Protection (26 page)

“No, it’s fine,” she muttered, tugging the delicate material over her head in such
a forceful way he was surprised it didn’t tear. Slumping down on the pillow, she turned
to face the wall. When he joined her, she kept her back to him, and Nathaniel feared
he’d upset her. Placing an arm around her waist, he pulled her close, though not too
close or she might detect his continued arousal.

“Good night,” he whispered.

“Good night,” she said after a long pause, and Nathaniel sighed.

He’d been warned that wives were prickly creatures. He just hadn’t expected as much
from Lisa, certainly not on their wedding night. Still, it had been a long day.

Chapter 24

Contradictions

Lisa waited until she was certain Nathaniel was asleep to get up and use the water
closet located in the adjoining bathing room.

“Stupid, stubborn man,” she muttered, tempted to throw the sponge in the rubbish.
All his talk of accepting her the way she was—that she was the same girl he had fallen
in love with when he had believed her a maid, and of course he didn’t want her to
change now that he knew she was a lady—was utter rot. While he had enjoyed the benefits
of her previous wantonness
immensely, it was clear he now believed such behaviour to be wicked or, at the very
least, inappropriate.

Grumbling under her breath, Lisa made her way in the semidarkness to her new dressing
room, rummaging around until she found a plain cotton nightgown. Nathaniel had been
right about one thing—the beautiful nightgown was not designed
for sleep. The lace itched, and she feared the wide neckline could cause it to fall
off her shoulders. God forbid he should awaken and find her half naked. He might think
she was attempting to seduce him.

A sob erupted from Lisa’s lips, and she muffled it with her hand. After indulging
in a few angry tears, she considered the possibility she was judging Nathaniel too
harshly. It wasn’t as if their wedding night had been a complete disaster. He’d been
very attentive, clearly determined she enjoy their lovemaking as much as he did. It
was obvious he still appreciated her responsiveness, but he also appeared to be under
the impression she’d been transformed by acknowledgement of her station and the exchanging
of matrimonial vows into a wilting lily who required excessive amounts of rest.

Taking a seat in her dressing room, Lisa allowed a few more tears to fall. She’d been
through so much, and tonight was supposed to be one of the happiest of her life, not
limited by expectations she had no desire to meet.

Unsure how to proceed, she decided she would take her cue from her husband—temporarily.
At least now that they were married she had time on her side, time in which he would
surely come to his senses.

After three days of marriage, Lisa’s confidence had taken somewhat of a beating. While
settling into their new home was a congenial exercise, navigating the more intimate
aspects of their relationship was a little more complicated.

Nathaniel continued to share her bed, or invite her into his, the first part of each
evening undeniably pleasant. His attentiveness ensured she found no fault in their
lovemaking, but he seemed convinced his lady wife would not,
could
not, enjoy anything other than the most conservative of couplings. After his reaction
on their wedding night, she decided not to raise the possibility of their making love
more than once a day, hoping to entice him without words when he was at his most vulnerable—first
thing in the morning. Her plan fell by the wayside when she awoke to find his side
of the bed empty, an occurrence he appeared to be making a habit.

Lisa refused to be disheartened. While she understood a wife must behave with more
circumspection than a mistress, she was convinced their marriage need not be overly
different than the life Nathaniel had wanted them to lead when he’d believed her a
commoner. She just needed to convince him.

On the journey from London to visit his country estate and her new home, Marsden Park,
they spent the first night in a luxurious inn. Lisa wasn’t worried when he requested
separate suites, as appearances must be maintained. But she couldn’t deny, or hide,
her disappointment when he didn’t join her.

“We’ve shared a bed every night since the wedding,” he murmured for her ears only
when she asked him the reason for his absence over breakfast the next morning. “Considering
the arduous journey, I thought you would appreciate a rest.”

“A rest,” Lisa echoed, her hopes of success becoming a little less certain. When he
stayed away the second night of their journey, they were further deflated. If he didn’t
put aside his excessive concern for her well-being once they were farther away from
society’s frustrating rules and expectations, she wasn’t sure what she was going to
do.

Topping the rise to Marsden Park, Lisa lifted up from her seat to gain a better view.

“It’s lovely.” She smiled down at Nathaniel.

“Not as grand as Worthington Hall, of course.”

“Which is a good
thing,” she said, taking in the sweeping drive, manicured gardens, and elegant three-storey
red brick mansion. “It’s perfect.”

“As are you.”

Surprising her, Nathaniel drew her down beside him and captured her lips. Unperturbed
that their display of affection was witnessed by the various gardeners, farm workers,
and tenants who had come to view their arrival, he kissed her soundly.

“Nathaniel.” She broke away with a breathless laugh. “People are watching. What will
they think of your new marchioness for allowing such familiarity?”

“Nothing untoward, I can assure you.” She raised a brow, and he continued. “You’re
the nation’s sweetheart, my darling, and can do no wrong in their eyes.”

Lisa huffed a breath at his nonsense. “Very well. What will they think of their incumbent
lord for his outrageous behaviour?”

“Me? Outrageous?”

“Kissing one’s new bride in public is hardly the done thing.”

“It is when one’s bride is as beautiful as mine.” With a smug smile curving his now
reddened lips, he placed his arm around her shoulders for all to see. “Don’t worry.
They’ll be too busy concluding I am the most fortunate of men to be bothered with
judgement.”

Lisa wasn’t so sure but did her best to enjoy the moment, contradictory though his
behaviour might be.

“And this is your new artist’s studio,” Nathaniel announced with unmistakeable pride
after taking her on a tour of the main areas of the home.

“Studio?”

Wearing a puzzled smile, Lisa followed him into the sunny, south-facing room, its
floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the gardens and river that meandered past Marsden
Park. An easel stood ready, a blank canvas resting upon it. All manner of supplies
lined the shelves, with jars of powders and oil ready for mixing on a conveniently
located workbench.

“I had the supplies purchased in the city and have received several recommendations
for notable tutors residing in the district. Just say the word, and your lessons can
begin.”

“But I’ve already had lessons.” She looked around her in bemusement. “Lots
of them. I was told my talent is limited and unlikely to develop further.”

“Rubbish.” Nathaniel’s brow furrowed in a scowl she thought excessive for the occasion.
“Your sketches are wonderful, and the little self-portrait you did for me captured
your likeness perfectly.”

“After more than a dozen attempts,” she said dryly, wandering the room and taking
in its many treasures.

“Would you not enjoy the opportunity to indulge your hobby? I was looking forward
to hanging some of your
paintings in our home. I thought you’d be pleased.”

“I am.” She tried to sound grateful. “But I fear your expectations are unrealistic.
I’m a dabbler, nothing more.”

“Well, then, you can dabble
to your heart’s content, and I will gush excessively.”

Coming to stand behind her, he wrapped his arms around Lisa’s waist and rested his
head on her shoulder. At times like this, when he lowered his guard and allowed a
greater degree of familiarity between them, she could almost fool herself into believing
they were back at Worthington. Although if that had been the case, she’d not have
hesitated to tell Nathaniel the truth.

As much as she appreciated the opportunity he was giving her to spend some time sketching
and painting, what she would have preferred was the chance to indulge her much greater
passion—baking. But it wasn’t done for the wife of a marquis to spend her time wearing
an apron, elbow deep in flour, and in the company of her kitchen staff.

After making a deliberate fuss over his gift, Lisa plucked up the courage to ask Nathaniel
for a tour of the kitchens.

“As mistress of the household, it is part of my duties to oversee their running,”
she added at his puzzled glance.

“But isn’t that Mrs Jones’ job? I’m sure she’ll report to you regularly, requesting
your approval of menus and the like.”

“Please, Nathaniel? I’d like to see them.”

“Of course. Anything you desire.”

He smiled, but Lisa struggled to mirror it. She could have anything she desired as
long as it wasn’t a return to the uninhibited relationship they’d previously shared.

Chef Louis welcomed her warmly, and she smiled at the rest of the kitchen staff. The
servants from their London house had travelled ahead of the honeymooners to ensure
all would be in readiness upon their arrival.

“Are the facilities to your liking?” Lisa asked, eyeing the gleaming benches and neatly
arranged utensils covetously. Unable to resist, she lifted the lid on a pot simmering
on one of the enormous stove tops, savouring the smell of the French onion soup they
would be served at some point, she imagined. A quick peek in the oven revealed Louis
was preparing fruit scones, one of Lisa’s favourites, for their afternoon tea.

“The kitchen is newly renovated and perfectly adequate,” Louis said, batting her hands
away with a cloth. “But how many times have I warned you about opening the oven without
checking with me first,
chérie
? What if I had been raising a
soufflé
?”

“Then I would have been suitably chastened.” Lisa smiled. “And seriously concerned
about my sense of smell.”