Rebecca (34 page)

“Of course! I want to be with you every night.” She leaned her head against his right shoulder.

Pulling the covers over them, he nestled with her in the succulent vestiges of lethargy. As if all the walls between them had been breached by the opening of that unlocked door, they talked of the love they had for each other. They could joke about their impressions of the disastrous wedding.

As he spoke, Rebecca learned of how she had misunderstood so much on the trip to Foxbridge Cloister. He had not meant to be cruel. She had not let him be kind. Listening to Keith's poisoned words and seeing the man who seemed to be the embodiment of the Dark Angel, she obstinately had refused to believe that he could be tender. Even when he was so kind she could not disregard it, such as when he had not forced her to sleep with him, she had accused him of having an ulterior motive. It shocked her to learn that he had loved her from the moment he had seen her again in the church. As patiently as he was able to, Nicholas had waited for her to fall in love with him.

“Nicholas, it's a small thing, but I have been curious what you said to that little girl when we stopped that first night.” She ran her fingers along his chest, being careful not to touch him near the bandage covering his wound. “She seemed so charmed by you that I wondered if I was wrong about what I thought about you.” She laughed lightly. “You tried your best to convince me that I was right that you were one of the devil's spawn.”

He had to search his memory for the incident. When he recalled it, he smiled. “She thought I was King George in that fancy coach. When I told her that I was not, she was so disappointed that I told her you were a princess who had been hidden away and was traveling to her castle floating on a cloud.” Rising to lean on his elbow, he kissed the softness of her lips, which were nearly black in the color-draining moonlight. “My Rebecca, you may not be a true princess, but you are my very special Lady Foxbridge.”

“No,” she disagreed in a sibilant whisper, “I am neither. I am simply the woman who loves you and is lucky enough to be your wife. I love you, Nicholas Wythe, although you are the most impossible man in the world.”

“Perhaps that is why we get along so well, sweetheart, for you are the most contrary woman I have ever known. Also the most beautiful, the most appealing, and the one I love with all my heart.” He sighed as he felt a twinge wrack his shoulder. “I'm afraid I won't be able to fulfill all my fantasies with you this night.”

Gently, she drew him closer to her on the pillows. “We have forever, my love. Hold me, and we can dream together. I have had a rough day, and I want to sleep here with you.”

His mouth on hers as he kissed her good night held the promise of the delights they would share again soon in the lushness of the huge bed. They left the bed curtains and the window drapes open so they could enjoy the hint of a breeze filtering past the deep-set windows. With his arm around her, and her face against the furred surface of his chest, they were swept away into a dream world where their dreams were a repetition of the joy in the waking hours of their lives.

Gilmore, Nicholas's valet, opened the door to the bedroom at the lord's normal rising time. One glance at the two cuddled in the bed brought a smile to his face as he closed the heavy portal. He turned and saw Collette entering. With a smile, he motioned for her to come over by the fireplace.

“Yes?” she asked in her lisping accent.

“Lady Foxbridge won't be needing you for a while, Collette.”

When she saw the broad grin on his wizened face, she brightened. They had been the only ones who had known the true situation of the marriage between the lord and his lady. Not a hint of it had they given to anyone, for they had known that there had been many things unusual about this marriage.

“I think I will get my lady's things packed to be moved over to the other room,” Collette said lightly. Her eyes twinkled as she added, “I'm glad they have finally come to their senses. I did not know how much longer they could pretend that they did not love each other.”

“As my pa was fond of saying, ‘All's well that ends well.'”

She laughed. “I think that this is just the beginning, not the ending.”

The two went to empty Lady Foxbridge's drawers to transfer her personal things to the unused dresser space in the main bedroom of the suite. They were careful to keep their happy voices low so not to wake the two on the far side of the connecting door.

Warm tentacles of sunshine tickled Rebecca's bare skin to urge her awake to greet the morning. Content to remain in her enchanting dreams, she resisted the invitation to awake. When a kiss warmer than the daylight touched her hair, she opened her eyes to look up into Nicholas' smile.

“Good morning, Rebecca,” he whispered before he kissed her tenderly on the lips.

“How are you feeling?”

His hand ran along the nakedness of her slender body. His fingers paused for a brief moment as they encountered the scars on her right thigh. The marks would be a permanent reminder of the accident that, like the duel, could have separated them before they had discovered this most special love. “That, my dear,” he said, reprovingly, “is one of the few truly silly questions you have ever asked me. I feel wonderful to have my wife in my arms where she belongs.”

She giggled with delight. Her happiness brought back all the simple feelings of childhood. “I didn't mean that, Nicholas! I was talking about your shoulder.”

His eyebrows arched in characteristic impudence. “My dear Rebecca, I have yet to give a thought to that most insignificant wound. My thoughts have been totally involved with your sweet body.”

“That, my dear Lord Foxbridge,” she said in the same tone of hauteur, “is absurd. I'm going to get up and get dressed. Dr. Withers will be here soon. As much as he is trying to convince me to let him be present at the birth of your heir, I don't think it will ease the situation on that topic to discover us together here.”

He laughed loudly as he saw her wry smile. He had known there was much discussion why there had been no announcement of a forthcoming heir from this nearly five-year-old marriage. The thought of their upcoming anniversary reminded him of a subject he wanted to discuss with her later, but he said only, “Very well, sweetheart. I will let you leave me only if you promise to come back as soon as we possibly can find a moment together again.”

Her hand stroked the hirsute hardness of his chest. “You won't be able to keep me away.”

With a lingering kiss, he pulled her to him. He winced and cursed his injured shoulder. Once again, she giggled at his unique phraseology which told her how frustrated he was by the weakness of his own body. He reached past her to pick up her nightclothes and handed them to her, knowing she was still shy, for she had kept the sheets close to her chin.

Dressing, Rebecca went to the door that led to her room. She felt a warm flush as she saw Collette supervising the filling of her bath as if there was nothing unusual about finding Lady Foxbridge's bed unslept in.

The maid pretended not to see Lady Foxbridge's blush as she said calmly, “Your bath is ready, my lady. When you are done, I will finish packing your clothes. I thought you might want your pink gown today, for you are expecting callers, if you remember.”

“Packing?” she asked.

Collette smiled at the disconcerted young woman. “Gilmore and I, my lady, thought it would be more convenient for you and m'lord to have your things in the dressing room instead of squashed together in this small closet.”

“Fine.” She did not know what else to say. From the beginning, she had known that she and Nicholas could have no secrets in this huge house. It was just that she did not expect that this most intimate part of their lives would be part of public knowledge. Then her worries eased. Collette and Gilmore would keep this as quiet as they had the fact that she had slept alone. If that had been sent along the gossipvine, it would have been disastrous for their fledgling love, which had needed quiet and time to develop into the devotion they had yearned to share.

Quickly, she bathed and put on the fancy morning gown which would be appropriate for receiving the next group of curious ladies intent on finding out the details of the duel. She was tired of repeating her edited tale over and over, but knew it was necessary to stop the poisonous tales Royce would be circulating. In a small way, she was glad that Curtis had discovered that the gun had not been tampered with, for it would have dragged out the misery of the incident endlessly.

When she went out into the sitting room, she found Nicholas waiting. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her with the desire that had only been whetted by their lovemaking during the night. She could tell by his voracious kiss that he was not planning to wait until nightfall to love her again. Her daily schedule was due for a revamping to include some time alone with her husband in the bed they would share always.

He held out his hand, and with a smile echoing the happiness within her, she took it. Together they walked down the stairs to share breakfast with the rest of the family and begin their lives anew.

Chapter Seventeen

Rebecca was brushing her hair when she felt the teasing touch of lips against her neck. “Nicholas!” she scolded, with a laugh. “Don't you ever get tired of this?”

He leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “Do you, my love?”

She laughed again. “All right, I retract the question, for it was foolish. Just wait a minute.” Jabbing a hairpin into her hair, she added, “There. I'm done.” She twisted on the bench to face him. “Do you have something on your mind, or did you simply decide it would be amusing to bother me?”

“Both. Mostly the first.” He took her hand in his and knelt by her chair. “My dear Rebecca, I love you. Would you marry me?”

“Excuse me?” she gasped. “I thought that we were married already. Isn't our marriage the reason you gave for dragging me halfway around the world? That makes it a little late for a proposal on bended knee.”

Chuckling, he said, “We are wed, my love, but I thought for our upcoming fifth anniversary, you would like to have that church wedding that you have been denied twice. We could be married here at the Cloister.”

She did not answer immediately. The thought of retaking their vows in the family chapel had never entered her mind. It was a wondrous thought. When she married Nicholas nearly five years ago, she had repeated the vows without thinking of what she promised. It had been a game, nothing more. Both of them had expected that death would part them before they could fulfill any of the vows of binding love. Finally she could speak them with all her heart. Putting her other hand against his cheek, she kissed him warmly. “Yes, Nicholas, I will marry you. As many times as you wish.”

“Once more should be sufficient. Our anniversary is most conveniently on Saturday. Will that be all right?”

“Saturday? This Saturday? With all there will be to do?” She thought of the tasks necessary to ready Foxbridge Cloister for even a small group of guests. “Yes, we will try for Saturday.” Suddenly she brightened and, with a laugh, she said, “This is going to be fun.”

“I thought so, sweetheart.” He stood and pulled her into his arms. “First we will have the church wedding we never had. Then, later, we will have the honeymoon that started five years too late.” His lips turned up in a smile as they claimed hers and teased her with the love which made every bit of their lives more joyous.

When they announced their plans at breakfast, silence reigned at the table. Rebecca was glad it had been Nicholas' idea, for the unorthodox ceremony did not please Lady Margaret. She knew her mother-in-law would have been most enthusiastic if they had stated that they were dissolving their marriage instead of strengthening it.

Once Eliza recovered from her shock, she was thrilled. Because of her love for Curtis, every romantic idea appealed to her. Certainly there could be nothing more romantic than the repetition of the heartfelt vows joining two lives together. She volunteered to go for Mademoiselle Pacquette herself, so that the modiste would know how important it was to design and make the wedding gown quickly.

The household staff was immediately excited over the idea. They enjoyed working for this lord and lady and, like Eliza, were enthralled by the sentimental idea of the Wythes marrying again on this special anniversary. All the problems Rebecca had feared were quickly laid to rest by the staff.

She went to see Reverend Middleton alone. In his cozy parlor, on a rainy afternoon, she asked him to come to Foxbridge Cloister and remarry her to Nicholas. She explained her honest desire to take as a woman the vows she had spoken as a child. Pleased by her candidness, the minister knew that anyone who could count on his fingers realized Lady Foxbridge had been very young when she wed Lord Foxbridge. Her account of a dying soldier and the young girl who saved his life touched him deeply. He stored the tale in his mind to use for a future sermon with enough changes so that no one would guess he spoke of the Wythes.

John Middleton had put aside his foolish love for Lady Foxbridge. Thinking back over the month he had pined for her, he knew that he had forced the facts to be what he wished. Since the confrontation in the church, both the lord and his lady had continued to be pleasant. It had shown him that he had misjudged the intentions of both of them. Not once had they mentioned the incident, and he knew that, as far as Lord Foxbridge was concerned, if he continued to work well for the parish, his living was guaranteed.

He was willing to do almost anything to repay them for their kindness. This fanciful wedding appealed to him, for he had heard the nasty rumors about Lord Foxbridge's family being unhappy with his bride. He had taken the stories as the sign of ignorance that they were. Anyone familiar with Rebecca Wythe knew she was a lady through and through.