Passion and Propriety (Hearts of Honour Book 1) (28 page)

“Oh dear, I’ve hurt you. I’m too heavy.”

“You’re not too heavy.” His right hand cupped her cheek as he looked at her with sorrow-filled eyes. “But we can’t continue. It’s too dangerous.”

“It will be all right,” she said, but her tone lacked confidence.

“I’m sorry, my darling.”

It was the first time he’d used such an endearment, and tears filled her eyes.

“Please, don’t cry.” His features twisted with anguish.

“But I want a
real
marriage. With you.”

William let his forehead drop to rest against hers.

“You know that can’t happen. We decided.”

“
You
decided,” Hannah said, and he raised his head. “I said from the beginning I thought the curse could be broken.”

“You didn’t argue with me when I said it couldn’t.” He frowned. “Was this your plan all along? To try and change my mind
after
we were married?”

“No,” she said, but without much force. “Maybe.” Her shoulders slumped. “I hoped Papa could convince you otherwise. His reasoning is sound.”

Embarrassed to have been caught out, Hannah lifted herself from William’s lap and returned to her side of the bed. He let her go, and she half expected him to get up and leave.

“Hannah?” He reached to clasp the hand that had fallen into her lap. “Will you look at me?”

Reluctantly she did as he asked.

“Please don’t feel bad. Your father’s arguments are very compelling. He’s a man of undeniable faith and reason . . .”

“But?”

“But we’re talking about your
life.
If he’s wrong—if I fail in my part—you would
die.
”

“People die all the time, William.” She moved back onto her knees, bringing herself a little closer. “You could have died from any one of your wounds. The fact you’re alive today is a miracle.”

“That’s different,” he said. “To deliberately put you in harm’s way would be unconscionable.”

“The risk would be minimal.”

“Would it?” He raised his brows. “Your father couldn’t
guarantee
the curse is broken, not even after all we’ve done to address it.”

“That’s because life doesn’t come with guarantees,” Hannah said, hoping to win him over but fearing she was fighting a losing battle. “You’re right. I can’t promise you I won’t die in childbirth. Many women do. But you can’t promise me you won’t be killed in a riding accident or when you’re inspecting one of your mines, or for any number of reasons. I pray it doesn’t happen, but we can’t guarantee either one of us won’t be carried away by an accident or illness. That shouldn’t stop us from living in the meantime.”

William withdrew his hand. “You would risk leaving me to raise our newborn son alone?”

There was no denying the bitterness in his tone, and Hannah wondered how to proceed.

“My hope would be for us to raise our children together. Can you promise me you will not leave me a widow?”

William groaned and ran his hand through the hair she had already tousled.

“I should go.”

He stood abruptly, and she wrapped her arms around her knees, tucking them against her chest.

“So that’s it, then? Your decision is final?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I need time to think.”

“I understand.” Hannah’s voice caught on a sob, and she hid her face against her knees. William was a man of honour. He would never betray his scruples, not if he thought there was the slightest chance doing so would put her life in danger.

“Sweetheart, please don’t.” The bed dipped as he sat beside her and drew her into his embrace.

Hannah didn’t cry easily, but it had been a long day, one in which she’d run the full gamut of emotions. Allowing herself the indulgence, she wept against William’s shoulder while he stroked her back.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured when speech was possible.

“You have nothing to apologise for.”

“I tried to seduce you,” she admitted with a half-laugh, half-sob. “You must think me a fool.”

“I’m honoured you’d even consider such a thing.” The sincerity and wonder in his expression were undeniable, but then a frown darkened his features. “Would you tell me one thing?”

“Anything.”

“Earlier . . . was it real, or were you playing a part?”

His insecurity tugged at Hannah’s heartstrings, and she felt even worse for having tried to trick him. Wanting to reassure him of her sincerity, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss to his scarred cheek.

“It was very real,” she whispered.

“Thank God.” William pulled her against him, and they held each other close.

“Might I suggest a compromise?” he offered some moments later.

Curious, Hannah lifted her head.

“Since, as you put it, we are legally wed and entitled to spend as much time together as we want, what would you say to my spending the night?”

“But I thought you needed time to think?” Her heart began pounding in her chest.

“Just to sleep,” he said, with a sad half-smile. “You mentioned your parents shared a bed, and I thought you might like me to stay with you since it’s our wedding night. I realise you were hoping for more, but—”

“That would be lovely.” Hannah’s hope rekindled. If William was willing to share her bed, anything was possible.

Chapter 23

Beginnings

Images from the day crowded William’s mind like the changing patterns in a kaleidoscope. Hannah had looked beautiful in her wedding gown, but the sight of her wearing the revealing nightgown had rendered him speechless. It was difficult to comprehend such an alluring woman was now his wife . . . or that she lay sleeping in his arms.

Her back was to his chest, the soft curve of her bottom nestled against his groin. He’d kept his distance, but once he was sure she was asleep, he couldn’t resist the temptation to pull her close. With his arm wrapped around her waist, his fingers lay tantalisingly near the underside of her breast.

Aroused and yet oddly content, William could happily have remained unmoving for the rest of the night, but he feared the loss of control sleep might bring. After extracting his arm from beneath his wife’s body, he rose from the bed and stood staring down at her for a long moment before searching out his cold, lonely room.

“Are you sure my wife is on her way down?” William asked for the second time that morning.

“Yes, my lord,” his butler replied. “Lady Blackthorn informed her maid she would be taking breakfast in the dining room. She specifically asked if her husband would be present.”

With a nod, William resumed his pacing.

He shouldn’t have left her. No, he shouldn’t have said he would stay. He most certainly shouldn’t have kissed her. William huffed. She was his wife. He was
entitled
to kiss her.

He was entitled to a great deal more, but that didn’t make it right.

“William?”

At Hannah’s greeting, he hobbled across the long dining room, his leg protesting the rigours of the previous day. She was wearing another new gown of a dusky pink colour. It suited her, as did the way she had styled her hair in soft curls around her face.

“You look lovely,” he said after bowing over her hand.

“You left.” She met his gaze then glanced away. “I suppose it was silly of me to think you would stay the entire night. It’s hardly the done thing for those of your class.”

“
Our
class has nothing to do with it.” William lowered his head to whisper in her ear. “What I wanted
and what was wise were two separate entities.”

“Oh.” Hannah’s eyes widened, the gold in their depths glittering. “You were tempted?”

“Most definitely.” He might not be able to act upon his desire, but the last thing he wanted was for her to believe his decision indicated lack on her behalf. “But now is not the time to speak of such things.” His gaze flickered to the hovering servants.

“No, I suppose not,” Hannah murmured, her demeanour brightening noticeably.

William had no intention of being separated by the length of the thirty-seat dining table, and he guided her to the small table he’d requested be set up overlooking the gardens.

“What are your plans for the day?” she asked as he helped her into her seat.

“Spending time with you.”

Her smile grew, and William mirrored it. Although unwilling to consummate their marriage, he was determined to do everything in his power to make his wife happy. To that end, they spent the day doing whatever she wished. Her first request was an exploration of the parts of the manor they would put to most use, the library in particular.

“It’s marvellous.” She stared in awe at the cathedral-like room, its walls lined with rows of books gathered from around the globe. “One could stay lost in here for days . . . weeks.”

“I certainly did.” William wandered over to the section where he’d spent many hours as a boy, hiding out from his father’s drunken rages or outrageous parties. Running his hands over the recently dusted leather spines, he spotted some of his old favourites . . . stories that told of adventure in far-off lands, battles fought, and histories of exotic locations.

Following his lead, Hannah began to peruse the shelves, stopping here and there to remove a book and leaf through its pages. As private libraries went, it was quite extensive. Aware of his father’s esoteric tastes, in particular those that veered towards the vulgar, William steered Hannah away from certain sections. He was still in the process of culling those tomes he feared would offend her sensibilities. While most of his father’s acquisitions were tasteless in William’s opinion, he’d found himself putting certain selections aside. It was difficult to justify his reasoning, as it wasn’t as if he would ever have opportunity to put their exotic revelations into practice—not those of a sexual nature, anyway.

Hit by a wave of despondency, William found himself wishing—not for the first time—that he’d not been born a Blackthorn. While the joy he felt at Hannah’s proximity was undiluted, the knowledge he’d disappointed her the night before, and would undoubtedly do so again, weighed heavily on his heart.

When Hannah announced she’d had her temporary fill of the library, William escorted her through the remainder of the manor’s central wing. He loved the feel of her hand tucked through the crook of his left elbow. The damned thing wouldn’t straighten anyway, but with their arms linked, he could almost forget his limitations.

Their next destination was the salon, and the statuary and paintings by artists famous and unknown quickly captured her attention.

“I used to make up tales about the people in the paintings,” he said, gesturing around them. “Imaginary lives filled with adventure.”

“Did you give their stories happy endings?” she asked, standing in front of a large oil painting depicting a medieval family. “Or were you a typical boy and killed them all off in some gruesome manner?”

“The more outrageously violent the better,” he lied. While he had occasionally indulged his boyish tendency towards tragic tales, his own life had been difficult enough. He’d preferred to imagine people finding happiness and
love.

“What of our tale?” She moved to stand before him. “What ending do you predict for us?”

“A long and happy one.” Taking her hand, he leaned down to softly brush her lips with his. This time, he managed to keep the kiss chaste, but there was no mistaking the look of longing in Hannah’s eyes when he straightened—a look that perfectly mirrored his own feelings.

“Come,” he said gruffly. “I want to show you the ballroom. I’ve some ideas for its refurbishment, but I’d like to hear your thoughts.”

Hannah smiled. Whether it was due to their kiss or because he had asked for her input, William was unsure. Regardless, he felt he was beginning to understand his new wife. While she was very capable and at times a little bossy—a consequence, no doubt, of the responsibility she’d borne throughout her adult life—she could also be wary, used to taking a position of deference in society. William wanted her to know her place was by his side and her opinion was paramount. Consequently, he asked for it often, treasuring her insights and the opportunity to get to know her more deeply.