A Practical Arrangement (16 page)

“
Pardon me?” The woman showed her surprise.

“
It is my wife who deserves your sympathy, for I determined to gain her hand by any means necessary. So you see, it is I who left her no choice by design.”

Between his brazen confession, his deep voice plucking her every nerve as a harpist might ply the string and that abominable hand upon her thigh, Evangeline's world tipped and warbled in what she would dare name delicious distress.

Delicious distress? What nonsense! Get hold of yourself, Evangeline!

Mrs. Preston stood open-mouthed a moment before her eyes narrowed slightly and the fake smile refitted itself unnaturally across her mouth. “In that case, I offer congratulations.” Augusta's blue eyes gouged into Evangeline as she rounded the other side of the table in a show of friendly affection. “My dearest
Mrs. Masterson
,” she fawned, clasping Evangeline's hands and leaning down. “I commend your scheme,” she whispered. “Playing hard to get has earned you a husband, but he shall tire of you quickly.”

Evangeline drew in a sharp breath. The reply she bit back scorched her tongue, quite an unpleasant sensation, yet necessary. She'd not give license to uncharitable speech.

Augusta's lips curled in triumph.

Oh! She knew exactly what effect her words produced, Evangeline fumed. But to be honest, the only reason they riled her so was her own fear of their truth.

“
Again, I wish you all the happiness you
deserve
,” Augusta stated, tone dripping sweet.

Liar
, Evangeline accused silently.

“
Mr. Masterson, if ever there is a way I can offer comfort or service do not hesitate to call upon me.”

Being a respectable lady was a heavy burden indeed in this moment. Never had she battled jealousy or ill-will, both extremely unpleasant emotions. Silent fears multiplied as Evangeline considered the awful truth her feelings revealed. She wanted her husband's heart.

“
Your offer is kind, but
unnecessary
, Mrs. Preston.” Thomas' clipped reply checked the woman's boldness.

“
Why, Mrs. Preston! What comforts could my nephew possibly lack now that he has such a lovely bride?”

In that moment Aunt Dorcas endeared herself completely to Evangeline; a tidal wave of gratitude and respect for the dear, dear woman swelled within her. She cast a look of unabashed adoration toward her new aunt.

“
Of course,” Mrs. Preston agreed with what appeared to be difficulty.

“
I hate to interrupt, but it is time for our goodbyes. The bride and groom need to depart to reach Cherry Hill at a reasonable hour.”

Aunt Dorcas fussed and clucked over Evangeline lovingly, stirring her to clasp the woman's hands tightly. “Thank you, Aunt Dorcas,” Evangeline declared with a lump in her throat.

“
Uncle Winston and I shall visit you both soon.”

The overwhelming reality brought tears to her eyes as her mother and father hugged her, their well-wishes reaching deep into her heart. Her tears brimmed as Melody hugged her. Smiling broadly, Melody held her hands an extra moment, communicating all the words they'd not the time, nor the privacy, to share.

“
Be happy, sister,” Melody exhorted with a final squeeze of hand.

Thomas shook hands one final time, and the party gathered to see them off. As the carriage pulled away, Evangeline waved her final farewell and settled in her seat. She was a married woman, alone with her husband, on her way to a new home to embark on a new life.

Apprehension pounced, embedding its cruel claws.

* * *

Thomas noted immediately the change in his bride, and a smug grin curled his lips. The things he would do to her – with her – this night. What he'd give to be privy to her thoughts. He'd learned to discern her moods over the last months, but much more yet needed accomplished. Knowing her inside and out, forward and backward – this was his aim. Currently, her awkward rigidness compelled him to comfort her.

“
Mrs. Masterson,” he smiled, “what troubles you?” Thomas laced his arm behind her and pulled her close. No open resistance met his gesture; neither did she relax against him. Rather, she tensed and her brown eyes grew wide. The shy display fueled his desire, and he held her closer. “Evangeline...”

Awaiting her compliance, he regarded her seriously.

“
I...I am nervous to meet the staff at Cherry Hill and to make a good first impression. Your home is larger than Grey Manor, and I'm feeling a bit out of my element.” She relaxed against him then, as if the admission lifted a heavy weight from her.

Yes. Further study was needed, for her answer surprised him. “Sweetheart, the staff will be enamored at once with you. Is that all that is on your mind?”

So small and delicate she was, her brown hair peeking out from under the fur-lined hood, hands tucked inside the matching muff. He wanted to earn her complete trust – to be worthy of it. For once in his life he did not desire freedom from responsibility, but craved it. Why this woman? His heart swelled with tenderness.

Because she is genuine.

She was a woman who would share his heart, his life – the only woman not throwing herself in his path in hopes of trapping him, of using him. No. He had trapped her. The question was whether he could love her without hurting her. Selfishness had ruled him for so long. Learning he had to take a wife had angered him, but Thomas now acknowledged that his father had acted in his best interest. He struggled to accept the harsh reality that had his hand not been forced, he'd likely have dismissed the treasure now in his possession. Another failing. Closing his eyes, he focused on his new found purposes. To be a man of worth, to succeed as his own father had done. To love this woman. The selfish nature remained intact, Thomas mused with irony, for in loving her, he gained.

In time, the chill pervaded every nook and cranny in the carriage. He wrapped her small frame in his own more closely, blanketing her with his heat.

“
Mr. Masterson!” Panic tainted her voice and she backed away instinctively.

His hold prevented much separation. “Shh,” he crooned.

“
Please, let go of me...”

But he continued to hold her close, soothing sounds and gentling touches given freely to comfort even as they underscored his display of authority. “No, Evangeline,” he denied her request. “I am not hurting you, sweetheart. Be still and relax.”

“
I...I cannot,” she pleaded even though she obeyed, stilling at once, Thomas noted.

“
Yes you can, Evangeline. That's better.”

Her shaky breath filled the otherwise quiet carriage compartment. Conquering her fears was his first concern. As long as she clung to fear she'd not surrender to pleasure, and as much as he wanted to indulge her every whim, he could never allow her fear to dictate his actions.
He
would be master over her mind and body – not fear.

Familiar landmarks announced their proximity to Cherry Hill, and Thomas pointed out the moment the carriage crossed into his domain. Huddled together, they peeked at the sights. Tall, wide trees lined the lane. Bare branches reached out from the small wood's edge, stretching toward the sky. The open ground sloped down on the right, where an acre-sized pond sat encased beneath an icy surface. Ahead, the land rose in gentle incline, cresting to obscure what lay beyond. The lane curved to the left, promising to expose, and Evangeline craned her neck in curious discovery.

Thomas laughed. “The fields lay behind those hills; we'll not see them today. Cherry Hill boasts more than four thousand acres. You shall be exploring for quite some time, Mrs. Masterson.”

Evangeline scooted near the window to take in her surroundings, and Thomas watched her reactions with interest. Each small discovery produced an appreciative sigh or bit of praise from his bride, and he silently thanked whatever unseen power conspired to bestow him such a gift. The women he'd cavorted with over the years cared only for his money and his cock – maybe in that order. Marriage to one of them would have proved loveless. This woman cared little for his money, and less for his manhood. A sinful grin lifted the corners of his mouth. She'd come to appreciate
that
in time.

“
Look ahead.” Thomas lifted his arm and pointed out the right carriage window.

Her breath caught as Cherry Hill came into view. “Your home is enchanting!”

Clasping her small hand in his larger one he gently corrected, “Our home.”

She made no acknowledgment; instead she returned her attention to the sandy-hued stone home. Black window boxes brimmed with evergreen boughs, the effect welcoming, just as she'd envisioned.

“
It is so large.”

“
That it is, Mrs. Masterson. You'll do fine.”

“
Do you truly believe that or are you attempting to placate me?”

Her question hinted at hidden insecurities, and Thomas considered whether Evangeline hid behind her stiff, severe nature to mask these feelings. No doubt her practicality would remain, but he vowed to build her up, to eradicate her self-doubt. “Both,” he admitted with a grin.

Pulling up in front of the house, the driver dismounted and opened the door. Thomas alighted and grasped Evangeline's waist, lifting her down in a graceful motion. A gray-haired fellow, tall and lean but for his small, protruding paunch, opened the front doors at precisely the correct moment revealing the staff lined up in the front hall.

“
Welcome home, Mr. and Mrs. Masterson,” greeted Mr. Eldrich Goddard. He stepped forward and bowed slightly.

Mr. Goddard was Cherry Hill's solicitor, Evangeline remembered from her conversation with Aunt Dorcas. Funny, he looked exactly as she'd described with his long nose and bushy eyebrows.

“
Thank you, Mr. Goddard,” Thomas replied formally.

“
Would you prefer dinner served soon, sir?” a hearty and hale woman questioned brightly.

“
Mrs. Masterson will have a bath. We shall take our meal upstairs in my sitting room.”

“
Very well,” the woman responded.

“
Mrs. Masterson and I will review the staff tomorrow afternoon.”

“
Excuse me, Mrs. Masterson?” The woman waited permission to continue.

“
Please, go on,” Evangeline encouraged. “But first, you must tell me your name.”

Red hair escaped the white cap's edge, short unruly curls springing in all directions around her face. “My name? Oh! Of course, Mrs. Masterson. Mrs. Betsy O'Leary.” The flustered woman smiled broadly, curtsied and continued. “Will you require anything with your bath special, Mrs. Masterson?”

“
The bath will be satisfactory, Mrs. O'Leary. Thank you.”

The red headed woman beamed. “Anything you'd like, you've only to mention and I'll make sure you get it.”

Evangeline covered the small smile escaping her with her hand, collecting herself. “How very kind, Mrs. O'Leary.”

Thomas sent an I-told-you-not-to-worry look her way. Guiding her toward the staircase, he rested his hand against the small of her back. Eager to have her alone, Thomas could endure no further delays.

* * *

“
Evangeline, you must eat something.” She'd not eaten much at breakfast either, Thomas remembered. “Eat. For me.”

His bride blushed furiously and continued to push her food around the plate. “I'll try,” she resolved softly, “but I've no appetite today.”

Her earnest attempt and honesty combined to set his blood afire.

Dash it all!

He didn't give a damn about her untouched plate. In one swift motion Thomas stood and held his hand out toward her. “Come with me, sweetheart.” He grew hard as iron when she obeyed at once.

Leading her into his bedroom, now their bedroom, her slight tremors blossomed to steady trembling beneath his hand. He stroked his thumb against the back of her hand, hoping to soothe in some small way the anxiety pulsing from her. The massive bed loomed before them, symbolic he sensed – to her – of the surrender she had undergone in becoming his wife. Upon reaching the bed's edge he stilled, regarding her carefully. The way in which he proceeded would affect her profoundly, and the responsibility of her happiness and sense of security rested heavily on his heart.

She stared straight ahead, her body next to his, but her inner self locked tightly away; he needed to woo her, to unravel her thread by thread. Sliding his hands up her arms, Thomas drew her against his chest, holding her loosely in an effort to ease her obvious discomfort. “Evangeline,” he husked, “relax. You are all right.”

She exhaled, releasing her pent up breath with a small whimper.

“
Easy, sweetheart.” Slowly, he slid his arms up and down her back atop the satiny night gown. Soft, gentle caresses followed, meant to lull and comfort. Untold minutes he continued, savoring the press of her against his body, awaiting the moment of her capitulation to his nearness. When at last she softened, he smiled into her hair and kissed the top of her head. “Lie down,” he whispered, easing her back onto the bed.

Her trembling returned in earnest. Thomas slid next to her and cupped her face in his hands. “Look at me, Evangeline.”

Her eyes fluttered open, fear and uncertainty mingling. Brushing her lips with his own, he watched her eyes widen, felt her body tense. Thomas stopped at once. “Tell me what happened just now. What went through your mind?”