Loving the Marquess (12 page)

The music started and together they stepped into the main
area of the chapel and started down the aisle. Overlea was true to his word and
the wedding was a small one. As expected, only her family and his grandmother
were present. She didn’t recognize the man standing by his side, but she spared
him only a quick glance before her attention became riveted on her future
husband. His dark gaze locked with hers and she could see the approval in his
eyes.

She must have made a little sound because her brother swung
his head to look at her, his brows raised in question. Knowing he would like
nothing more than to spirit her away from the chapel, she shook her head in a
small, abbreviated movement and turned her attention back to the man waiting
for her at the end of the aisle. She wasn’t certain, but she thought she
detected a hint of relief in his expression. It seemed she wasn’t the only one
who’d thought the other might have changed their mind about the marriage.

The walk down the aisle was a short one and before she knew
it, her brother had placed her hand in Overlea’s. In a low voice John warned
him to take care of her before he retreated to his seat. Nicholas squeezed her
hand to reassure her and she couldn’t stop the smile that sprang to her lips.

She tried to keep her attention on the reverend, but Overlea
drew her eyes and attention like a magnet. Despite the preparations of the last
few weeks, she still found it difficult to believe she was actually standing
here, about to marry him. He was more handsome than any man had a right to be
and could have any woman he wanted. With his black hair and dark eyes, he also
exuded an intriguing hint of danger. There was a provocative edge to the man
that was almost impossible to resist.

Before she knew it, they were married.

Overlea bent to kiss her. It wasn’t a long kiss, merely the
light brushing of his lips against hers, but it served as notice that her
future and that of her siblings were now in his keeping. In a daze, she
remained silent while Overlea placed her hand on his arm and led the way out of
the chapel. The small group of witnesses gathered outside where Lady Overlea
swept her into a surprisingly firm hug and welcomed her into the family.
Overlea spared a moment to introduce her to his good friend, the Earl of
Kerrick, before leading her to their waiting carriage. She couldn’t help but
wonder at his haste.

He handed her in before following and taking the seat
opposite her. In the small space, she was very aware of how he seemed to fill
the entire carriage. Of his scent and the way his long legs seemed to take up
all the available space. She leaned back in her seat, closed her eyes and
concentrated on her breathing in an attempt to hold back the nerves that were
threatening to surface now that they were alone. It was difficult to take a
deep breath because of the tightness of her stays, but the undergarment did
wonders to accentuate her bosom.

She opened her eyes again when the carriage began to move.
Nicholas was staring out the carriage window, but upon sensing her gaze he
turned his complete attention on her.

“How does it feel to be the new Marchioness of Overlea?”

She frowned. “I didn’t marry you for your title.”

“True,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion, “but I am sure
it will be of great consolation to you.”

Something was different about him, but she couldn’t say
what.

“I wasn’t sure you would return,” she said after a short
pause.

“I had little choice in the matter.”

“You are the Marquess of Overlea. You could have done
whatever you wished.”

His lips twisted ruefully at her words. “There are some
things that are beyond even my reach.”

“Such as?”

She was curious about what had caused his strange mood. He
was silent for a long time and she didn’t think he was going to reply, so was
surprised when he finally said, “My illness.”

Was he going to tell her what had happened to him that
night? And his phrasing made it sound as though it was not something that was
in the past.

“Are you feeling unwell, my lord?”

“Nicholas, remember?”

She licked her lips. “Of course. But you haven’t answered my
question.”

He shrugged. She hoped he was about to confide in her, but
the carriage began to slow then.

“We’re almost there.” There was a subtle shift in his
demeanor and she knew they wouldn’t be returning to the subject of his health.
“Has my grandmother told you what to expect today?”

She nodded. Since there would be a ball later that evening,
they were doing away with the traditional wedding breakfast. Instead, she would
go to her new bedroom, where the same maid who had helped her to dress earlier
would be waiting to assist her in changing out of her wedding dress. Later that
evening, after the guests arrived for the ball, she and her new husband would
enter together and she would be formally introduced as the new Marchioness of
Overlea. Invitations had gone out to those families who lived within a few
hours’ drive of Overlea Manor, which included those who had town homes in
London. It seemed that upon hearing the rumor Overlea would be announcing his
betrothal at this ball, a number of families had returned to town just so they
could attend the event.

“This will be your first ball?”

She nodded, trying not to think about all the eyes that
would soon be on her. When she failed, she covered her face with her hands.
“Everyone will be whispering about me.”

She heard him move, and he was beside her when he pulled her
hands away and tilted her face up to his.

“They can think what they like, but no one will dare insult
you and risk displeasing Grandmother and me.”

She sighed. “After tonight everyone will know that ours is
not a love match. I suppose it doesn’t matter. Such arrangements are made all
the time.”

He tilted his head and looked at her, a slight frown marring
his brow. “That was important to you? Marrying for love? I thought you were
more practical than to wish for such nonsense.”

She blushed under his intense scrutiny. “Most women hope for
as much. They may not say so, but the desire is there nonetheless.”

His voice lowered as he asked his next question. “Do you
regret agreeing to marry me?”

He seemed to genuinely want to know. She thought back to the
last three weeks. To the doubts she’d had and the internal struggle that would
follow where she told herself she was being practical and doing the right thing
for her family. She remembered her unease as the days passed and Nicholas
hadn’t returned from London. Her worry about whether he’d changed his mind, and
her intense relief when she’d received his letter telling her that he would be
returning the day before the wedding. At the time she’d told herself she was
only worried because of the uncertainty surrounding what would happen to her
family if he called off the wedding, but then she thought about the jolt of
awareness she’d experienced when she saw him again today, waiting for her at
the end of the aisle. And there was also the undeniable attraction between them
now.

“No, I have no regrets.”

He seemed relieved at her assertion. Her breath caught and
held when he lowered his head.

“I’m glad,” he said before his lips met hers.

It was the merest brush of his lips against hers, no
different than the kiss they had shared at the end of the wedding ceremony, yet
a jolt of awareness coursed through her body at the contact. He pulled back to
stare down at her and the very air seemed to thicken around them.

The carriage came to a halt, interrupting the moment of
intimacy, and Nicholas looked away.

They remained silent as a footman handed her out of the
carriage and Nicholas escorted her up the short flight of stairs to Overlea
Manor. She hesitated when Sommers opened the door and she saw that the staff
was waiting, lined in two long rows along the hallway. She had already met many
of them over the past weeks, but couldn’t help feeling self-conscious when she
was formally introduced as Lady Overlea. She’d spent the last three weeks
surrounded by preparations for today’s wedding and the ball that was to follow
tonight. During that time she’d tried not to think about her future role as the
Marchioness of Overlea, but she could no longer ignore how much her life would
change. The reality was overwhelming.

She managed a few words to the staff, although she couldn’t
say afterward what they were, before Nicholas dismissed them. She expected him
to have her new lady’s maid accompany her to her rooms and was surprised when
he escorted her himself. It occurred to her, then, that he might intend to
consummate their marriage right away, and the thought caused her to stumble on
the stairs. He reached out to steady her, his warm hand on the small of her
back, and a shiver of awareness went through her. If Nicholas noticed he didn’t
say anything, but he did remove his hand when they reached the landing.

She already knew the way to her rooms, which adjoined
Nicholas’s, and preceded him down the corridors. With every step she was
conscious of his very masculine presence at her side. The silence that
stretched between them threatened to suffocate her and it only grew more
oppressive with each step. Desperate for something to break through that
stillness, her thoughts settled on the one unhappy face she couldn’t help but
notice after their arrival at the manor.

“Your valet doesn’t like me,” she said.

Nicholas stopped and she turned to look at him. He was
frowning, but his face cleared before he spoke. “Harrison is like that with
everyone.”

He started to walk again and she had to hurry to catch up.

“Why did you hire him, then? Surely you’d prefer someone who
wasn’t so…” She searched for the right word to describe him and finally settled
on “sour.”

Nicholas shrugged. “I didn’t hire him. He was my father’s
valet, and James used him as well when he inherited. I didn’t have the heart to
let him go when I became marquess. He was loyal to them and I have doubts he’d
be able to find another situation. Just ignore him, his negativity isn’t personal.”

Louisa wasn’t so sure about that, but she tried to shrug off
her unease. They’d finally reached her bedroom and there was another moment of
awkward silence when Nicholas turned to look at her.

He spoke first. “I’ll take my leave of you now. I’m sure
Grandmother has seen to it that your rooms will be satisfactory.”

She looked up at him. “You’re not coming in?”

His expression was shuttered and she couldn’t tell what he
was thinking. It left her feeling at a distinct disadvantage.

He raised a hand, brushing the back of his fingers against
her cheek. “You look tired.”

She swallowed hard before replying. “I slept very little
last night.”

He dropped his hand and took a step back, and she felt the
absence of his touch acutely.

“You should rest, then, before tonight’s celebration.”

She could only nod in reply before slipping into her room.

* * *
* *

Nicholas made his way to the study and sank heavily into the
oak chair behind his desk. He leaned back and stared up at the ceiling, seeing
again the way Louisa had looked at him in the carriage. For a moment he’d
allowed himself to believe she was with him because she wanted to be there and
not because her family needed his protection. She’d been surprised just now
when she realized he wasn’t going to join her in her bedroom, but not nearly as
surprised as he’d been by the strength of his desire to make love to her. It
was true that there were ways to avoid pregnancy, but he could not risk
fathering a child and passing on his illness.

No, it would be better for everyone involved if he stayed
away from his wife. Theirs could never be a real marriage.

He’d been attracted to Louisa from the start, but today,
watching her walk down the aisle, no longer enshrouded in drab colors, he’d
been struck anew by her beauty. He didn’t regret choosing her for his
marchioness, but he now realized how dangerous she would be to his peace of
mind. He needed Kerrick to agree to his plan, and with any luck she would
conceive a son with her first pregnancy.

He hated the thought of his wife and his good friend
together. They had only been introduced briefly after the wedding ceremony and
already he wanted nothing more than to send Kerrick away. He’d never given any
thought to marrying, but he’d always assumed that one day he would wed. He
never would have imagined, though, that he would then have to stand back and
hand his wife over to another man.

He stood and walked over to the small cupboard where he knew
his brother had kept a bottle of brandy and poured a small amount into a glass.
It was still early, but he needed the extra strength to get through the hours
until the evening’s celebrations.

He turned when the door opened. His grandmother eyed his
glass with obvious disapproval. He placed the drink on the desk before turning
back to her.

“You chose well,” she said. “It was almost worth the
tongue-lashing I received from my daughter-in-law.”

Nicholas’s mouth twisted in distaste. “I cannot believe
everyone thought I would wed Mary. I’ve never developed a taste for
self-sacrifice.”

A strange expression crossed his grandmother’s face. For one
panic-stricken moment he thought she suspected what he planned to do, but he
quickly dismissed the thought. Grandmother would never approve and she would
waste no time in telling him so.

“She is going to be a fine wife and marchioness,” she said.
“And perhaps, in some small way, this makes up for what Henry did to that
family.”

He hoped his grandmother never learned about Edward’s most
recent proposition to Louisa. His fists clenched just thinking about it, but he
forced himself to relax. A change in subject was definitely in order.