Ambersley (Lords of London) (41 page)

Derek’s hold on Ambersley and the title was tenuous at best, his fortune minimal, his relationship with his closest family members precarious. If he loved Johanna with the selfless devotion she deserved, he’d release her and grant her the one thing she’d asked of him—the freedom to choose her own husband.

He climbed from his bed to prowl restlessly about the chamber. He should put everything right. He should grant Curtis the Ambersley patent, he should confess the sins of his birth to Society and leave once more for India as he’d planned long ago. He should release Johanna to find a love more deserving than his. He stopped at the window to look down upon the rose garden, its once meticulous care abandoned until the bushes now grew wild in riotous clumps. Johnny could reclaim that garden in less than a week.

With a sigh, Derek acknowledged he’d do none of the things he
should
do. He needed Johanna as desperately as those roses needed sunlight—for sustenance. He’d been granted an opportunity to bind her to him forever, and by God, he’d take it.

For the hundredth time, he considered whether this marriage was ill-advised and came to the same conclusion—it most decidedly was. He was a selfish bastard to force her into it.

So be it.

Chapter 19

Ambersley, July 1815

The marriage of Derek Preston Vaughan, twelfth Duke of Ambersley, to Amber Johanna Vaughan, heiress to the Vaughan fortune, took place on July 22, 1815. It was a small affair, with only family members and Nigel Minton present.

Rosalie Vaughan stood outside Ambersham’s tiny chapel with her children, reluctant to witness more of her hopes dashed. She seethed with frustration that both Derek and that chit had spoiled her plans. Her only consolation was that both bride and groom looked miserable.

“
Mark me, Curtis, Derek will pay for this indignity to us today, and you shall get your due.”

“
Mother, leave it be. Today of all days, please. Derek owes me nothing.”

Rosalie raised her hand and barely repressed the urge to slap him. He stood half a head taller than she now, and he no longer regarded her with any fear, only a wariness that frustrated her. He’d become a man—worse, he’d become his
own
man, one who didn’t seek her guidance.

“
I’ve set my hopes in you, Curtis. Do not disappoint me.” She gathered her skirts to climb the steps into the church, but paused to look over her shoulder at the children. “After the ceremony, we leave for London.”

Curtis raised his brows. “But the party—”

She shot him a look that silenced him.
Party. There was nothing here for any of
her
family to celebrate.

“
We’ve missed enough of the Season as it is.” Rosalie looked beyond her troublesome son to her daughter. The fresh air and rest had added a glow to the girl’s eyes and skin. “Now that the heiress is wed, we need to see to proper matches for both of you.”

“
Yes, Mama.” Olivia dropped her a curtsey, ever dutiful and obedient. She might yet be the salvation of the family.

Rosalie turned and climbed the steps, leaving Curtis and Olivia to follow.

Mr. Minton, assigned the task of giving Johanna away, stood with her at the back of the church. He watched her with solemn bespectacled eyes. “I came to Ambersley to write your father’s will after you were born. Your parents loved you dearly, I remember. They would be very proud of you today.”

Johanna’s hand covered her mouth in surprise. “Thank you,” she managed to whisper, but there was no time to say more before he led her down the aisle. Throughout the ceremony, her vision remained misty with memories of what had been and dreams of what might be. Derek’s jaw tightened when he pulled back her veil and spotted the telltale moisture. Johanna braced herself for his kiss, but his lips lightly touched hers in a brief caress. She swallowed hard and smiled tremulously in response. He didn’t smile as he led her from the church.

Johanna was grateful to climb into the barouche for the ride back to Ambersley Hall and avoid Lady Vaughan’s bitter scowl and Aunt Bess’s frown of concern. She sat beside Derek, who remained silent, while she tried very hard not to think about what this day could have been if only he loved her. Derek’s own words returned from her childhood to haunt her—words he’d spoken when he was convinced she was a boy.
No man loves his wife half so well as he loves his mistress. And much of that is because his mistress never swears she loves him, but his wife swears it constantly. A woman is never as attractive after she tells a man she loves him. That’s because you can never trust a woman to mean it.
She worried her lip with her teeth. How long would it take her to conquer these unwanted emotions?

Derek’s gaze slid over her dispassionately. Well, he’d done it. He’d married the one woman he wanted above all others. She was his—and she’d never looked more unobtainable than she did at this moment. She studied the landscape as if it were the only important thing in her life. Derek silently cursed his luck.

As the barouche pulled up before the Hall, Johanna heard a cheer rise on the wind. Derek hopped down from the carriage and offered his hand to assist her. Johanna gaped at the sight—the entire staff of Ambersley, and all the tenants as well, had gathered before the front doors to greet them. There were smiles and laughter, a few tears and much applause until Derek held up his hand for silence. He motioned Paget forward.

In his most commanding tones, Paget announced, “Presenting the Duke and Duchess of Ambersley. Welcome home, Lady Ambersley!”

Another cheer burst from the crowd, and a lump formed in Johanna’s throat as her family—for that’s how she’d always think of these people—applauded her. They were so obviously pleased to welcome her as their new mistress, she couldn’t help but smile. Looking over the sea of faces, Johanna saw Mrs. North dabbing her eyes, Stokes blowing his nose, Mrs. Chalmers nodding sagely, and Paget grinning like the village idiot. Johanna would have loved to celebrate this day with all of them, but knew it was inappropriate to her new station in life.

Derek interrupted the applause with a shout. “Luncheon will be served on the back lawn in half an hour!” Cheers erupted anew, but this time the crowd started to disperse. He looked down upon Johanna. “I thought you would like to include them in the celebration.”

“
Thank you.” She couldn’t find words to say more.

Derek cleared his throat. “I’m sorry Tom and Martha couldn’t be here today. I would have asked them to give you away.”

“
They would have liked that,” Johanna said softly.

Derek wondered if he’d upset her, but her smile appeared genuine as she took his hand and led him through the Hall to the back lawn. At least he could make her smile.

Johanna radiated sincere delight as the afternoon progressed. Her happiness today was all that mattered to him. Still, as the shadows lengthened, and people began to depart for their homes, he found himself unnerved at the prospect of being alone with her.

Harry and Aunt Bess took their leave during the afternoon. Johanna clung to Aunt Bess, as if she were only a small child and someone were taking away her favorite doll. “Must you go so soon?”

Aunt Bess tucked one of Johanna’s stray locks behind her ear. “You have no further need of a chaperone. Derek tells me you’re planning to return to London by the end of the week, so we will await you in Portman Square.”

Johanna nodded silently. This was the first she’d heard of her impending return to London. Apparently, Derek wanted to finish out the Season, or worse, he couldn’t wait to return to his mistress. At least she wouldn’t have to watch him squiring Charis Sumner about Town. Small consolation.

Supper was an affair of sumptuous delicacies. There was a turtle soup, and turbot with lobster and oysters followed by lamb cutlets with early peas from the little garden Paget still tended. Johanna picked at her plate as dishes came and went, for even the tiny meringues with chocolate cream tasted like dust. Her mouth felt so dry… She couldn’t remember ever being this nervous.

Following the meal, Derek asked if she’d care to join him in the library for a brandy. Surprised by his outrageous suggestion, she accepted, and he offered her his arm.

They sat in companionable silence while candles flickered in the breeze from the open French doors. Johanna nursed her dainty portion of the strong spirits, while Derek downed his in fiery gulps. Finally, his glass empty, he stood and offered her his hand. “Come Johanna, ’tis time we were abed.”

She let him lead her up the stairs to his room, his words echoing through her. She hoped she would get through this night without humiliating herself. She desperately wished she were experienced in the ways of lovemaking. Certainly, Derek would find no appeal in the gauche fumbling of an untried girl. Getting an heir was an integral part of any marriage, but Johanna remembered Derek telling her men and women derived intense pleasure from the act as well. She hoped she’d feel such pleasure—even more, she hoped Derek would.

Derek’s bedroom was awash with candlelight, and pale pink rose petals were strewn across the snowy sheets of the turned-down bed. Johanna’s stomach fluttered with nerves. She drew strength from the waxing moon, luminous outside the open window. The same glowing orb that had offered her friendship when she fought for Derek’s life had now returned from its monthly trek to shine away the worst of her fears.

Derek watched her step to the window where moonbeams bathed her in haloes and cast golden glints to her chestnut curls. Her skin shone ivory with a pale flush to her cheekbones as her eyes swept the room and landed on the bed. Her aqua eyes flickered with a silvery light under upswept lashes, and Derek longed to say something to drive her left eyebrow up in that maddening habit it had. He didn’t deserve her, this ethereal being who held the power in her eyebrow to fulfill or destroy him. He would need to tread delicately.

She tugged at her bottom lip with smooth white teeth. “I have a peignoir Aunt Bess helped me pick out—” She hesitated, and he glimpsed the thousand questions in her eyes.

“
Perhaps later. I see no need for you to change clothes when what I want is to see you without them entirely.”

His voice was a caress, and Johanna had to moisten her lips before they’d form words. “Is that what you want?”

Derek groaned at the sight of her tongue darting briefly across her lips. It only took a heartbeat for him to pull her into his arms. “That and so much more, Johanna.” Only then did his lips descend to hers.

Johanna quickly forgot the chaste kiss at the wedding altar. As their lips melted together, the simmering heat traveled through her body and pooled in the pit of her stomach where it glowed among embers of desire. Tentatively, she closed her fingers over the taut muscles of his shoulders and was rewarded with a viselike embrace as he pulled her to his full length. One of Derek’s hands pressed along the curve of her buttocks, and she experienced the heat of him as he held her.

He raised his head slowly to gaze into her eyes. Johanna smiled weakly. “I should ring for Nancy to help me undress.”

Derek laughed softly. “I think not. That door is locked, and I will murder with my own hands the first person who dares so much as knock upon it.” His tone was vehement and he took a steadying breath. “I’ve waited for this night for so long, Johanna. You have no idea how much I’ve wanted you.”

Her left eyebrow flew up in surprise and—maybe—hope. “Truly?”

He turned her around, unwilling to reveal how her unconscious gesture touched his heart.

“
What are you doing?” Johanna asked.

“
I’m undressing you. Do you mind?” Derek responded. His fingers began the arduous task of unbuttoning the length of her back. By the time he’d reached the tenth satin covered barrier, Derek experienced fully the exquisite torture of anticipation. Inhaling the soft fragrance from her nape, he plied gentle kisses along her shoulders as his fingers continued their downward advance.

Johanna breathed a slow sigh of pleasure at odds with her racing pulse. Already, she could feel a drawing sensation below her stomach where her legs came together. It was a totally new experience that emboldened her to speak. “Derek, I want to be a good wife, but—” She paused in indecision.

Derek turned her to face him. The white dress slipped down Johanna’s shoulders and she unconsciously shook it free until it slipped to her feet. She stood before him in nothing but the thin silk chemise and stockings, all smooth and ivory except for the pink tips of her breasts.