The Secret Life of Lady Lucinda (6 page)

“I…” Lucy began, but her voice faltered. She paused, then took a deep, quivering breath. “All of this…I have no idea what to do, what to expect, or what
you
might expect of me. What if I disappoint you? And the mere thought of…of getting undressed in front of you when I’ve never even kissed anyone before kissing you at Trenton House that night…” Her words trailed off while her cheeks flamed with visible embarrassment.

William felt his heart tighten. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel uncomfortable. However, they were husband and wife now, and this was their wedding night. Part of him feared that if they couldn’t get this part of their marriage right, then they’d stand no chance at all with the rest of it. Hoping to reassure her, he said, “I think you’ll find that your mind has turned this into a far greater ordeal than it is likely to be for either one of us.” He shifted a little in order to face her. “And, if I may make a suggestion, a kiss does seem like a lovely way to begin.” Lucy’s eyes roamed over his face. It was almost as if she was searching for something. He couldn’t tell if she found what she was looking for, but to his relief, she eventually nodded her agreement. “I’ll let you set the pace,” he then said, forcing a calm and soothing tone that he hoped might put her at better ease. “I’ve no intention of rushing you into anything that you’re not ready for, especially not when this is your first time.”

She blinked as if she could scarcely believe that he was being so kind. Good God, he’d made her think him the very devil the way he’d chastised and mocked her in the carriage. It had been unavoidable though, for he’d been furiously angry with her—had wanted to hurt her somehow—and since he wasn’t one to beat a woman, he’d chosen to do it with words.

He watched her now as she took courage and leaned toward him, her lips pursing as they met with his for the briefest of kisses—the most chaste he’d experienced in years. A rich scent of roses wrapped itself around him as she lingered, and there was something about the intimacy of the moment that sent his heart racing in his chest while a rich, velvety heat surged to his groin. Lord help him, he hadn’t even seen her naked yet.

As she leaned back and met his gaze, he took her hand in his and gently squeezed it. “That was…a good beginning, though perhaps a bit timid.” He noticed the look of despair in her eyes and quickly continued. “I believe I may have a little more experience in this department. Would you mind terribly if I gave you a small demonstration?”

With a shake of her head, she gave her approval, upon which he wasted not a second more. Drawing her against him, he lowered his mouth over hers and held her firmly in place, the silk of her robe rippling beneath his fingers.

This second kiss was as soft and gentle as her attempt at first, but then he drew her bottom lip between his own, teasing it apart from the upper. It took but a moment for her lips to part of their own accord, and once they did, his tongue was swift to slip between them.

He felt her tense beneath his hold and immediately stopped before allowing himself to get carried away. He wanted her, though he doubted she’d noticed the proof of his growing desire. He’d assured her that he wouldn’t rush her into something that she wasn’t ready for, and he intended to keep his word. Besides, he wasn’t the sort of man to take a woman against her will—not even his own wife.

Pulling away, he searched her eyes for the smallest hint that she wasn’t doing this for his sake alone but that she wanted him as desperately as he now wanted her.

Disappointment gushed into his stomach at what he saw. He found no sign of hunger in her eyes, but something far worse. She looked determined, like a good little girl intent on doing her chores for fear of being punished. Was that really what he’d turned this into—a burden to be overcome? Releasing her completely, he increased the distance between them. “There’s no need for us to be hasty.” His voice sounded foreign to his own ears. “Let’s take some time to adjust—get to know each other a bit better like you suggested. We have the rest of our lives ahead of us for this.”

“But, my lord…”

“Don’t worry. You’ve shown yourself to be a most obedient wife.” He failed to mask the bitterness in his voice as he got up and walked to the door, his hand reaching for the handle. With his mind made up, he could barely get away from her fast enough. “Perhaps this trip to Constantinople will be just the thing to help our marriage onto the right track, but in return I want you to make me a promise.”

“Anything at all, my lord.”

“Don’t ever deceive me again, or I swear to you that I shall make your life miserable.” His tone was harsher than he’d intended, but it couldn’t be helped. His unrequited desire had made him angry again, and besides, he couldn’t abide lies, especially not when they came from his own wife. He wanted a partner, someone he’d be able to trust with his life if it ever came to that. Perhaps it was his experience as an agent that made this so vital for him. He knew the risk that came with trust; he’d learned that in Paris upon discovering a trusted colleague had deceived both him and England two years earlier. No, when it came to his wife, he needed to know that she would not betray him. Anything else would be intolerable. “Be loyal and honest, and the two of us might be able to get along.”

Lucy watched him go while a cold shiver raced down her spine. William had shown her nothing but kindness and understanding in return for her dishonesty. He was a good man, she realized, but if she lied to him again, she’d feel his wrath—of that she had no doubt. But how could she be honest? He’d never allow her to go through with her plan if he knew what it entailed. And what if he found out who she really was? She didn’t know him well enough to trust him not to tell anyone, and she knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that if word got out that she was still alive, not only would her life be in immediate danger, but she’d also be running the risk of failure.

She rose from the bed and walked across to the window, pulled back the curtain, and peered out at the starry sky. Small pools of water began to gather in her eyes. She’d hoped to remain indifferent and cold toward William, but the kindness he’d shown her was making her feel like the worst sort of ogre imaginable. If only they’d met under different circumstances—if they had, she knew that he was precisely the sort of man that she might consider falling for.

Turning her back on the darkness outside, she removed her dressing gown and climbed into bed. Unfortunately, with her plans just beginning to move into action, falling in love with her husband would be just about the worst idea in the world. The last thing she needed right now was to become some doe-eyed female who couldn’t think straight because her heart was too busy going pitter patter. On a deep sigh of agitation she tried to push the image of William from her mind, but however much she wished it otherwise, she couldn’t deny that her stomach had fluttered when he’d kissed her.

C
HAPTER
S
IX

“I
understand you’ll be off soon?” Andrew Hutchins, otherwise known as the Earl of Fairfield, asked as he took a sip of Champagne.

William nodded in response to his friend’s question. “It seems as if her ladyship has a desire to visit Turkey, though I can’t for the life of me understand why.”

“Consider yourself lucky, William. There are far worse places to travel to. When my brother Rupert got married for instance, his wife insisted that they spend a whole month at some distant relative’s estate in Tuscany. I suppose it may have had its charm and all that, but if the countryside was what she wished for, then I don’t see why they couldn’t just as well have remained at home and saved the money.” He leaned closer to William’s ear. “Don’t you dare tell them I said that.”

William chuckled. “I wouldn’t dream of it, old chap.”

“So when are you leaving anyway?”

“Two weeks from today, though I have the distinct feeling that her ladyship would have liked to be on her way already. Personally, I can’t see the urgency—must be one of those female notions I’ll never comprehend. In any event, I told her that it might be wise of us not to hurry off before we’d had a dinner in her honor—get her better acquainted with my family and friends and so on. After all, things have been rather rushed around here lately. I see no harm in allowing our lives to settle a bit first.”

“I rather imagine that you are trying to put your foot down. You can’t do it soon enough, you know, or she’ll be running you ragged. After all, I very much doubt that a house full of guests is what you really desire, thus confirming my suspicions, though I dare say you may have traded one evil for another.”

William frowned. Perhaps Andrew was right. Perhaps he
had
used the idea of a house party as an excuse to show Lucy that, although he would grant her the trip to Constantinople, they’d leave when he was ready to do so and not a moment sooner. But there was a little more to it than that. He was the master of Moorland Manor now—a place that had once been alive with music and laughter. All of that had died with his mother, and it was something that he greatly missed. Now that he was married, he’d decided that it might be time to breathe some life back into the old estate.

He’d invited his family and his good friends Lord Fairfield and Lord Reinhardt. Following a run-in with Lord Galensbury at White’s, Lord Fairfield had conversationally mentioned his invitation to Moorland, upon which Galensbury had immediately written to William, politely asking if he might join. Well, why not?

Another letter had soon followed, wherein Galensbury mentioned that he’d had a run in with Lord Stanton, and would William mind terribly if he came as well? Of course not—the more the merrier, William had decided.

Mary and Alexandra had in turn invited a couple of young ladies each in order to even the numbers between the gentlemen and the ladies—not that he much cared for a bunch of young hens parading about in the hopes of impressing one of his friends, but his aunt had insisted. In any event, it did appear as though everyone was having a jolly good time, though they were still two men short, Lord Galensbury and Lord Stanton having yet to arrive.

“I dare say you’ve made quite a catch with this one,” Lord Reinhardt said as he strolled over to where William and Andrew were standing. “I just spent a good fifteen minutes in conversation with her ladyship, and I have to say, her knowledge regarding the political state of Europe is quite commendable. There’s a lot more substance to her than to any of the young debutantes, that’s for sure.” He nodded discreetly toward Lady Amanda, Miss Scott, Lady Hyacinth, and Miss Cleaver, all of whom must have taken his momentary attention as a sign of interest, for they all turned into a bunch of snickering imbeciles a second later.

William ignored them and darted a look across the room to where his wife was seated, animatedly discussing something or other with his aunt and Lady Ridgewood. “Surely you must be joking, Charles.” His gaze returned to Reinhardt.

If Charles was put out by his friend’s lack of confidence in his judgment, he failed to show it. “Be that as it may,” he said, “she knew all about Tsar Alexander’s orders to have the Jesuits removed from Russia as well as the formation of the senate in Finland. In fact, she was quite opinionated about both matters.”

William could say nothing to that. Lucy was clearly full of surprises, and this, he decided, was a rather pleasant one. He didn’t mind having a wife whose head wasn’t merely filled with what he considered to be fluff. On the contrary, he felt relieved to know that he might be able to have a meaningful conversation with her, though it did irritate him a little that Charles had been the one to discover this instead of him. Then again, he and Lucy had barely spoken more than two words to each other since their rendezvous in her bedroom, despite their agreement to improve upon their acquaintance.

That was five days ago now—the longest five days of William’s life, especially since he couldn’t seem to get the feeling of her body pressed against his out of his mind. It drove him half mad whenever he saw her. The desire to fling himself on top of her and ravage her was growing stronger with each day that passed. Yet he couldn’t very well do so without terrifying her. Thankfully, there was a cold lake on the property for him to jump into; indeed, he’d never taken so many swims in all his life.

“What the devil’s keeping Stanton and Galensbury?” he suddenly asked, for lack of anything better to say, if not to take his mind off the fact that his own stupid sense of chivalry was now keeping him from the marriage bed. “They should have been here an hour ago.”

“Well I hope that they arrive soon and remove some of the attention from the rest of us,” Charles said, just as Miss Scott raised her hand and waved at him teasingly. He responded with a scowl that immediately resulted in another burst of laughter from the young women.

“Do try to enjoy yourself, Charles,” William said, though he couldn’t help but sympathize. He knew all too well what it felt like to be hunted; he’d endured it himself for the last few seasons and had consequently grown attuned to which women posed a threat to him, avoiding each of them in the same way he might avoid an enemy in the field. He’d made his plans, certain that he would never be trapped.

Well, so much for that. In the space of half an hour, perhaps even less, Lucy had swooped into his life and claimed him as her own. She might as well have bound and gagged him, for there had been just as little chance of escape. His eyes flittered past Charles again to where she was sitting—laughing now at something his aunt had said. He had an urge to march over there, pick her up, and give her a good shake for all the nuisance she’d brought to his doorstep.