioning properly, and her body felt as if it were under the domination of a master at pleasing women. "I want you, Lucas," she whispered, before his mouth settled on hers in a passionate kiss. Season clung to Lucas' shoulders as if they were her lifeline.

She felt, rather than heard, Lucas groan, when she opened her mouth to his plundering tongue. When The Raven had made love to her, it had been dark, and she had never seen his face. Now the room was bathed in soft moonlight, and she could clearly see Lucas' face; still, she couldn't separate the two men in her mind. Both men awakened her body to a passion that surprised her.

Suddenly Lucas seemed to be driven by a strong impulse. He knew Season was fighting against the feelings he had aroused in her body, and he was wildly jealous because she was thinking about The Raven on their wedding night. He wouldn't be satisfied until his name was on her lips.

"Damn you, Season," he ground out between clenched teeth, "I warned you I would never share my wedding bed with another man's ghost." His hands were rough as he pulled her beneath him and spread her legs apart. With a forward thrust, he entered her body and felt her tremble beneath him. He thrust forward and back, making hard frenzied movements, as if by sheer willpower he could drive away the man who stood between them.

Season felt a stabbing pain and wondered why Lucas was being so rough with her. She bit her lip, not wanting to cry out. Burying her face against his shoulder, a sob escaped her lips.

When Lucas realized he was hurting her, he tensed. What devil was driving him? He remembered the child Season carried and gentled his movements. "My sweet, sweet love," he said, sprinkling kisses over her tear-streaked face, "forgive me."

Season was moved to tears by his tender words, for she realized that she must have hurt Lucas by reminding him of her love for The Raven. Reaching up, she touched his face and guided his mouth down to her lips. "Love me, Lucas," she whimpered. "Make me love you."

His smooth gentle movements caused a slow-burning fire deep inside Season. She closed her eyes and allowed the sweet feelings he aroused to wash over her.

"Season, open your eyes," Lucas told her. "I want you to see who is mastering your body. I insist that you look at me!" he commanded.

She gazed directly into passion-laced golden eyes, and there was no doubt in her heart or mind about who was giving her body the pleasure she craved.

"Say my name, Season, so I will be certain you know who is in possession of your body," he whispered.

"Lucas," she answered in a breathless voice. "It is you, Lucas, my husband."

Swiftly, he thrust forward, his body trembled, and Season felt an answering climax within herself.

Lucas rolled onto his back and pulled Season on top of him. He ran his hands over her back and hips. "You are mine, Season. After tonight there will be no ghost between the two of us."

She laid her head against his shoulder. She felt cherished and safe, but she didn't know whether she felt love for this man who seemed to demand it of her. He had given her his name and made her the mistress of Rosemont, he had given her body what she had craved, and all he seemed to ask for in return was her heart— such a simple thing, and yet her heart couldn't be given at will. Deep inside she knew she still loved the father of her child; yet more than anything she wished she could give her heart to the man who had given her his name.

"Go to sleep," Lucas whispered against her ear. "You have had a very emotional day, my little wife."

Season sighed contentedly and closed her eyes. The warmth of his body lulled her. She felt herself drifting off to sleep while Lucas' hands moved soothingly over her back. He seemed to be consoling her as one would a troubled child.

Lucas heard Season's soft breathing and knew she had fallen asleep. Her body was soft against his as he ran his hands over the silken hair that spilled over his chest. Inside him the demon still lurked. He had satisfied Season's hunger tonight, but he knew that a shadow still stood between them. How long will it take me to wipe The Raven from her mind? he wondered. He wasn't certain that he would ever be able to win her heart.

He felt his body awaken again with a burning hunger, but he pushed his need aside. He was very aware of the child Season carried, and he didn't want to do anything that would cause her to lose it. Closing his eyes, he laid his cheek against her sweet-smelling hair. His heart seemed to swell with love, and it was such a new feeling that he didn't know how to deal with it. Season sighed in her sleep, and he kissed her cheek.

"Sleep, little love," he whispered. "Find your forgetfulness in sleep."

Season awoke when Molly entered the room and pulled the heavy curtains aside to let bright sunlight stream into the bedroom.

"You had best be up and about, my lady. Mistress Carrington's fluttering about and declaring there's going to be another wedding in this house today."

Season sat up and blinked her eyes. "Has Robert Wolf returned from Philadelphia?"

"Yes, and Mistress Carrington will be needing your assistance to make all the preparations. I don't know what this world's coming to with two weddings taking place in such a short time." Molly gave Season a guarded glance. "How does Mr. Carrington feel about the baby you are carrying, my lady?"