Read With His Ring (Brides of Bath Book 2) Online
Authors: Cheryl Bolen
Tags: #romance, #historical, #regency, #regency romance, #georgian, #english historical, #regency era, #romance historical, #romance adult, #english romance
Her eyes shone as she watched him. "You must
allow me to tell you what I've had Cook prepare for our dinner.
There's to be a magnificent roast beef, stewed eels, plum pudding,
buttered lobster and many vegetables, though I know you're not
overly fond of vegetables."
"With all of my favorite foods, I shan't
have to eat any of the vegetables. It sounds like a very good meal,
indeed. I must commend you on your household management. You're
doing a fine job." If only he knew what she had done with the
blasted earrings.
"I daresay there's room for improvement. By
the way, dearest, did you see Archie today?" she asked.
A grim line settled on his lips. "I did. I
saw his mother, too. She's barely older than you, and she's skinny
like him. I have reason to believe she prefers gin to eating."
Glee winced. "Her poor son."
"The thing of it is, I don't know how I can
help them."
"The crowns you pay him are of some help,"
she consoled.
"Yes, the lad told me he makes more in a
single day than his mother earns in a month."
"That's terrible, but you must console
yourself that people of that class do know how to economize, to get
their money to last."
"But," he said, "people who live for their
gin are a different breed altogether. It's my understanding they're
given to focusing their entire lives on their drink."
"Oh dear."
He tussled her hair. "I'm sure you've no
experience with soakers."
"Only George," she said with resignation.
"Before he married."
Gregory laughed. "Your brother was not a
soaker. He drank to excess when he was young and with friends. A
real soaker is one who drinks with or without friends. One who
has
to drink every day. One who becomes quite ill when not
allowed to drink."
"Oh dear. How does one go about changing a
soaker?"
"There are many who say it cannot be done.
Once a drunk, always a drunk. I understand some of them have the
best of intentions but somehow cannot seem to help themselves."
"We must think of something, Blanks."
He nodded and rose. "We'd best get ready for
dinner."
She stood and tucked her arm into his.
As they climbed the stairs, he asked, "Will
you need help fastening your jewels?"
She stiffened. "Patty can help."
So his wife did not need his assistance, he
reflected bitterly. Was it his presence that repulsed her or her
guilt over the earrings?
* * *
"A very good dinner, my love," Gregory said
to Glee, who sat at the opposite end of the table from him,
candlelight casting shadows on her lovely face. He had scarcely
been able to remove his eyes from her all night. As the light
flickered off her creamy chest and her elegant neck, he found
himself longing to kiss a trail along her milky flesh.
She looked up at him and smiled.
Only a blind man could have failed to notice
how fetching his wife looked tonight. She wore an emerald gown made
of the sheerest silk that hugged the graceful curves of her body.
Her eyes matched the green gown perfectly, as did the family jewels
she wore.
Because of his contentment with Glee, it had
not been difficult to praise her, to toss her lovelorn looks or to
murmur endearments—all for the benefit of her sister, of
course.
In fact, that sister's husband served ably
as a role model for Gregory, for he clearly worshiped his wife.
When the first course was removed, along
with Felicity's untouched eel, Thomas Moreland had lowered his
brows. "Is anything the matter, love? I see you did not eat the
eel."
"Everything's perfect, my sweet," she
answered. "It's so perfect, in fact, that I cannot begin to eat all
of it. I must save room for the buttered lobster. You know what a
particular favorite it is of mine."
Her husband smiled, but his worries
apparently mounted again during the next course. "I declare, my
love," he began, "your color is off. You're so very pale. Are you
feeling quite the thing?"
Felicity tossed back her head and laughed.
"Honestly, Thomas, if you won't stop your wretched worrying over
me, I swear I'll never bear you another child—and I know you want
several."
Gregory's glance swept to Thomas. He wished
to gauge Moreland's reaction. Would the man honestly desire that
his cherished wife go through birthing again? And again? Until he
lost her?
"I know you keep assuring me of your
hardiness, my love, but I do so worry," Thomas said.
There had been a time when Gregory would
have thought it unmanly for a man—especially a big, strapping man
like Moreland—to be so completely besotted over a woman, but now
Gregory was beginning to learn that such deep affection was as a
much part of life as cutting teeth. He'd just seen bloody little of
it in his life.
While a bit too much in love with his wife,
Moreland did make a rather good pattern card for Gregory to copy.
After all, he must convince the Morelands—and Jonathan—of his love
for Glee.
"Did you find anything amusing to do today,
my love?" Gregory asked Glee.
She nodded. "Thanks to your considerate
friends—Timothy and the twins—I was able to go to the Pump Room
this morning."
"Was there a terrible crush there?" he
asked.
"Enough. Felicity signed the book, so I
daresay Winston Hall will be converged upon tomorrow."
"I hope my friends had the good manners to
take you for a turn about the Pump Room?"
"Timothy had the good manners to fetch my
water, but I had to settle for Mr. Jefferson to walk me about the
chamber."
Anger boiled within him. Why would that
scoundrel not leave his wife alone? Was the fiend bent on getting
even with him because of that nasty business with Miss Douglas?
Glee set down her fork and directed a glance
at her husband. "You will be pleased to know all three of your
friends warned me not to become too friendly with Mr. Jefferson.
They said you wouldn't like it above half."
Only with the greatest restraint was Gregory
able to keep his voice from trembling with anger. "They were
correct."
She pushed her turnips about her plate with
a fork and did not meet his gaze. "I daresay Mr. Jefferson's a
bounder, but I fail to see what harm it would do for me to speak to
the man. I declare, it would cause more suspicion were I to cut him
or avoid him entirely."
"You must trust me on this, my dear. I only
want what's best for you." Now he was beginning to sound like the
besotted Thomas Moreland!
"You must listen to your husband on this
matter," Felicity said firmly.
* * *
After dinner Glee and Felicity retired to
the saloon and sat next to one another on a silken sofa.
"You look so lovely, my pet," Felicity said,
covering her sister's hand with her own. "Marriage must agree with
you."
Glee swallowed. "I've never been happier."
In spite of the fact her husband neither loved her nor wanted her,
Glee truly was happy. Being with Blanks every day, greedily
accepting any affection he might choose to cast her way, filled her
with love. Also, she liked being mistress of a house, being married
to a man of means. Most of all, she just liked being with Blanks
day in and day out. Had she the choice, she would not hesitate to
marry him again.
"I confess," Felicity said, "I never thought
anyone could love a man as dearly as I love Thomas, but I believe
you care for dear Blanks in the same way. And I think he loves you
as Thomas loves me."
"That would be my fondest wish, but Blanks
has a great distance to go before he'll love me that much. Don't
forget Thomas loved you, and only you, for the six long years he
was off in India, dreaming of coming home and winning your love.
Then the poor man had to patiently wait another half year before
you finally realized you had fallen in love with him. And now. .
.to tell you the truth, Thomas is quite obnoxious in his
devotion!"
"How dare you say my precious husband is
obnoxious!" Felicity playfully chided. Then she leaned toward Glee
and whispered, "To tell you the truth, I'm just as obnoxious over
him. He's not always the mushy, moon-eyed lover. He's wise and
strong and good-hearted while maintaining the admiration of other,
less powerful men."
"You don't have to convince me. I've seen
him when he's in one of his kingly modes."
"And I've seen a tremendous change come over
Blanks," Felicity said. "I know it's only been two weeks, but he
seems so much more mature."
Being with Blanks every day, Glee had been
unable to detect a change in him, but now that she thought on it,
she realized Felicity was right. He was more mature. Hadn't she
called him an
old stick
any number of times? Marriage truly
had changed him. He backed away from the pranks he would have
heartily endorsed only weeks before. He was taking his
responsibilities with his father's estate quite seriously, even
though it was tedious. And he grew troubled over those who were
less fortunate. She smiled to herself. Blanks was changing. For the
better.
His father, bless his everlasting soul, had
known her beloved Blanks better than Blanks knew himself.
"Marriage does seem to have matured Blanks,"
Glee agreed. "He even assures me he no longer keeps his
mistress."
Color hiked up Felicity's face. "I wish you
wouldn't talk about such matters, but I daresay a pleasured man has
no need to seek another bed." She looked up at Glee and smiled. "So
it must be that you are properly warming your husband's bed,
pet."
"Properly?" Glee said with a sly smile. "I
was hoping it was improperly!"
Felicity smiled into the fan she held over
her blushing face. "I daresay you've changed even more than your
husband."
"Well, I
have
become a woman."
She heard the sound of the door closing and
turned her head to see Blanks enter the saloon and walk toward her,
a smoldering look in his eyes.
"Yes, you have become a woman, my love," he
said as he walked to her and bent to plant a light kiss on the back
of her neck.
A tingle raced down her spine. It was such a
simple little gesture on his part, yet it unraveled her tight
control. She smiled up at him. If this was how he was going to act
in front of her sister, Glee prayed Felicity would come to
Blankenship House several times a day.
The two men sat across from them.
"My sister was just saying how much more
mature you seem," Glee said to Blanks. "You know, Blanks, I believe
your father would be proud of the man you've become."
He stiffened for a second, then his slow
smile came. "Do you think so?"
"Undoubtedly. I, too, am very proud of you,
my dearest." Whether her husband liked it or not, Glee loved to
voice endearments.
Tired from their journey, Felicity and
Thomas did not stay late. After seeing them to the door, Gregory
and Glee mounted the stairs together, hand in hand, as was their
custom.
When they came to Glee's door, she looked up
at him. "Shall we practice my kissing?"
He began to laugh. "It's more fun when it's
unplanned. Spontaneous. You'll have to wait until I'm again struck
by the impulse to kiss you." By Jove, but it was bloody difficult
not to take her in his arms this very minute and crush her to him.
But he had to be careful. Glee's heart was too fragile to toy
with.
He pressed a kiss on top her lovely head.
"Good night, sweet Glee."
"Good night, dearest."
He smiled all the way to his chamber.
Stanley had waited up for him and helped him undress.
Then Gregory collapsed onto his bed. It had
been a tiring day. He was glad Glee had not made plans to leave the
house this evening. That was one thing about the girl who was his
wife. She seemed to have an instinctive knowledge of what he wanted
and what he didn't want. She really was the perfect wife.
He thought of laying a trail of kisses down
her slender neck and to the sweet valley between her breasts. And,
sweet heavens, but he wanted her. He tried to tell himself it was
just that he had been without a woman for too long. Which he
undoubtedly had. It had been three months. He could not remember
ever going that long without a woman. The trouble was, he didn't
want another woman.
He wanted Glee. And he would never take
her.
Chapter 19
As much as she loved her sister, Glee was
glad Felicity was so much in her husband's pocket. For Glee had
most enthusiastically abandoned her former ways and embraced the
notion of being one of the bucks. Making the rounds of the
milliners and mantua makers and linen drapers with her perfectly
feminine sister now seemed as dull as watching grass grow.
'Twas much more fun to accompany Blanks and
his friends, to fly through town on her phaeton and to dress
shockingly at the Pump Room.
Her shiny red phaeton gave her no end of
pleasure. Though it had been her fondest hope to be "the woman in
red," Blanks had forbidden her to wear the shocking red gown when
driving in the equally shocking scarlet phaeton. So today she wore
black. Not the modest dress of one in mourning, but a sensational
one that allowed great expanses of her chalk-white skin to
show.
Driving on the Pulteney Bridge, she came
abreast of Appleton and brought her rig to a stop. "Would you care
to race?" she challenged, shooting a smile at him.
His brows drew together. "Don't think Blanks
would like it above half, Pix."
"La! I allow him complete liberty and he
reciprocates."
Appleton's eyes shifted. "You wouldn't
careen through the streets of Bath?"
"Heavens no! I would never forgive myself if
someone were to get hurt. I was thinking about the road from here
to Winston Hall."
Appleton bit his lip as he nodded. "Very
well."