Scandal at the Dower House (27 page)

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Authors: Sally James

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BOOK: Scandal at the Dower House
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Nicholas glanced at him.

‘I fear that will not be possible, Sir Humphrey. I am taking Catarina with me to Brooke Court tomorrow. We will be married from there, since I doubt she wishes the Reverend Eade to conduct the ceremony after the way he has behaved to her.’

* * * *

‘I can’t marry you!’

‘Why not? Apart from the fact that I love you and you appear to be fond of me, if your reaction to my kisses means anything, now I’ve told everyone you can’t possibly jilt me. There’s the scandal, too, of my staying in the Dower House when you were unchaperoned. And I made sure to obtain a special licence,’ he added with a wicked grin.

They were in the drawing room of Marshington Grange, after a celebration dinner. Jeremy, saying he was tired and his arm was aching, had taken himself off to bed, but Catarina had caught him winking at Nicholas as he left the room.

‘That’s not important. People will soon know about Joanna, and that Maria is her child, born out of wedlock. That’s an even worse scandal!’

‘If the Regent and his brothers can have children out of wedlock, and acknowledge them, I don’t think your sister’s doing so will be considered so very important.’

‘Her husband might hear. Besides — ‘

‘Besides what?’

Catarina wished he would not look at her like that. It made her incapable of thinking logically.

‘I told so many lies! And you once said you abominated lies more than anything else.’

‘You only told them to protect your sister. I find that completely reasonable, and would probably have done the same.’

Catarina felt like being utterly childish and stamping her foot in anger. Why did he have to counter all her arguments and sound so odiously reasonable while he did so?

‘I can’t marry you,’ she repeated.

She was totally unprepared when Nicholas rose from the sopha where he’d been lounging, drinking tea, and came across to her.

‘Then there is nothing else for it,’ he said, and swung her into his arms.

‘What are you doing? Put me down! Nicholas!’

He grinned, carried her out of the room and up the stairs. At the top he turned towards his own room, not the one she had been given.

‘I’ll have to ruin you,’ he said.

‘Nicholas!’

‘I’m not intending to force you, my love. You can tell me to stop at any time. And I promise I will. But you are staying in my bed until morning. Ruined, you’ll be. What will Mrs Eade say?’

She was betrayed into a giggle, then decided he was completely mad, too puffed up with his own success in vanquishing Matthew to care about convention. But being held in his arms, pressed closely against his heart, was such a safe, delicious feeling, it would be unbearable to be forced to leave him. Perhaps after all she could accept his offer.

He dropped her onto the bed in his room, and stood laughing down at her.

‘Catarina, you are such a darling, and you’ve had such pain since Walter died. I want above all else to make it up to you. I do love you, unreservedly, and I think I have done since I first saw you in this house. You looked so young and lost in your widow’s weeds. Which reminds me, we can dispense with this gown, I think. Let me be your maid.’

Before she knew what was happening he had removed her gown, and shrugged off his own coat. He sat down on the bed and took her face in his hands, looking deep into her eyes.

‘My dear, say you love me.’

Catarina swallowed, and gave in to the inevitable. He knew about all the scandal, and if he didn’t care, why should she? She’d been attracted to him from the first, but having just lost Walter so suddenly, had not recognized the feeling, the desire which had swept through her very soul. She had never been in love with Walter, and had been too young when they married to have suffered any sort of calf love before that time.

‘I love you,’ she managed.

Within seconds, it seemed, he had discarded the rest of his clothing, and was removing her shift. He sat beside her and began to roll down her stockings. She shivered at his touch, especially when he trailed his lips down her legs, feathering kisses. He left the candles burning, and the glow from the firelight lit the room, but it didn’t matter, she wanted to look at him. She had never before been naked in front of a man, but the feelings he was causing to flood her whole body made her forget that. When he lay down beside her and began to stroke her body, then to cup her breasts in gentle hands, and tease her nipples with kisses, she arched against him, not knowing what she wanted.

He roused her slowly, carefully, murmuring endearments, until she was clasping him and begging for release. When he moved to lie on top of her she gasped, but was ready for him, until, as he began to enter her, he found an obstruction. She felt him pause, but by now was so desperate for fulfilment she urged him on, knowing by instinct what to do, and they clung together until the paroxysms which has shaken them slowed and finally stopped.

He was holding her close against his heart.

‘Why didn’t you tell me? I’d have been more gentle.’

‘Tell you?’

‘That you were a virgin. That you have never made love before. That Walter was never a true husband to you.’

She sighed. It was her final secret.

‘He could not, because of an accident. But he was always kind, and very good to me.’

‘I intend to be a proper husband, my sweetest Catarina. I love you, adore you, and want you by my side for the rest of my days.’

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright © 2010 by Marina Oliver/Sally James

Originally published by Robert Hale [UK] (ISBN 978-0709089582)

Electronically published in 2014 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads

 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

 

No portion of this book may be reprinted in whole or in part, by printing, faxing, E-mail, copying electronically or by any other means without permission of the publisher. For more information, contact Belgrave House, 190 Belgrave Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94117-4228

 

     http://www.RegencyReads.com

     Electronic sales: [email protected]

 

This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.

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