Slightly Married (29 page)

H
E HAD NEVER MADE LOVE BEFORE.
N
OT
LOVE.
H
E
had had sex numerous times and with numerous women. He had even felt some affection for some of them. But he had never before made love.

He was terrified.

He had never given himself. Not
himself
. Not since childhood, anyway. Or perhaps not since that time when at the age of eighteen he had gone to Wulf, all eagerness and brotherly love, to outline his ideas for Lindsey Hall and all the other ducal estates and to offer to implement them in person. Since then he had performed his duty—always, scrupulously, honorably, and impersonally. In all the twelve years since he had become an officer, he had never given himself.

He was terrified.

What if it embarrassed her, even distressed her to be offered the free gift of himself and his love? It certainly had been no part of their original bargain. But neither had anything else that had happened since their wedding. This afternoon she had looked at him with tears in her eyes before hurrying away from him. He could remember exactly what words he had spoken to her just before she left.

I will not be here to care either way.

The words had upset her.

He lay down beside her on the blanket, wrapped his arms about her, and drew her against him. Her body was cool from the water, as was his own. Her mouth, when he found it and opened it with his own and penetrated it with his tongue, was hot. She splayed one hand against his chest, twined the other arm about his waist, and pressed herself against him. Heat flared between them almost instantly. She was, he realized, as hungry for him as he was for her, and every bit as ready. There was no need for foreplay.

“Come on top of me,” he said against her mouth. “The ground is hard and I am heavy.”

“No.” She rolled onto her back, drawing him with her. “I want it this way. Please?”

Her legs parted as he came over her and twined tightly about his.

“Eve.” He whispered against her lips, holding the bulk of his weight on his forearms, his hands cradling her face. “You are ready?”

“Yes. Come to me,” she whispered back. “Come to me, Aidan. Please.”

He thrust gratefully into her. She was hot and wet. Her inner muscles clenched about him, almost driving him over the brink of control.

“Easy,” he murmured to her. “Let us hold off on the physical for a while. Let us love. Relax if you can.”

Although his eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness, they were lying in the shade of the trees, and her face was further shadowed by his own. He could not see her, but he could feel her understanding and responding. Her inner muscles relaxed, and she untwined her legs from about his and set her feet flat on the ground on either side of him.

He moved in her.

He made love to her. Consciously, with every stroke giving her tenderness, giving her himself. Aware with every beat of the rhythm of sex that a deep, powerful, all-encompassing, unifying emotion could accompany and even surpass the familiar physical need and the knowledge that at any moment, whenever he wished, he could bring that to full pleasure and satiety.

He made love to her. Slowly, thoroughly, aware of
her,
of the silky feel of her skin, of the smell of her wet hair and of her very essence, of the inside of her body where she had invited and welcomed him, of her breathing and the low sounds she made occasionally deep in her throat. He could not see her, but she was Eve, she was his heart and soul, she was his love.

He was very aware of the moment when he took the final, ultimate risk, laying all before her—his honor, his emotions, his very self.

“Eve,” he murmured, his mouth against hers again, “my love. My dearest love. I love you. For all time. For all eternity. It is my love I give you tonight.”

“Mmm,” she said, deep in her throat again.

But he lost his nerve. He feared that she would speak. He feared the words. He kissed her and deepened the kiss, pressing his tongue deep inside. And at the same moment he quickened and deepened and hardened his rhythm. He lifted his mouth away only when all her muscles clenched and he sensed her moving into climax. He tipped back his head, eyes closed, kept his weight on his arms, and released his seed in her. Even then he did not lose himself. Even then he was aware of her, moaning softly, shuddering with the spasms of her completion, gradually relaxing. Soft, warm, sweat-slick.

He slid free of her, lifted his weight off her, and moved to her side with one arm still about her, grasping the second blanket as he did so, and somehow spreading it one-handed over them both. She sighed and turned onto her side facing away from him, nestling her head against his arm and fitting her back and her bottom and her legs against him.

He gave them both a few minutes to recover. He thought that she might have drifted off to sleep for a few minutes. And then she whispered to him.

“Look at the stars,” she said. “They are brighter than ever.”

He looked and stroked his fingers through her drying hair.

“Eve,” he said, “I am sorry about Denson. Deeply sorry. But—”

“You need not be,” she said. “I did love him, Aidan. Or, rather, I was
in
love with him. But he is not the man I thought he was. Maybe I would never have discovered his essential weakness if we had married, but I believe I would have. He is not a man I could love for a lifetime.”

He had not been allowed to deliver his carefully planned speech. He would have to go with the flow of conversation instead, then.

“What sort of man
could
you love for a lifetime?” he asked her.

She was silent for a while. He guessed that she was considering her answer.

“A kind man,” she said. “When we are young and foolish, we do not realize how essential a component of love kindness is. It is perhaps the most important quality. And an honorable man. Always doing the right thing no matter what.”

His heart sank—on both counts.

“And a strong man,” she said. “Strong enough to be vulnerable, to take risks, to be honest even when honesty might expose him to ridicule or rejection. And someone who would put himself at the center of my world even before knowing that I would be willing to do the same for him. A man foolish and brave enough to tell me that he loves me even when I have hidden all signs that I love him in return.”

“Eve—” he said.

“He would have to be tall and broad and dark and hook-nosed,” she said. “And frowning much of the time, pretending he is tough and impervious to all the finer emotions. And then smiling occasionally to light up my heart and my life.”

Good God!

“He would have to be you,” she said. “No one else would do. Which is just as well, considering the fact that I am married to you. You need never fear that I will be untrue to you, Aidan, even if you leave me tomorrow and never return.”

He set his face against her shoulder, gulped, and swallowed.

“You meant what you said, did you not?” she asked. “It was not just the passion speaking. You meant it?”

“I meant it,” he said against her ear.

“You are braver than I, then,” she said, “my mighty, precious warrior. I dared not open myself to your scorn or your pity. But I love you with all my heart. I love you so much it hurts. Aidan, if it were not for the children I would follow the drum with you even if it were for all the rest of my life. But I cannot. I have to put them first. I will write to you every day, though. I will make a home for you to come back to every time you have leave. I—”

“Hush, love,” he said. “I am going to sell out. It was part of the speech I started to deliver before you interrupted. I am going to sell out and live here with you.”

“Oh, Aidan.” She turned over all in a rush to face him, and one of her hands came up to cup his cheek. “I cannot ask that of you. You are going to be a general. There will be honors, titles—”

“You cannot bear to be married to a humble ex-colonel, then?” he asked her. “With only one title, which he has done nothing to earn?”

“Oh, Aidan.” She brushed her lips against his.

“You need me here,” he said. “You will need someone to manage your farms and estate after your steward has gone off to his new place on that madcap scheme the two of you have concocted. The children need me. They desperately need a father as well as a mother. Aunt Mari needs to have her hopes fulfilled, and Agnes needs someone to fight on a regular, daily basis. And Eve—ah, Eve, my love, I need you. All of you. But
you
most of all, my dearest love.
You
.” He kissed her hard.

“You are going to sell out?” she asked in wonder. “Now?”

“Not at this precise moment,” he said. “Since Agnes sent us out here with an extra blanket, it seems to me only polite to make full use of it. I am going to make love to you all night long under the stars. But tomorrow, Eve. I'll go to London and take care of it. At the same time I'll have Wulf recommend a lawyer to deal with that land business. And then I am going to come home to stay.”

“Home,” she repeated softly.

“If you will have me,” he said.

“If—”

She laughed then, and for no apparent reason he joined her. They laughed and hugged and kissed and murmured nonsense to each other.

“The Duke of Bewcastle is going to be furious,” she said at last.

“I am not so sure of that,” he said. “Not so sure at all. We Bedwyns have always taken marriage very seriously indeed, Eve. Anyone who marries any of us had better be prepared to be loved and cherished for a lifetime.”

“I think I can prepare myself for that,” she said.

They chuckled again before turning to the more serious business of living their night of love beneath the stars.

C
HAPTER XXIII

H
E WAS GONE FOR A WEEK.
A
WHOLE
interminable week. He left early on the morning following the garden party. Indeed, after they returned from their night at the river, he merely changed his clothes, saddled his own horse while his sleepy batman did the same for himself, kissed Eve, and rode on his way.

She had told no one that he planned to return even though Aunt Mari was mournful and the children often quiet and lethargic. She dared not tell. Confident as she was in his love and his determination to come back to her, she nevertheless could not shake the anxiety that something would happen to prevent his return. Better that no one knew except her.

She resumed all her activities with renewed energy. She spent more time with her aunt and with the children than she ever had. She threw herself into plans for a grand wedding for Thelma—the first banns were read two days after Aidan left for London. Serena, Aunt Mari, Miss Drabble, and Aunt Jemima—Eve had paid her a personal visit—formed a planning committee with her. Ned Bateman found the first two recruits for his new farm project, both of them men newly returned from the fighting in Europe, one of them with an eye and a hand missing, the other with a leg that had been amputated below the knee, both of them quite destitute.

With every breath she drew Eve lived and breathed Aidan. But she did it in secrecy, not daring to share her happiness lest somehow she kill it.

She had taken the children riding. Davy was determined to master the skill, and of course it was desirable, even necessary that he do so. Sam had given him a few lessons in the paddock, cheered on by Charlie, who had assumed the personal care of Davy's pony, fussing over it, Sam had reported, just as if it were the most prized racing horse in the country.

Eve had taken the children riding, Davy without a leading-rein for the first time, Becky up before Eve's saddle, though the day was not far distant when she too must have a pony and learn to ride.

It was the middle of the afternoon when they rode back into the stableyard and Sam lifted Becky down while Davy dismounted on his own and Charlie checked the pony anxiously for damage. Eve slid down from the saddle and looked up at the sky after scratching the head of Muffin, who had come bobbing to meet her. There were clouds, suggesting that the long hot spell might finally be coming to an end. But they were high and unthreatening for the moment. The somewhat cooler day was actually quite welcome.

“Horses approaching, my lady,” Sam said suddenly, cocking his head in a listening attitude.

Aidan!
Eve tried not to expect that it really was he, but she hurried to the gateway with the children and saw the two riders approaching with another coming a short distance behind them.

“Uncle Aidan!” The words burst from Davy's lips at the same moment as he started running.

One of the horsemen took a shortcut across the lawn, and when he was close, he dismounted, laughing, and held out his arms to sweep Davy up in the air.

“Uncle Aidan!” Davy cried again. “You came back. You came back.”

Eve clutched Becky's hand and hurried toward them, her heart welling with such happiness that it felt rather as if it would burst.

“I did, lad,” Aidan said, hugging Davy tightly before setting him on his feet. “How could I keep away? I am home to stay.”

“Papa,” Becky whispered. And then she broke away from Eve's grasp and went skipping joyfully toward Aidan, holding out her arms as she went. He picked her up and held her tightly to him, his eyes clenching shut for a moment. “Papa, I have a loose tooth. Look.”

Papa.

He looked, giving the child his whole frowning attention while she wiggled the tooth with one finger.

“Indeed you do,” he said. “Is my little girl losing her baby teeth already? You are going to be all grown up before we know it. Do you have a kiss for me?”

She puckered her little mouth and offered it to him. He kissed her and then glanced up and held out one arm to Eve. The look on his face made her heart turn over.

“Eve,” he said as his arm came about her and she felt the warm solidity of his chest with her hand and then her bosom. “Eve, my dearest love, I am home.”

“Yes,” she said, and she lifted her face, smiling, while Muffin woofed at her side. Aidan kissed her full on the lips for all to see.

It was only at that moment that she remembered what she had seen from the gateway of the stableyard—Aidan with his batman behind him.
And another rider.
She took a step back, biting her lip and feeling herself flush while Aidan laughed and set Becky down.

“I have my brother with me,” he said. “The one you have not met before. Ralf, come and meet Eve.” He set an arm about her waist and drew her to his side. “Rannulf is his official name, but he is known as Ralf.”

Lord Rannulf Bedwyn had dismounted and had come walking across the lawn. He was almost as tall as Aidan and just as large. He had the family nose. But he was fair like Freyja. When he removed his hat, Eve could see that as with Freyja, his hair was wavy—he wore it unfashionably long. She found herself thinking of Norse warriors.

“Eve,” he said, holding out a hand for hers. “I am delighted to make your acquaintance.”

He had a powerful grip.

“And I yours,” she said.

“These are our children,” Aidan said. “Becky and Davy, another uncle for you. Uncle Ralf. And I see Aunt Mari coming down the steps to the terrace. She must have seen me come. Excuse me a moment.”

He released his hold on Eve and went striding off in the direction of the terrace. Soon he had Aunt Mari enfolded in his arms while her cane clattered to the cobbles.

“I thought,” Lord Rannulf said, “that he would wear out the floors of Bedwyn House during the past week from pacing them so impatiently. Everything proceeded altogether too slowly for Aidan.”

“And for me too,” Eve admitted, smiling at him. “I am glad you came with him. I'll have a room made ready for you.”

“Oh, only for one night,” he said as they watched the children follow Aidan onto the terrace. “I am on my way north but could not resist making a stop here to see my new sister-in-law. I have been summoned by our maternal grandmother. She has found just the right bride for me—again. This is the fourth or fifth time, I believe. I will not succumb this time any more than I did the other four or five, since my freedom and perhaps my very sanity are at stake, but I cannot simply ignore the summons. She has made me her heir, you see, and annoying as she can be, I . . . well, I am fond of her. So I will go, Eve, and put my freedom in dire peril once more.”

He grinned at her, revealing strong white teeth and blue eyes that danced with merriment and roguery.

“Perhaps,” Eve said, “she has chosen wisely for you this time.”

“There is, of course, always that possibility,” he agreed. “But I have a curious aversion to having my future wife chosen for me—or even to choosing her myself within the next five or six years.”

“You must be ready for refreshments,” Eve said, leading the way to the house, “and for a rest.”

“I will not deny it,” her brother-in-law said, falling into step beside her. “If there is something more uncomfortable than riding with a cavalry officer who has lived in the saddle for the past twelve years, it would have to be riding with a man who is on his way to a reunion with his beloved. I sincerely hope no one asks it of me ever again.”

Eve laughed.

And then Aidan turned from his conversation with Aunt Mari to watch her come, his eyes alight again with admiration and love. He held out his hand to her when she was close, and she set her own in it and felt his fingers close strongly about it.

“Aunt Mari,” he said, “meet my brother, Lord Rannulf Bedwyn. Mrs. Pritchard, Ralf. You may think she is singing when she first speaks. She is Welsh, you know.”

“And proud of it too,” Aunt Mari said. “You may give me one of those strong arms, young man, and help me inside since Agnes has gone off with my cane. Come along, children.”

A few moments later Eve and Aidan were alone on the terrace. He grinned at her.

“I asked her to do that,” he said. “It has occurred to me that I never did carry you over any threshold after we were married. What better threshold than our own, and what better time than now, the beginning of our happily ever after?”

“None,” she said. “But is there such a thing, Aidan? Happily ever after, I mean?”

“No,” he said, his smile softening to tenderness. “There is something infinitely better than happily ever after. There is happiness. Happiness is a living, dynamic thing, Eve, and has to be worked on every moment for the rest of our lives. It is a far more exciting prospect than that silly static idea of a happily ever after. Would you not agree?”

“I would,” she said, and then she half shrieked, half laughed, and wrapped her arms tightly about his neck as he scooped her up and twirled her once about before carrying her up the steps and into their house.

Into their home.

Into another dream. No, better than a dream. Into the dynamic, exciting, happy reality they would work on together every day for as long as they both lived.