The Bride's Necklace (17 page)

Every time he looked at Percival Chezwick and saw the lovesick expression on his face, Cord’s resolve to keep his distance from Victoria strengthened.

Over the years, he’d been careful never to let a woman get too close, though a number had tried to sink
their hooks in him. A wife was supposed to know her place—making him happy in bed and running his household. Victoria was adept at both and he intended to see that was as far as it went.

Rafe’s words flickered through his head.
There have been rumors…about your wife and Julian Fox….

Still, perhaps he should pay a bit more attention where his wife was concerned. He made a mental note to do something about it once he and Victoria returned to London.

Cord leaned back against the carriage seat, listening to the spinning of the wheels. Outside the window, cows grazed in the rolling green fields. A hawk swooped down on a ground squirrel in the meadow but flew off empty-handed.

The carriage would arrive in Tunbridge Wells late in the afternoon. It bothered him that Victoria had left only yesterday and already he missed her.

It was lucky he knew the pitfalls to avoid where a woman was concerned.

And he would be interested to see if Julian Fox happened to be on the guest list.

E
vidence of fall had set in, the leaves turning shades of rust and orange and gold. A cool breeze swept over the lush green fields surrounding Parkside Manor, the sprawling stone house Lord Percy had rented for his weeklong sojourn in the country.

“Tory!” Claire raced toward her, arms open, and Tory went into them, giving her sister a hug. “I’m so glad you could come.”

“Thank you for asking us. I must admit it does feel good to be out of the city.”

Claire glanced around the entry. “I thought Cord was coming with you.”

“He couldn’t leave town quite yet, but he said he would be here. I am hoping he won’t change his mind.”

Claire linked arms with Tory. “He had better not. And in the meantime, I will show you around the house and introduce you to the guests.”

Tory smiled and let her sister lead the way. She and Cord had been assigned a large, airy set of rooms at the opposite end of the hall from the master’s suite. There
were two rambling guest wings, each lined with doors that opened into elegantly furnished bedchambers, and the downstairs was impressive.

The house was old, built in Jacobean times, with heavy hand-carved beams and mullioned windows. Added onto over the centuries, the three-story gray stone structure spread out beside a small, tumbling stream.

The place was large and welcoming. As Claire had said, there was no lack of privacy for any of the guests, and the “small” list of visitors included an interesting mix of people, including Percy’s father, the marquess of Kersey; Percy’s brother and sister-in-law, the earl and countess of Louden; Cord’s cousin, Sarah, her husband, Jonathan, and young son, Teddy; and Rafael Saunders, Duke of Sheffield.

Cord arrived late the following afternoon. “Good afternoon, Victoria,” he said, a polite smile on his face.

“Good afternoon, my lord,” she replied with equal courtesy.

“I trust your journey was not overly taxing.”

“Not in the least.”

“The road was a bit muddy, but we made fairly good time, considering.”

Considering what? she wanted to ask, considering he didn’t want to be there, which he was making perfectly clear by his bored but polite attitude. He greeted a few of the guests who wandered into the entry, then Tory led him to their assigned room upstairs. Though they chatted pleasantly, his smile remained bland, his attitude slightly indulgent. The perfect aristocratic husband, Tory thought, and as the day progressed, she found his distant regard more and more annoying.

She was his wife. His lover, for heaven’s sake! Not just some woman who shared his quarters. Tory was determined to do something to shake his cool facade, but in the end, she didn’t have to. The moment he realized Julian Fox was one of the guests, his entire attitude changed.

“I see your friend, Mr. Fox, is in attendance.”

“Why, yes. He is Lord Percy’s cousin, after all.”

Cord didn’t say more, but when she looked up at him, his bland expression was gone, replaced by the subtle hardening of his jaw.

It was a heady thing to realize one’s husband was wildly jealous of another man.

And far too tempting.

More than anything, Tory wanted Cord to love her. She wanted the kind of marriage her father and mother had once had, a loving relationship that encompassed their children.

At least Cord had worked diligently at his duties in that regard. The moment he stepped across the threshold of their bedchamber, his eyes darkened with desire. Sooner or later, Tory was certain, she would find herself with child.

Which would keep her busy and out of his hair, seemingly his greatest desire.

Tory wanted children, of course. She adored them, had always dreamed of having a houseful. But she had hoped to have them with a husband who loved her.

She watched the way his eyes fixed on Julian Fox whenever the man came near. He didn’t like Julian, though she thought the reason had more to do with the friendship she and Julian shared than it did with the man himself.

“I think your husband is jealous,” Julian said as they
stood in the drawing room before supper, purposely leaning over to whisper in her ear. He didn’t seem to care in the least that Cord stared at him with eyes sharp as daggers. If anything, it seemed to make him bolder.

“I have told him that we are merely friends,” Tory said.

“And so we are. Still, I think a little competition is good for him.”

She had never complained about her marriage, but it didn’t take an Oxford scholar to guess that when one’s husband rarely accompanied his wife something must be wrong.

Tory flicked Cord a glance. He was speaking to his friend the duke, but his eyes continually strayed in her direction. When she smiled at something Julian said, his eyebrows drew into a frown.

“It is well known,” Julian continued, “that where women are concerned, the earl of Brant is far too cock-sure of himself.”

She pondered that, knowing it was true. “So you think making him jealous might teach him to appreciate me more?”
Might even make him love me?

“Sometimes a man doesn’t realize what he has until he thinks he might lose it.”

Her mind spun with possibilities. The thought had occurred to her more than once. Perhaps it could actually work. “Are you saying you would be willing to risk the earl’s displeasure in order to help me?”

He smiled, displaying a row of teeth that gleamed like pearls against his dark skin. He was entirely too handsome. She wondered again what had happened in his past that made him avoid most women. Of course, the way they fawned over him, she didn’t really blame him.

“As you say, we are friends. I would be pleased to help in any way I can.” He looked up. “In the meantime, I think we have goaded the tiger enough for the present. I believe I shall take my leave.” Bowing over her hand, he made his exit just as Cord approached.

He walked up beside her, his eyes still fixed on Julian. “You and Mr. Fox seemed to be enjoying yourselves. What did Fox have to say that was so intriguing?”

She shrugged. “Nothing unusual. We spoke of the change in the weather. He mentioned a new play opening at the Haymarket Theatre next week.”

Cord’s gaze followed Julian across the room. “I would prefer you conversed with someone else.”

Her gaze followed his and her defenses went up. “You aren’t saying I should ignore him? I refuse to be rude, Cord. I told you before—Julian and I are merely friends.”

“Yes…that is what you have said.”

They went in to dinner, and though he was charming to the rest of the guests, he said little to Tory. She knew she was playing with fire and yet… She had to take the chance, had to do something to breach the wall he had build around himself where she was concerned.

Like her sister, if she wanted to succeed, she would have to be bold.

Tory looked down the table to where Claire sat to the right of her husband. The gown she had chosen was cut exceedingly low and Percy could barely keep his eyes off her breasts.

Good luck to you, darling,
she thought, then turned to see Cord scowling at Julian, who sat next to Claire, obviously believing it was Julian that she had been watching.

Good luck to both of us.

The hour grew late. Determined to carry through with the plan she and Tory had made, Claire pled a headache and asked Percy to escort her upstairs. He didn’t hesitate.

She was counting on that as they walked into the sitting room of the master’s suite and her husband closed the door.

“I hate to wake Frances,” she said sweetly. “Would you mind unfastening my gown?”

Percy’s expression turned guarded. “Of course.” He did so with a hand that shook only slightly, dispatching the buttons, then taking a step backward when the task was complete.

Claire turned to face him, holding up the front of her gown. “Remember the night you caressed my breasts?”

He swallowed, color rising in his cheeks. “I have not forgot. Nor could I, even should I try.”

She let go of the front of the gown, a pale blue silk with a bodice Frances had altered daringly low, letting it fall open. Percy’s eyes widened as she lowered the straps on her chemise, leaving her bosom exposed to his gaze.

Percy seemed rooted to the floor. “Touching you that way…it is only the first step in making love. That night, I came very close to losing control. If I were to…to touch you that way again, I am afraid of what might happen.”

“I am not afraid, Percy.”

“You’re delicate, Claire. Fragile. I promised I would wait, give you time to get adjusted to the idea of being married. Waiting, where one’s wife is concerned, is not an easy thing for a man to do—particularly when the woman he has wed is as lovely as you. Should we start, I
might not be able to stop. If I should hurt you in some way—”

“I would get over it. All wives submit to their husbands. I wish to submit to you, my lord.”

Percy swallowed, his eyes full of turbulence. “Are you…are you certain, Claire?”

“Yes, my lord.”

Percy took a long, steadying breath. He swallowed so hard, his Adam’s apple went up and down. “We will take this very slowly. If you wish to stop, I shall do my best to—”

“My only wish is for you to make me truly your wife.”

Percy’s light eyes darkened. In the faint glow of the lamp, he looked older, more of a man than the boy he had been when she had first met him. He took her into his arms and kissed her and she began to forget her fears. She wanted this. Wanted it so much.

Percy carefully undressed her, then carried her to his bed. He kissed her and touched her all over, spent hours making certain that she was ready to accept him, hours that filled her with joy and the most marvelous sensations. When his body joined with hers, there was only a moment of pain and then it was gone. Her body burned with heat and a wild sort of need that during the long and wondrous night, Percy filled.

As her sister had said, making love was wonderful.

But then, Tory was nearly always right about everything.

She hoped she was doing the right thing. Subtly flirting with Julian, never openly, of course. She didn’t want to fire any untoward gossip.

Just occasionally, when she saw Cord looking her
way and Julian happened to be near, which he made a point of doing, she would laugh or smile or ply her fan. She’d had little practice at flirting. She hoped she was doing it right but she wasn’t really sure.

As Julian had promised, he cast her smoldering glances and graced her with sensuous smiles.

That night, Cord made very thorough love to her, as if he wished to claim her in some way. She was limp and sated, barely able to move when he finished. Before dawn, he took her again.

Lounging next to her on the bed, he wrapped a lock of her hair around one of his fingers. “I’ve decided to postpone my return until the end of the week. We can ride back to the city together.”

She wanted to shout with glee, jump up and yell in triumph. Instead she kept her reply purposely casual. “Really? I thought you had work to do.”

Cord’s features darkened. “I had hoped you would be pleased.”

Tory smiled, unable to hide her pleasure any longer. “I am very pleased, my lord.”

But she didn’t think Cord was convinced, and she thought that might be good.

Their last few days in the country passed far too quickly. She spent most of her time with her husband, who seemed to enjoy himself almost as much as she did. They laughed together and took long strolls along the little stream that ran beside the manor. One day the entire party went into Tunbridge Wells to enjoy the mineral baths that were said to have healing properties.

“In the last century the place was a favorite of the
ton,
” Cord explained. “It was founded back in 1609 when Lord North discovered the chalybeate springs.”

It was less popular now, but Tory and the others enjoyed themselves. Even Cord.

Then finally it was time to leave.

As she descended the stairs for the return trip to London, she chanced upon Julian in the entry. He looked unbelievably handsome in buckskin breeches and a dark green tailcoat. He winked as she approached, then leaned close.

“I believe our plan has succeeded. I have never seen a man behave more possessively toward his wife.”

“You were wonderful, Julian.” She wanted to give him a grateful kiss on the cheek but did not dare.

Julian inclined his head, turned and smiled as Cord walked up. “I hope you have a pleasant journey home, my lord.”

“Thank you. The ride can be tiring, but I’m sure I can think of a way to entertain my wife along the road.” The hot look he gave her said exactly the plans he had for her—right there in the carriage.

He was sending a message to Julian, a warning of sorts that she belonged to him. She couldn’t help feeling a shot of exhilaration.

“Shall we go?” Cord took her arm and guided her down the front porch stairs. He helped her into his traveling coach and she settled herself on the seat. She couldn’t resist a last glance at Julian, who stood on the porch stairs watching them, a smile on his sensuous lips.

Tory bit back an answering smile that was nearly the exact opposite of the scowl on Cord’s face.

“Enjoying the play, my love?” Cord leaned close and a tremor of awareness shot through Tory. They had been home from the country less than a week. Last
night he had taken her to the opera and tonight they were attending
The Mistral’s Journey,
the play at the Haymarket Theatre that Julian had told her about.

“Yes, very much. And you?”

“I am, indeed.” He traced a finger along her cheek. “But I am enjoying your company far more.”

A little thrill bubbled up inside. Her plan was working! Since their return, Cord had been wonderfully solicitous. They were having a marvelous time, Cord smiling more often, relaxed with her in a way he had never been before. She thought that his affection for her was growing, as she had so hoped it would.

Then a messenger arrived at their door.

“What is it?” Tory asked, walking up beside him in the entry.

He tossed the linkboy a vowel for his service and tore open the wax-sealed message he had received. “News of a mill I’m interested in buying in Lemming Grove. It looks like a marvelous opportunity. I’ve been hoping to purchase the business, improve working conditions and make a few other changes that will help increase profits. If I’m lucky, I’ll be able to sell it for a considerably larger sum.”