Laura Matthews (17 page)

He straightened, surprised. “Are you not enjoying it?”

“Very much,” she admitted shyly.

“I see. You don’t wish to progress to the logical conclusion? You’re still afraid of that?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then we won’t, but there’s no need to stop now.” He stroked her hair for a moment before again kissing her breasts. Then, with an almost casual movement, he lifted her and walked into the bedroom where he laid her on the bed and removed the negligee entirely. It was a moment before he extinguished the candle, and he noted her blush. His voice in the darkness was gentle.

“It’s only me, Olivia. Don’t be embarrassed for your beautiful body.” He climbed into the bed beside her and ran his hands lovingly over her breasts and down to her thighs. “You are a very dear person, with a special dignity of your own. Include your physical charms in that dignity, my treasure, for they’re as much a part of you.”

“My grandmother told me, just before she died, that I should take no thought to my body aside from my health; that I should concentrate on developing my mind.”

“How old were you when she died?”

“Twelve.”

Noah chuckled and touched her cheek tenderly. “Just beginning to develop into a woman, no doubt, with all the vigor of any healthy young animal. In a household full of young men and their friends, she probably thought to protect you. And the old have a way of forgetting how important our desires are to us when we’re young. Did you like your grandmother?”

He had returned to caressing her, and was giving such exquisite pleasure that for a moment she could not reply. “I... my grandmother? Well, I respected her, but I was a little afraid of her. Noah
... oh ...
I... I am going to burst,” she whispered fiercely.

“Yes, my dearest, it’s like that.”

“I’m not afraid anymore.”

He searched the luminous eyes which beseeched him to release her, and brought her over the edge of pleasure, so that she was barely aware of the pain he caused on entering her. He held her for a long time afterwards, stroking her hair and kissing her eyelids. “You’re a delight, Olivia.”

* * * *

They did not arrive at Frobess Grange until after darkness had fallen, but they were expected and Olivia was shown to a charming suite of rooms where she changed from her traveling outfit. The housekeeper had assured her that a meal would be served them shortly in the dining room and Marie assisted Olivia into one of her most becoming new gowns for the occasion.

Olivia made her way to the drawing room in the best of spirits only to find that Noah had not arrived there yet. She wandered to the harpsichord and sat down, to become immediately immersed in the madrigal she played. When the door opened, she expected to see Noah enter, but it was the butler who announced, “Dinner may be served at any time, my lady.”

“Please inform Sir Noah,” she said evenly, though her confidence was shaken. Somehow it was awkward to be stranded alone in the drawing room when her husband should have been there with her. It was a small matter, she presently scolded herself; no doubt there was a reason for his delay.

The door opened again and Noah could be heard instructing the butler that they would dine directly. He strode over to her and took her hands in his. “Forgive me, my dear. There was a letter awaiting me which I felt should be answered immediately. You look charming. No doubt this is one of the gowns I reimbursed you for.”

Olivia had to make an effort to match his quizzing tone. “I thought you would prefer the hassock to an India print gown.”

“You were right.” He placed her hand on his arm to lead her to the dining room. “Roger instructed me that we are to treat his home as our own, so you must not hesitate to ask for anything you need. We’ll have him to Welling Towers sometime, with his sister and her husband. She’s recently married and now lives in Suffolk; you have her rooms here. Roger is unmarried and assured me that the suite adjacent to the master suite is not currently fit for habitation. Never fear, though, Olivia. I’ll find your rooms.” His eyes danced wickedly in the candlelight and he raised his glass in salute.

Olivia felt her cheeks color, hard as she tried to avoid it. There was no reason to be shy with him now when she had felt so relaxed that morning, she told herself, but she could not meet his eyes. “Whom did she marry, Noah?” she asked as she concentrated on cutting a bite of sturgeon.

“Lord Coweather. His seat is near Stowmarket, so they’re not so very far from the Towers, but I never knew Margaret very well. She’s Julianna’s age, I believe, and rather a quiet woman. Coweather is a bit stiff-laced for a young man, but highly intelligent and active in the House. Roger simply kept bringing men here to visit until his sister met someone she liked, since she refused to go to London for the season. They seem remarkably well suited... as we are, my poppet.”

Again Olivia felt unaccountably shaken by his attitude. Just as his remarks on their children had chilled her when they were first engaged, so his glib portrayal of their marital suitability disturbed her. Surely he did not give such incredible weight to their experience in bed that morning. Much as she had enjoyed it, and looked forward to further intimacy, Olivia felt that she had a great deal more to offer him than her body. And she wanted a great deal more from him than his.

“Are you feeling poorly, Olivia?” he asked with concern when she sat mute across the table for some time.

Startled, she raised her head and forced a smile. “I’m fine; I was merely thinking.”

“Shall you tell me your thoughts?” he coaxed with an engaging smile.

“Oh, no, they were not such as to interest you. This is a remarkably fine veal dish, is it not?”

Puzzled by her evasion, he agreed politely and allowed her to question him on his favorite dishes, and tell him of her brother Peter’s accomplishments as a chef. He was distracted by her queries on the table kept by the Prince at Brighton, and was soon regaling her with escapades he had witnessed there.

When they had finished their meal she rose to leave him, but he protested that on their honeymoon surely he must be permitted to take his claret with her in the drawing room. “And perhaps you’ll play for me,” he suggested hopefully.

Olivia was more than happy to have his company and to oblige him on the harpsichord. He soon joined her by the instrument and sang with her while turning the music. “I remember the first night we sang together,” she remarked with a lamentable sigh.

“So do I. You and Julianna both drank more than you should have... and you thought the next morning that I had put you to bed.” He lifted her hand to kiss it. “Shall I do so now?”

“I... it’s early yet, Noah. I’ve been intrigued by how bright the moon is tonight. Could we walk in the gardens?”

“Certainly, if you would like that.” He was determined to humor her, though it discouraged him that she was not as eager as he to repeat their morning’s experience. With reluctance he rang for their outdoor wraps.

The evening was warm for spring; the moonlight bathed the yew hedges and rows of ghostly gray herbs with enough light to make walking amongst them a simple matter, and Olivia welcomed the exercise after being shut in a carriage for several days on end. She reveled in the sweet smells of new growth which filled the evening air.

“It’s glorious simply to be outside again!” she exclaimed. “Not that your carriage is not the most luxurious I’ve ridden in, Noah, but all carriages are stuffy, don’t you think?”

“Undoubtedly. Do you not wish to stay in the gardens?” He caught at her hand as she slipped on the stone stairs leading down to the lawn.

“No, I want to walk until my feet protest, until it is very late and the servants despair of our ever ringing for tea, until it is morning and I can gallop up those hills.” She waved a hand at the black lumps against the lighter sky.

“I see you’ve been hiding from me the fact that you’re daft, Olivia,” he laughed, catching her enthusiasm. “We shall walk until your feet hurt or until I break my neck in the dark.”

“I used to creep out of Stolenhurst on nights such as this. Of course, I knew every inch of the estate, so there was no harm likely to come to me. I doubt anyone even realized that I did so, except our coachman, and only he because I would often find him strolling around the grounds as well. He smoked an ancient pipe and told me how things were when he was but a stableboy at Stolenhurst.”

“I don’t believe I’ve met him.”

“Peter turned him off,” she replied bitterly. “It was not so hard on him as it might have been, for Lord Bouthy took him on immediately.”

“Why did Peter turn him off?”

“My brothers took the carriage out one night for one of their ... rampages and brought it back heavily damaged, with one of the horses so injured that he had to be destroyed. Crowther protested their treatment of the animals, which was not wise of him but certainly understandable in the circumstances. Peter lost his temper and turned him off without a reference, but Lord Bouthy did not let that deter him.”

“When did this happen?”

“Perhaps half a year ago,” she said sadly.

“And so you lost one of your friends. Why did your companion leave?” he asked curiously.

Olivia wrinkled her brow perplexedly. “She would not tell me, Noah, though she denied it had anything to do with the way my brothers plagued her. Nor did she believe tales of any misconduct on my part. I really cannot understand it.”

“I hope you’ll write to her and offer any assistance she may need, Olivia. I doubt your brother would have thought to provide her with a reference.”

“Thank you, Noah. I had planned to speak with you about it.” Olivia turned to him gratefully. “It’s thoughtful of you to concern yourself.”

“I trust you’ll always rely on me in such matters, Olivia.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her warmly. “Shall we put the servants out of suspense and go back to ring for tea?”

Olivia emerged from his embrace smiling. “I’d be perfectly content to skip tea this once, Noah.”

“Excellent.” His eyes sparkled in the moonlight. “I find I have no desire for tea myself.”

Chapter Sixteen

“Is it... usual for husbands and wives to ... go to bed so often as we do?” Olivia curiously asked her husband several weeks later when they lay together in the mammoth four-poster at Frobess Grange.

“Does it matter?” he murmured, on the edge of sleep.

“No, of course not,” she sighed.

Noah tentatively opened his eyes to survey her enquiring face. “I don’t suppose it is, Olivia. That is, not once they’ve been married for a while. I thought you were as interested as I.” There was a questioning note in his voice, and his eyes were serious.

“Well, I am,” she admitted reluctantly, “but it seems so incredibly self-indulgent.”

“We’re on our honeymoon; we’re supposed to be self-indulgent.” He laughed and rumpled her hair. “I doubt we’ll have such a luxury of time when we return to the Towers. Now we have nothing to do but amuse ourselves exactly as we see fit.”

Olivia nodded and allowed him to fall asleep, his arm about her waist. There was certainly truth in what he said—both that they had the time to indulge themselves now, and that they would not have so much time when they returned to Welling Towers.

It seemed ridiculous to worry, when he was with her constantly, about their return home. He had proved to be the affectionate man he had told her he was. She had found herself completely immersed in their physical intimacies, but she had a gnawing doubt that such a situation could continue.

Olivia had become dependent upon his attention, his affection; in fact, she thought with almost a sob, she had come to love him. And it would not do to love him, for although he exhibited a fondness, and a physical desire, for her, she could not feel that he returned a similar regard. There was still that measure of reserve about him which alarmed her. Much as he spoke, a casual wide-ranging conversation, he seldom spoke of himself or how he felt about things. He rarely told her the sort of stories she wanted to share with him of her childhood, her hopes and her fears. His topics were impersonal, almost always light-hearted and amusing. And although he appeared fascinated by her own revelations, which was consoling, it was disturbing to offer him everything she was, her innermost self, and have him offer her only what she could see before her. It was impossible for her
not
to give him what she could, she thought despairingly; it was the nature of her love.

Still, there was plenty of time for her to be alone with him and to get to know him better. When they returned home his mother and sister would have left for London for several months. Perhaps when he saw her, as his wife, in the setting where he had been raised, he would be more forthcoming. When they rode about the estate and visited tenants, when she had the ordering of the domestic affairs for his comfort, perhaps then he would put more value on her than he did now. She would seem more a wife than a... mistress then, a partner in more than bed. With this comforting thought Olivia fell asleep.

* * * *

For Noah the honeymoon was pure delight; it was their return to Welling Towers that he viewed with apprehension. He became more withdrawn the closer they came to his home, Olivia more talkative. There had seemed no appropriate time to tell her that he expected a letter, possibly calling him away, when they reached the Towers. He listened to her enthusiastic plans and felt a moment’s hesitation.

It was unfair to leave her alone, completely alone, when they were so newly wed. His mother and sister would not likely return for more than two months. But if he had to leave, it would be an urgent project, and for his country, he reminded himself grimly. This marriage had been a necessity and should not distract him from his duty, no matter how felicitous his honeymoon had proved.

Immediately upon their return to Welling Towers Olivia was taken to her new suite by the housekeeper and found no sign of Lady Lawrence’s recent occupation of the rooms. Rather they were obviously hers now with her own belongings carefully placed about on dressing table and bedside stand. The interconnecting door to the master suite, which had not been used in years, was now opened to her summons and Noah entered.