Passion's Song (A Georgian Historical Romance) (29 page)

“
Why in God’s name not?” He threw
his breeches back on the floor and twisted to face her.

“
I thought my letter made that
perfectly clear.”

“
Ah, yes. Your letter.”

She looked at him through narrowed eyes. “You did
get my letter, didn’t you?”

“
Yes, I did.” He paused guiltily.
“But I’m afraid I never read it.”

“
And still you came after me?” she
asked in a wondering voice. The ribbon holding back his hair was
askew and she reached up to pull it out tenderly. She leaned
forward to press her lips to his and bury her fingers in his sandy
hair. “Alexander, we can’t wait to marry because I’m carrying your
child.”

Their eyes met, and for a long moment Isobel wasn’t
sure what he thought. Then he gathered her into his arms and just
held her, and for the first time in weeks everything was right in
her world.

I

Alexander could have wished his meeting with Lord
Chessingham had been even half so easy as procuring the special
license. He had thought to marry in London; the earl had given his
consent to the union—there had been no choice in the matter—but he
was vehement in insisting that the marriage take place away from
London. “You might,” the earl had said sternly, “at least oblige me
by going about this discreetly. Surely you can keep her out of
London until after the child is born.”

Their respective solicitors met and in only two days
a satisfactory contract was drawn up. In addition to some
properties in Norfolk, the earl settled on Isobel the astounding
sum of one hundred thousand pounds. It gave hope that there might
be an eventual reconciliation. It was such a fantastic sum that
Alexander could only believe Chessingham had not quite hardened his
heart against his daughter. It was unusual for the groom’s
solicitor to be advocating on behalf of the bride, but Lord
Chessingham had evidently instructed his attorney to agree to
whatever might be proposed regarding the disposition of the money.
As it turned out, Alexander saw to it that the entire hundred
thousand was set aside for Isobel, with five hundred a month pin
money.

When Alexander told Julia he was to marry Isobel,
she made no comment except to congratulate him on finally showing
some good sense, and to insist upon attending the wedding. However,
she questioned Isobel at great length, and when she had finished
scolding her for not confiding in her, she ended by exclaiming, “He
should have married you immediately!”

“
Julia,” Isobel said, “if I have
learned anything about your brother, it’s that he was very much in
love with his first wife and she hurt him terribly.” They were
sitting in the gardens behind Redruth, and Isobel, looking a little
drawn, smiled at Julia. “Though he’d never admit it, ever since
then he’s been afraid of loving someone that much a second time. I
think maybe he does love me that much, and I think it frightened
him. I only pray that I never do anything to hurt him.”

“
You won’t, I know it, Isobel,
because you love him and Sarah never did.”

“
I just wish this was all over!
Father won’t talk to me, and if you hadn’t come to see me, I’m sure
I would have spent this entire day without speaking to a single
person.”

Julia hugged Isobel. “Don’t you worry. You’re going
to be happy for the rest of your life.”

Alexander and Isobel did not see each other until
the arrangements were completed and the marriage contracts could be
signed. He felt a pang when he saw how pale she was. She did not
look well; there were dark circles under her eyes, and when he sat
down next to her she clutched his hand tightly.

“
Father won’t even talk to me,”
she said plaintively when they were finally alone. “He said that
I’ve disgraced him.”

“
Give him time,” he told her.
“He’ll feel differently when you come back after having the baby.”
He kissed the top of her head. “We’re to be married day after
tomorrow at Ashdown Grey. We’ll stay there until after your lying
in.” He continued even though she was sitting up straight, dark
eyes wide. “It’s close enough that Julia can visit, so it’s not as
though you won’t have company.”

“
Alexander, I can’t stay at
Ashdown Grey, not yet!”

He saw by the look on her face they were in for an
argument, and, to forestall it, he sighed and said, “Why not,
Isobel?”

“
Because in two weeks I am engaged
to conduct a specially commissioned piece for the duke of
Mallentrye.”

“
Mallentrye?” he asked with a
scowl.

“
Alexander, listen to me, the King
is going to be there. It’s the most important performance of my
life and I refuse to miss it—I can’t miss it. I’ve been working so
hard! Don’t you even think of preventing me, Alexander!” she cried
when she saw him shake his head.

“
I was only going to say that I
shall have to send my acceptance after all.”

“
Afterward, Alexander, 1 will stay
anywhere you like.”

“
You are an impossible
woman.”

It took nearly the entire day to reach Ashdown Grey,
though it included a lengthy stop to rest the horses and have a
meal at the town of Wadhurst. The sky was just beginning to darken
when they reached the outskirts of Ashdown Forest, and by the time
they were at the front gates the chestnut trees were long shadows
on the drive.

Alexander firmly held Isobel’s elbow as he escorted
her inside. They paused in the entrance hall just long enough for a
footman to appear with a candle to light their way. The butler
stood in the hall until long after Lord Hartforde had disappeared
up the stairs, a smile on his thin lips. More than once during his
lordship’s last stay at Ashdown Grey, he had been sorely tempted to
give notice, and he would have, if he had not been sure he would
eventually come to his senses and marry the girl.

Isobel and Julia sat up most of the night talking.
When Julia finally got up to go to her own room, she hugged Isobel.
“I know you’re going to be happy,” she said.

“
I know we will, too.”

II

The witnesses to their marriage were the mayor of
the nearby village of Horsham and a local squire, one Horace Falls,
who, unlike the mayor, had the tact and presence of mind not to
make any comments about hurried weddings. Neither the mayor’s
snickering nor the Reverend Paxton’s stern and disapproving look
could mar the happiness of the day. Isobel did not care what anyone
thought. She was marrying the man she loved more than anything in
the world.

Isobel rested her head on Alexander’s chest when
they were finally alone in his room at Ashdown Grey.

“
Well, Lady Hartforde,” he said,
bending his head to kiss her cheek, “I’m sorry this has been such a
strain on you.” He looked into her eyes and was lost in their dark
depths. “I can’t believe I’ve been such a fool about you,” he
whispered. The moment his lips touched hers, he felt a familiar
spark of desire center itself in him and begin to spread slowly
outward. He pulled her closer to him and began, cautiously, to
explore the depths of the passion that seemed always to be there to
bind him to her. It felt so right to have her in his arms again. It
was a heady feeling he was at a loss to explain or understand. She
was there, with him, and now he could touch her as he had been
longing to since…since the last time they had lain together. He
picked her up to carry her to the bed, and then when he was next to
her, he kissed her again. He wanted to kiss her just to see if he
would ever tire of it. He kept thinking to himself, We are married!
The words shocked him, but it was a shock that made him drunk with
her and with a passionate joy that made him softly croon her name
when he reached to touch her. He pulled her upright as his mouth
slid down her throat, his fingers feverishly working at the
fastenings of her dress. He whispered her name, his longing for
her, and of how he wanted to touch her.

Just as feverishly, she was unbuttoning his clothes,
pausing to pull his shirt off so she could slide her hands down the
ridges of his belly. He pushed her dress off her shoulders and down
to the floor, never taking his eyes from hers as he removed the
rest of her clothes. When she was naked before him, he pulled her
to him, running his hands down the smooth length of her. “You are
beautiful,” he said in a hushed voice. He sucked in his breath when
he felt her hand on his breeches.

“
I want you,” she whispered. “I
want you forever.”

“
And I you.” He had never meant
anything more in his life. There was no reason to hurry, no reason
to check that he had locked the doors, no reason to hold back or
muffle his cries for fear of being overheard. He had all the right
in the world to make love to his wife.

Much later, Alexander sat propped up on the pillows
watching Isobel sleep. He moved uncomfortably and shifted so her
head lay on his thighs. She sighed and settled her head in his lap,
one small hand warming his leg through the sheets. He stroked her
cheek as she slept. How must she have felt when there was no answer
to her letter? he wondered. As he looked at her, he wondered what
it was about marriage that had so frightened him. Isobel could
never be held up as an example of a proper young lady; her
single-mindedness about her music was impediment enough to that. It
was a shame, he thought, she was not a man, because her music was
as good, better even, than any he had ever heard. He could easily
admit he preferred an intelligent woman to a stupid one, but
Isobel’s intelligence was most masculine in its perspicacity,
though—Lord!—he enjoyed their conversations. She had a sparkling
wit, but an unfortunate willfulness. But, then, she had not had a
conventional upbringing. She’d told him enough about America for
him to know Jonathon Rowland had loved her dearly, and the
Samuelses had made her life a hell. It was hardly surprising that
someone with such an extraordinary upbringing should turn out to be
such an extraordinary young woman. He only knew he did not want her
to go back to London; he did not want her anywhere near the duke of
Mallentrye.

III

They spent only two more days at Ashdown Grey before
returning to London and Hartforde House, where, to avoid gossip, it
was given out that Isobel was visiting with Julia. Very little time
remained for Isobel to work on her composition for the duke, and
though she threw herself into her work with a frenzy, she and
Alexander seemed to grow even closer. He attended one of the
rehearsals, much to the surprise of Faircourt, who, when he saw
Alexander come in and quietly seat himself, whispered to Isobel,
“Be on your best behavior, and you may have yet another
patron!”

“
What do you mean?” she asked
quickly, frowning at his interruption.

“
I mean, the marquess of Hartforde
is sitting not twenty feet away at this very moment!”

“
Good afternoon, my lord,”
Faircourt said after he had left Isobel to approach Alexander. “It
is an honor indeed to have you here. Mr. Boxham has asked me to
express his deep gratitude for your kindness in coming.”

“
I have been following Mr.
Boxham’s career with great interest.”

“
You display an excellent ear for
music, my lord.”

“
I should like very much to meet
Mr. Boxham. Do you think it possible?”

“
Of course!”

“
I look forward to it. And now, I
should like to hear the music.” It was unsettling to watch Isobel;
this was a side of her he had never seen before. Several times he
heard her exasperated voice rising above the music. At last she
stopped the orchestra and strode over to the fortepiano.

“
Like this!” She played several
bars. “Slow, then slower, but, for God’s sake, it’s not a funeral
march!”

When she finally put down the baton, Faircourt
bustled up to her and, putting a hand on her shoulder, said, “Lord
Hartforde wants very much to meet you. Be on your best behavior!”
He waved a finger under her nose as he repeated the admonition.

“
Really,” she whispered to
Alexander after Faircourt had made the introductions, “we ought to
tell him.”

“
A pleasure to make your
acquaintance,” Alexander said. “Here is my card. You may call on me
whenever you like. Perhaps”—he glanced at Faircourt—“I shall
commission a piece from you myself, Mr. Boxham.”

“
Perhaps several?” Isobel said,
pretending not to see Faircourt’s horror at her
boldness.

“
Yes, I think several would be in
order.”

“
Well,” Faircourt said to
Alexander, “it seems Mr. Boxham is going to be very busy. The duke
of Mallentrye has also expressed interest in commissioning more
work from him. He was here just yesterday and he was pleased, quite
pleased, with what he heard.”

“
No doubt he was,” Alexander said
sourly.

“
Why didn’t you tell me Mallentrye
was there yesterday?” Alexander demanded later that
evening.

“
Because I didn’t think it was
important,” Isobel said.

“
I don’t want you to have anything
to do with that man.”

“
I can’t help it, Alexander. After
all, he commissioned the piece. It’s no surprise that he came to a
rehearsal.”

“
I don’t like it, Isobel,” he
snapped. “Does he know who you are?”