A Scandalous Past (Regency Romance, Book 4) (26 page)

She wriggled away, trying to escape him,
however she was laughing too hard to do so. Although Brendan had
only meant to run his hands over her backside and tickle her, the
number of healed scars all across her back stopped him short.

It felt as if the wind had been knocked out
of him.

“Dear God,” he muttered, tentatively tracing
one of the longer scars with his forefinger.

Her laughter gone, Cordie looked over her
shoulder, panic etched across her brow. “Is it worse than I
thought?”

Brendan glanced briefly at her bottom.
Though he didn’t see any bruising, there appeared to be scars there
too. “Who did this to you?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, scrambling
out of his grasp and covering herself with the counterpane.

Fear flashed in her eyes, and he was certain
his heart stopped. “You know exactly what I mean. You’ve been
injured. Many times.” Some scars were older than others. She hadn’t
acquired them in a carriage accident or something similar. They’d
cover her entire body if that were the case.

Cordie’s gaze dropped to her lap.
“Please.”

“Please what?” he nearly roared, but he
tried to maintain his anger and it came out more as a hiss.
“Sweetheart, who did this to you?” He was going to kill whoever it
was. That anyone would hurt his darling wife, so full of spirit and
life, made his jaw clench and his muscles tense.

She heaved a sigh and shrugged. “My mother’s
always found me to be a bit willful, and…” Her voice trailed
off.

Her mother
? For the love of God! She
was one of the few people he
couldn’t
kill. A man, he could
call out. But a woman? His mother-in-law?  As fury and rage
faded into despair, Brendan hauled his wife back into his arms,
holding her tightly to him. “Cordie my love, no one will ever hurt
you again!” he vowed hoarsely.

Her arms wrapped around his neck and she
kissed his cheek. “Brendan, I’m all right.”

He would see to it that she was better than
all right
the rest of their days. It was good they’d already
decided on Bayhurst Court. He would need time to adjust to this
revelation, and somehow he’d have to find the strength to behave
civilly to Lady Avery. He wasn’t certain how much time that would
take.

***

Cordie struggled to get a brush through her
hair. A bird’s nest was an apt description. This is what happened
when one went to bed with wet hair and participated in vigorous
activities. The memory of those activities, however, was like a
dream come true, so she couldn’t really complain. She could, in the
future, make sure her hair was braided before indulging again. This
was awful, especially without a maid. She winced, trying to
untangle a knot on the side of her head. It was going to take
forever.

The door opened to their room and she looked
over her shoulder, embarrassed when she saw the confused expression
on Brendan’s face.  She must look a mess.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Cordie pursed her lips. “I’m just having a
bit of trouble with my hair, but I’ll be done soon.”

He stepped forward and put out his hand.
“Give me the brush.”

“I can manage on my own.”

“You’re making it worse, love. And I do so
love your hair. I’d hate for you to be bald.  Besides, you
played my valet yesterday, let me play your maid.”

Cordie bit her lip, looking up at him. This
didn’t fall under normal husbands’ duties, did it? She couldn’t
imagine Kelfield doing such a thing for Livvie.

“I have sisters, Cordie. I’ve done this a
time or two.”

She shrugged, but handed over the brush.
“Just be careful and don’t tug too rough.”

Brendan started with one side, and very
gently, with the precision of a lady’s maid, untangled her hair.
Her silky strands fell against her neck, and he moved to the back.
“Rose loves to have her hair brushed. She’ll probably ask you to do
it for her.”

“She’ll like me, won’t she?” Cordie asked,
suddenly worried how his family would view her.

“She’ll love you,” he promised, moving the
brush through her tresses with much greater ease than she had
done.  “Probably too much. If she makes you uncomfortable,
you’ll have to let me know.”

Cordie couldn’t imagine the stunning girl
she’d only seen from afar could make her uncomfortable. Besides,
she was Brendan’s sister. They’d have to find a way to make
everything work. From what he’d said about Lady Rosamund, she’d be
in their care until the end of time.

Brendan finally finished with all the
tangles, and then pressed his lips to her cheek. “Apparently I’ll
have to be more careful with you in the future.”

“Don’t you dare.” Cordie grinned. She didn’t
want him to be careful. She didn’t want any less than what he’d
given her the night before. His warm breath against her cheek sent
delightful shivers racing across her skin as the memory of their
wedding night flashed again in her mind.

Brendan chuckled. “My adventurous wife.”

She stood from her seat and lightly touched
her lips to his. “Hmm.”

His arms wrapped around her waist. “Are you
ready, love? Wilson has the coach prepared.”

Cordie shook her head. “In a minute. Let me
just put my hair up.”

He took a handful of her hair and brought it
to his nose. “Leave it unbound.”

Her cheeks warmed, but she nodded
anyway.

As they left the little inn, Cordie’s heart
leapt. As peaceful and idyllic as she found Scotland, she was
anxious to see her new home. Her new family. She climbed inside the
coach with Brendan right on her heels. He pulled her onto his lap
and nuzzled her neck, making her giggle.

Cradled in her husband’s arms, Cordie had
never felt so loved or so safe. She was still unsure how things had
turned out so well for her, though she didn’t want to question her
good fortune. She just wanted to enjoy it.

“Sweetheart,” he said, “we really should
have a talk.”

Cordie tipped her head back to see him, as
uneasiness spread through her. Why did they need to have a talk?
Everything seemed so perfect. “What about?”

“One of the things I most love about you is
your adventurous spirit, but… Well, you’re my wife now.”

She pursed her lips. “And you want to make
me a prisoner.”

“You have quite a way of looking at things,”
he answered with a frown. “I only want to keep you safe.”

“I am perfectly capable of making my own
decisions,” she said, scrambling off his lap.

His arms tightened around her and he pulled
her back. “Don’t run away from me.”

“Let me go!”

“Not until you listen to me.” Then he kissed
her temple and softened his voice. “Back in London, you nearly
stopped my heart on more than one occasion. You recklessly went
about Town with no concern for your safety, and I can’t allow that.
If something happened to you…”

Cordie folded her arms across her chest and
glared at him. She was not reckless… Well, not most of the
time. 

He cleared his throat. “We’re lucky no one
else knows of your antics. If they did, your reputation would not
be salvageable.”

He sounded just like her mother. Cordie
shook her head. “I don’t care what people think, Brendan. I’m not
going to live my life afraid of what others might think of me. Just
so you know, I intend to resume my friendship with the Duchess of
Kelfield, and there’s not a thing you can do to stop me. Olivia is
my oldest and dearest friend, and I’m not willing to give her
up.”

Brendan gaped at his wife. What was that
about? He didn’t care if she was friends with the Duchess of
Kelfield. The girl was Robert and Caroline’s cousin, after all.
He’d insist Cordie stay away from the
Duke
of Kelfield’s
friends—the Marquess of Haversham, in particular—but he didn’t mind
the duchess at all.

“All right,” he said cautiously. Who knew
what might set her off, and he was intent on calming her. 
They had a long ride ahead of them, and he’d rather not spend it
arguing.

Cordie narrowed her green eyes on him. “All
right? That’s all you have to say?”

What was he
supposed
to say? What was
she expecting? “I don’t have a problem with Her Grace. Some of
Kelfield’s compatriots are a different matter, but I’ve always
found the duchess to be a generous lady.”

Whatever retort his wife had planned for him
died on her tongue. Then she sagged against him. “You don’t care if
I’m friends with Livvie?”

“Not if you don’t care that I’m friends with
Astwick.”

A laugh escaped Cordie’s throat.

“You laugh. He’s quite irritating.” Was she
worried about the Duchess of Kelfield all along? He wished she’d
have said something. He could have put her mind at ease weeks ago.
“Cordie, why would you think I’d keep you from your friends?”

She swallowed, then closed her eyes as if
she was in pain. “Mother wouldn’t let me see her after she married
Kelfield, and ever since I’ve been all alone. Not completely. I
mean, Phoebe has been a wonderful friend and I’m thrilled Tristan
and Russell have returned from France unscathed. But…” She heaved a
sigh. “I’ve known Livvie since before we could walk. She’s always
been in my life and I in hers. It’s been an awful strain. I felt as
if my heart had been ripped out of my chest.”

“My love, I am
not
your mother,” he
said, the memories of his wife’s scars fresh in his mind making his
words harsher than he would have liked.

“Well, Captain Seaton was adamant I wouldn’t
maintain our friendship either.”

Who the devil was that? “Captain
Seaton?”

“He was my fiancé.”

Brendan’s body tightened and his mouth fell
open. “Fiancé?” Why was this the first he was hearing about Captain
Seaton, for God’s sake?

“Well, not anymore,” she quickly
clarified.

“I should say not.” She was
his
wife
after all. “Can I expect to be called out in the same fashion as
Kelfield?” He wasn’t sure he’d ever get that image out of his mind.
Both Major Moore and the duke were emotional disasters over the
duchess.

Cordie shook her head. “Not the same thing.
Technically, we were never engaged. I determined what sort of
dictatorial husband he intended to be before our plans were
finalized, and I cried off. He never even spoke with Gregory on the
matter.”  

A moment of clarity engulfed Brendan. All of
this was why she’d fought so hard to keep herself from him. The
quandary she’d spoken of. She’d loved him, but was afraid he’d
treat her the way her mother did and Captain Seaton would have.
What a fool the captain was to have lost her, a mistake Brendan
wouldn’t make. 

He caressed his wife’s cheek. “If you want
to resume your friendship with Her Grace, you have my blessing. You
have my name, Cordie. If an association with us helps the duchess
in society, I’m more than willing to give it.”

“You are?” she asked, looking hopefully into
his eyes.

Did she think he was an ogre? “Cordie, I
dashed from Bayhurst Court when Caroline Staveley summoned me for
her rather impromptu ball in honor of the Kelfields. If I didn’t
shy away then, why would I do so now?”

“I hadn’t thought of it like that,” she
said. Then she shook her head. “But you said you didn’t have a
choice. I remember, because at the time I thought it was a rather
unkind thing to say in front of Livvie.”

Brendan rested his head against the leather
squabs. “‘Your stodgy presence is required to lend Livvie an air of
respectability.’ Those were the words my dear friend Caroline
Staveley used to beg me to Town. My irritation that evening was
directed at her, not your friend.”

“Oh,” his wife said softly. 

“She’s a good friend?” he asked, glad his
wife didn’t seem angry with him anymore.

“Very.”

“I’m sorry you were kept from her.” He
kissed the top of her head. “I love you, Cordie. I would never do
that to you.”

“Thank you.” Then she smiled shyly at him.
“I’ll try to be a dutiful wife.”

She would
try
to be a dutiful wife.
Brendan bit back a smile. As far as concessions went, it wasn’t
much. But where Cordie Clayworth was concerned, it was an enormous
coup.  “I’m a very lucky man.”

“Are you?” she asked quietly.

“Hmm,” he answered, winking at his bride.
“The first time I met you, I wanted to kiss every inch of you. And
now I can do so whenever I want.”
           
She laughed and pushed away from him. “Lady Staveley’s ball was
not
the first time you met me.”

She had said they’d met before, hadn’t she?
He’d somehow forgotten that. “When did I first meet you then?”

“At your wedding breakfast. Eleanor was
Marina’s maid of honor. We were all there.”

His eyes widened. That was
thirteen
years ago. No wonder he didn’t remember her. “Good God, Cordie, how
old were you?”

“Seven. And I remember thinking at the time
that you reminded me of a golden haired fairy tale prince.”

Seven
? Brendan winced. He’d robbed
the cradle. Literally. “I’d prefer to think we met at Staveley’s,
if you don’t mind.”

“You don’t want to think about Marina’s
connection to my family,” she said understandingly.

Marina’s connection to the Averys. If she
hadn’t been close to them, if she hadn’t given them his mother’s
damning letters, he’d have never pursued Cordie. In a strange way
of thinking, it was the only gift Marina had ever given him.
Brendan shook his head. “No, I’d just prefer not to think that my
bride was
seven
when I married the first time. It makes me
feel old.”

She laughed.

He loved her laugh. The way she sounded so
carefree and lighthearted was like a balm for his soul. He would
never tire of the sound. Still she was laughing at
him
. “Oh,
don’t think I’ve forgotten, my darling wife. I know very well that
you think I’m old and stodgy.”