The Captain's Christmas Bride (16 page)

‘Most of the village boys, you see,’ she resumed, without turning back to him, ‘were horribly rough. And followed Nick and Herbert’s lead in bullying and tormenting Marianne. David was the only one who didn’t. He was quiet, and studious. Eventually, Papa learned that he had a very quick mind, and granted him permission to borrow books from his library, so that he became a frequent visitor to the house. And we—the three of us—became friends.’ She heaved a sigh. ‘And then there was the spaniel, Silky. Papa let Marianne and I have her for a pet, because she was gun shy. One day there was an accident in the stables. Silky got trampled. Nick was going to break her neck, to put her out of her suffering, he said. But when Marianne burst into tears, David stopped him. Promised to heal her. Even then, he was interested in medicine.’

Good grief. The way she was talking made it sound as if she regarded him as a cross between Sir Gawain and St Francis of Assisi. He was still trying to school his expression into its usual wooden immobility when she finally turned her head and looked up at him.

‘He will be a good doctor,’ she insisted.

Maybe. But with that stocky build and scholarly disposition he’d run to fat before he turned thirty.

‘And I can see that marrying Marianne will be a good match for him, in many ways.’ She sighed. ‘For one thing, Papa has told me he arranged a very generous dowry when she told him of their intention. Which will ensure they can set up house, and David can start up a practice somewhere, in some comfort when he qualifies.’

‘Wise man, your father. He has rid you of them both at a stroke.’

‘Oh.’ Her eyes widened.

He braced himself for a flurry of feminine fury. Instead, after only a moment’s reflection, she slumped into the squabs in an attitude of defeat.

‘Yes,’ she admitted glumly. ‘You are probably correct. He never appeared to dislike Marianne more than he disliked anyone else. But then neither does he appear to understand how...lonely I will be without her.’

You have me, now, he almost blurted. But what sort of a damn fool thing was it to say? He was no substitute for a lifelong companion, or the chivalrous knight she’d created out of her girlish imagination. He was just a man. A man, moreover, who wasn’t used to dealing with women.

‘We are here now,’ she said despondently as the carriage drew to a halt. But she made no move to get out. And her face was working, as though she was really, really struggling to compose herself.

Well, here was his chance to prove that he was worth a dozen of that weasel Gawain of Assisi. Taking her in his arms, he planted a ruthless kiss on her mouth.

She stiffened in surprise. But only for as long as it took to gasp. With her second breath she was melting into his embrace like butter in a hot skillet.

When a footman opened the carriage door, she yelped in surprise. The footman withdrew in haste, though he remained standing in his position, holding the door open for them to alight.

Julia’s face was beet red as he handed her out of the coach. She looked anywhere but at the footman. Though he’d already averted his eyes and adopted the wooden expression of an underling who was pretending he hadn’t seen what he’d just seen.

Before she had a chance to do or say anything to ruin his plan, he hefted her into his arms and carried her into the house.

‘What are you doing?,’ she hissed into his ear. ‘How could you embarrass me like that? Like this?’

‘Easily,’ he replied as he swept past the butler, and up the stairs.

He set her on her feet only when they’d reached her room and he’d kicked the door closed behind them.

‘You are too fragile to face anyone just yet,’ he explained, stepping back from her, just a touch.

‘Fragile?’ She looked affronted.

‘And too proud to admit it. I have just given you the perfect excuse to stay out of sight until you do feel ready to resume your duties for the day.’

‘I... You...oh!’ Her face worked as she fought for composure. ‘You are right,’ she admitted, her shoulders slumping.

‘Damn you, you want to add, I dare say.’

She lifted her chin, a mutinous glint in her eye. ‘I would never descend to using such language.’

‘But you wish you could. You’d feel better for it.’ He placed his hat on the table by the door, removed his gloves and dropped them inside it, then crossed the room to make use of the bell pull.

‘We will need supplies,’ he explained, when she looked at him in a mixture of exasperation and confusion. ‘Enough to last us until you are fit to return to active duty.’ He went to her side and removed the furs from her shoulders.

‘Mabel can do that,’ she snapped, taking a step back.

‘Ah, but it will look much more the thing if you are a bit less...dressed,’ he said, tugging the ribbons of her bonnet undone, ‘by the time the maid gets up here. A bit more...’ he tossed the bonnet aside, and set to work on the buttons of her coat ‘...ruffled.’

When she opened her mouth to make another protest, he silenced her with a kiss. A long kiss. A kiss in which their tongues duelled for mastery. A kiss which left them both heated and shaking with desire.

When the maid eventually did arrive, Julia looked delightfully ruffled. As well as bemused, and a bit cross. Like a kitten who’d just had her fur stroked the wrong way.

‘We need hot drinks,’ he informed the smiling maid. ‘And a loaf of bread, butter, preserves, and a toasting fork.’

The maid bobbed a curtsy and left.

‘A toasting fork?’ Julia eyed him with confusion.

‘I’m hungry,’ he said with a shrug. ‘Aren’t you?’

One of her hands went to her stomach. ‘Yes. I could eat something. But...’

‘Come,’ he said, taking hold of her other hand. ‘Let’s sit by the fire.’

She eyed him warily as he pulled her down onto the hearthrug.

‘Don’t worry. I’m not going to pounce.’ Did just the tiniest hint of disappointment flicker across her face? ‘Yes, we would enjoy it. Both of us. But we will enjoy making...toast together, too.’

Her face flushed. But the tense set of her mouth relaxed. Which was a start. He couldn’t resort to kissing her crotchets away every time they hit a snag. He wanted their marriage to be about more than just physical pleasure. So they were going to have to learn to get along with each other out of bed, as well as in it. And right now, while she was unwilling to leave the shelter he was providing for her, was as good a time as any to start creating new connections. To do something as harmless, and as pleasant, as kneeling on the hearthrug, toasting bread. To show her that she had a new companion now, rather than just telling her.

A companion who was worth ten of either of her childhood playmates.

‘I...I do like toast,’ she admitted shyly. Then gave him a smile that rocked him on his heels. For she’d never looked at him like that before. As though he’d just done something utterly wonderful. As though he’d provided the answer to how she was going to get through the day.

As though he could be her answer to anything.

* * *

Who would have thought being married to Alec could be so...pleasant? Julia raised her arms above her head, stretching her whole body like a cat. She felt like a cat. A cat who’d got at the cream, she smiled. Beside her lay the man she’d only met a handful of days ago. The man she’d accidentally coerced into marriage. The man who hadn’t cavilled at his fate, but simply decided to make the best of it.

And what a best it was turning out to be. Not only could he drive her wild with pleasure in bed, but she was starting to enjoy just...just talking to him. Or doing something as silly as kneeling on the hearth toasting bread. Or walking briskly round the gardens first thing, before the day began to make demands upon them which invariably separated them until mealtimes.

He’d even made mealtimes more enjoyable. He only had to meet her eye across the table, with a certain slight lift to one eyebrow, to let her know that he was completely in tune with the way she was feeling. And afterwards, he’d confirm it by saying exactly the kind of thing she’d thought about various of her relatives for years, but had never had the freedom to say openly.

Not even with Marianne.

She’d never had real discussions with Marianne. Whereas Alec—and oh, how she was starting to relish the way his name rolled off her tongue—Alec spoke his mind. Behind closed doors, that was. And the more he spoke, the more she was beginning to think they might be able to forge the kind of marriage she’d always hoped to have. A meeting of minds. A sort of close and loving friendship.

A better, truer sort of friendship than she’d shared with David, or Marianne, who, actually, she realised, had never been true friends at all. Now that she knew Marianne had always been jealous of her, and resentful of her lot in life, she’d started looking on their time together in a new light. And what that light shone on their relationship threw up a lot of ugly, dark shadows.

What stood out the most, though, was the way that Marianne always managed to make her feel big and fat and ungainly. She’d always thought it was just because Marianne was so slight, and dark, and elegant. But now she recalled dozens of innocuous little remarks that had gradually built up into a mountain of insecurity. The masquerade, for instance. Marianne had made such a production of getting the dress done up, but if she’d really been putting such a strain on the fastenings, at least one of them would have given way during the course of the evening, considering the activities she’d performed in it. It was, without question, a snugger fit than any other gown she’d ever worn, but not a button had popped, not a seam had split. In fact, Nellie herself had said that the dress looked better on her. Every single man she’d met had positively drooled at the sight of her in it.

She was going to have all her gowns made to fit better, rather than having them all cut loose to disguise what she’d previously thought of as a lumpish body.

Alec didn’t think her body was lumpish at all. He adored it. He thought her breasts magnificent, and her bottom, lush. And if he said that, then he meant it. He’d always been honest with her. Had been brutally honest, to begin with. Though even then, it had never been with intent to wound. Which, she found, made all the difference.

For the first time in her life, he’d made her feel as if there was nothing wrong with her after all. Her older brothers had always despised her for being Papa’s pet. The younger ones naturally preferred each other’s company. And even Papa only praised her for the attributes he decided came from her mother, rather than all of her, exactly as she was.

‘Are you staring at me again, woman?’

She came out of her reverie to note that Alec’s eyes were half-open, and a slow, rather arrogant smile was spreading across his wickedly clever mouth.

She shut her eyes swiftly, but not swiftly enough. He chuckled.

‘You don’t need to pretend you don’t like looking at me,’ he growled.

She screwed her eyes tighter shut as her cheeks flamed. She
did
need to pretend she didn’t like looking at him. Because it was highly improper. Ladies didn’t ogle men when they were shaving, or lick their lips at the sight of a bare, hair-roughened chest. Or lay and gaze at the curve of a shoulder in the firelight, marvelling at the beauty of masculine musculature.

‘I like looking at you, when you are unclothed, too,’ he said.

His admission pulled her in two opposing directions at once. She knew he liked the sight of her body. She’d just been lying there reflecting on how wonderful it made her feel when he told her. What a thrill she’d get when he buried his face between her breasts and sigh, as though he’d found a sort of heaven.

And yet she still couldn’t get used to this sort of licentious talking. It was highly improper to hear a man talking about parts of her body she’d been brought up to believe weren’t polite to mention. Especially when he’d had his hands on them. Or his mouth. Or other, unmentionable parts of his body.

And, oh, heavens, just letting her mind drift in that direction was making her go all heated inside.

‘I should be getting up,’ she said, darting free of the covers just before his hand could close over its target. ‘I have so much to do today.’

‘Another ball?’

His mouth tightened as she thrust her arms into her wrapper, her feet into fleece-lined slippers.

‘I know it must look to you as though my life is just one long round of parties,’ she explained as she crossed the room to ring for hot water. ‘But, you see, at Christmas, Papa fulfils a great many of his obligations to his people. While he is in residence at Ness, he always extends invitations to everyone in the county that matters. As well as the locals, and the extended family. Some days he takes parties of local worthies out shooting, and then he relies on me to make sure their wives and daughters are looked after within doors. And there isn’t anyone else to do it. Nick’s wife...’ She pulled a face.

‘I get the distinct impression that when your brother comes into the title, all the hospitality will cease.’

‘I wouldn’t be a bit surprised.’ She sighed. ‘He doesn’t seem to think that he owes anybody anything. The tenants, as far as he is concerned, are only there to provide him with the means to live in luxury. I worry,’ she said, settling her hip on the edge of the bed when he held out his hand to her. ‘About what will happen to the estate once Papa...goes.’

‘I can understand that particular mix of interest and impotence,’ he said, surprising her because she’d half-expected him to say it wasn’t her concern.

‘You know my own lands are mortgaged. That there is nothing much I can do for my tenants, but it doesn’t stop me wishing...’

‘But you could redeem those mortgages now, couldn’t you?’ She’d blurted it before she had time to consider how prickly he was about spending her money on himself. When he started to scowl, she hurried on. ‘I know you have scruples about what you call squandering my money, but you wouldn’t be squandering it, as far as I’m concerned. You would be investing it for our children. For your estates, your heritage, will be their inheritance, won’t it?’

Oh, heavens, if he did decide to redeem the mortgages, and put his estates to rights, it would mean going to live in Scotland. All the way up there in Scotland. She swallowed. Julia had never visited Scotland. It was supposed to be very rugged, but in a way that many people found beautiful.