The Infamous Bride (25 page)

"Good judgment," his father said mildly. "Remarkable, then, to think she allowed you to climb up to her balcony and make love to her when she barely knew you."

R.J. flushed. "No — "

His father asked quizzically, "She is a heartless flirt, then. Who calculatingly lured you into her seductive web so that she could enjoy your fortune?"

"No — " How could he explain Juliet to his father? "Once you meet her, Father, you will see that you have nothing to fear. She will be an asset to me. To my work. To our family."

His father sighed. A single sigh heavy with disappointment. "Annabel provided me with all the details I need."

R.J. began to protest, but his father raised a hand to halt him and said, "I will welcome your bride."

R.J. subsided with a nod. He could not ask for more.

His father continued, "I have little choice, given the circumstances. You are fortunate that Annabel feels we can hide what happened in England. Given that you went with the express intention of finding a bride, no one should question the fact that you brought one home."

"I hoped you would see it that way."

Jonathan rubbed wearily at his temple. "But I tell you this. If your bride causes any scandal for our family, I will hold you responsible." He sighed, as if bearing a heavy burden. "Just so you understand what hangs on this momentous decision which you made without use of your common sense: I will not only disinherit you, but you, your wife, and any children she bears you will be out of my life as if you never existed."

"Father!" R.J. could not mask his shock at his father's cold statement.

Jonathan Hopkins, ever uncomfortable with emotion, shook his head as if to deny that he had said anything that should upset his son. "Enough. We need not have raised voices in my office."

"I — "

"Calm yourself, R.J. We are merely discussing what must be. I had hoped you did not inherit any of your mother's more unfortunate traits. But I see that was a vain hope."

"It is not." R.J. stood, unwilling to accept his father's judgment without comment.

"Good. I hope that is true, that your baser instinct has not led you into ruination." His father had not looked so sharply at him since the time he carelessly let one of Annabel's birds fly away through an open window. "If it has, I will not tolerate you taking our family business with it."

"I understand, Father." For the first time in his life, R.J. did not wait to be dismissed. He stood to leave. "And now you will understand that I need to go see that my wife is settled in our temporary quarters. You can expect that I will do all in my power to find us a new home within the next few weeks."

He had never been so abrupt with his father before, but Jonathan Hopkins's words rang in his ears. Cut him out of his life? After all he had done to prove himself? Surely his father was exaggerating, punishing him for his one, quickly remedied, indiscretion.

"R.J." His father's voice softened. "Annabel and I think it best if you remain here, in our home, for the time being."

"I would prefer to begin my own household, sir," R.J. said firmly.

"Annabel thinks your bride may benefit from her tutelage more if she is close by. At least until the new year. She wants to make certain that your wife is well settled in our society, you understand."

Well settled, without scandal. R.J. understood. "That is generous of Mama Annabel. I will thank her at dinner. But I do not know that we need to be under your roof for Juliet to benefit from her wisdom."

"Annabel will see to your bride," his father repeated sternly. "And after that, if all is well, then you may settle your new household to your liking. I will not stand in your way."

A chill of comprehension raced through him. His father was refusing him the funds to begin a new household. Without his father's consent, R.J. could not withdraw such a large sum from the business. The dowry that the duke had bestowed upon Juliet had been generous, but not generous enough to cover the cost of a fashionable household for long. He left without further word. The meeting had left him more shaken than he would have his father know.

Bitterly, he wondered when his father would decide that he had passed all his tests and need not be examined for potential failure any further? Probably not for some time longer, now that he had acquired a woman named Juliet for a wife in such a scandalous manner. But that had been an ocean away, and now they were respectably married.

There were only two others besides himself and Juliet who knew the truth of their hasty courtship. He tried to imagine Annabel spreading gossip that would harm Susannah's chances for a good marriage and could not.

He doubted that Susannah was likely to announce the scandal, since she had developed a distinct fondness for Juliet. Much to Annabel's chagrin.

But with Juliet in the midst of accustoming herself to Boston ways — He must make certain that he convinced her to take Annabel's lead in making her way. The sooner he was out of his father's household, the better for them both.

He hurried up to his bedroom, eager to see his wife and reassure himself she was not the two-headed monster his father seemed to think she was. He stopped short in the open doorway, however. The room was — Well, there was no other word for it but chaos. Trunks sat open, and brightly colored clothing rioted on every surface, including his bed. Juliet.

He enjoyed the sight, letting his father's warning melt from his mind like spring snow. She sat at a small dressing table, before a mirror that he had used for draping his cravats.

He closed the door, admiring his wife in her wrapper, fresh from her bath. His wife. The reality struck him anew, here in his formerly solitary bedroom. She slowly worked some cream or other into her cheeks, chin, and forehead. He suspected her mind was elsewhere, for she didn't seem to notice that he had arrived. He was content to lean back against the door and enjoy the sight.

After an amount of time that could have been seconds, or hours, she glimpsed him in her mirror. Her eyes reflected a similar surprise to his own at the idea of sharing a bedroom. A reflection of the same pleasure he felt. And then she frowned.

As she turned, he saw her struggle to hide her sudden anxiety. "How is your father? Has he disinherited you?"

Juliet's concern jolted him back to reality from the pleasant fantasy he had been enjoying. "Of course he has not disinherited me." Not yet.

"He is well? He did not let you refresh yourself after our travels before he summoned you."

"He is hale and hearty and eager to hear how my business prospered." Should he tell her what his father had said?

No. He did not want to see the smile on her face dim — or disappear. He had sensed her building tension as they had left the ship and traveled to what, for him, was home. No doubt, to her, this house, Boston itself, was as strange as all of London had been for him. She needed time to settle before he burdened her with his father's fears.

"He could not wait for that?" She raised her comb, her expression disapproving. "Your father is as impatient as you if he could not let you change before he had the business details from you." She ran the comb through her hair, leaving order where there had been tangles.

He moved to stand next to her, his hands on her shoulders. "My father is all business." He lifted her sweet scented hair to his nose for a moment. "Time is precious in business. A few days' lead on the competition can make all the difference."

"So he is not as furious at you as Annabel expected?" She lifted another pot of cream from her dressing table and began to stroke it into her neck. The scent of roses wafted up to tickle his nose.

Better to give her a compliment than a warning right now. "You are beautiful. You don't need all these little jars of ... whatever these are."

She smiled at him, distracted, as he had intended.

"What do you know, silly man?"

"I know you are the most enchanting woman I have ever seen in my bedroom."

Her laughter was music to his ears. She had not laughed as freely since their hasty wedding. "And just how many women have you had in your bedroom, sir?"

"Only my wife." He bent to press a kiss to her damp hair. "Who is much too beautiful for pots and potions."

She leaped up and threw her arms around his neck.

"I must do all this" — she gestured to the little table of creams and beauty ointments — "so that I remain beautiful in your eyes."

He stood quiet, enjoying the feel of her pressed against him. Idly, so as to keep her there, he raised his hands to circle her neck and stroke up the straight column.

His thumbs skimmed lightly, but still he could feel her pulse accelerate. Her response redoubled his until he could hear the blood rush like a hot waterfall inside him.

She sighed in pleasure and gave herself up to the caress, her eyes half-closed in contentment. The slim, straight neck bent for him, offering him access to the most sensitive place under her ear. So fragile under his hands. Almost as fragile as his hold on his father's respect. He could lose everything he held dear with one mistake. But he would not.

Pushing back any doubt, he bent to kiss her neck and paused to allow the sweet scent of her to waft over him. He would be on guard for them both. He would make certain that nothing went wrong.

She brushed her cheek against his chest and then recoiled with a small sound of distress. "Oh, look what I've done." She dabbed at the cream she had rubbed onto his jacket.

"Don't worry. Mrs. Marlberry is a wonder at getting stains out of clothing." He tried to bring her back into his arms. She resisted him with a teasing laugh, pushing him toward the dressing-room door. "Hurry and bathe or the water will get cold. Your father kept you quite some time."

Reluctantly, he moved to the dressing room. The humid air promised a still-warm tub as he worked his cravat loose.

She peeked around the doorframe. "You need help," she declared with a wicked smile. And then she was helping him off with his clothing.

He stood motionless under her ministrations, marveling at this new facet of a wife. She had never offered such a service aboard the ship. But then, he had been at work from before she woke to just before bed. They had come together only to make love. He had never known what he missed not to share quarters with her more intimately.

Her hands were as deft and skilled at undressing him as any servant's ever had been. But no servant's fingers would have trailed along his ribcage or caressed his hip in order to push his trousers down. Nor would a servant's hands have skimmed his legs as she bent to remove the trousers from around his ankles.

She folded the trousers neatly and put them on the rack meant for them, though she had to push aside some garment of her own draped there. She reached to unfasten his shirt, and he loosened the tie to her wrapper. Pulling her close against him, he said regretfully, "Dinner is in only two hours, Juliet."

"Then let me assist you in the bath." She reached into the tub and splashed a little water on him.

He divested himself of the remainder of his clothes and reached for her with a laugh.

There was no point worrying her with his father's ultimatum. Juliet would not be the final wedge between R.J. and his father.

Perhaps she would even bring a measure of happiness into this grim household. Odd, he thought, as her hands slipped wet and warm over him, he had never realized how stultifying his life had been until this moment. Until Juliet had turned his bedroom into a place of colorful, joyous chaos.

* * * * *

Juliet held tightly to R.J.'s arm as he led her into the dining room where the family was already seated. R.J.'s father was truly formidable sitting regally at the head of his long oak dining table.

He waited, watching them gravely and enigmatically as R.J. led her to his right.

R.J.'s arm was tense as a harp string under her hand. "Father, may I present my bride, Juliet."

Jonathan Hopkins stood and took her hand briskly in his for a moment. "Welcome to our family, my dear." He said nothing more, but she had a feeling there was more he wished to say.

Juliet couldn't help herself, she curtseyed. His expression was impossible to read, but Susannah's stifled gasp alerted her that a curtsey was not expected. He could have been furious. Equally, he could have been pleased. She did not know how to interpret the calm, neutral lines of his mouth and chin. Like father, like son.

She had never felt more keenly that she was no longer in the country of her birth, where she knew every nuance of the behavior expected of her. Silence hung for an awkward moment.

R.J. stepped in to say, "I'm sorry we are late for dinner, Father, Mama Annabel."

Juliet glanced up to see if he had meant his comment to sound bitter. He had seemed to think it an unexceptionable rule when he had explained it to her up in their room.

Of course, she had been tickling his ear with her tongue at the time. His face, however, she was dismayed to see, was as inscrutable as his father's.

Jonathan Hopkins, with a glance down the length of the table to the foot where his wife presided, said sternly, "Dinner is at eight sharp. You know Annabel deviates the schedule for no one, not even myself."

Guilt crept up her spine. It was her fault they had been late. She had not realized that a few minutes delay would be considered a mark against R.J.'s very character. She turned her most contrite look upon Annabel. "I must plead that exhaustion from the disruptions of travel has made me thoughtless." She felt R.J.'s start of surprise as she smiled as winsomely as she could at his father and lied without hesitation, "I am normally very prompt, I assure you."

She dared a glance into R.J.'s face. Again, Juliet could not see any emotion at all in the features that had become so familiar to her.

Annabel raised a brow at this assurance, but Jonathan Hopkins merely nodded and said, "I'm looking forward to learning all that can be learned about my son's wife." Again, she sensed a tension, almost regret, that was at odds with his bland expression.

"As I said, I'm sorry, Father." R.J. led her away from his father, toward a seat at Annabel's right hand. "Dressing for dinner was more complicated given that we have just arrived home. I assure you we will be on time tomorrow."