Portrait of a Scandal (6 page)

She gave a half laugh after trying and failing to imagine her father as a rake. A man who had been as devoted as her father had been towards her mother could never have trifled with multiple women’s affections.

“Thomas cares for you. Do not discount that, Nel. We had a long talk, and I believe you know I would never agree to give my blessing to a man who I did not know for certain could make you happy.” He sighed. “I believe he would allow you to be yourself and not cage you, as many gentlemen would try to. I would hate to see your spirit broken, as I know you would hate for Geist’s to be if he were taken by another owner,” he said, as she stroked her horse’s sleek coat. “Thomas will not attempt to break you, Nel, I truly believe that. I wish for you to settle, but if you really believe that he will not make you happy, tell me now and we will not speak of this again. But know this, Nel—I will see you married before long. The next suitor I choose may not strike your interest at all.”

Her gaze snapped to her father. “You would force me to marry a man I do not love?”

“I will have you married before I die, Nel. Your mother’s illness was proof that life is fickle. I love you more than my own life and for that reason I will not see you grow into an old maid. You have too much beauty to be shunned and hold too much promise as a mother not to be given the opportunity. Thomas is a good man and I know you care for him, despite your fighting it. Consider your options.”

Her father placed a tender hand on her shoulder before he leant down and kissed her forehead. Tears leaked from her eyes as she watched him exit the stables.

Chapter Three

The engagement was not a long one—three weeks, in fact. She had barely had time to settle into the idea of marrying a man who, if he knew the truth, would never want her. She was still, even on the day of her wedding, so very uncertain as to whether she had made the right decision.

She had spent more time with Thomas since the hunt. He had ridden to his family estate in Cambridge the day after she had accepted his proposal, and had returned regularly to see her. They had taken walks, and while he had been nothing but the perfect gentleman, Nellie had still felt his desire for her. It flowed from the man. Was hers as strong? Her father had never left them alone since their betrothal, so it was difficult to tell. If he had not accompanied them, her maid, Anne, had done.

While Thomas had not spoken as boldly as he had on the hunt, he still seemed eager to hear her thoughts on certain subjects. It seemed he had spoken the truth—he did want to know what she had to say. Or was he simply humouring her? She had no idea. Was her father truly right in his assumption that Thomas would make her happy?

It was today, on the day of their wedding, that Nellie felt most nervous. Guilt ate at her. She felt drawn to Thomas—he was the first man she had met who held any interest in her or seemed to truly listen to her opinions. He did not simply agree with her to please her—if he didn’t agree with her they quickly fell into a discussion, sometimes heated and sometimes more conversational. She adored those times. Her father, as dear as he was to her, usually agreed with her simply to please her, not counting that night in the stables. Thomas, however, did not seek to placate her with soft words. They engaged in conversations and she felt, day by day, that she could indeed have a future with this man. Love? Perhaps in time, but she felt a friendship was without a doubt already forming.

It was the guilt, though, that always held her back. She worried he would discover it had been she who had taken the picture of him and Lady Mary. It had been she who had sold it to the paper and she who could have had them publicly exposed if it had not been for Carl’s greed—something she was now thankful for. Regardless of anything else, Nellie was glad the picture had never made it into the paper. In fact, to think of it now made her feel physically ill, the idea of Thomas with another woman pained her so.

It was another thing that bothered her. He had assured her that he would keep to his wife’s bed and her bed alone. But what if she did not please him? Would he stray? Then what was she to do? Live with it, simply accept the life she had been dealt? Would it be her penance for taking the money to save her family?

Nellie sighed as she sat at the dressing table in her father’s London home. They had arrived yesterday. Thomas’ mother had asked Nellie if she would mind holding the ceremony at Westminster Abbey instead of the church on her ancestral estate. She had agreed, not caring in the slightest. All the Dukes of Sterling had been married there, and his mother did not want Thomas to be an exception.

Thomas’ mother was a kind woman who seemed pleased her son was settling down. Thomas was an only child and his family, like her own, seemed to be filled with love. Nellie hoped it would carry through the generations.

Tonight she and Thomas would spend their wedding night at his London townhouse and she worried about the deception in their past, as she perhaps always would. Thomas had said that the past should remain there and that they should look to the future, but still it pained her. The deceit did not sit well with her. Yes, she knew she had returned her family to rights, but it had been at Thomas’ expense.

Nellie had thought she would only ever give herself to the man she loved. She sighed. Did she love Thomas? No, not yet, but she did have strong feelings for him, and she believed those feelings could grow into love. Or so she hoped.

Thomas was the only man who accepted her for who she was—or at least, who he thought she was. How could she refuse him, with her father’s ultimatum or without?

* * * *

Pulling her coat tighter against the chill of the evening, Nellie waited for Thomas to exit the carriage before she followed, taking his hand when he offered it. Once her slippered foot touched the ground he did not release his grasp. Instead, he gave her hand a squeeze and led her towards her new home.

The servants stood at attention as they entered, lining the lobby. Nellie smiled at them, not that they saw. They all stood, chin up and looking at the centre of the room. It was custom to be placed on show for the inspection of their new mistress. It was an odd and demeaning tradition.

Thomas assisted with her coat then moved past the servants, introducing them one by one. Once they’d reached the end, he started towards the stairs. Nellie stopped, causing Thomas to halt also.

“I look forward to meeting you all more informally over the next few days,” Nellie said.

It was almost unheard of to address servants as people, not property, but times were changing and if they were to work in her home, Nellie wanted to be able to trust them. She and her father had earned very loyal servants at her family estate by getting to know them individually and treating them with respect. It was something she planned to ensure here, as well.

She turned back to Thomas, who gave her hand another squeeze and offered a smile before he led her up the stairs.

“I will, of course, give you a proper tour of the house tomorrow,” he said as they reached the first landing.

“And not tonight?” she asked.

He regarded her with a smile. “No. I thought you would be tired. It has been a long day.”

Yes, it had indeed. Nellie had been slightly overwhelmed with the amount of people who had descended upon Westminster Abbey for the ceremony, then to Sterling House for a celebration ball in their honour. She could barely remember all the names and faces. Thomas’ mother had spared no expense. Her father had cried and hugged her fiercely, foregoing any attempt at decorum. She had been glad, and had hugged him back just as fervently. Nellie was worried for him and would speak to Thomas about it. She hoped he would not mind allowing her to return to the country for regular visits. She was all her father had left.

Thomas moved to the door at the end of the long hall and pushed it open. Anne rose from where she was sitting and smiled. Nellie tried to offer her one back but feared she failed.

“I will leave you in your maid’s capable hands,” he said, raising her gloved hand to his mouth and giving it a kiss. He offered her another smile and left, closing the door gently behind him.

Nellie started at the closed door for a moment, disappointed.

“Oh, my lady, he is truly handsome. You are indeed a lucky woman. Come, quick!” Anne said eagerly.

“What is the rush?” Anne had never been in such a rush to prepare her for bed before.

Anne grabbed her arm and hurried her to the mirror, already working on the ties of her dress. “I have a bath prepared and already have your mother’s nightdress out and ready.”

“My mother’s?”

“Yes, I dug it out of storage and had it cleaned before we left. You will look divine in it.”

Nellie stared at her maid. “Why would I need to look nice for bed?”

Anne paused, a frown creasing her brow. “It is your wedding night, my Lady.”

“I am aware of that, Anne,” she said, feeling disgruntled about her new husband’s lack of interest in her.

“But do you not want to look nice?”

Nellie stared at her maid in puzzlement. “Why would I need to look nice when I sleep, Anne? I never have before.”

The woman blinked twice then bit her bottom lip. “Ah, did your mother not tell you about the bedding?”

It was Nellie’s turn to blink. “I am aware of what goes on between a husband and wife, yes. However, it seems my new husband is not looking to perform that deed tonight,” she almost spat. “And how do you know what goes on in a married bed?”

Anne blushed for a moment then shook her head. “No, my Lady. He is giving you time to prepare.” She had not completely answered the question, but Nellie was too busy processing her comment to pursue the subject further.

“Prepare?”

“Yes. He will come for you, I am sure of it.”

He would come for her…
Oh, my!

A short time later, Anne departed and Nellie waited, sitting briefly on the side of the bed before standing—unable to control her unease she paced around the room.

Her chamber was beautifully decorated—Anne had seen to it today. The lavender walls displayed pictures from Nellie’s chamber at home, or her father’s home, now. Favoured trinkets of hers also decorated the room. She let her finger run over the glass horse her father had bought for her in Paris. It reminded her of Geist. The stallion had not travelled to London with them. Nellie had worried he would not like town life, and had asked the stable master to turn him out to pasture until she returned for him. He was an animal who needed to run free. Hyde Park was not a place to offer this.

Nellie again sat on the side of the turned down bed. Would he come here, or was she supposed to go to him? Several minutes passed, and suddenly she became hurt and angry. He did not want her. Perhaps, although it was their wedding night, he had gone into the arms of one of his loose women. Tears suddenly sprang into her eyes and she blew out the candle beside the bed, casting the room into darkness.

Crawling beneath the covers, Nellie acknowledged she had been foolish to believe she could mean more to Thomas than a broodmare he had acquired to birth his young. Her father had been wrong. Thomas was heir to his father’s estate, after all. That was all men sought woman of breeding for, wasn’t it? Simply to give them young. She felt such a fool for thinking she could mean more to her husband.

She snuggled into the softness of her pillow, allowing her tears to be absorbed in the fabric beneath her.

Sudden light spilled into the room and Nellie sat up with a start. Thomas stood in the connecting doorway, a candle in hand, wearing nothing but a pair of navy pantaloons. She felt herself swallow.

Thomas simply looked at her for what seemed like an eternity, before he walked forward and closed the door behind him. He went to the opposite side of the bed to hers and placed the candle on the table as he pulled back the covers. His gaze never left hers as he unbuttoned his pantaloons one button at a time. Nellie felt her eyes widen but could not draw them away. She was fixated on the movement of his fingers. Once all the buttons were undone, he allowed the fabric to drop, his eyes still on her. Nellie’s mouth went dry as he stood naked in front of her, his proud cock standing to attention, the moisture at its tip glistening in the soft candlelight.

Moisture gathered at her core as well, her inner muscles clenching with the thought of him being inside her, his impressive cock sliding into her, bringing her pleasure unlike anything she had ever felt. Nellie had never seen a man’s cock before now, but she could not imagine them getting much bigger. She doubted her small hand would surround its girth.

Thomas slid into bed and blew out the candle, placing the room into total darkness once more.

Nellie’s heart raced as she sat wondering what would happen next. She did not have to wait long.

“Come here,” Thomas whispered as he pulled her up alongside him, resting her head on his chest. “Goodnight, wife.”

Thomas was in physical pain. Oh, God, he wanted his wife! She had sat there, watching him undress with wide eyes. She was clearly virginal—if he had not believed her word before this, he would believe it now. She knew nothing of what it was like to be touched by a man and he couldn’t wait to show her, but he would not rush into it. She was delicate, his new wife, and he would not frighten her by taking her too early. He would allow her to become comfortable with him first, then he would take his pleasure by evoking her own.

She settled upon his torso, working her delicate hands though the hairs upon his chest. Puffs of her warm breath caressed his nipples. His balls would surely be blue by morning.

Oh, God! This woman is going to kill me!

She shifted closer against him, her soft body melting into his hard one. Thomas mentally cursed his restraint, but held on to it regardless. Even so, all he could imagine doing was flipping her onto her back and loving her until morning.

“Are you tired, husband?” she whispered.