Caversham's Bride (The Caversham Chronicles - Book One) (27 page)

BOOK: Caversham's Bride (The Caversham Chronicles - Book One)
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When he got closer, she asked, “I was wondering where I might find my husband and my brother.”

“Yes, His Grace is in his study, awaiting your company.” He set the tray on a commode table, and led her down the hallway. “The young man has already been roused, and is dressing for dinner as His Grace has requested the boy’s presence in the dining room this night.”

Lia nodded and thanked the man, following him the rest of the way, until he announced her entrance in the masculine room. She met her husband’s molten metallic gaze as she stepped forward. Ren rose from the chair behind his massive desk and came around to meet her in the middle of the long room. Taking her small gloved hand in his larger one, he turned it over and kissed it affectionately in the center, his eyes never leaving hers.

Time stood still for Lia as she savored the heat of his lips through the silk of her gloves. Even though they’d made love only hours before, his touch sent shivers racing through her body. She sucked in a breath, unaware that she’d stopped breathing, and broke eye contact when she realized there were others in the room.

Ren stepped aside and taking her hand, led her deeper into the long room. He stopped before his uncle and the men she remembered from Genoa, his cousins. The three men smiled as her husband introduced them.

“Lia, you remember, my uncle, Angus,” he turned to the older of the three men, now clean shaven and freshly bathed. He appeared a weathered old businessman in his finely tailored dinner clothing, and when he smiled, appeared fatherly and warm. “Mr. Angus Culloden Sewell, I’d like for you to meet my wife, Her Grace, Angelia Serena, The Duchess of Caversham.” Angus bowed to her and when he rose took her hand and placed a kiss above the knuckles.

“Your Grace, it is my pleasure to welcome you to our family.”

“Thank you, Angus. I hope to make your nephew very happy.”

“I think ye already have from the looks of it, Your Grace.”

Ren moved to the first of his two cousins, a tall black-haired man, who looked like a much younger version of his father, and the second young man, who had some of his father’s features, but not the coloring. “Lia, it is long past time I introduce you properly to my two maternal cousins, and the remaining two partners in Aberdeen Trading Company.

“Mr. Culloden Lambert Sewell, and Mr. Flynn Lambert Sewell.” Addressing all three men, Ren said, “Gentlemen, may I present my Duchess, Lia.” His cousins bowed deeply and when they rose they too kissed the air above her knuckles.

Her husband’s cousins also were freshly shaved and bathed and she noticed, in their formal dinner attire, the family resemblance was strong, even with the red-headed cousin. “Gentlemen, I am honored to meet you both.” She turned to Captain Cully, the older of Ren’s two cousins, and said, “I thank you for caring for my brother during the voyage. No one knows more than I what a handful he can be.”

“’Twas nothing, Your Grace,” said the man. “Lucky will make a fine sailor one day.”

“Don’t tell her that Cully,” her husband warned. “My wife has other plans for her brother.”

“Children will always choose their own paths,” her husband’s uncle said, shaking his lightly peppered black hair. “There’s nothing you can do to prevent it.”

Ren asked for wine, and the men toasted her, their marriage, and this last trip which was looking as profitable as the previous ones. Talk soon turned to the issue of his cousin from the other side of his family tree, Lord Thomas Whitby. Ren mentioned that all was well with his grandmother and sisters at his country home, as he’d heard from the security chief at Haldenwood. He’d also received a report from the investigators searching for his cousin, they believe he is hiding in London.

As the men spoke and made plans to quit Town, Lia looked about her husband’s study. On her right, a step up from where she stood, rose a tall built-in bookcase with beveled glass doors, filled with books on business, law, architecture, agriculture and history. A circular table in the center of the room held another porcelain vase filled with fresh-cut spring flowers which perfumed the room with their delicate scent. She had noticed earlier that fresh flowers where everywhere in the house, in nearly every room and on all the tables in the foyer and hallways. Flowers were usually a decorating touch done by a woman. She couldn’t imagine that her husband was a gardener—at least not of this magnitude. She wondered if this was the work of the housekeeper. If not her, then who?

She glanced at her husband, still deeply involved in his conversation, and turned back to the flowers. Upon hearing a knock at the door, Ren called out for the person to enter. The door opened slowly, and her brother entered the room. She ran across the thick green and gold carpet, and wrapped her arms around Luchino, hugging him fiercely. The boy pulled himself away from her, pink-cheeked with embarrassment.

“What’s wrong, Luchino?” Lia asked him softly in Italian, knowing all eyes in the room were on them.

“Look at these clothes.” He pulled at his pants with both hands. “I’m not some baby that I have to wear knickers and stockings!”

Ren laughed, and Lia heard him explain to the other men what her brother had said. He came over and patted Luchino on the shoulder.

“Well, they were quite the thing when I wore them, some twenty-five years ago,” Ren said in Italian.

“I want grown up clothes and boots, Lia. Not these things,” her brother motioned to the frilly shirt and buttoned knee pants, then to the black, silver-buckled shoes with heels he was wearing. “These are girl shoes!”

Lia looked down at the items in question. The buckle looked too large for the shoe, which also had an unfashionably high heel for a man, much less for a child.

“We’ll have to see if we can’t remedy that for you tomorrow,” Ren replied, leading them all back to the group of men standing in front of the fireplace.

She saw the others’ attempt to hide their amused smirks, and felt a surge of protectiveness toward her brother. He’d grown up wearing different styled clothing. So she now had to help him acclimate to the clothing as well as the customs and language.

“Well, Lucky, you’re sure lookin’ quite the dandy,” Cully said.

Luchino looked from Cully back to her. She translated what he said.

“I don’t like these clothes,” her brother said slowly in English. “They are for babies.”

“Och, no, lad,” Cully replied. “Babes wear gowns. Even little boy babes.”

Again, Luchino looked to Lia for help in translating. After she did, he puffed his chest out and defiantly placed his hands on his hips, and said firmly, “I never wore gowns as a babe. My father wouldn’t allow my mother to put girl clothes on me.”

Just then relief from the conversation entered the room. Niles announced dinner, and Ren led the way, tucking his wife’s hand over his left forearm. His right hand covered hers, and Lia felt a shiver course through her body, creating bumps on her arms that, thankfully, were hidden by her long gloves and cap sleeves.

“Cold, dear?” Ren asked.

“Perhaps just a little.”

“I’ll see that the fire in the dining room is built up for you.” He leaned over to whisper in her ear, “And, later tonight, I’ll see to it you stay warm until morning.”

Blood rushed to the surface of her skin, making her blush instantly. All of a sudden, she felt a little weak in the knees and more than just a little light headed. Lia wondered at the effect this man had on her. Would he always have the ability to do this to her? With just his words? His touch? A glance? For her, these feelings were wondrous. She never thought she’d come to care for him so much. Originally, she told herself that this was just an agreement she had to make the best of. But during their weeks on the boat, she learned much about her husband as a man. And what she discovered caused possessive, protective feelings to take root in her heart.

She took her brother’s hand, knowing a conversation with him was far safer and less flustering. He told her about the puppy he found that morning, and that he’d already named it.

“I can’t wait to see him,” Lia said.

His dark eyes sparkled and his entire body shook with excitement. “We can go out right after we finish dinner!”

“I was thinking perhaps tomorrow morning.”

The boy sighed heavily in disappointment. “Okay. But can I see him after dinner? I’ll bring him some scraps. He’ll love it!”


Sì, caro.
” She ruffled the boy’s hair. He immediately flattened back the curls with his hands and stepped away from her, looking annoyed that she’d mussed his appearance.

“Thanks, Lia.”

 

C
HAPTER
F
OURTEEN

 

 

L
ia watched Luchino trying to covertly shove his linen napkin, bulging with scraps, into his coat pocket. She smiled as she realized she didn’t have the heart to tell him that the napkin wouldn’t fit. Closing her eyes, she said another silent prayer of thanks to have him back.

“Can I be excused now, Lia?” he asked softly.

She replied in a voice only he could hear, “Yes, just don’t get dirty again. You’ve already had one bath today.”

An indignant look replaced his mischievous smile. “I don’t need a bath just because my clothes get dirty. When I take the dirty clothes off, my body is still clean.”

Her brother backed his chair away from the table, making a loud scraping noise on the polished hardwood floor. Ren turned toward them, his attention pulled away from the men’s conversation by the sound.

“Are you going to the garden to feed your pup that third serving of beef tips?” he asked.

Luchino’s face turned a deep scarlet now that he’d been caught. He looked from Ren to Lia nervously. She smiled and nodded to him, letting him know it was fine, that he didn’t have to fear her new husband. “He is mine. I will care for him.” Luchino turned and ran from the room with his bulging dinner napkin in hand.

Lia listened to the gentlemen’s conversation for several minutes, then pushed her sorbet cup away from her slightly, feeling very full and suddenly tired. Glancing at Ren, she saw that he was still deeply involved in their discussion. She then fiddled with her wineglass, hoping to catch his attention so she could excuse herself to go to her room. Still, he didn’t notice her. She stared down at the gilt bronze mounts on the claw-footed base of the enormous mahogany table for a few moments, waiting.

Taking matters into her own hands, she nodded at the footman, who came to her place and aided her in sliding back the heavy chair. This got Ren to turn her way. Standing, she smiled at her husband and his relatives. “If you will excuse me, please, gentlemen. I find I am more tired than I thought.”

“Och, lass, a journey such as the one ye just had has been known to put some grown men to bed fer days,” said Angus, with a fatherly nod of his graying head. Lia noticed his brogue became more pronounced with each glass of wine he imbibed.

Ren walked her to the doorway, and leaned in closer and spoke softly near her ear, “I’ll join you shortly.” His warm breath stirred the baby-fine curls near her ear and sent chills over her sensitized skin. When he dropped a kiss on her cheek, her stomach began to roil. She needed to leave the room quickly. She nodded, then hurried the entire distance to her bedchamber. Once her door was shut she ran straight to the chamber pot, and expelled her dinner. Ghita walked in just as she reached for a damp cloth to wipe her face.

“Oh, my lady! Are you not well?” Her young maid’s face was full of concern for her new mistress.

“It’s nothing. I think the stress from the journey has finally caught up with me.” Lia lowered herself onto the end of the damask-covered chaise and put her head between her knees.

“Let me help you to bed.” Ghita helped her to her feet and began to undress her. Once she was in her night dress and all the pins had been removed from her hair, Lia eyed the bed longingly, then ran back to her chamber pot.

Minutes later she was snuggled in her bed, inhaling deeply the clean, floral scent of fresh sheets. She remembered Ren saying he was coming to join her shortly. As much as she enjoyed his lovemaking, what she really wanted was sleep.

 

R
en loosened his cravat, eager to join his wife next door. He wondered if she’d waited up for him, and found himself hoping she had. Leaving his jacket and neckcloth hanging over a chair, he went to their adjoining door and entered her room.

He waited a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the dimness within, and saw Lia asleep in the center of the bed, propped upon a pile of pillows. A movement from the darkened corner announced the presence of Ghita, who stood and walked over to him.

“She is very tired, Your Grace,” the maid said softly so as not to wake her mistress. Ghita motioned for Ren to follow her away from the bedside, where she could whisper a little louder. “She does not want you to know this, but my mistress threw her dinner into the chamber pot tonight.”

Ren burst into laughter, and caught himself, remembering Lia slept some fifteen feet away. Ghita’s eyes widened in reproach. Something, he thought, had to have been lost in the translation.

“My lady is sick and you laugh?” the upset maid asked.

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