Married in Haste (11 page)

Leah swept up behind Tess and linked an arm in hers. “It’s like churning butter,” she whispered in Tess’s ear.

“What is?”

“Copulation.” She purred the last syllable of the word. “Oh, Tess, I’m in love and it is the most wondrous thing.”

“With Tiebauld—?” Rumor said her engagement to the Scot lord was almost finalized, although that hadn

’t stopped Leah from contacting Tess twice more with messages for Captain Draycutt.

“To the devil with Tiebauld! I won’t marry him, Tess. No matter what anyone says. I can’t! My heart belongs to another.”

“Draycutt?” This was even more alarming information. “Leah, he’s a ne’er-do-well. Everyone knows he doesn’t have a feather to fly with. Besides, you’ve just met him—”

“You don’t know him. Not like I do!” She drew Tess closer. “I’ve given my heart. I’ve given him everything.”

“Oh, Leah.” The words came out almost as a prayer for protection. “Be careful. Please, be careful.”

Leah gave her a swift hug. “How far we’ve come! Only last week, we were bitter enemies.”

“Not enemies. Rivals.”

“Oh, Tess, love is sweet, sweet,” she said, repeating the lines of the poem. “I feel invincible. As long as I love, nothing can harm me.” She danced off before Tess could ask more. She should have asked more.

In spite of the fact that Leah was playing a destructive game, Tess envied her. Leah knew.

Suddenly, the hairs along Tess’s neck tingled. She turned. Brenn watched her. Boldly, she stared back.

His lips lifted into a rueful smile. His gaze lowered and she felt it against her breasts as surely as if he touched her with his hand.

For a moment, she lost her breath. Her nipples tightened and she could swear that he knew his effect upon her.

Then the moment was broken when the duke of Westley’s son, a lad two years her junior, asked her to dance. She had no choice but to agree. When she glanced back at Brenn, he was engaged in conversation with their host again.

Stella opened the bedroom door. It was the night before Tess’s wedding.

“Not sleeping, are you?” Stella asked. She was still wearing the dress and jewelry she’d worn for the dinner she’d hosted for the wedding party earlier that evening.

Tess sat up in bed, so full of anxiety she was happy to see anyone, even Stella. “No.”

Stella carried a candle to the bedside. “No one ever sleeps the night before her wedding.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “Neil has been encouraging me for days to have a little talk with you…but—” She shrugged. “Silly me, I put it off.”

“Talk about what?” Tess asked cautiously.

“About the wedding bed.”

Tess pulled the covers up to her neck. “Oh.”

“Well, I suppose no one has told you?” Stella hinted.

“I’ve heard things.” She paused. “Stella, do you love Neil?”

Stella’s eyes blinked wide open at the suggestion. “What sort of question is that?”

“An honest one.” She thought back to the sparkle in Leah’s eyes. “Do you love him?” she reiterated.

“We get along passably well.”

“Did you love him when you married him?”

Stella stood. “What is all this about? Why are you asking these questions?”

“I want to know.”

“Well, you’d be wiser to concentrate on your obligations and stop talking nonsense. Tomorrow night, I’

ve prepared our best guest room for the two of you.”

“What is wrong with this room?”

“This is the room of your childhood. Besides, the other room is further down the hall and you won’t disturb anyone if there are problems.”

“Problems?”

Stella smiled complacently. “Don’t worry, Tess dear. I realize how difficult this might be for a woman as proud as yourself. A couple of glasses of wine should dull the pain. Drink heavily.”

Leah hadn’t mentioned anything about pain…but then, she was in love. Tess felt her stomach tie up in a knot of foreboding.

“When the time comes for you to share your husband’s bed,” Stella was saying, “do as he tells you. Don’

t fight. It never helps to fight.”

“Why would I fight?”

“Fear.” Stella seemed to enjoy saying the word. “But if you behave—something that has never been your strong suit—then the ordeal will be over before you realize it.” She walked to the door.

“Ordeal? Stella, what are you talking about?”

“Good night, Tess,” her spiteful sister-in-law whispered, and left the room without looking back.

Tess stared at the ceiling. Obviously, copulation wasn’t pleasant for everyone. Only for those like Minnie and Leah who were in love.

It was a long time before she fell asleep.

Chapter Six

Brenn had never been so nervous as he was on his wedding day.

Waiting at the front of the church, with Bishop Walters on one side of him and Sir Charles on the other, he was conscious that all eyes watched his every move. And why not? The bride was late.

Guests were packed into the pews. Everyone of importance attended this wedding. In fact, no less a personage than the Prince Regent himself, fondly known as Prinny, sat in the second row.

Brenn watched Prinny’s expression change from one of supreme boredom to surprised interest as people started checking fob watches. The minute hand moved slowly toward half past the hour.

Where was Tess?

Sir Charles leaned close. “Your bride may have bolted.”

“Not Tess.” Even as he said the words, Brenn prayed they were true. Last night, for the price of a guinea, Harve, the Hamlin footman, had conveyed the information that Tess had sent two more messages to Draycutt over the past week. Draycutt had been wise enough not to answer them.

Brenn had sought out the footman after meeting Deland Godwin in his club. The publisher had whispered in his ear that all might not be as it should be with Tess.

“I’m passing on that tidbit for your own good,” Godwin had told him with sanctimonious sincerity.

Brenn had been tempted to ignore him. Who in his right mind would trust a journalist? But he also feared Godwin might have found out about Tess’s baby. Tess had seemed unusually preoccupied over the last few days, as if something weighed heavily on her mind. The thought of her pining for her cavalry officer made him almost dizzy with jealousy. Not to mention the public humiliation she might be handing him.

What if Godwin printed what he suspected?

And yet, running away seemed out of character for her…So did having an illicit affair.

Fears, hopes, and dreams for their future together sparred with self-doubt. He wished now he had honestly confessed how desperately he needed her money.

Or had she already found out and that was why she was missing?

Sir Charles’s voice brought him back to the present. “She isn’t coming, Merton. We can’t keep standing here—”

“She’ll be here.”

At that moment, there was a stir at the door of the church. Heads turned. Watches checked. Eyebrows raised. And Brenn released his breath.

Tess had arrived.

The wedding began without further delay. The first person up the aisle was Stella. Sophisticated, elegant, so obviously pleased that she was the center of attention, she took her time walking to her place in the first pew.

Then came Anne Burnett. Tess had chosen the sweet, unassuming girl to be her single attendant. She wore a dress of gold and sea-foam-green muslin. Spring flowers peeked out from the curls of her hair.

A murmur from the guests drew his attention to the back of the church. He turned to see Tess standing there, escorted by her brother.

Dressed in lavender satin trimmed in lace, she had never looked more stunning. His doubts evaporated.

From a hidden alcove, Lady Ottley’s Italian soprano began singing a lilting aria of love blessed. Tess glided up the aisle. Her dressed shimmered with her every movement. The noonday sun coming in through the church’s antique stained-glass windows played on the fiery highlights of her hair.

Brenn felt his chest swell with pride.

And then she was beside him. Her brother placed her gloved hand on Brenn’s arm and stepped back.

She was trembling. Brenn tried to give her a reassuring smile but she wouldn’t raise her gaze to meet his.

He moved his arm so that he could clasp her hand. Her fingers were stiff and awkward.

Emerald pins held her hair in place and a necklace of blood-red ruby flowers chained together by emerald leaves circled her neck. They reminded Brenn of how much she was bringing to the marriage and how little he had to offer.

The moonstone wedding ring in his pocket dimmed in comparison to the precious gems she already wore.

He should stop the ceremony. Tell the truth. That there was no castle at Erwynn Keep except in his imagination.

But he wouldn’t do that.

He wanted her. The future would take care of itself. Right now there was only this moment.

Bishop Walters began the ceremony. He’d earlier told Brenn that he had baptized Tess when she was a wee babe. Listening to their vows were men and women of wealth and means, the very ruling class of England…and they accepted Brenn as one of them because of his title and his association with this woman.

Brenn repeated his vows to “comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health” but then quietly broke tradition. Lacing her fingers with his, he said in a voice low enough for the two of them alone, “You will never regret this marriage.”

Her lashes swept up and for the first time she looked at him. Her clear blue eyes were a mirror of her soul—but instead of appreciation, acknowledgment, or even that most feminine of all emotions, love, he read panic.

For one insane moment, he had the impression that she was ready to cry off, that she wished to turn on her heel and run for the door of the church.

He tightened his hold on her hand. She gulped for breath.

Bishop Walters frowned. “Is it possible for us to continue with this service?” he asked pointedly in an undervoice.

Tess nodded. The bishop began saying her vows. She repeated them in a faint, solemn voice.

Listening to her, Brenn couldn’t help wondering sourly if she thought of Draycutt. He’d make her forget that rogue if he had to lock her in the bedroom and make passionate love to her every hour of the day…an idea that didn’t sound at all distasteful. No, not at all—

“My lord?” the bishop’s voice interrupted Brenn’s thoughts. “Do you have the ring?”

“The ring?” Brenn repeated blankly.

“It’s time for the ring,” the clergyman whispered with a touch of exasperation.

“Yes, the ring,” Brenn answered. He pulled the moonstone from his pocket.

Tess removed her gloves. Her hands were like blocks of ice.

He slipped the moonstone on her finger. It wouldn’t go beyond her knuckle. He pressed harder, fighting off a sick sense of dread. He’d designed this ring himself. He’d had it sized especially for her. Paid the jeweler extra to rush its fabrication. It had to fit.

“Don’t force it,” Bishop Walters warned through a frozen smile. “Sometimes this happens when the bride is very nervous. Her fingers have swollen.”

“Oh,” Tess said, embarrassed. She closed her fist so that she could keep the ring in place. Tears welled in her eyes and she gave him an uncertain smile. “It’s lovely.”

Brenn covered her hand with his warm one, fighting off a sense that this marriage was going to be a disaster. Together, they would build a life for themselves. “Together,” he repeated.

Tess gave a small start. The tears vanished as if by magic. “Yes, together,” she echoed. Her smile was like a ray of light on an overclouded day.

Brenn couldn’t help but return her smile, his doubts evaporating even as the bishop’s voice filled the corners of the church. “I pronounce they are man and wife.”

The deed was done.

Brenn placed Tess’s hand on his arm and turned to face the congregation. He walked down the aisle, proud of the woman by his side. Faces he hardly recognized beamed approving smiles at them. Tess’s brother seemed inordinately pleased. Stella was sobbing softly for effect, huge tears rolling down her cheeks from remarkably clear eyes.

They paused at the door to sign the register as man and wife. Then Brenn escorted her out of the church.

The day was fresh and sunny with a fair breeze. Lazy clouds drifted across a blue sky. The perfect day for a wedding.

A shiny green barouche with brass trimmings and a high-stepping set of matched grays waited for them at the front step. Brenn had hired the conveyance to drive them back to Hamlin’s house where the wedding breakfast would be held. Surrounding it was a group of idlers and gawkers, members of the populace who wanted to see the fancy people or catch a glimpse of Prinny. The Hamlin footmen attempted to wave them away.

“We want to see the bride!” one impudent voice shouted out. The demand was quickly echoed by the others.

“Come,” Brenn said to Tess. “Let’s give them what they want. Let them see the most beautiful bride in the world.”

Tess colored prettily. She waved to the crowd and they “ah’ed” their approval.

“Kiss her!” a chimney sweep’s lad shouted. He’d pushed his way to the front. A footman tried to push him back, but the lad ducked and repeated his demand.

Brenn didn’t know what was considered proper—behind him, Stella complained about the “dirty rabble outside”—but a kiss sounded like an excellent idea.

The last time he’d kissed her, he’d been demanding, wanting to know the truth of his suspicions. Now, under the blue sky and in front of the world, he approached this kiss with reverence. This was his wife.

His helpmate. The one for whom he had forsaken all others.

As his lips came down on hers, her lips parted and then sweetly fit against his.

Kissing Tess could be habit-forming. The world around them faded and there was only this delicious woman in his arms.

The crowd roaring with approval brought him back to his senses. He broke off the kiss. Her face was red but her eyes sparkled with laughter. He didn’t think she’d ever looked more beautiful.

He helped Tess into the carriage and with a snap of the whip, the coachman drove them on their way.

Children ran at its wheels while the adults shouted good wishes.