Liberty for Paul (6 page)

She imagined that was due to him being found out more and more. Papa had gone so far as to put the announcement in the paper, arrange for the special license
and
contact a local minister—all before trapping the reluctant Mr. Grimes into agreeing to marry her.

Speaking of the reluctant Mr. Grimes, his face was as grim as she’d ever seen it. She’d seen the man unhappy many times, but just now he looked angrier than she’d ever seen him.

Liberty grabbed her drink and guzzled it down in the most unladylike fashion imaginable, inadvertently drawing attention to herself.

“You have some on your face,” Brooke murmured to her, handing her a napkin.

“Thank you,” Liberty whispered uneasily. “He looks so angry. What am I to do?”

“I can suggest a thing or two that will improve his mood instantly,” Andrew offered with a teasing smile.

Liberty didn’t know exactly what he meant, but knew it had to do with something that should only be done in the dead of night in a locked bedchamber. Her suspicions were only confirmed when Brooke gave him a swat on the arm. “Don’t listen to him,” she told her sister. “Mr. Grimes won’t be mad forever. And if it becomes too unbearable, you can always do what I do and use quotes from the Bible to point out the error of his ways.”

“That’s true,” Liberty conceded. After spending nearly twenty years watching Brooke quote Bible scripture to their father as a means to extricate herself from trouble she’d wound up in, there was little doubt in Liberty’s mind that such a tactic would work.

“Perhaps you should just see how it goes and give him a chance,” Madison put in. “I may not know him well, but I do know that he has not given me a reason to dislike him.”

“Would you like to marry him in my stead?” Liberty asked Madison and laughed when Madison’s eyes bulged and she shook her head with so much vigor her coiffure started to slip.

“I agree with Madison,” Brooke said, nodding slightly. “I’ll admit when we were first introduced I thought he was a bit odd, but now that I’ve gotten to know him, I don’t think so anymore.”

“That, or you’ve just gotten used to it,” Liberty suggested. “Perhaps you’ve been around him and become so accustomed to his oddness you think he’s normal.”

Brooke rolled her eyes. “Does it matter?”

“I suppose not,” Liberty answered dully.

They ate in silence a few more minutes until Madison whispered. “Well, if it helps, he’s already seen you naked and has still agreed to marry you.”

“Madison,” Liberty snapped disapprovingly. She shot a sharp glance to Brooke who was giggling outright, and caught sight of Andrew’s lips twitching.

“She has a point,” Brooke said a moment later when she got her giggles under control. “It will make your wedding night a bit easier.”

“Brooke,” Liberty said through clenched teeth. Did these two know no bounds? They were eating dinner, for goodness’ sake.

“By the bye,” Brooke continued, ignoring the scathing glance she was receiving, “after dinner come to my room. I want to have a little talk with you and this might be my last chance.”

Liberty had a good idea what kind of a talk Brooke wanted to have with her. “That won’t be necessary,” she said quickly.

“Yes, it will,” Brooke assured her. “If you’re counting on Mama to do it, you may not be properly informed.”

She looked skeptically at Brooke. Mama had been married for more than twenty five years and had three daughters, she obviously knew
something
.

“Just come see me,” Brooke repeated.

Liberty fought the urge to tell her there was no need since she had no plans to do whatever activity necessary to have children with Mr. Grimes. Not that she didn’t love children, because she did, she adored them in fact; but she just didn’t want to become that close with Mr. Grimes. Swallowing past the lump that had formed in her throat, she said, “All right.”

“Good,” Brooke said with a simple smile. “This way you’ll know what to expect.”

“If you’re going to describe that thing that dangles between his legs, don’t bother,” Liberty said, throwing good manners to the wind like the rest of the heathens she was seated with. “I’ve already seen it.”

“You have?” Brooke squealed.

All three of them, who had been huddled together talking like nobody else was in the room, suddenly felt the questioning gazes of the their parents and Mr. Grimes.

“Excuse my wife,” Andrew cut in evenly, sending the trio a laughing smile. “She was merely shocked when Madison said she’d already decided on the gown she was going to wear to the wedding.”

Mama shot Brooke a sympathetic look; then resumed her conversation at the end of the table.

“Sweetheart,” Andrew said to Brooke. “Do try not to squeal again. I don’t think I can make up another viable excuse.”

“Thank you,” Brooke said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before turning back to Liberty. “Now you’ll definitely need to come to my room for a talk.”

“Fine,” Liberty ground out. “But only if Madison comes with me.”

Madison, who usually liked to be a silent member of the sisters conversations, put her drink down with an indelicate clang. “No, thank you. I think I’ll pass on having to hear any more about Mr. Grimes’ love musket,” she said dryly.

Brooke burbled with laughter; Liberty gasped; and Andrew choked on his bite of meat at her coarse and slightly unusual words. Madison, however, looked rather pleased with herself, Liberty noted when she got past her shock.

“Are you all right?” Mama asked Andrew.

He continued to cough and smack his chest while his face grew red.

“I think he’s choking,” Papa said, jumping up.

Brooke’s laughter dissolved on the spot and she pulled her arm back as far as she could before she used the heel of her hand to hit her husband with an echoing
thwack
squarely in the middle of his back.

Brooke’s smack must have done the trick because Andrew brought his napkin to his mouth for a moment, then turned to her and said, “Thank you, darling, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Think nothing of it,” Brooke answered, a sweet smile curving her lips.

“Perhaps you should cut your bites a bit smaller,” Mama suggested in a motherly sort of way.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he agreed, looking at Madison and trying not to laugh.

Their dishes were cleared away and dessert was served before anyone spoke again. “Ladies,” Andrew said in low tone, catching the attention of Liberty and her two sisters. “I believe for the rest of the meal the conversation shouldn’t stray from clothing and whatnot. However, Madison, I must commend you, even I had not heard that term before.”

“Thank you,” Madison said graciously, acting not the least bit embarrassed. But then again, why should she bother to act embarrassed when she wasn’t? The whole family knew she was wont to use a coarse word or a shocking phrase every now and again. Where else would Liberty have learned the ones she knew? It wasn’t until recently she’d ever heard her father use one.

When the dessert dishes had been cleared away, Mama was the first to get up from the table. Actually, from where Liberty was sitting, it looked like she literally sprang to her feet. “Shall we retire to the drawing room?” she suggested.

Andrew stiffened. Liberty could tell he wanted to say something. Perhaps something that most would not consider nice. After a little incident with a game of charades last year, he wasn’t nearly as tolerable of Mama’s parlor games.

“Actually, I must be going,” Mr. Grimes said, taking to his feet. “It appears I have a busy day tomorrow.”

Liberty knew what he was alluding to. It would seem that tomorrow was to be their Big Day. Poor man, he had no idea when he was summoned to London that his entire life was going to change so drastically before he went back home.

Shifting her glance to Papa, she saw he had a hesitant smile on his face, probably because he had just done a great wrong to someone he’d come to care about. Her heart sank. Papa would never have done the things he did if it weren’t for her. This was just yet another way she was a disappointment. Well, starting tomorrow that would all change. She would become Mrs. Paul Grimes and do her best to be a model wife. She may not be happy about it, but she’d do whatever she needed to.

Chapter 7

Paul had never had such a restless rest. Part of him was mad—nay, angry—nay, furious—with John. He understood John’s desire to protect his daughter, but he’d gone too far this time.

Pushing past his anger over John’s tricks, he found new anger in the fact he’d just agreed to die a virgin. Though he was a minister, he was not a monk and he’d be lying if he didn’t acknowledge his disappointment at the prospect of never being with a woman. Of course he could tell Liberty it was his husbandly right to make her share his bed, but that wouldn’t be very satisfying. Well, in a way it would be, he thought wryly. He had seen her naked once and despite his best efforts, every now and then the image popped into his head. At the time, he had just been doing his best to get her warm and had no other motives, but his brain must have absorbed more of her naked image than he’d originally thought.

After the first time he’d woken up in a cold sweat with a throbbing erection after having a dream about her, he’d lain awake for hours trying to make sense of it. Finally, just as the sun was rising, the simple—and obvious—solution hit him. It was because he’d never seen a naked lady before. Actually, that wasn’t exactly true, he’d seen one once, but she was no lady.

When he was eighteen, his father died and his brother inherited his title. That’s when he’d started to seriously pursue his life in the ministry and came to terms that he would be just as inexperienced as his future wife. That really hadn’t bothered him so much. First, she’d be a virgin and wouldn’t know the difference. Second, as a minister he couldn’t have a reputation for sleeping with unmarried—or married—women. And third, at least this way he would avoid getting a bawdyhouse disease.

That reason alone seemed good enough for Paul to keep it in his pants.

Two years before that when he was sixteen, however, he’d questioned if he would indeed go into ministry like his father had before inheriting his brother’s title due to lack of male issue. He knew that living a minister’s lifestyle he’d never get to experience many of the same things his brother and friends would.

After a month’s contemplation, he asked his older brother to take him with him to a brothel the next time he went. Sam readily agreed and the next night Paul found himself at Lady Bird’s, a local brothel. Sam introduced him to the Madam, and together the two of them decided Ginger should be the one to introduce Paul to the enchanting world of bed sport.

Nervously, Paul took a seat in the front room and waited while Ginger “freshened up”. His brother sat next to him and informed him Ginger wasn’t the best looking, but she was the most patient. And if he should have any trouble, he should just close his eyes and imagine Lucy. Paul nodded with great enthusiasm. Lucy was their dairymaid, and a very fine looking girl. He’d had no doubt that thinking about her would solve a problem, should one arise, or lack thereof, as the case may be.

A few minutes later, a woman dressed in a tattered chemise walked up and grabbed Paul’s hand. Resisting the urge to pull from her clasp, he got up and followed her back to the room.

“I hear yer a virgin,” Ginger purred, clucking her tongue.

Paul nodded.

“Ginger’ll take care o’ that right away,” she said as if virginity was some pesky little thing he needed to be divested of post haste.

Paul smiled tentatively. Perhaps this was not such a good idea, he thought once he was in the room. His eyes swept his surroundings, causing his stomach to clench. In the middle of the room was a mattress with rumpled and stained sheets. Next to that was a half full chamber pot and half a dozen different articles of clothing were scattered across the floor, most of which belonged to men.

Paul took a deep breath and immediately regretted breathing through his nose. The room smelled of sex. Not that he was an expert, but he did know what semen smelled like, and this room reeked of it.

“Come here, you big boy,” Ginger called suggestively.

Paul’s eyes flew to where she was lying on the mattress, rubbing her hand in a circle next to her. He swallowed and closed his eyes. Squeezing them tighter, he tried to picture Lucy. But no such luck. His brain could not summon her sweet face.

His eyes were still shut when he heard Ginger get off the mattress and start to walk toward him. Her hands grabbed onto the front of his shirt. “Yer a shy one, huh?” she mused with a husky laugh.

He opened his eyes, but could do nothing more than stare at her rouged face and nasty teeth.

“Let’s try sumthin’ else,” Ginger said, trailing her hand down his front.

He jumped back instinctively when she grabbed for the buttons of his pants.

“Yer gonna have to git it out, ye know,” she said, her voice becoming slightly impatient. “It don’t matter if yer small, I’ll teach ye how to please a woman. But I gots to know wot yer working with.”

Paul stared at her unblinkingly. She thought he was hesitating because he was small? She could think that if she liked, he decided. He had no desire to prove her wrong at this point. He may not have had much personal experience in the way of seducing women, but he’d accidentally walked in on more romantic trysts than he cared to count, and he knew without a doubt “small” was not an accurate adjective to describe him.

Ginger laughed again. “Hmm, pr’aps tis will help wit yer problem,” she said, slipping the straps of her chemise off her shoulders and letting the dirty, ragged garment drop to the floor.

Just like spotting an overturned carriage, Paul couldn’t stop himself from looking at her body. A quick, yet thorough, sweep of her body told Paul everything he needed to know: he could not sleep with this woman. Her pale skin was covered with bruises and scars. She was so thin he could see the outline of almost every bone she possessed. Her small, misshapen breasts were covered in harsh looking red marks, and he wasn’t positive, but it appeared one was slightly larger than the other.

He watched in silence as she walked backwards to the mattress and reclined on it, rubbing her hands up and down her body seductively as she went. Slowly, she opened her legs invitingly to his gaze. Naturally, being sixteen and curious, he didn’t even try to stop his gaze from dropping to what she’d just freely exposed to him. Just as quickly as he looked, he fled the room.

Breathlessly, he ran from the room and dashed out of the brothel, yelling to the Madam that his brother would take care of his bill.

When a furious Sam confronted him later about why he’d ditched the wench, Paul claimed it was because he had an attack of morals and couldn’t go through with it. Since their father had been a minister, and it was well-known that Paul would be one, too, Sam didn’t push it. Paul was eternally thankful that he hadn’t because he would have hated to admit he’d gotten a view of what the pox looked like, and the sight made his stomach revolt.

After that night, he’d never seen another naked lady until Liberty. Instead, he’d settled for the occasional peek at the books of naughty drawings some of his friends snuck from their father’s library. Then at eighteen, he’d put all that behind him and gladly accepted he’d just have to wait until marriage where there would be a mutual attraction and both parties would care a great deal for each other.

But presently at four and twenty, he found himself only hours away from making vows that would make him the equivalent of a monk. He would never use force to get Liberty into bed, and judging by the way she detested him, it would take nothing less than force—most likely the physical kind—to get her into his bed. Now that he thought about it, it was better he didn’t sleep with Ginger, or any woman for that matter, because at least now he wouldn’t know what he was missing out on.

Shaking his head to rid himself of the images of Ginger, Paul stood up and went to the window of his rented room. John had tried to convince him to stay at his house overnight. But Paul refused and assured him nearly hundred times not to worry, he’d arrive at ten o’clock and marry Liberty.

Paul quickly shaved the scruff off his face and threw on his clothes. He hadn’t come to London yesterday with the intention of getting married today, so he’d need to run by a tailor shop and pray they had something nice already made that he could buy. He doubted anyone would care or notice, but he thought it would be an outright disrespect to show up in his wrinkled clothes from yesterday.

Two hours and three tailor shops later, Paul finally had a new suit of clothes and was traveling to the Banks’ residence when he called for the coachman to stop. He knew time was running short, but he needed to get one last thing before he went to the Watson Townhouse. A quick glance down both sides Bond Street and he saw what he’d been looking for. Telling his coachman to wait there, he ran across the street and returned quickly with a small bundle. With a quick word, he was on his way to his wedding.

“It’s about time,” a frazzled John Banks said as soon as Paul opened the carriage door.

“Sorry, sir. It took a bit longer than I expected this morning,” Paul said, not sure why he was bothering to apologize, he wasn’t actually late.

John made a dismissive hand gesture in the air. “It’s of no import now. You’re here. I’ll go tell Liberty to dry her eyes and get downstairs.”

That sounds like a positive start to our marriage, Paul thought, climbing the front steps to the townhouse. She was already in tears and they hadn’t even said I do yet.

In more than five years of being a vicar, Paul had officiated many weddings. Most at churches, some in gardens, some in fields, a few in drawing rooms, but this was the first wedding he’d ever attended that took place in the entry hall. He understood why: there was no decent looking room in the Watson Townhouse. They were all hideously decorated and stuffed game was mounted on every wall or resting on any flat surface that has bigger than two square feet.

There were no chairs brought in and with it being only a small family affair nobody complained. Everyone was assembled and waiting when John cleared his throat from the top of the stairs, catching the attention of the group.

All eyes fell on Liberty as John escorted her down the stairs and brought her to stand beside Paul.

Her pale pink dress brushed his legs as she took her spot next to him. She cast him an apologetic glance as she righted her gown. One of the corners of his mouth tipped up and he took her hand, giving it a squeeze to assure her everything would be all right. He wasn’t sure when he’d come to that conclusion, but somewhere in the last thirty seconds, he had.

The ceremony lasted a whole three minutes and it was now time to kiss his bride. Paul leaned forward to kiss her and when he caught sight of Liberty’s panic-stricken eyes, he realized this must be her first kiss and she looked terrified that it was to be made public. Quickly, he changed his course of action and settled for brushing a light kiss on her forehead.

“Thank goodness,” Brooke said with a sigh after the kiss. “I was afraid Andrew and I were going to have to demonstrate,” she teased, making the little group laugh and breaking the proverbial ice.

As was custom, a breakfast followed the ceremony. Thankfully, it was over quickly enough, followed by Liberty saying a tearful farewell to her family.

Paul tried to act patient while he waited by the carriage for her to finish hugging everyone for the third time. When she was done, he helped her inside and climbed in before anymore words could be exchanged. With a sharp rap on the roof, they were on their way.

***

The carriage ride very uneventful. Nobody said a word for the first hour. With the exception of an occasional sniffle, utter silence filled the carriage. During the second hour, Liberty got a grip on her emotions and settled for just staring out the window. Now she knew why Madison did it so often, it was actually rather entertaining.

She didn’t know how long she stared out the window before the carriage came to an abrupt stop and her husband asked if she was hungry or needed to get out and stretch. She declined both offers and waited for him to do whatever he was doing inside the inn.

She fidgeted when he got back into the carriage and he brushed her knee with his leg. “Sorry,” he murmured, taking a seat.

“It’s all right,” she mumbled. After the things Mama and Brooke told her last night, she’d gladly settle for his leg brushing hers. Suddenly she felt overwarm. “I fear I may be in need of some air after all. Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” Mr. Grimes said, opening the door to the carriage for her.

After he helped her down, she walked around the courtyard, taking deep breaths. What if he expected her to do
that
when they reached his home? Last night she’d been trying to convince Brooke that she didn’t need to hear the details because she would not be engaging in marital activities with Mr. Grimes, then all of the sudden, Mama barged in the room. Mama and Brooke had a stare down before Mama finally relented and said Brooke could stay, but only if she added something productive to the conversation, strongly stressing the word productive.

Mama put her arm around Liberty and sat by her on the bed. “Tomorrow night…uh…Paul is going to…um…come to your bed and…” she trailed off and fanned her red face.

“Oh, please,” Brooke muttered, sitting down on the other side of Liberty. “Liberty, you remember that thing you saw dangling between Mr. Grimes’ legs?”