The Sherbrooke Bride (19 page)

“You're right, to a point. It wasn't well done of them. I won't let it happen like that in future. Now we will get back to you and your behavior.”

She stared at him, mute.

“Were I you, I wouldn't say anything either. An apology would sound suspect since your behavior has been that of a bedlamite, of a thoughtless, feckless hoyden unworthy of the title of countess.” Douglas came to a grinding halt. The diatribe was merited, indeed it was, but it wouldn't gain him anything, not after the rounds of fire in the dining room. Aye, given the likely penchant of her current temper, she just might try to hurl the sofa at his head. He moderated his voice. “But, as I said, what's done is done.” He gave her a smarmy smile. “We must look to the future now.”

“What future?”

“That is what I wish to discuss.”

“I cannot see much hope for a future. Your mother is distressed that you are married to me. It is also obvious that she would dote on Melissande as a daughter-in-law. But since Melissande is out of the running, there is still this Juliette person, who, although second to Melissande in beauty, still rates quite highly in terms of comeliness. As for me, I appear to be off the other end of the scale. Your mother would never accept me. I don't fancy having to endure humiliation from you and then endure nastiness from her.”

And Douglas said without thought, “I imagine my mother looks at Melissande and sees no challenge to her authority. You, however, are made of sterner stuff and couldn't be counted on to spend all your time on your clothing and planning for parties and balls. No, you would likely want to oversee the management of household affairs yourself.” He stopped, both surprised and appalled at what had come out of his mouth.

She saw that he was chagrined and said, “Be careful, my lord, else I might take that as a compliment, regardless of your intentions.”

“I didn't mean it,” he said. “Melissande could most certainly be counted on to do her duty.”

Alexandra could have told him that Melissande would be shown a torn sheet and look bewildered.

Instead, she said, “Melissande also enjoys watercolors. She's really quite talented. Whilst I am fully able to oversee darning sheets, she leaves such mundane tasks to those who haven't her talent.”

Douglas didn't know what to say to that.

“However, I can sing. I am not Madame Belle Orzinski but I have been told that my voice is quite
nice. Also, flowers and plants of all kind respond to me. The Northcliffe gardens are in horrible condition.”

He said very quietly, his dark eyes glittering, “Are you trying to convince me that you would make me a good wife, Alexandra? You're trotting out your other sterling qualities?” He was pleased when she paled, obviously unaware of what she'd said until he'd pointed it out.

“No,” she said. “I don't want to be your wife any more. I want to go home. You cannot force me to remain here, my lord.”

“I can most certainly force you to do whatever I wish. It would behoove you not to forget that.”

Instead of hurling curses at him, Alexandra drew a deep calming breath. She was moderate in her behavior and thinking, she was in control, she was mild-tempered and now she would prove it, both to herself and to him. She would not attack him. “You said you wished to speak to me. About what?”

That was well done, he thought, pleased. “There is a rip beneath your right arm. Either from hurling the marquetry table at me or having Sinjun sit on you and jerk your arms over your head.”

“If I wheedle, will you buy me a new gown?”

“Probably.”

“I don't want anything from you! You would throw it up to me endlessly whenever I chanced to displease you, which would be every other minute.”

“A pity, because you've got me and all my bad habits. You've also got all my cursed relatives who have the sensitivities of goats, and a good two dozen meddlesome servants that come with me. No, don't hurl invectives at me. Your calm is refreshing, albeit unusual. Now, I told you that I wouldn't annul the
marriage. I told you I accepted you as my wife. I have not changed my mind. Now, have you anything to say?”

“You are perverse.”

“No more than you are.”

He had a point there. She sat down, stretched and raised her arms to lie on the sofa back. She crossed her legs and dangled one foot. She looked amused. “So, I understand you now. You are doing this to avoid a scandal.”

“No, but that's a good point. There would be a scandal, probably a vastly annoying one. But that isn't the reason. I think, once you have recovered your more temperate humors, that we can deal reasonably well together.”

He was giving her what she'd wanted for the past three years, what she'd wanted so desperately that she'd even tried to seduce him. She'd taken off all her clothes and offered herself to him. And he'd turned her down and insulted her. Now she was dressed in a gown with a rip under the right arm and he was offering not to annul her. She couldn't quite grasp it. On the other hand, what real choice did she have? Wasn't this precisely what she wanted more than anything else?

She looked up at him then and said, “All right.”

Douglas smiled. Something loosened inside him. He hadn't realized he was so very tense, hadn't realized he was so very apprehensive about what she would say.

“You look very different when you smile.”

“I suppose you haven't seen much humor from me.”

“No. I suppose you haven't observed much placid behavior from me either.”

“No.”

She blurted out, “What do you intend to do now?”

He cocked his head to one side. “What do you mean? Do you wish to go riding? Since Sinjun is here, you must ask her if you can ride Fanny. I will buy you another mount. Perhaps you can go with me. There is a stud over at Branderleigh Farm that sells mares with fine bloodlines.”

“No, about this Juliette.”

“Ah, a diamond of the second water.”

“Yes! Currently being imported for your perusal. I can't bear it, Douglas!” Alexandra jumped to her feet and began pacing. “And I can't bear more comparisons, truly. This Juliette—goodness, named after a Shakespeare play!—will arrive and all your relatives will look from her to Melissande and then to me and they'll show their displeasure at what has happened. They'll be verbal in their displeasure. I can't bear it, Douglas.”

“No, it wouldn't be pleasant for either of us. Let me think about it. Since I now know you won't be bagging it out of here, why then, I can set my brain to solving this particular problem. All right?”

She nodded numbly.

“You won't try to leave again, will you?”

“No. I doubt I could outsmart your sister.”

“Will you prove it by giving me your thirty pounds?”

“No, never.”

“So you don't trust me. All right, it seems that I'll just have to trust you first. Are you still hungry? You didn't eat much. Would you rather lie down and rest? I can ensure that you aren't disturbed.”

“Yes,” she said, desperation clear in her voice. “Yes, I should like that.”

He gave her a long look, but said nothing.

I
T WAS ELEVEN
o'clock at night. Alexandra was sitting up in her bed, bolstered up by three thick pillows, staring at the dying embers in the fireplace. The room was in shadow, the only light coming from a branch of five candles at her right elbow.

Would he come to her tonight?

Molière's play
The Misanthrope
lay facedown on her lap. She had just read the line “Women like me are not for such as you.” And now she couldn't get it out of her mind. It read itself over and over. Poor Douglas, not only had he lost the first diamond, but the second diamond as well. She wondered what gem she could aspire to be. Perhaps a topaz, she thought, aye, a topaz, only semiprecious, not worth much, but still pleasant to look at. A solid sort of stone, surely, steady and to be counted upon. She picked up the play and turned a page, trying to force herself to read.

Would he come to her tonight?

A shadow fell across the white page of the book and Alexandra started. Douglas stood next to her bed and he was wearing a dressing gown of thick brocade, a rich blue with gold thread interwoven. His feet were bare. She looked up the length of him,
met his dark night eyes, and said, “What are you doing here?”

He just smiled down at her and took the book from her hands. “Ah,
The Misanthrope.
And in English, unfortunately. You don't read French? It is much more amusing in French, you know.”

“Perhaps,” she said, “but I know the play well and like it more than well, even in English.”

He flipped over several pages, then read, “ ‘Nothing but trickery prospers nowadays . . .' What think you of that, Alexandra?”

Ah, yes, her trickery, Tony's trickery. Douglas would never let it go, never. Her voice was dull as she said, “I think it is unkind of you to select that particular passage when there are so many other lines from which to choose.”

“I was thinking of my sister, actually, and all her machinations. I was hearing her yowling at the top of her lungs about that huge hairy rat climbing up your skirt. I was seeing her laughing as she held you down on the floor. I missed you at the dinner table.”

“I can't imagine why.”

“It was rather boring, truth be told. Since you—the target—were no longer in their midst, all my relatives ate more than they should have and spoke of the weather. However, I did have to partner Aunt Mildred in whist. Do you play?”

“Yes.”

“Then you will partner me next time. You cannot continue to hide in here, you know. Do you play as well as your sister?”

“Yes.”

Douglas looked thoughtful. “I don't think now that it is that her play is so subtle. It is that she is so
beautiful that one forgets the cards one holds and the strategies one has concocted.”

“Your strategies will remain intact with me.”

“Possibly. I really must insist, Alexandra. As mistress of Northcliffe Hall, it is your responsibility to see to my family and to my guests.”

She looked up at him, her expression giving nothing away, and said, “I'm clever, handsome, gracefully polite; My waist is small, my teeth are strong and white.' ”

Douglas laughed. “Now that's a line from the play I remember well. But you needn't trot out those particular qualities, my dear, for they are there for all to see. Shall we put Molière back on his shelf? Good.” He then turned to look into the fireplace. “Didn't you expect to see me tonight?”

“I wasn't certain.”

“Did you want me to come to you?”

At that moment she looked about as happy as she would welcoming the plague into her house. “I don't know. I'm very concerned about all this.”

“About all what? What I'm going to teach you?”

“Yes.”

“How very odd. I didn't expect one morsel of concern from the woman who came into my bedchamber not long ago and stripped off her nightgown and came to stand between my legs. Indeed, I hurried in here because I thought you just might repeat your performance. The husband is supposed to be the one to come to his bride on their wedding night, not the other way around. And this is our wedding night. Would you have trotted into my bedchamber, ready to do your worst to me? Truly, Alexandra, I didn't believe you had a modest bone in your very lovely body. Concern? Are you afraid that I shall beat you?”

“No, I was afraid that you would look at me again and not want me.”

Douglas's mouth snapped shut. Dear God, he wished she had more guile. This honesty of hers was appalling, and he wished she would learn to keep it behind her teeth. “Well, I am your husband. This is the last time I will tell you that I have accepted this marriage. And now this marriage must be consummated if it is to be a real marriage.”

She felt a frisson of both anticipation and fear. He did not sound particularly pleased to be in her bedchamber. He sounded as if this would be a chore for him.

“I am never certain what you will do. You are unpredictable. But I don't think you really wish to be in here, with me.”

He waved his hand. “I am perfectly capable of enjoying myself with you. From this night on I won't be unpredictable when it comes to bedding you. You realize that I must be here, don't you? Do you understand about consummation, Alexandra? You do understand what we will do?”

He was still standing beside her, tall and broad, looking down at her from his commanding height. “Do you?”

“I know that you admire my bosom. You told me that. I assume that you weren't lying.”

“ ‘Bosom' is a woman's word. What you have, Alexandra, is breasts. Full white breasts, large enough to overflow a man's hands. Yes, I like your breasts. They are most pleasing. They will be plentiful enough, certainly, to suckle my son. And until my son arrives, why then, they will suckle me.”

“Suckle you? You are not a babe.”

His mouth thinned a bit. “I will have to show you. Now, do you understand what is going to happen? I ask, Alexandra, because you are a virgin, and I have no particular wish to shock you or disgust you.”

“Why would you do that? You make me angry, Douglas, but you've never disgusted me, save in your unregulated speech upon occasion.”

“You might find my body disgusting. I am dark and hairy and large. I have heard that young ladies of quality occasionally are repulsed by the male body.”

“Oh no.”

“Surely this is a strange conversation,” he said, frowning toward the fireplace. “Let us finish it. Consummation, Alexandra?”

“I know a little bit. I asked Melissande, but she—” She stopped when Douglas suddenly sucked in his breath. She felt a shaft of pain, deep and raw. He had thought of Melissande making love with Tony and it distressed him. But what could she expect?

“What did she tell you?”

He was trying to downplay his reaction, she would give him that. “She didn't tell me much of anything. She said it wasn't proper but then she got all flushed and stammered and I was left not knowing what to think.”

Douglas pulled a loose gold thread from his sleeve. “It is common knowledge that Tony is an excellent lover.”

“Common amongst whom?”

“At first amongst ladies, but then they talk to other lovers and husbands, and the gentlemen learn who amongst them enjoys success.”

“So the more excellent the lover the more women the lover enjoys? It doesn't matter if he is married or not? Or if she is married or not?”

Douglas frowned. It was the accepted way of things, but he couldn't quite bring himself to tell her so. He said only, “I suppose so.”

“What is an excellent lover? A man who is kind? A man who is very gentle? A man who kisses very well?”

“All those things and much more.”

“It would seem to me that those things and much more would require practice and a good deal of experience.”

“They do. Tony has years of both.”

“And you?”

“I, too.”

“And Ryder?”

Douglas laughed. “Ah, my younger brother was probably born an excellent lover. He has but to show himself and the ladies, as well as the females who aren't ladies, swoon and flirt and simper. However, he tends to forget himself in his own pleasure.”

“What do you mean?”

“Never mind. Later. Perhaps when you know a bit more about things than you do now.”

“Is it common knowledge you are an excellent lover?”

“I trust so. I have never been a selfish pig and I am careful to see to a woman's pleasure.”

“You don't make it sound very enjoyable for yourself if you are being so careful about everything.”

“Nature has dictated that sex is very enjoyable for a man, no matter the circumstance. It is to keep the race going, you understand. Pleasure is not necessary for a woman since she is only the recipient
of a man's seed, and thus doesn't have to play an active role. She was deprived by Nature. It is a pity, but a man, if he's an excellent lover, will overcome Nature's oversight. I do enjoy overcoming.”

“Even if you don't particularly care for the woman?”

“I don't generally have sex with women I don't care for. Except on rare occasion.”

Well, she had asked and he'd told her the truth, a bit baldly perhaps, but it was the truth nonetheless.

“Yes,” he continued, “for a woman, more care is required if she is to—” He broke off, then added, “I enjoy watching a woman find her release.” He stopped at the look of pain in her eyes, intense pain and hurt. What the devil had he said? Perhaps it was just a maiden's fear. She didn't understand, but she would before this night was over.

Then she closed her eyes. “Then I shall forever be compared to all the beautiful women you've known and watched and enjoyed. And because I am ignorant and not a diamond, I probably will never find out what this release is all about, and you will be displeased with me. And then I will always lose and you will always feel sorry that you are wedded to me.”

“But you just quoted to me that you are graceful with a narrow waist and white teeth. Ah, and handsome.” He paused a moment, then said very quietly, “As to release, I will give you such pleasure that you will shriek with the joy of it. As for the rest of what you said, it's drivel.”

“I don't know, Douglas. Perhaps when you begin this business, you will be sorry that I am the recipient of your excellent technique. You will feel as
though you are wasting your excellence on such as me.”

“I doubt that, for I have seen you and touched you and cared for you and your body pleases me, Alexandra. Very much. I am a man and not a boy. You may trust that I will take good care of you, that I will do what is just right at just the right moment to give you pleasure.”

“It sounds very cold-blooded to me.”

He only shrugged. It was, upon occasion, but he didn't intend to tell her that. “Do you know that this is all in all a very strange conversation to be having on one's wedding night? And that's what this is, Alexandra. Now, shall we?”

“No,” she said. “I don't think so. Douglas, wait. Did you really want to come to me tonight?”

“Damn you, Alexandra, it's enough that I am here! It goes with me accepting you as my wife. No, don't look at me as if I will kill you.” He grasped her arms and pulled her off the bed. “Sit down now,” he said, then proceeded to push her down upon the counterpane. Her feet didn't touch the floor. They were bare, narrow, nice toes. Her nightgown was virginal; she looked about sixteen. But she hadn't braided her hair and it was really quite lovely, that deep red color, the waves thick and full, falling down her back. She'd brushed it and that must mean that she'd expected him to come to her. It was something, at least. Douglas took a step back from her and began to unfasten the belt around his waist.

“Oh dear, what are you doing?”

“I'm going to show you what a man looks like,” he said and tossed the belt to the floor. Very slowly, he shrugged one shoulder and then the other out of the dressing gown. It fell to the floor and he kicked it
away from him. Then, still looking at her directly in her eyes, he straightened, his arms at his sides, and stood there naked.

“Oh goodness,” she said, her eyes immediately on his groin.

“I am not at all like you,” Douglas said. He was watching her closely and he saw her eyes widen and glaze a bit. “With you looking at me with such interest, I tend to become quite enthusiastic. My brain has nothing to do with it.”

“Oh goodness,” she said again.

Still he stood there, letting her look her fill at him. Finally, to his relief, she nodded, as if coming to a decision. He hadn't the foggiest notion of what his next step would have been had she continued to look at him as if he were going to kill her.

“Your nightgown is in the way. Let's get rid of it.”

He didn't wait, but pulled her to her feet to stand in front of him. He leaned down, grasped the hem of her nightgown and pulled it over her head. “Now,” he said, “we are in the same boat, so to speak.”