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Authors: Cari Hislop

Tags: #Romance, #regency romance, #romance story, #cari hislop, #romance and love, #romance novel, #romance stories

BOOK: The Hired Wife
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“I couldn’t
sleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about…”

“My
kisses?”

“No…well yes, I
mean no; it’s a weighty responsibility…”

“Don’t be daft,
how can kissing me be a responsibility?”

“If I don’t
fall in love with you, you may die of loneliness or a broken heart.
I’d feel awful…”

“Rubbish!”
Marshall’s eyebrows nearly met as he scowled at parted lips waiting
to be kissed. “If you find me unbearable, then walk away. Stay for
food or a roof, but don’t for one second think I want you out of
duty. If I wish to demean myself I’ll hire a whore.”

“How can you
compare wifely duty to a whore?”

“Do you think
I’d be satisfied with an obedient heartless slave?”

“No, but…”

“Well then
don’t assume that which you have no right to assume.”

“Shall I
apologise for being concerned for your feelings my Lord?”

Marshall’s
angry frown slid into a smile as he shook with silent laughter,
“You couldn’t stay five minutes out of duty Merry Dunne; you have
no notion of obedience.”

“Yes I do! I
was a dutiful daughter. I cleaned my father’s house. I washed my
father’s clothes. I cooked my father’s food. I visited his sick
parishioners. I did a hundred hateful chores a thousand times
praying for deliverance, but instead I was orphaned. That’s hardly
deliverance is it?”

“Praying for
deliverance from a noxious life of duty is hardly dutiful.” She was
looking up at him with wide trusting eyes that appeared to be
watching his lips as she waited. She wasn’t afraid of him. He could
feel his internal organs celebrating as his fingers took hold of
her face. “I may be biased in my point of view Lady Raynham, but
you’re looking rather fetchingly delivered to me.” He caressed her
cheek with his thumb and smiled as she stared into his eyes. “Do
you arrange flowers out of duty?”

“No.”

“Do you rise
earlier than I ask out of duty?”

“No.”

“Did you kiss
me this morning out of duty? Well?”

“No.” The word
was so soft he could only see her lips form the word.

“Why do you do
these things Merry?”

“I…”

“The
truth!”

“I enjoy
them.”

Feeling smug he
leaned over and put his hear near her lips as if he hadn’t heard
her. “What did you say?”

“I enjoy them!”
Meeting her eyes, Marshall was deafened by the pounding of his
heart as warm lips accepted his hungry kiss until feminine fingers
hovered over his chest pulling him into deep water submerging him
in a sensual silence.


Neither heard
the door knocker or the footman rudely shoved aside by two
aristocratic visitors. “If you’ll wait here my Lord, my Lady I’ll
enquire…”

Lord Morley and
his mother entered at will. Lady Catherine Fitzalan poked the
footman in the stomach with her cane. “Inform the young ladies
we’ve come to collect them. Hurry up man. I won’t have a measly
footman ruining my outing. Go!”

“Please allow
me to inform his Lordship…ouch!”

Rubbing his
head the footman fled upstairs hoping the young ladies would be
down in time to avert the master’s displeasure as the old woman
lowered her cane and cocked her head. “What is making that
disgusting sound? It sounds like people kissing.” The old woman
tapped towards the parlour with her son at her heels. “Heaven
preserve us!” Lady Catherine peered at the kissing couple through
her lorgnette in disgust. “I haven’t seen such a disgusting display
since serving Queen Charlotte. The King used to spend hours making
love to his wife in front of the court as if they were alone. It
was all one could do to keep down one’s dinner. That was before he
started barking, swearing and chewing up the carpets. I always knew
this foolish love nonsense was linked to madness. I hope you know I
never once kissed your father.”

Marshall was
rudely severed from a passionate kiss as his wife jerked in horror
towards the door before hiding her red face in his shoulder. The
two people in the doorway were both ogling Marshal as if he were an
exotic animal on display. “What the blazes are you doing in my
house? Blast! What did they say Merry?”

“Lady Morley
has come for your sisters; she’s organised a picnic at
Chelsea.”

“No one
mentioned a picnic to me.” Marshall watched his school friend
saunter over to him with all the grace of a barn cat on the trail
of a mouse.

“Didn’t Aunt
Beatrice invite you? I didn’t know of the planned amusement until I
was roused from my bed and commanded to dress. The horrors of being
a bachelor…I see you’ve discovered one of the delights of
husbandry.” Lord Morley caught Mary’s wary glance and smiled as he
lowered his voice to a whisper only she would hear, “An enchanting
performance my dear. Play it right and Lord Beast will be eating of
your bejewelled hand.”

“Stop
whispering at my wife!”

“I merely said
your kisses have transformed her. She looks almost fetching with
her lips rouged from your excessive admiration. I’m almost tempted
to see if she tastes as sweet as…”

“Touch my wife
and I’ll kill you.”

“Those which
are jealous, most part, if they be not otherwise relieved, proceed
from suspicion to hatred, from hatred to frenzy, madness, injury,
murder, and despair.”

“Don’t start
quoting Burton at me or I’ll pummel your sneering lips.”

“She sets you
all afire with her voice, her hand, her walk…”

“I didn’t give
you permission to enter my house, go away I’m kissing my wife.”

“Mother is
unaccustomed to waiting.”

The old woman
tapped her cane against the floor, “I can’t abide waiting, where
are those two brats? I told them to be ready.”

“Beautiful
young ladies will and must take time to reassure themselves they
are fit to enslave any casual pedestrian. Are you coming with us
Marshall or staying home to waste away the afternoon ‘on’ your
wife?”

“It’s none of
your business what I do with my afternoon.”

“You needn’t
shout Marshall; I’m ten inches away not ten miles.” Marshal was
oblivious to the approaching storm as the two sisters raced down
the stairs with screams of delight. “I hope we have a peaceful
journey this morning. Buckingham is no doubt camped out along Kings
Road looking out for my carriage waiting to kidnap your sisters. He
begged to be included in the company, but I told him mother was
serving rabbit crêpes and that I didn’t think it faire on the other
guests. When he asked me how his presence had any relevance to the
menu I told him he looked like a skinned rabbit. I swear the man
hopped away with tears in his eyes. Oh here they are, the beauteous
Godfrey sisters. Come here and let me kiss your cheeks. You should
have worn the same dress in case Buckingham shows up. The lunatic
probably doesn’t know which one of you he loves.”

“Buckingham’s
coming? You should have told us. I’d have worn my blue and white
striped dress.”

“I’d have worn
it, it doesn’t fit you Emily. You’re getting fat.”

“I am not you
horrid cow. At least our brother appears to be happy this
morning…”

Mary tried to
step out of her husband’s arms, but found herself held even
tighter. Morley’s lies were churning her stomach. The man was
giving her a knowing smile as if they shared a lurid secret. He
finally looked away towards the twins, “Perhaps one of you two
lovely ladies can persuade your brother to leave his bed behind and
come with us. He won’t listen to me.”

Emily’s eyes
lit up. “Do come Marshall; we’re going to play games and eat
ourselves sick.”

“I hate games
and sharing my food with ants.”

“Oh Marshall,
don’t be such a stick in the mud…” Alyce poked him in the ribs.
“…if you must kiss Mary all day you can hide behind her
parasol.”

“I’m not some
green youth desperate to make a public exhibition of myself.”

“It’s useless
Henry; Marshall never does anything exciting, he’s boring.” Alyce
said the words in her brother’s face so he would hear. “I don’t
know how Mary can stand you. I’d have poisoned myself after
twenty-four hours of doing nothing. Henry says you were always old
and boring.”

“Count your
blessings Alyce; I’m just your brother-guardian who has every hope
of throwing you into the arms of some wretch too besotted to
realise you’re a hussy.”

Henry pressed a
benign expression into Marshall’s face, “You’ve been old since you
were born. The most exciting thing you’ve ever done was advertise
for a wife in the papers, a move I fear you’ll someday regret.”

“It’s none of
your business if I regret hiring my wife and if I’m so boring, why
do you spend time in my company? Could it be you’re boring?”

“Everyone has
dull moments Marshall, but I’ve never been a bore. I live to taste
all the pleasures life has to offer. I’m afraid your tongue is so
parched you’d drink anything, even muddy water.” Henry gave a
slight glance at Mary’s breasts and waited for the explosion.

Marshall’s eyes
narrowed the veiled insult and hissed, “Leave before I pummel
you.”

“To fall back
on violence when losing a debate is a sure sign of mental
impotence. You must be getting old before your time.”

Lady Catherine
tapped her cane on the floor to get the room’s attention, “I’m
leaving. If you’re coming to my picnic get in my carriage,
otherwise stay here and bore yourselves to death. I plan to live
before I die.”

“What did she
say?”

“If people
don’t get in the carriage she’s leaving them behind.”

“Good riddance!
When are they coming back?”

“Lord Morley
says they’ll be back before dark.”

“That should
give me a few hours of peace. Try to act like ladies, keep your
hats on and don’t wander off with Henry, he’s a rakehell.”

“Marshall would
know.”

“Oh Alyce; you
know Marshall isn’t anything like Henry. What’s wrong with you?
You’re turning into a shrew.”

“Marshall’s a
boring old bag of wind and you know it.”

“I hope Mary
doesn’t tell him what you just said, it would hurt his feelings.
You know he’s sensitive. Why must you be such a cow?”

“I’m a realist.
If you wish to live in a fantasy world that’s your affaire…”

Mary listened
to the conversation and wisely chose not to repeat it. She could
only hope Lord Buckingham was intelligent enough to choose the kind
Emily. As the front door closed on the noise outside Mary glanced
up at her husband still holding her in a vice like embrace. “Merry,
do you think I’m boring?”

“Ask me in
three months.”

“That is an
impertinent attempt to skirt the question.”

“It’s a
reasonable answer considering the circumstances.”

“Humph…have I
bored you at any time over the last few days?”

“No.”

“Hmmm…at least
you haven’t poisoned yourself yet. It must be a trial, being the
wife of a boring deaf man.”

“My husband
isn’t deaf, he’s hard of hearing.” Marshall planted a grateful kiss
on her forehead and reluctantly released his captive. Tugging on
his waistcoat he failed to banish the sensation of her hands on his
chest. “Is there anything you need me to do?”

“No!” The angry
lie echoed off the windows as Marshall tried not to think of
carrying her up to bed. “Merry…just go back to bed.”

“But I…”

“Allow me a
mirage of obedience.”

“I need to
finish my flowers.”

“Very well,
finish your flowers and then off to bed. And I forbid you to lay
awake worrying about my feelings. Is there anything I can do for
you?”

“Might I have
some money; there are a few things I’d like to purchase.”

Marshall’s
pleasant smile slid into a scowl as imagined his bride purchasing a
ticket and disappearing on the next mail coach. “Absolutely
not!”

Mary put her
hands on her hips, “You said I’d have a monthly allowance; besides
I just want to buy some ceramic candlesticks and a few…”

“What do you
want with ceramic candlesticks? I must own fifty silver
candlesticks.”

“I know, but
this house needs…”

“It doesn’t
need any more candlesticks.”

“It needs
personal items. A pair of old ceramic candlesticks and a few
porcelain figurines would help it look less like rented
accommodation.”

“Humph…what
colour?”

“Pink.”

“I won’t have
my house cluttered with sickly sweet shepherds.”

“It’s what you
hired me to do.”

Marshall
reached out and caressed her neck. Was she tipping her head back in
hope? Did he dare kiss her again? “I don’t remember including a
passion for sickly ceramic figurines in my advertisement.”

“Wives are
obliged to spend money on pretty clutter.”

“I’ve never
heard of that rule.”

“You’ve never
had a wife.” Mary held her breath as Marshall’s smile inched
closer. Marshall kissed her cheek and then whispered loudly in her
ear, “I’d best go find some ceramic clutter ere my wife thinks me
parsimonious as well as boring.” Marshall could barely see past the
temptation of wide expectant eyes and parted lips. He withdrew his
hands and planted them firmly against his sides. “Now finish your
flowers and go back to bed Mrs Godfrey. That’s an order.”

Mary bravely
curtseyed on trembling legs as burning sapphires singed her heart.
It was foolishness. She couldn’t be in love with a man she’d known
for less than three days. She’d wait three months and only then
would she examine her heart. Mary turned back to her flowers and
absently trimmed each stem and shoved them into the vase. Either
way she was bound to suffer. If she lost her heart she’d endure
unrequited love, but if she kept her heart she was honour bound to
abandon kindness and kisses for cold solitude. Her pillow called as
her eyes filled with tears. She told herself she was tired as she
closed her bedchamber door, but fatigue had never made her cry. She
didn’t want to explore the cause of the new feelings. She pushed it
away to a safe distance; she’d probably wake up to find her
husband’s kisses all been a pleasant dream. Marshall Godfrey, the
Viscount Raynham hadn’t looked at her with adoring eyes. He hadn’t
kissed her with longing. He wasn’t going fall in love with her.

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