The Seduction of His Wife (6 page)

The thought of the bedchamber made him think about tumbling his wife in the drive. He needed to gather his wits and cool his ardor until a more opportune time arose. He’d definitely been without a woman for too long if this was the only direction his thoughts seemed to lead him in. Though he couldn’t help but wonder what she wore under all those pleated layers of white muslin.

“My sister—”

“Is she staying on?” He wondered which one.

“We all stay in the same wing. We’ve made arrangements for the remainder of the season to find Abby a suitable husband.”

All three Hallaway sisters. He should have them cleared out. Abby was a wily little thing, while Grace always found trouble for herself. Though he supposed they might have changed over the years.

“They will be comfortable in other rooms.” Rancor tilted her words. This was not an auspicious start to their reunion if he’d already managed to anger her.

“I will have tea and a light repast prepared for you in the study. I assume you remember the way?”

“I do,” he answered.

She’d grown more confident over the years. Or maybe it was the fact that she could look him in the eye without blushing and stammering childish nonsense. Time changed a lot of things. She was no longer the child bride he’d married but a full-fledged woman. A woman he could appreciate like a finely aged wine.

Had he been a different kind of man, he might have stayed on and lived up to his father’s every expectation all those years ago. Maybe even made a good husband. The fact of the matter remained—he had not been a different man. Nor a
good
one, for that matter.

She looked at him for a long moment, as though undressing him where he stood. Richard crossed his arms over his chest and studied her in kind. Fascinating that his wife would assess him so blatantly. Before he could comment on her regard, she spun on her heel, her skirts twirling like a ballerina’s before the heavy pleats settled around her legs.

Nothing more could be said between them. Not with all the servants standing on the limestone drive, curiosity and confusion coloring their expressions.

“Back to work,” he ordered. Everyone took his cue and scurried off.

“You’ll have to tell me why you’ve avoided that fine woman all these years.”

He stared at Dante. “None of your business, my friend. I’ll worry about my wife. You worry about watching my back until the ugly mess we left behind stays behind.”

“I’ve known you for eight years, and you’ve never mentioned her.”

“We’ve been married for more years than you’ve known me.”

“Long time to stay away from a wife.” Dante rubbed at his jaw. “Is she a veritable shrew?”

“More like a child I had nothing in common with.” He shook his head, not wishing to dissect his marriage with anyone.

“Definitely not a child anymore.” Dante chuckled and pushed his foot off the carriage to follow him into the house. “I hope she’s stocked something stronger than tea in the study. It’s been a long day.”

Richard also hoped there was something stronger than tea to drink. He’d need something fortifying before facing his wife again.

Chapter 6

Why did you agree to marry me? For the life of me, I can make no sense of it.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Emma put her hand to her chest and took a deep breath. That hadn’t been as horrible as she had thought. When Brown had come out to say there was a nondescript carriage coming over the river, one without an emblem emblazoned on the side to identify the person within, she’d known without a doubt it was her husband.

She had watched from the window while the staff had lined up. Then Richard had stepped from the carriage, squinting at the sun before donning his hat. Directly behind him was another man. His shoulders were twice the width of her husband’s, his height just as great. He was darker-skinned, and not in the sense that he spent a lot of time in the sun. She would guess him to be of Spanish or Italian decent.

She’d only given the other man a once-over. Her attention had been drawn immediately to Richard. What a formidable man he was. A foreign desire for something she didn’t understand had unfurled in her lower stomach at the sight of him standing in the drive with a smug grin lighting his expression. Then she remembered how he’d treated her in London and squashed the unwelcome feelings.

He’d not get the better of her in her own domain.

She tipped her head back, the rim of her hat folded into her neck as she rested her head against the wall. How would she deal with all these conflicting feelings for a man she hardly knew? She had this desire to seek him out, find out why he’d come home. She wanted to learn everything she could of the man who had avoided her for so many years. On the other hand, she wanted to rage and scream at him for his thoughtlessness. Tell him he couldn’t walk back into her life and demand whatever he pleased of her.

Not now. Not when everything with Waverly rested so uneasily. She’d also have to be more careful about her paintings with Richard home. He could never know the true nature of her art. She’d have to sneak around in the middle of the night, or early mornings, to paint her more erotic scenes.

Everything could be ruined by Richard’s return.

Footsteps approached the front door. She made a quick decision to avoid Richard for the remainder of the afternoon and made her way out to the gardens, where her sisters sat in the shade of a great oak. On seeing her expression, they came to their feet. Grace had taken her hat off and swung it back and forth by the pink satin ribbon. Abby twirled a plucked daisy between her fingers.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” asked Abby.

She nodded, looking at Abby. “Come, we must find you new accommodations. Someone travels with him and that gentleman will reside in the room I assigned you.”

“Why ever would you do such a thing? I love that room. It overlooks the mazes.”

Because she hadn’t thought to speak up on her sister’s behalf. Instead she had held her tongue. She’d do as her husband pleased for the time being. Surely he wouldn’t remain long.

“I had no choice in the matter,” she said.

“You can stay with me,” Grace chimed in.

“Absolutely not. We’ll be bickering and ready to tear out each other’s hair after a day.” Abby turned back to Emma. “And I suppose I can’t spend the night with you. Not now that your husband is here.”

“No, you can’t. I hardly believe this is happening.” She shook her head and twisted her fingers together. “While he’s in the study, we should oversee the room changes.”

Abby leaned down to pick up her book. “I do hope he lets us stay on. I was looking forward to spending the summer with just the three of us.”

“I see no reason for him to say otherwise.”

Emma hoped he wouldn’t send her sisters away. She didn’t think she could stay in this house with him alone for company. She needed the support of her sisters. They’d help distract Richard if Waverly decided to make another appearance. It felt like her control over her world was tumbling down around her.

“Besides,” Grace said, “I’m sure he’ll let us spend at least a few weeks here. If he does ask us to leave, there is no reason for you not to join me at Winston Estate, Abby.”

“That wouldn’t be the three of us.” Abby sighed.

They walked with their arms linked back up to the house. The study and adjoining library overlooked the gardens. Her husband stood in the window, watching them amble up the steps as the other man talked animatedly with his hands.

Richard’s gaze was solely focused on her as she made her way up the path. That small something in her lower belly turned into a greater feeling. Goodness, she’d never had her wits about her when that man was around. His presence had always unsettled her.

Tearing her gaze away from Richard’s, she headed indoors. How strange to have him here after so many years. How strange to still want something more from him even after he’d abandoned her without a care.

She could not forget the reason he was here, though. He thought her an unfaithful wife. To accuse her of something so disgraceful set her teeth on edge.

*   *   *

It was safe to say his wife was not happy to see him.

“Two sisters. You didn’t tell me there were so many staying here. Perhaps this wasn’t the best place to come.”

“I didn’t realize they were staying on.”

Dante put his shoulder to the wall. “One of the sisters was sitting in the carriage outside of Madam Purforry’s.”

That was an interesting fact. The madam hadn’t been able to enlighten him on who his wife was set to meet. If Emma had been there for an assignation, why would one of the sisters wait for her outside?

“No sense in worrying about their presence since we can’t change it. It’s unlikely anyone will come here looking for me. This is as safe a place as any. I’m sure your hide will be in as much danger as mine as the weeks unfold and the business is taken apart and sold off.”

“No doubt. But you should do both of us a favor and send the other women away.”

“My wife would not welcome the idea, and may decide to leave with them. I’ll not tolerate that.” This newfound possessiveness was rearing its ugly head when he least expected it.

“It’ll be safer for her if she goes elsewhere. Safer for the three of them.”

Walking over to the sideboard, Richard poured out two fingers of whiskey for them both. “I can look out for the welfare of my wife.” The idea of sending Emma away irritated him. He wanted her close. “We both know this will settle down in a few weeks. A month at most. People will be after the next man who deals in opium and altogether forget our involvement.”

Sitting behind the desk, he set his glass down and riffled through the drawers. There were stacks of old letters—business correspondence of his late father, he assumed. When Dante made to sit across from him, he stopped shuffling through the papers and looked up.

“Aren’t you going to explore the house? There are more entrances and passageways here than I could name offhand. You may want to learn your way around.”

“While we agreed that I’m better trained to handle any mercenaries, that does not make me your servant.”

“I’ll not spend my every waking moment in your company. I’ve had enough of it this week.”

Dante let loose a deep chuckle. “Then I will find my way to my own room.”

He stood slowly, glancing over to the glass-paned doors that led outdoors and the paneled wall with a brass latch that opened into the library, and then walked toward the entry they’d come through.

The only thing Richard wanted right now was some peace and quiet. A few hours to himself. They were safe enough. “If you follow the women’s twittering, you should find your room without issue.”

Dante inclined his head, then left.

Richard knew Dante was right. He should send the sisters away. He just couldn’t bring himself to tell his wife to do so. She probably needed their comfort now that he’d reappeared.

He never expected her to welcome him with open arms. Not after his long absence. That would have to change. It wasn’t as though he was going anywhere anytime soon. He’d have to learn to behave around her or she would never warm toward him.

The papers in his hand were twined together in tidy two-inch stacks with his father’s bold handwriting on them. If he wasn’t mistaken, they were letters written to his father’s solicitor. There was a smaller stack of unaddressed lavender envelopes. His wife’s, in all likelihood, and he’d not invade her privacy, though he wondered why they were in here with his father’s things. He placed the feminine envelopes in the drawer and released the string holding his father’s correspondence together.

He’d not remain idle while in Bakewell. He could sort through his father’s effects and settle into his role as earl. How strange it felt to be leaving his old life behind. Did things inevitably change after a close dance with death? Or was this path of taking the straight and easy bound to happen as one aged?

*   *   *

Dante Lioni did exactly as Asbury suggested. He followed the voices of the women once he’d familiarized himself with the layout of the house. He hadn’t expected a house quite so large as this one. It was as big as—if not slightly larger than—his estate just outside Milan. It took him a good twenty minutes to find the wing they would be taking chambers in.

Three sisters.

Asbury had a pretty wife; her hair was fair, as was one of the others, only hers held a slight tinge of red to it and she was smaller, shorter, thinner, and possibly younger than the other two. The third sister was darker in coloring, her hair a rich brown and lush with loose curls.

He wondered which one was the widow. He’d bet his life on the plump brunette.

A woman that pretty, that soft and feminine, couldn’t stay out of the marriage market long. She was more desirable than the other two. Her breasts strained against the striped material wrapped about her. A button had loosened, third one down from her elegant neck. He couldn’t see anything beneath but more white fabric. Her generous hips could not be hidden beneath all those frills and pleats on her skirts.

She stopped in the double doorway and told the maid in a soft voice what to do with the effects she held. When the maid took them, she rubbed her hand over the back of her neck. He scrubbed his hand over his hair-roughened jaw. He needed to shave; he must look frightening, like a half savage to a woman of her standing.

When the maid left to do her bidding, the brunette raised her eyes and stared directly at him. He tried to smile so he didn’t seem as threatening, but for a man his size that was nearly impossible.

She didn’t smile at him. Just returned his stare, dropped the hand that had been massaging the back of her neck, and took a small step back so she leaned against the door frame. She sucked in her lower lip. Her gaze never strayed from his eyes.

He should introduce himself. It was on the tip of his tongue, but didn’t make it farther when she gave him an interested once-over from crotch to shoulder and then met his eyes again.

Yes, this one was certainly the widow. Hopefully of the lusty variety. He grinned and watched her sea-green eyes go wide. Perhaps she hadn’t meant to look him over so thoroughly and pointedly. Now he wished she’d do it again, so she could see his definite interest below the waist.