The Bride's Secret (26 page)

Carlotta settled a gentle hand about the woman's shoulder. “Let's go back to your cottage. You all will be warm there.”

'Twas the longest walk Carlotta had ever taken. The two Covington daughters cried hysterically, and even the lads were unable to hide their tears. James offered to hold the babe, who was being held by the eldest girl, and Hastings lifted up a little boy who could not have been more than two years of age.

At the cottage, Carlotta settled the widow into her dreary sopha, and the woman's children gathered around her.

“Mrs. Covington,” Carlotta said, “I cannot tell you how terribly sorry I am for you.”

James stepped forward. “Douglas Covington was one of the finest men I've ever known.”

Mrs. Covington nodded. “He was the finest man, the best hoosband and the greatest father there ever was.”

“Indeed he was,” Carlotta whispered, clasping the widow's hand. Carlotta still could picture the pride that came over the man when he spoke so affectionately of his family. With a stab of pain, she remembered, too, the words his wife had so recently uttered.
I don't know what I'd do if something ever happened to me Dooglas.

How well Carlotta understood the emotions which were tearing at the woman right now. Until just minutes before Carlotta had been crippled with the same fear, fear that she would be deprived of her own beloved husband.

“You are blessed that your Douglas left you such wonderful children,” Carlotta said in a feeble effort at consolation. “As time passes, your fine sons will help to fill the emptiness and will serve to remind you of your husband.”

Instead of their desired effect, Carlotta's words caused fresh waves of tears to burst forth from Mrs. Covington.

A knock sounded at the door. Hastings opened it, and a half dozen miners' wives rushed into the room and threw their arms around the grieving widow.

Carlotta had thought to stay with Mrs. Covington this first night, but after the other wives came, Carlotta realized the widow would be more comfortable with these women of her own class.

Before they left James told Mrs. Covington he would make provisions for her to assure that neither she nor her children would ever go without.

Outside, Carlotta and James separated from Hastings, and Carlotta and James began the lonely trip home.

Chapter 26

The moors took on a macabre aura that moonless night as Carlotta and her brooding husband trod over the tussocks on their journey home to Yarmouth Hall. The only sound in the eerie silence was the fall of their footsteps. Blackness blanketed everything, including Carlotta's somber thoughts. She could not rid her mind of the gruesome vision of Douglas Covington's black body buried beneath the cold stone mine.

“I know you have to be completely exhausted,” she said at length. “You left the house early this morning.”

He sighed. “That I am.”

Carlotta's thoughts settled on Douglas Covington's poor widow. It had just been a matter of days since she had told Carlotta how dear her husband was to her, how highly she regarded him. Carlotta remembered how the woman's face had brightened when she spoke of him. No more wistful smiles for the poor widow now, Carlotta thought morosely.

Her heart went out, too, to the unfortunate lads who would miss having a father to teach them about becoming a man. Her thoughts flitted to Stevie and how fortunate he was to have James.

Her heart sped up. How fortunate she was, too.

By the time Carlotta and James arrived at Yarmouth, Mrs. MacGinnis and her staff had already returned.

“Mrs. MacGinnis,” Carlotta called to the housekeeper, “I must thank you for having the presence of mind to bring food to the miners. Your thoughtfulness was much appreciated.”

James stepped forward and spoke to the woman. “You are much appreciated.”

Mrs. MacGinnis smiled shyly.

Carlotta came closer and spoke with command tempered with sweetness. “I should like for you to have Cook prepare feasts to take to the homes of the dead miners tomorrow. Would it also be possible for you to arrange to bring refreshments to the mines in the afternoon?” Carlotta glanced at her husband, wordlessly seeking his approval.

He nodded as Mrs. MacGinnis said, “We should be happy to help in any way we can.”

“Now, if you please,” Carlotta said, as she began to follow her weary husband up the stairs, “have hot water brought to my husband's chamber.”

* * *

While waiting for James's tub to fill, Carlotta knelt at his feet and assisted him in removing his muddied boots.

“Never mind me,” he said. “I daresay Mannington can manage. You'll need to remove the soot and mud from your own self.”

She met his gaze and spoke throatily. “I wish to send Mannington away.”

Now he understood. As exhausted as he was, he understood and his body feebly responded to the velvet tone of her seductive voice.

Mannington stepped from the dressing room with clean clothing for his master.

“I shan't need you any more tonight, Mannington,” James said, his eyes never leaving Carlotta's.

“Very good, sir,” the valet answered flatly as he set the clothing on James's bed then turned on his heel and departed.

With the firelight as a backdrop, James watched the footmen pour the last kettles of water into the tub, then leave the bed chamber.

Watching her husband with smoldering eyes, Carlotta reached for his buttons. James drew in his breath. She began to unfasten them, one by one. When she was finished, she lay her hand over the hair that matted on his chest. “So white there compared to here,” she whispered as her hand reached to stroke his blackened face.

His breathing grew more harsh, his mind and heart shaken to their depths by her gentleness—and his ever-swelling love for her.

Slowly, she removed the shirt from him. “Shall we stand?” she whispered.

James answered her without words, pulling her up with him. Her hands slipped to the bare skin beneath his breeches, and she gave them a tug. “I shall require your assistance in removing these, my darling.”

My darling
. Good God in heaven! He was beginning to believe his wife had, indeed, fallen in love with him. He jerked off his breeches and watched as her eyes flitted to the center of his body, then back to his face.

“Get in the tub, love, and I shall wash you,” she said in a husky whisper.

He obliged her.

She dropped to her knees and stirred her hands in the water, then lathered the soap in them. “Scoot down, love, and I'll start with your hair.”

He slipped completely beneath the water, then allowed just his head to come above the water line.

Carlotta began to lather his wet hair, then moved her gentle hands to his face, avoiding his eyes. “There!” she said when she finished. “You may rinse yourself now.”

He plunged once more below the water. When he came up, his wife was holding out a towel. He grabbed it and dried his eyes, then his hair, then tossed it back to Carlotta.

Next, she began to wash his shoulders and his chest. Each gentle swirl of her magical hands sent his heart racing. With the firelight playing on her face, he smiled at the black smudges there.

He thought of the rush of emotions that had filled him when he had pulled her into him as they stood in the dark mine shaft. She had not cared that he dirtied her dress. As, indeed, she seemed not to care now that she was most likely dirtier than she had ever been in her entire life.

He loved her all the more for it. She had put him above herself. She loved him! He could storm from the room and shout his love for her from the rooftop!

“We shall need to trade places, my love,” he said. “Next, it shall be my turn to wash you.”

A smile slid across her face, and her eyes danced.

He stood up, his feet planted in the metal tub.

She offered her hand. “Come, allow me to dry you before the fire, love.”

As she dried him, he began to unfasten her dress, despite that he was nearly debilitated by her seductive actions. Finally, she let the toweling drop from him and she stood before his naked body as he finished removing her dress, then he picked her up and carried her to the bathing tub and set her in the water so gently the water seemed to part to receive her ivory body.

With erotic pleasure, he slowly wiped the black smudges from her delicate face. She slipped further into the tub, and her ebony tresses became submerged.

Next, his soapy hands moved to her breasts with lingering circular motions.

She gave him an imploring look with those great violet eyes of hers.

“Is it time, love?” he asked, his voice heavy with his need.

She nodded.

He stood and lifted her from the tub, the toweling gathered in his hands. In front of the firelight, he tenderly patted her dry, then he swooped her up into his arms again, swathed her in the toweling, and carried her to his bed, where he lay her on the emerald velvet counterpane.

By now he thought he would surely explode with his own need.

Her hand reached to cup him where his need was greatest, and he flicked it away. “I can't wait, sweetheart.”

He put one knee on the bed, then the other between her knees as the first knee came to settle on the other side of her.

She whimpered as her hands came up to stroke his inner thighs.

He could wait no further. He drove himself into his wife's warm sheath with a ravaging, throbbing hunger. She, too, ground herself into him. 'Twas as if he could not plunge deep enough to fill her. She frantically pounded up into him until at last she shuddered uncontrollably beneath him and cried out his name.

* * *

Long after her exhausted husband had gone to sleep, Carlotta lay in the circle of his embrace. Despite the tragedy that had occurred this day and the grief they all had endured, she was the most fortunate woman alive. First, because her beloved husband had been spared. Second, because James, in the heat of their lovemaking, had said, “God, but I love you Carlotta!”

Knowing little pride where her husband was concerned, Carlotta had answered, “And I love you, dearest, with all my heart.”

Though their lovemaking had always been passionate, tonight's was the most exhilarating yet. She had never felt more content. More complete. She felt as if she could burst with her limitless love for this man she had married.

Making the night even more special was the knowledge that this was the first time she had lain in her husband's bed. Now she was truly his countess. Her heart swelled when she wondered if the next Earl of Rutledge could have been conceived in this very bed.

Tonight would be the first time they would stay together all through the night. She wondered if they would make love again in the morning.

* * *

When morning came, she felt James stirring beside her and her lids lifted to discover him, his head propped on his hands, looking happily down into her face. She reached out to stroke his muscled arm and grew excited to remember neither of them wore any clothing whatsoever.

“Your touch may get me started again, love,” he warned.

“A pity,” she said playfully, continuing to stroke him.

He dove at her, and in minutes, they were spent and panting beneath the covers.

Allowing only enough time for his breath to return to normal, James bolted up. “As much as I should cherish spending the entire day in bed with you, love, I have grave duties to attend to today.”

He got up and strode to his dressing room.

She watched his supple muscles, admiring the well formed body of the man she loved, then she got up and followed him so that she, too, could get dressed. “I'll help you with your boots if you will do my buttons,” she said with a smile. “How is it that both Peggy and Mannington knew to stay away this morning?”

“No doubt it's a sixth sense servants seem to be born with.”

* * *

They went down to breakfast together. He would have to put his pleasurable thoughts behind him now for he had grim duties to perform today.

Throughout most of the breakfast they were quiet. He was amazed at how well Carlotta had come to sense his moods. Even last night, her gentleness, her loving, was the only emotion he could have stood. She had known how deeply he was hurting, and she had known how to balm him.

“What are you going to do about the mines?” she asked.

Good Lord, she had learned how to read his thoughts!
Their eyes met and held in confirmation of the melding of their thoughts.

He shrugged. “What will the men do if I decide to close the mine?”

She closed her small hand over his much bigger one. “You'll think of something.”

He nodded grimly, then stood.

“I'm going with you,” she said, getting to her feet.

He knew he had to allow her this. As much as he did not want her to come. She was truly his other half now. No longer could he exclude her.

* * *

Despite that Carlotta had begged her husband not to go into the pits, he did. She had known he would. And as long as he was under, she refused to leave.

It had been late afternoon before they were able to open up the caved-in shaft and pull out the asphyxiated bodies of Douglas Covington and Matthew Linderman. Carlotta turned her head when they brought up the bodies. She wished she could have turned the heads of the women and children who had gathered around throughout the day. Especially the children.

Once she was assured her husband would not go back into the mines, she left for the Covington cottage, James insisting that young Willy accompany her.

Several women were still gathered around the grieving widow, who sat in the same place on her sopha where she had sat the night before. Only today she held her infant—Douglas's infant, too—to her breast. She looked up at Carlotta with hollow eyes, red rimmed from crying.

“Thank ye, me lady, for sending the victuals to me children,” Mrs. Covington said. “I dare say there's enough to last a month.”

“I know how difficult it will be for you to cook, with your grief being so great,” Carlotta said.

Tears sprang to Mrs. Covington's eyes, and she nodded.