Realm 06 - A Touch of Love (62 page)

“Oh, yes, Carter. I can think of nothing I wish more than to become your wife.”

Carter claimed her mouth. He had wanted her for what felt forever, and now she belonged to him. Fierce need had him deepening the kiss; his hand sliding up her waist so his fingers might graze the underside of her breasts. The image of her mesmerizing eyes had remained with him for the past two years, and with their joining, Carter could lose himself in their depths without censure. Her vulnerability tugged at Carter’s natural need to protect.

Desire flooded his mind. He was lying in bed with the woman he loved–her mouth pressed to his and her hands stroking his chest and arms. It was like nothing Carter had ever thought possible. True, her delectable body fired his blood, but Lucinda was more than simply a desirable woman: She was intelligent, resourceful, and compassionate. More importantly, she made him forget about his responsibilities to anything but her. Claiming Lucinda Warren would be the pinnacle of his life.

A light tap on the door warned him Bella meant to return, and Carter reluctantly released her mouth and nudged Lucinda to a seated position. Having but one mobile arm hampered his efforts, and Bella entered while they still clung to each other.

“I assume Mrs. Warren accepted your proposal,” Bella said cautiously.

“And I assume you wish my lady as your new sister?” Carter countered.

Bella smiled largely. “Decidedly so. Now straighten your appearances before Lord Charleton and the baron join us. I believe the gentlemen are negotiating in your names.”

I
t had been the four longest months of his life. From his mid-September proposal to her mid-October departure for Lancashire, Carter had floated through the days. He had escorted his betrothed on picnics, riding through the park, outings to museums, exhibitions, and lectures, as well as the “required” appearances at the theatre, balls, and musicales. With each, Carter had stolen kisses, claiming he required a supply of memories to bolster his spirits in Lucinda’s absence.

He had purposely taken additional liberties to acquaint Lucinda with the feel of his body near hers–to build her trust in him, but never once had Carter placed her in a situation where Lucinda might question his motives. He had come to realize how Captain Warren had ripped away every layer of self-confidence Lucinda possessed as an appealing woman. It was Carter’s mission to undo the damage.

After her departure, they had written frequently, several times per week. Carter had become accustomed to ending his days with thoughts of her while sitting at the small desk in his suite at the family townhouse.

Ernest Hutton had traveled to London prior to Louisa’s lying in, bringing word of Carter’s oldest sister’s disapproval of his choice of brides, although both Delia and Maria had applauded his actions.

“Ignore Lady McLauren,” Arabella had declared when she learned of Louisa’s vituperation. “Louisa thinks only of titles and connections. I suspect she is more like the baron than any of your siblings.” His sister in marriage wrote her own letter to Lucinda, sharing the townhouse’s study with Carter while Lawrence tended to business. Her pregnancy was quite evident, and as was customary, she had withdrawn from social engagements. His brother meant to return to Blake’s Run at week’s end. “Thankfully, Hutton adores Louisa,
and she is quite attached to Lord McLauren. However, sometimes I wonder if another man of equal or higher rank had proposed first if Louisa might not have accepted the title before the man.”

Carter chuckled lightly. Bella had always n her mind, and she remained a most excellent foil for Louisa’s manipulations. “My oldest sister prefers to laud over us how she is a countess and even outranks Lawrence.”

Arabella sniffed in disbelief. “Even Delia and Maria as viscountesses outrank Lawrence, but my husband remains the head of the family. Delia and Maria understand the social structure, while Louisa attempts to bend it to her own devices. Lady McLauren is shortsighted: A woman carries her husband’s title, not the reverse, as Louisa would like the world to believe.”

Carter wondered what Louisa would do when she discovered his son would outrank hers. Charleton’s title could be traced back some five hundred years, where McLauren’s was only a hundred and fifty years in existence. The future Earl of Charleton would take precedence over Ethan Hutton. In many ways, he viewed the possibility as a satisfying reality. It would also mean Lucinda, as the child’s mother, would hold more sway in Society, even as the wife of a baronet, than would Louisa.

With Bella and Law’s withdrawal and the approaching winter months, Carter settled into a routine. He had made several journeys to Kent to order additional repairs for his estate, in preparation for bringing his wife to Huntingborne in late January. They had chosen 14 January as the date of their joining. At first, Charleton had resisted Carter’s suggestion of Linton Park as the location, but a personal note from Worthing’s father, the Earl of Linworth, had explained the significance of the chapel to Carter and the others, and Charleton had relented.

Finally, the day had arrived, and he waited anxiously for the Charleton coach to appear upon the Linton circle. “You will wear a hole in Lady Linworth’s Persian rug,” Lexford teased. Only the viscount and the marquis had accepted Carter’s invitation to attend his nuptials. The Wellstons were expecting their first child in March, and the Earl of Berwick would not permit his wife to travel, especially across snowy Northumberland roads. Lady Worthing suspected twins could be more the truth, as both Wellston and his lady were twins, but no one knew for certain. Since their marriage, the couple had effectively withdrawn to their estate. Carter had not seen either since Marcus Wellston had recruited his wife’s uncle, Charles Morton, Baron Ashton, to head the
Manchester investigation of the opium rings. That had been some ten months prior. Although Fowler’s son was some five months of age, the Duchess of Thornhill had claimed “weakness” from her delivery, and Brantley Fowler had not attended the nuptials.

“Velvet does not suffer from more than an expanded waistline,” Lady Eleanor had grumbled when she heard the excuse. “My brother is foolish to permit the duchess her pettiness.” None of those in attendance to the conversation responded, but Carter recognized the consensus among his associates: Lady Eleanor spoke earnestly.

“I am unclear as to Swenton’s absence,” Carter admitted. “The baron sent me a message prior to Christmastide saying he had been called to Vienna to tend an ill friend.”

“His mother?” The marquis asked what they all assumed.

Worthing cautioned, “None of us know for certain the woman John regularly visited was his mother.”

Lexford suggested, “Swenton will share when he thinks the time right.” The viscount and Mercy Kimbolt had welcomed a son in December. The birth secured Kimbolt’s title, and the viscount had never been more relaxed.

Carter caught a glimpse of Charleton’s coach through the bare trees. “Finally,” he murmured and turned for the door.

“I suppose the baronet’s betrothed has arrived,” Crowden taunted.

Carter called over his shoulder. “Even you cannot ruin my mood, Crowden.” He heard the women entering the main hall from an adjoining drawing room, but Carter did not slow down. He meant to enjoy Lucinda’s presence on his arm. To inhale her scent. To feel her skin beneath his lips. They would all greet her carriage, but Carter meant to be the first person she saw. When the coach came to a halt, Carter waved off Charleton’s footman to open the door and set the steps.

“Sir Carter!” Simon called in excitement.

He lifted the boy from the carriage and set him upon the ground. “I am pleased to see you,” he said as he ruffled the boy’s tight curls. “You have grown. I expect you to be taller than I.” The words brought a smile to the boy’s lips.

“I have a pony, and Mr. Higgins has taught me to ride.”

Carter caught the child’s shoulder in an encouraging grasp. “Then we must ride together soon.”

He looked up to see Lucinda smiling lovingly upon the scene. Carter’s heart lurched before speeding up to double time. He stood there, transfixed, drinking in her beauty. “Assist your betrothed to the ground,” Worthing whispered with amusement before giving Carter a nudge with his elbow.

Carter stumbled forward and extended his hand. “Mrs. Warren,” he said on a rasp.

“Sir Carter,” she said sweetly. Carter made the mistake of looking into her eyes. Heaven help him. He wished to send everyone, but her, away.

A clearing of Charleton’s throat forced their movement. Carter assisted Lucinda to the ground, placing her hand upon his arm. God! How he had missed the pressure of her palm against his forearm “Welcome, Lord Charleton,” he and Worthing said together.

“Double my pleasure,” he grumbled as he took several stiff steps.

Ladies Worthing and Linworth caught the earl’s arm. “Come in from the cold, my Lord,” Worthing’s mother said cordially. “It has been a most damp summer and now a like winter. I hope the weather changes to sunshine soon.”

Carter permitted the others to precede them. He knew the serene mask upon Lucinda’s countenance hid her passion, as well as her anxiety. “I thought this day would never arrive,” he whispered into Lucinda’s ear.

She blushed, but she tilted her chin upward. “I thought it a dream until I saw you waiting on Uncle’s carriage.”

“This time tomorrow, you will be Lady Lowery, and I will be the happiest of men.”

At ten of the clock, they had spoken their vows before family and friends. Lawrence had stood with Carter, while Lord Charleton had escorted Lucinda to the altar. She was beautiful in a light blue gown of silk–simple but elegant, and the sun for which Lady Linworth searched rose in Lucinda’s eyes–golden flecks of light radiating from deep within her soul. His heart filled with hope and his body with desire. In his need for perfection, Carter often second-guessed his decisions, but not the one to marry Lucinda.

While Doctor Perry read from the Book of Common Prayer, Carter had reflected on how he had been the only one from his unit to have married by
common license–to have waited a reasonable time to marry–to have honored his betrothed with the respect of not anticipating their vows nor had he teased Lucinda with more than several intimate kisses. He would never criticize the others, each of his friends had had his reasons for how he had conducted his courtship, but Carter had always known he would treat the woman, who would be his wife, with deep esteem.

“It is time to depart,” he whispered. They had enjoyed the hospitality the Linworths had extended during the wedding breakfast. “The sky has darkened, and we will likely know snow.” Unlike Law and Bella’s wedding journey, Carter could not be away from London for months. He meant to leisurely escort Lucinda south to spend time at Huntingborne before he returned to his position in London.

“Permit me to speak my farewells to my uncle and Simon. Mr. Watkins has placed my bags upon your coach.” She squeezed Carter’s hand. “I shan’t be long.”

Carter turned first to his mother and the baron. “I will send word when Lady Lowery and I have arrived in Kent.”

His mother kissed Carter’s cheek. “I am so proud of you,” she whispered softly. “No mother could ask for a better son. “

“As am I,” the baron added brusquely. He extended his hand, and Carter willing clasped it. He and the baron would never know comfort in their opinions, but they would know love.

“Thank you, Sir.” He caught his mother’s hand tightly. “Are you to Staffordshire and Field Hall when you depart from here?”

“Your mother will travel on to be with Maria during your sister’s lying in,” the baron explained. “I will return to Blake’s Run with your brother and Lady Hellsman.”

Carter chuckled. “It has been a season of momentous occasions for the Blakehells. First, Louisa presented McLauren with another daughter, followed closely by the appearance of Nicholas and the securing of the barony, and now my marriage to Lucinda. All remaining is Maria’s delivery of Sheffield’s second child.”

His mother sighed wistfully. “We are blessed most assuredly.” A second kiss to her cheek bid the woman who was the family’s rock a farewell.