The Pretenders (21 page)

I smiled at him sleepily. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” His face was grave. “Did you sleep well?”

I yawned. “I slept like the dead.”

His lips smiled at me but his eyes remained grave. “Too much champagne,” he said.

I looked at him. His hair was disheveled from sleep, his chin and cheeks unshaven. He looked wonderful.

But something was wrong.

I reached over and ran my ringers through his tangled hair. I said quietly, “Did I ever tell you that I loved you?”

“No.” His voice was strange. ”I don’t believe you ever have.”

“Well, I do.”

He said a little desperately, “I would never want to do anything that would hurt you, Deb. You know that, don’t you?”

I deliberately misunderstood him. “I thought you told me it would only hurt the first time.”

He looked a little disconcerted.

“Let’s try it and see if you’re right.”

He frowned. “Aren’t you too sore?”

I said softly, “Kiss me, Reeve.”

He shifted his weight until he was right next to me, then he lowered his mouth to cover mine. After a few minutes, his leg slid over mine as well.

All of the sensations I had experienced last night came back as we kissed and touched each other. Over and over he told me how beautiful I was, and deep within me the thrilling sensations of want and need climbed higher and higher. I closed my legs around his waist and this time, when he surged within me, there was no sharp pain to dissipate those wonderful feelings. This time there were only spasms of intense sensation, which intensified as he thrust back and forth within me, driving me to higher and higher peaks of excitement, until finally I exploded around him in an incredible climax of pleasure that rocked me to the very soul of my being.

Afterward we lay together, clutching each other tightly, the sweat from both our bodies mingling intimately.

At last I croaked, in echo of his words yesterday, “I feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

His grip on me tightened. “I love you so much, Deb. God help us both, but I love you.”

The desperate note was back in his voice again, and I buried my lips in his hair and said a prayer,

REEVE AND I STAYED THREE DAYS IN BRIGHTON,
and I blush to admit that we spent very little time outside our hotel room. We went to the dining room to eat and every evening after dinner we went for a walk along the Marine Parade. We also went shopping one afternoon, and Reeve insisted on buying me a pair of sapphire earrings, which he said exactly matched my eyes.

The rest of the time we spent in bed.

“It’s a very good thing you had the idea to come to Brighton,” I said to Reeve the morning that we were getting ready to return to Wakefield Manor. ”We would have scandalized the entire Wakefield household by our behavior these last few days.”

Reeve was lounging in a low chair in my dressing room, while I stood in front of the pier glass tying the pink ribbons of a straw bonnet under my chin. He lifted an eyebrow at me in the mirror. “Why do you think I insisted that we come to Brighton? I wanted to get you to myself.”

I said regretfully, “Well, we are going to have to act like normal people once we return to Wakefield, Reeve. And that means getting up in the morning—not remaining in bed until two in the afternoon!”

He sighed gustily.

I turned away from the mirror and scanned the room to make sure I had not forgotten anything.

“Let’s hope your dear Aunt Sophia is gone, at least,” I said. ”I wouldn’t be at all shocked to have her ask me about my wedding night—in detail.”

He chuckled wickedly. “You didn’t have a wedding night, remember? You had a wedding afternoon. On your wedding night you passed out on me from too much champagne.”

“Very amusing,” I said.

“Ready?” he said, and, unfolding his length from the chair, he got to his feet.

I was ready, but I felt curiously reluctant to leave Brighton; and it was not just because I enjoyed the privacy that the hotel had afforded to newlyweds.

I felt safe here in Brighton.

No, it was more than that, I realized. I felt that Reeve was safe here in Brighton.

I had a horribly uneasy feeling that he might not be safe at Wakefield. Not from Robert. And perhaps not from himself.

“Ready,” I said with a cheerful smile, and let him take my arm to escort me out of the room.

We were greeted like royalty upon our return to Wakefield. Lord Bradford and Mama, who had obviously been waiting for us, came into the hall the moment we stepped through the front door of the house.

“Deborah!” Mama cried, and flew to give me a hug.

I laughed as I felt the surprising strength of her slender arms as they clutched me close. “I’ve only been gone a few days, Mama,” I said.

She stepped back and looked up into my face.

I knew I looked radiant. Even I had been able to see the glow that emanated from me when I regarded myself in the mirror.

The small frown that had been puckering my mother’s brow smoothed out, and her expression changed into one of wonder.

Lord Bradford said pleasantly, “Did you enjoy Brighton, Deborah? You certainly had wonderful weather.”

My eyes flew to Reeve, who was standing behind Lord Bradford. He winked at me.

I wondered what stuffy Lord Bradford would say if I told him that I had scarcely seen Brighton, that I had been otherwise occupied. I didn’t say that, however. Instead I returned my gaze to Reeve’s cousin’s square, powerful face, and replied demurely, “It was very nice, my lord.”

He said, “Surely it is time for you to call me Bernard, my dear. We are family now, after all.”

I didn’t want to call him Bernard.

“Thank you,” I said.

He raised an admonishing eyebrow at me as if I were a child.

“Bernard,” I said a little sulkily.

He nodded in grave approbation. Then he said, “I am certain that you must be anxious to freshen up after your journey.” His eyes moved to Reeve. “I have put both you and Deborah in your room, Reeve.”

Reeve nodded and took me by the arm. “Come along, Deb.”

I went with him down the hall and up the center oak staircase. Reeve’s room was one of the first on the passageway in the left wing of the house and when he opened the door to let me in the first thing I saw was a magnificent green-velvet four-poster, whose hangings had been tied to the posts to allow for some movement of the summer air. The room’s green-damask walls were hung with scenes of the Sussex countryside, mere was a silk-covered chaise lounge on the Persian carpet, a writing desk, a dressing table, two striped-silk chairs facing each other in a conversational grouping and two large, carved, black elephants, one on either side of the fireplace.

Reeve saw me staring at the elephants. “Some cousin of Bernard’s wife sent them back from India,” he explained.

I nodded and went to the satinwood dressing table to remove my hat and smooth my hair. Reeve went to look out the window, his hands clasped behind his back.

I stared unseeingly at my reflection in the dressing table mirror, deep in thought. “Reeve?” I said after a minute, “Have you ever suspected that your cousin might be interested in my mother?”

“Bernard?” Reeve said, swinging around to face me.

I looked at him. “Yes.”

“I’ve never thought about it.” He frowned, obviously thinking about it now. ”I suppose it’s possible, Deb,” he said at last, slowly. ”Your mother is still a very lovely woman.”

I scowled. “Exactly how old is Bernard, anyway?”

Reeve said. “He’s about fifty, I think.”

“Fifty!” I replied scornfully. ”That’s ancient.”

Reeve looked amused. “It’s not that ancient, Deb, believe me. I can assure you that most fifty-year-old men are quite… er… capable.”

I didn’t want to think of Lord Bradford in such a way—particularly with my mother. It was disgusting.

I said quickly, “You won’t mind if Mama lives with us at Ambersley, will you Reeve?”

“Of course I won’t mind,” he replied in surprise. ”I have always assumed that she would do so.”

I went to him, put my arms around his waist and rested my cheek on his shoulder. His arms came up to hold me close.

I kissed his chin because his neck was enclosed in a starched white neckcloth and I couldn’t get to it. Even though he had shaved that morning, his beard pricked my lips.

He rested his mouth on the top of my head.

The summer sun streaming in the window bathed us both in warmth and light. I felt a familiar tightening in the lower part of my body, and I made myself step away from him.

“They will be expecting us back downstairs for tea.” I said.

The hawk-like look on Reeve’s face told me that he was feeling the same way I was.

“Do we have to go?” he said.

I thought of my mother.

“Yes, we do.”

“We should have stayed by ourselves in Brighton,” he growled.

I glanced around the beautiful family bedchamber in which we stood, and knew that I, too, wished we had remained in the impersonal hotel apartment in which we had spent the first few days of our marriage.

“Yes,” I said a little shakily, “I wish we could have.”

It was a very strange feeling to meet once again all of the people with whom I had lived for the last few weeks. Reeve and I had been gone for only three days, but I was so changed in my own person, as well as my estate in life, that I needed to find new ways to relate to everyone else.

Lady Sophia, mercifully, had returned home to Bath, but her departure meant that I was put in her place at the head of the table, opposite to Lord Bradford. I tried very hard not to show how self-conscious I felt about this new honor.

Sally and Mary Ann regarded me surreptitiously but steadily during the whole of the meal.

Edmund Norton talked to Harry and Reeve about a boat he had been thinking of buying.

Mrs. Norton conversed calmly with Bernard and Mama, and Mr. Norton, who was seated on my right hand, talked to me.

“Did you have an opportunity to visit the Prince Regent’s pavilion while you were in Brighton, Lady Cambridge?” Mr. Norton asked me kindly.

I wondered how long it would take me to grow accustomed to being addressed as
Lady Cambridge
.

“Not the inside,” I replied. ”But it is certainly an impressive piece of architecture from the outside.”

He made some kind of response, and we continued to converse as the salmon was succeeded by the venison which was succeeded by a roast of pork.

After a dessert of fruit and almonds had been served, the ladies retired to the drawing room for tea.

“Oh Deborah,” Sally rhapsodized, “you look utterly beautiful. Marriage must be a very wonderful thing.”

Mary Ann didn’t say anything, but her eyes watched me closely.

I smiled at Reeve’s young cousin. “It is perfectly splendid, Sally, as long as you marry the right man.”

Sally heaved a loud sigh. “You got Reeve, you lucky thing. Where are the rest of us going to find a man to equal him?”

“Now girls,” Mrs. Norton admonished sharply, “it is not at all proper of you to be asking Deborah about her marriage experiences.”

Mary Ann’s brown eyes dropped. “Yes, Mama,” she said.

Sally wrinkled her nose at me.

My mother smoothed the already-smooth silk of her white evening dress.

I drank some of my tea, and said calmly, “How are the plans for the fair coming along?”

We talked of the fair until the men returned to the room. Then Mama and Bernard and Mr. and Mrs. Norton went to the whist table for a game and the rest of us went for a walk in the garden.

Sally and Edmund walked on ahead, absorbed in a conversation of their own. Sally’s light voice and laughter floated back to us on the evening air. She was teasing Edmund about his passion for boats.

Reeve put his hand warningly over mine, which was resting on his arm, and then he stopped walking to turn us to face Harry and Mary Ann. They halted also, and the four of us regarded each other across a three-foot expanse of graveled pathway.

Reeve said, “I have been wondering, Harry, if you have heard anything from Robert.”

Harry gave Reeve a quick, sharp look. After a moment, he said tersely, “Actually, we don’t know where he is.”

My heart thumped once, hard.

Reeve’s hand tightened on mine. “I thought he was in Hampshire.”

Harry kicked at the gravel with his toe, refusing to meet Reeve’s eyes. “He left there a few days ago, and no one has heard from him since.”

The fading evening light showed us that Harry was continuing to stare at the ground in front of him. He kicked the gravel once again.

Reeve said in a very hard voice, “Deb told me what Robert tried to do to her, Harry, so there’s no need to pull any punches here.”

Harry’s eyes flew to meet mine. I nodded.

Mary Ann asked in a hushed voice, “What did Robert try to do to you, Deborah?”

No one answered.

Then Harry said wearily, his eyes still locked on mine, “He tried to rape her, Mary Ann. There never was any drunken brawl in Fair Haven. Robert broke into Deborah’s room and attacked her. Mrs. Woodly heard Deborah call for help and went in and hit Robert over the head with a vase. That’s why my father sent him packing into Hampshire and refused to allow him to return for the wedding.”

Mary Ann looked utterly horrified. “My God, Deborah. What a frightful experience!”

I swallowed. “Yes, it was.”

Reeve’s hand on mine was rigid.

I said to Harry in the most reasonable voice I could command, “Surely Robert will not attempt anything so outrageous again. Surely he must realize that he would be the first person to be suspected should something happen to Reeve or to me.”

What I saw in Harry’s face frightened me. He said in a hard voice, “Robert is out of control, Deborah. That became clear to me when he went so far as to try to rape you.” He rubbed his hand across his eyes, as if he could chase away the sight that was lodged there behind them. He went on, “It’s as if he’s being eaten up inside by this violent hatred he has for Reeve. It’s true that there was always a trace of brutality in Robert, but now…” He moved his eyes from me to Reeve and repeated somberly, “Now he’s gone totally out of control.”