Bride Enchanted (7 page)

The carriage drove to the front of the house, and stopped. An assemblage of servants stood waiting there. Aubrey smiled, and sat up.

“Welcome, my lady,” he said, “to our home.”

Before she could answer, he bent, scooped her up in his arms, and carried her out of the carriage. He waited a moment with her held high in his arms, looking at the assembly in front of the house. “My bride,” he announced with pride. “Your lady.”

Eve was charmed. The estate looked to be as unique, beautiful, and different as was her new husband. “I'll take you on a brief tour,” he said after he'd introduced her to his servants. “We have things here that were accumulated over the centuries. It will take almost that for you to see it all, but there are some things I thought you'd like to see now.”

She thought that some of his servants might also have been relics collected by his ancestors, and smiled to herself. But they all seemed happy to see her, and as polite as she could wish. So she took his arm, and followed him through the house.

What first struck her eye was the huge dome over the entry she'd set foot into. It covered the high ceiling the way murals and frescoes did in other great houses. But instead of painted clouds, or lofty pagan gods or dancing cherubs, she saw the sky itself. She saw the darker clouds of the coming night high above her, a slice of a new moon, and the first far off glints of early stars pecking holes in the purpling sky.

“In the daytime, it's even more impressive,” Aubrey said, watching her face as she looked upward. “You'd think it would get hot under the dome during the summer. It might in any other clime. But this is England, and so that's rare. It
wouldn't matter if it blazed. My people love the light of sun or moon.”

“It is magnificent,” she said. “I seldom see sky so clearly even when I'm out of doors. Is it the height, or the curve of the glass? It must be terrifying in a storm.”

“Terrifying? Maybe, at first. Later, you'll find that lightning decorates the hall for us. You'll become used to it. Now let's go on, there's too much to see in an hour, or a day. But I want to show you some of your home before you grow too weary.”

The downstairs rooms connected each to each and led in a path through the house. Aubrey took Eve through rooms where Elizabethan chests stood next to twelfth-century ones, where ancient hand-hewn high-back chairs surrounded intricately carved inlaid wooden tables. There were spindly Chinese consoles of modern design, and massive wooden chairs that looked as though they'd be perfect in a hall of ancient kings. The walls held pennants from bygone wars and murals of modern design, all that lacked was martial body armor. Yet somehow, some way, it all fit together. It was a history of England, all ajumble, and all equally prized.

She gaped. “Your ancestors were like magpies,” she finally breathed. “But magpies with good taste.”

He bowed. “Thank you.”

“Where are the family portraits?” she asked, suddenly realizing that though she'd seen landscapes and portraits of flowers, horses, and haystacks, she hadn't seen what most great houses held: a corridor of ancestors.

“We weren't vain,” he said briefly. “Look at the shadows! It's time for dinner. I'll show you upstairs to your chamber, and then we'll dine.”

“My chamber?” she asked, stopping in her tracks. “You'll live elsewhere?”

He looked down at her. “I have my bedchamber, of course,” he said.

“I wish you didn't,” she blurted. “That is, I ought to have mentioned it before. I didn't expect…I don't want to be alone.”

He stared at her, consideringly. His lips quirked. “You're saying you wouldn't have married me if you'd known we'd have separate bedchambers? Most of the
ton
does, you know. People in highest Society always have, for ages. When this place was built—and that was so long ago no one quite remembers when the first stone was laid down—there were the master's quarters, and his wife's, just as the ancient kings and queens had it. But don't worry. We'll share part of the night, of course,” he added, smiling.

She looked down as her heart sank. The house
was huge, and he'd be far from her through all their nights. The size of the place wasn't really the point. When he was beside her, she questioned nothing. Long nights apart would surely feed her doubts about this hasty union. She couldn't tell him that, it would be insulting. Besides, she wanted to be near him day and night. Especially night.

“You want to change that tradition?” he asked softly.

“I didn't know about that tradition.”

He looked bemused, then shrugged. “You're very different from any female I've known. Or any that has ever lived here, in fact. But that's why I chose you for my bride. Very well. Off with the old. It's time for something new. I'll have your night things moved into my chamber, or mine into yours. There's a connecting door, it won't be that much work or take that much time. Just decide where we'll sleep and there we will always sleep together. Come, I'll show you both rooms, and you decide.”

He offered her his arm.

She took it, and stepped more confidently into her new life with him. She'd won a small point. It boded well.

He led her to the stair, and looked down at her, smiling slightly. She'd managed to surprise
him. She was changing things here, things that no woman had ever thought of doing. That boded very well for him; it lifted his spirits, and made him hope, once again, that this time, he'd made the right choice.

S
he woke to a kiss, a light warm velvety touch on her lips. Her eyelashes fluttered open. She saw a pair of soft brown eyes smiling into hers, and she felt like a girl in a fairy story.

Then Eve realized who she was, where she was, and who he was, and she flung her arms around his neck. “Good morning,” she said with joy.

Aubrey smiled, but backed away.

She dropped her arms, her eyes widening. She put a hand in front of her mouth, remembering she hadn't yet rinsed her mouth or brushed her teeth.

He laughed. “No, your breath is as sweet as the morning breezes, but this morning we have things to do. We have the night to come for loving,” he said in a gentler voice, “and all the nights to come, after that. But
this
morning,” he said, as he straightened to stand beside the bed, “you have to see more, learn more about this hall and the
lands around it. I don't want you wandering out and getting lost a foot from home. Tonight,” he added, touching her nose with one finger, “is also the night of a full moon. Very propitious. Now, breakfast with me?”

She realized he was fully dressed, and very fine looking even in casual garb. He wore a blue jacket, a light gold waistcoat, white linen with a carelessly tied neckcloth that looked so well it might become the latest fashion. As he walked to the door, she saw he also wore brown breeches and high brown boots.

“I'll get up and dressed in a moment,” she cried, flinging back the bedcovers.

“Don't rush, I'll wait for you. I'm sending a maid in to help you. If you like her, she's yours.”

She laughed. “I hope you don't really mean that. I don't want a slave, but a good maid would be just the thing.”

“She says she's never been a lady's maid before,” he said. “I think she was a dairy maid before. But she's certainly anxious to please.”

So she was. Betty was plump and strong, wore her hair skinned back into a crown of braids, and looked like she was well used to working with cattle. But she was so eager to please that Eve was charmed. Betty didn't know that silence was a hallmark of her new trade either, and so Eve
learned a lot about her new home while getting dressed. Betty babbled incessantly as she helped Eve pick out a gown to wear, and helped to do her hair. Eve didn't have the heart to silence her. She stopped listening after a while. But then something caught her attention.

“…And a tight crew they are here, ma'am,” Betty was saying as she brushed Eve's hair. “Right friendly, but thick as thieves 'cause they been together for ages. Didn't have no one to use as a lady's maid, though, and no one else young enough to help you, so here I am. I hope I please you. Some girls didn't want to work here. I s'pect it's because there ain't many young people about. But I already have a fellow in mind, and I need a dowry. Now, the master's mother was a real lady, and she had a real lady's maid, but they both went abroad and never came back. Since there wasn't no need for another lady's maid before you came, they put word out into the village, and down through the crofts, and here I be. Don't that look fine, though? You're so lucky to have such curly hair, ma'am, it's a treat.”

“Mr. Ashford's mother was a real lady?” Eve asked curiously.

“Oh, to her fingertips, or so they say. You are too, 'course, ma'am, but there's ladies and ladies, y'know. She acted just like one. I never saw her
'cause I weren't born yet. She was high in the instep; she didn't have a kind word for no one, and kept to herself. She was stately, she was, beautiful as she could stare, so say all. It were a great pity, all said, that she couldn't have a babe. But when she got older, Mr. Ashford's father, he took her to Italy, or somewheres abroad for her health. And lo and behold, but she has a baby after all, and after all that time. 'Course it wrecked her health, and she never come back. Mr. Ashford's father, he took it that hard, he never returned neither.

“But here's our new master and if he ain't the spit and image of his father—'cept'n one was fair as an angel and the other's dark as a handsome devil, pardon me saying so—I ain't standing here, and so says all. And what a sight he is, if you don't mind me saying, ma'am. Anything else you want me to do?” she asked, as she put down the hair-brush.

“I think the housekeeper must tell you the rest. I have to go meet my husband now,” Eve said. “Thank you, that will be all for now.” She took one last look at herself in the glass. She wasn't a stately beauty, but he knew that. And she looked about as good as she could in her newest green gown. She hurried down the stairs to meet her husband.

Betty was right; he was a sight to see.

But Eve just went to him and kissed him good
morning, as though she'd been greeting monstrously handsome gentlemen every morning of her life.

After they breakfasted, they walked down winding green paths beneath ancient trees. They strolled beside babbling streams that made bright music to compete with the birdsongs above them, and walked through sunny meadows busy with butterflies and bees. There was a pond filled with lilies and carp, and a lake in the distance. Aubrey's estate was beautiful, but in time an enchanted Eve noticed that though it was undeniably magnificent, it had no formal gardens, no rose arbors, no iron gates, mazes, classic statues, Roman fountains, or any of the other usual accouterments to a great house. She asked Aubrey about it.

“You think we should have some?” he asked in return.

“I don't think they fit here,” she said. Then she held out her arms for balance as she stepped behind him, toe to heel, across a fallen log that bridged a sparkling stream. “There,” she said, when they reached the other side. “That was fun. I haven't done that for years. What would you have done if I'd fallen in?”

“Considering that it's only about four inches deep here, I think I'd have laughed,” he said, sitting down on the grassy bank.

She laughed, and sat beside him. “This place
is
magical,” she said, looking up at the lacy canopy of willows above her. “Untouched. I only asked because most English aristocrats start with houses that are like yours, I suppose. Or else they're Elizabethan, medieval, or actual castles or such. Then they make their houses Roman or Grecian or into the latest fad. Speaking of that, lately they fill their grounds with artificial nature, to try to look as yours do now.”

“Ours,” he corrected her.

“Ours then. But did you know the lengths they go to? Some even have man-made hermit's grottoes. I actually saw one once. All fitted out with a cave. And a specially hired hermit, all beard and bushy eyebrows. When guests were led by on a tour, he'd poke his nose out and scowl at them.” She grinned. “Actually, the poor fellow was always sneaking down to the local pub when he thought no one would notice.”

“Disappointed because I haven't a hermit, much less a grotto?”

She cocked her head to the side. “No, not at all. But surprised? Yes. It's rare to find such a beautiful place, untouched. Or seemingly so.”

He looked into the far distance. She watched as the dappled sunlight played with his hair, making it gleam like moonbeams were in it. “We
never added anything to disturb the place. As I said, I think this was how England looked long, long ago.”

“Have you any Druid grottos then?” she asked whimsically.

His expression grew cold. “No. And they wouldn't be satisfied with a grotto, they wanted everything. They weren't a pleasant people. They crushed all who opposed them, even as the Romans crushed them.”

She stared at him. “Are there any more of them around?”

He turned his head to her. “No, they're long gone. Why do you ask? Are you worried?”

“I worried at the look on your face. Why do you hate them so?”

He laughed, and stood up, offering her his hand. “I heard about them from my father, who heard from his father and so on. It's an old story in my family.”

“Tell me about your family,” she said as she rose.

“I have. I did. There isn't much more to tell. We're not prolific. One or two children at most a generation for generations now. So it's up to us to change things.”

“Shall we have a hundred or two hundred babies then?” she asked as she fell into step beside him.

“And that,” he said, stopping to kiss her, “is
why I love you so. Not just for this, but for the laughter. I need that.”

Dinner was magnificent. Aubrey said so, and complimented his cook. Eve thought so too, but then, she would have found any food taken in his presence to be delicious. She was, she realized, falling more in love with her new husband by the minute. She wondered if this was true of all new brides. She doubted it. Aubrey was the most handsome, intelligent, and kind groom any female could want. And he knew so much. Had she known a particle of that before, she'd have married him even sooner.

As they'd walked and talked, she realized that he knew the names of every plant, from the merest mosses to the tallest trees. He knew the birds, the animals whose tracks they saw, and having seen so much of the world, he knew which ones were to be found only in England. And which could be only found on his grounds at Far Isle.

He knew great literature and the men and women who had written it, so well it was as though he'd actually known those authors from so long ago. And best of all, he knew about her: her moods, her fears, her joys. When he looked at her she could feel it to her marrow.

By the time the sun had set, and she'd played the pianoforte in his music room, Aubrey accom
panying her in his low, strong tenor, she was so in love and in lust that she shocked herself.

She sat back as the song ended, and felt a soft kiss on her ear. She turned her head, and he sat beside her on the piano bench. He slid a hand around her waist and pulled her close, and kissed her properly, and then, she thought with pleasure, very improperly too.

He ran his lips alongside her neck, and she shivered.

“It's early, but I think it might be time for bed,” he said quietly.

“Oh, yes,” she said.

He rose, lifting her in his arms. She squeaked with surprise.

“Think I'll drop you?” he asked.

“Well, I think it's possible,” she said.

“Then hold on tight,” he said, and walked out of the salon to the long stair, and from there, down the hallway to their room. She clung to him, and reveled in how light she felt in his arms, how right she felt in his embrace.

“I dismissed your maid hours ago,” he said, as he entered their room and kicked the door shut behind them. “Do you mind?”

“Mind?” she managed to say as they sank to the bed together. “Mind what?”

He laughed. But there was no gloating his tone,
and nothing but love in his eyes. The fashion was for light gowns, and no stays or corsets. He had her gown off in moments, with her help. He sat, for a moment, looking at her naked form. She wished, in that moment, that she had something more to show him. And without knowing she did so, she raised her hand to cover her breasts. He took her hand down and held it gently in his own and looked at her.

“Perfect,” he said.

“Well, smallish,” she said in a low voice.

“Perfect,” he said again, cupping one in his hand. “Tilted and firm, and lovely. You are so lovely,” he said, lowering his mouth to her breast.

She shivered, and opened her eyes. “Thank you. And you are so…dressed,” she said with a touch of uneasiness.

He laughed, and sat back. “True. You wish it to be otherwise?”

“Well, of course,” she said. And then she blinked. “Shouldn't I?”

“Some women do not—Forgive me, I shouldn't mention any other women now.”

“Well, if I'd done this before, I'd certainly be comparing, in my mind, of course,” she added fastidiously.

He shook his head as he began to remove his jacket. “My level-headed Eve. You astonish me.”

“A great many?” she asked in a smaller voice, as he shucked off his waistcoat to follow his jacket.

“A great many what?” he asked as his head emerged from his shirt.

She was so busy looking at his chest she almost couldn't answer. His body was contoured like that of the statues of ancient Greek gods that she'd seen in the new museum in London. “A great many lovers,” she murmured absently, watching as he removed his boots, and then stood to remove his breeches.

His hands halted on the buttons on the fall of his breeches. “Would it matter?”

“I'd like to know. But if it isn't done, never mind,” she said, suddenly horribly embarrassed by her lack of knowledge of what to expect, as well as what was wrong or right to ask him.

“Anything we do is done,” he said. “Yes. A great many. But I have no diseases, if that's worrying you.”

She raised a hand to brush his words away. “No. I know you too well to expect that. You're too honorable to surprise me with that.”

He looked, in that instant, pained.

“I shouldn't be talking about this at all, I know, I know,” she said in an agony of discomfit, scooping the coverlet up to cover her, and lowering her head to her bent knees.

There was silence and then she felt the mattress tick move as he sat on the bed beside her. “You may ask me anything,” he said, his hand brushing back her curls from her forehead. “I can only tell you the truth.”

“Then, I know I asked once before, I must know, did you…ever love anyone like this before?” she asked in a rush.

“Love anyone like this before? No,” he said, against her ear. “To my sorrow and to my woe, no. And in all truth this is so. I vow it.”

She raised her heated face, and she was beaming. “What a fool I am,” she said, and came into his arms.

“Never,” he said, as he gently lay her down against a pillow. “Never,” he said as he joined her there.