Liberty for Paul (7 page)

“Brooklyn,” Mama snapped.

Brooke waved her off. “When he sees you naked, that thing will get hard—”

“Brooklyn, I demand you stop right this instant,” Mama all but shouted.

Brooke’s eyes left Liberty’s face and snapped to Mama’s. “Well, is it true?”

“Yes,” Mama admitted sheepishly.

“What’s he going to do with it?” Liberty shrieked in terror. Was he going to touch her with it? She needed to know, desperately.

Neither Brooke nor Mama answered, they both looked to the other one, each expecting the other to answer her.

“He’s going to touch me with it, isn’t he?” she exclaimed, seeing the answer on their faces.

“Perhaps you were right,” Brooke said, looking at Mama. “I believe this is a conversation better had between a mother and daughter,” she added, getting off the bed.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Mama said, grabbing her hand and pulling her back to the bed. “You wanted to be a part of this conversation; you’re going to see it through.”

“I only wanted to be a part of it because I wasn’t properly informed. I wanted to spare her the uncertainty I faced,” Brooke said evenly, looking from Mama to Liberty then back to Mama.

“Well, excuse me,” Mama said a bit irritably. “Like everyone else, I was under the assumption you no longer required the information on your wedding day.”

Brooke mumbled something Liberty couldn’t make out. Not that she even cared about their conversation; she was too busy thinking about what was going to happen to her.

“Yes, he’s going to touch you with it,” Brooke said uncomfortably. “At first it will hurt, but then it won’t…” she trailed off and her face went as red as Mama’s.

“Then what?” Liberty demanded.

“She already told you, then it won’t,” Mama said somewhat sharply, not meeting Liberty’s eyes.

Liberty looked back and forth between the scarlet faces of her sister and mother. “Well, it doesn’t matter,” she finally declared.

“Yes, it will,” Mama told her softly. “Liberty, you may not want to, but Mr. Grimes might, and if he does, as his wife, it’s your duty to be willing.”

Liberty swallowed but nodded her understanding. Earlier she’d made up her mind to do whatever necessary to be a good wife, and if that meant letting him touch her that way, she’d allow it.

Biting her lip and swiping at the tears on her cheeks, she looked around the outside of the inn. Mr. Grimes was probably waiting on her, she’d better hurry up and get back so they could be on their way.

“Better now?” Mr. Grimes inquired from beside the carriage.

“Yes, thank you,” she replied, accepting his help getting into the carriage.

“I have something for you,” he said after he’d sat back down. “I apologize I didn’t give it to you earlier, I nearly forgot about it until just a moment ago.”

What could he have for her? All her things were in trunks on the top of the carriage. Had something fallen off?

“Here,” he said, handing her a small wrapped bundle that she immediately recognized as a book from Bronson’s Books, a little bookshop on Bond Street.

“Thank you,” she said, running her fingers along the twine that was holding the paper on.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Open it,” he said with a lopsided smile.

“I have nothing for you,” she whispered, horrified.

Mr. Grimes reached his hand over and patted the back of hers. “That’s all right. You didn’t need to get me anything,” he said evenly. When she glanced at him like she wasn’t convinced, he added, “It’s nothing that great. Just something to occupy you with until we can fetch your library.”

Liberty fought to keep the smile from her lips. All the books she had could easily fill half a library. Papa had promised he’d bring them to her in the next few weeks. He must have mentioned it to Mr. Grimes last night at dinner. “Thank you,” she repeated, pulling one of the ends of the twine, causing the bow to release and the twine to loosen. Tossing the string on the floor, she made quick work of the paper and flipped the book over to read the title.

“The man at the bookshop said this was the newest book he had, so I’m certain you haven’t read it,” Mr. Grimes told her.

Liberty nodded. The book was titled
Loving Her Gentleman
, obviously it was a romance novel. “The man was correct, I haven’t read this one,” she murmured. Truth be known, she’d never even read a novel before. She’d bought a couple the first time she’d been in Bath, but had been unable to stay interested past the first fifty pages. Perhaps this time it would be different. “Why did you buy me a book?” she blurted out.

Mr. Grimes shrugged. “I don’t know. Perhaps because I thought you might be bored waiting for your books. Unless you have plans to join the local sewing circle and start baking goods for the needy, that is.”

Again she almost smiled, but didn’t. She could tell he was trying very diligently to be nice. “Well, whatever your reasons, thank you very much. Though I must say, I’m rather surprised to see you bought me a romance novel,” she said curiously.

“What did you expect me to do? Give you a copy of the Bible and tell you to read Ruth, Esther and snippets of Song of Solomon?” he responded laughingly.

Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “Actually, that is exactly what I expected of you.”

He grinned at her. “We still have a while before we arrive. If you’d like, you can begin to read now,” he suggested.

Liberty nodded and began to read her book. The old Liberty would have tried to annoy him by reading it out loud, but she’d turned over a new leaf and didn’t want to start things off on the wrong foot, so to speak.

In no time at all they pulled up to a little brown bricked two story cottage she would now call home. The cottage belonged to the church and as part of his salary, the current vicar was allowed to live in the little cottage.

There were only a handful of rooms inside and it took only a few minutes for Liberty to realize that this cottage was built with the intent that the husband and wife were expected to share a room.

Standing in the doorway of the only room she’d seen with a bed, Liberty could feel her body start to tremble as her eyes stared at the bed.

Fighting the urge to run, she took a step inside when she suddenly felt a staying hand on her upper arm. “There’s another room upstairs,” Mr. Grimes said softly in her ear.

“I didn’t see that one,” she whispered, feeling her body relax.

“You may sleep in whichever you prefer.”

Liberty nervously licked her lips. “Where do you want me to sleep?”

“I don’t care,” he said hastily. “I’ve just been using this one since it was more convenient. But if you want it, I’ll move my things upstairs.”

Liberty was confused. Did that mean he wasn’t planning to share her bed, or that he would just visit her there, then leave to go sleep in his own? She had to know. Stiffening her spine and willing herself not to blush, she asked, “Are you planning to leave?”

“Leave?” he echoed, piercing her with his gaze.

“Yes, leave after you touch me with your…your….love musket,” Liberty said, blushing. He probably had no idea what she was talking about. Even Andrew had admitted to never having heard that stupid term. But she had no idea what it was called. Nobody had felt fit to tell her and now she was making a fool out of herself.

“Excuse me? My what?” Mr. Grimes asked, his lips twitching.

Liberty flushed. Obviously he hadn’t heard the term, either. Where on earth had Madison picked that up anyway? “You know, that thing,” she said, vaguely pointing in the direction of his waist.

“Is that what your mother called it?” Mr. Grimes asked, trying not to laugh.

“No,” Liberty snapped. “She did not. She didn’t call it anything. I have no idea what it’s called, that’s just what I heard Madison call it.”

Paul howled with laughter. “Madison said that?”

“Yes,” Liberty answered testily. “Are you planning to visit my bed tonight or not?” she demanded angrily, bringing his laughter to an abrupt end.

He stopped laughing and blinked at her. “No,” he said finally, shaking his head.

“In that case, I’ll take the room upstairs,” Liberty said stiffly, running up the stairs.

Chapter 8

Liberty didn’t know why she was irritated that he didn’t want to share her bed, she just was. Not that she was looking forward to it or anything, she’d actually been dreading it. At the same time though, she couldn’t help but feel unwanted by his easy rejection.

The whole conversation had been humiliating enough already and when he’d said “no” so casually, emphasized by shaking his head wildly, that was enough to send her into complete mortification.

Shedding her clothes, she crawled into bed, heedless of needing a bath. She was so tired she feared she might fall asleep in the tub and drown. And with her luck,
he’d
be the one to find her dead, naked body.

Today wasn’t all bad, she thought pulling the covers up. He’d been rather nice in the carriage. Perhaps Madison and Brooke were right and he was nice, or perhaps, it was all a ruse and his real personality would present itself the next day. It didn’t really matter, she told herself. No matter what atrocious thing he did, she was determined to be as sweet as sugar in return, even if she seethed on the inside like she was doing just now.

After what felt like an extended blink, Liberty’s eyes opened to see the sun shining through her uncovered window. Rubbing her sleepy eyes, Liberty gained her feet and looked around for her clothes.

Selecting a green day gown out of the one trunk that had been brought up, she draped it over the dressing screen then went to where she thought the bell pull was only to find it was disconnected. “Now what?” she muttered. How was she supposed to get hot water for her bath?

She searched through her trunk and found there wasn’t a single dressing gown in there. Deciding it wasn’t worth it to try stuffing herself back into the gown from yesterday, Liberty left her room in only her chemise and tiptoed to the stairs. “Hello,” she called.

Nobody answered.

Last night she’d been introduced to Mrs. Siddons, their only fulltime house servant who worked as their cook and housekeeper. Perhaps she was in the kitchen and couldn’t hear her calling. She wasn’t worried about Mr. Grimes seeing her, he wouldn’t be home at this hour. He’d be out teaching Latin or doing whatever it was that vicars did during the day. Her own Papa had never been home during the day, so why would Pa—Mr. Grimes?

Liberty carefully walked down the stairs and to the kitchen where she found a large copper tub full of steaming water. This wasn’t where she would have liked to take a bath, but it seemed she had no choice in the matter since she couldn’t carry the large tub full of water upstairs.

With a sigh, she pulled her chemise over her head and stepped into the tub. Letting her feet and legs get used to the heat, she slowly sank into the warm tub. Not terribly comfortable with the idea of bathing in the kitchen, Liberty made short work of getting clean.

Right next to where she’d placed her chemise on the towel rack was a clean towel waiting. Gripping the end of it with her fingertips, she gave it a gentle tug. With ease, the towel slid off the rack and she wrapped the fluffy cloth around herself and was drying off when she heard footsteps outside the door.

Worried she wasn’t going to be able to escape without being seen, she spotted a halfway opened pantry door and quickly dashed behind it.

The kitchen door creaked open and Liberty heard heavy footfalls walk across the room. Panic caused her chest to constrict. What would happen if he opened the door to the pantry and saw her? She shivered, and not necessarily because she was cold.

Inside the pantry was darker than night, and there was absolutely no room to move about. She stood there for what seemed like forever listening as her husband splashed around in the tub like a child, humming the tunes to popular American songs. He must have figured out she was in here, she thought, leaning against the shelves. There was no other explanation for why he was now singing the chorus to Yankee Doodle.

Shaking her head in irritation, she considered going out there and giving him a piece of her mind for playing with her this way. That’s when she realized two things: one, she couldn’t go out there and give him a piece of her mind because she was hardly any better dressed than he was, because two, she’d left her chemise on the towel rack.

Agitation welled up inside her. It was her own fault he knew she was in there. If only she’d snatched her chemise on the way to the pantry he’d have been none the wiser and probably would have been long gone by now.

Silence finally filled the air and Liberty opened the door to the pantry as slowly as she could so it wouldn’t creak. Relieved to find the room empty, Liberty stepped out of the pantry and darted over to the towel rack to get her chemise. Surely he wasn’t such a cad that he’d take it with him, was he?

He was.

***

Paul went to bed the night before with a lot on his mind. Though he’d only been married for twelve hours, he’d already drawn two major conclusions. First, something was different about Liberty. For the majority of the day she hadn't been herself. Part of that could be chalked up to the fact they didn’t know each other, but that didn’t account for all of it. The woman he’d met last year was fiery and somewhat quick tempered. The woman he spent most of the day with was as docile as a newborn kitten. Something was definitely wrong. It seemed her spirit was broken, and he wasn’t sure why, but for some reason that didn’t set well with him.

The second thing, which actually was closely linked to the first, was that he could tell it was possible for them to create an enjoyable life together—but only if they both tried hard.

The few times they’d spoken, Paul had actually enjoyed the conversation. He’d wanted to talk more while they were in the carriage and found himself rather disappointed when she took his suggestion and started to read her book. As much as he hated to admit it, he would have even enjoyed it if she had read the book to him. It wasn’t that he had any great interest in romance novels; he just would have liked to have heard her read.

Their conversation outside his room had reminded him a little of the old Liberty. Especially when she got angry and snapped at him. He hadn’t meant to laugh at her. He’d known what she was talking about the whole time, but every time she said something, he couldn’t help but want to hear more. As much as it pained him to even think it, he would have rather fought with her all day than sat there in silence.

Before he extinguished the last candle on his nightstand he vowed that come tomorrow he’d try to get another glimpse at the old Liberty, even if he had to purposely agitate her. He’d never done it on purpose before, it seemed his mere presence had been enough in the past. The difference was, in the past she hadn’t been trying so hard not to get her feathers ruffled.

Without any effort on his part, an opportunity presented itself first thing in the morning.

He’d gotten in the routine of taking a bath in the kitchen before breakfasting. It seemed odd at first bathing there, but Mrs. Siddons couldn’t carry the pails of water and since it was just him, he soon got over the awkwardness of it.

Paul had no idea Liberty was in there before he strolled into the kitchen, and if she had been in the open, he would have apologized and looked for another opportunity to hassle her. But since she had gone through the trouble of ditching her chemise and hiding out in the pantry, he decided to take full advantage of the situation.

At first he just thought to take a long time and act childish by splashing around loudly. When that didn’t seem to work, he upped the ante by humming tunes he knew she had to be familiar with. Though his knowledge was lacking on the subject of her homeland, he did know the melodies to a few of their songs. He hummed through two of them, not sure he’d gotten the tune right. But there was one song he knew the chorus to and most of the verses, Yankee Doodle.

Of course he knew that song because he’d grown up hearing people sing it in a taunting way against the Americans. The verses he’d heard were about them being cowards and getting devoured. Whereas she was likely to only be familiar with the ones praising George Washington and his stallion as he commanded a million. Judging it best only to spike her ire, not have a full-blown war, he stuck to just singing the chorus.

Five times he sang the chorus. Each time he sang it, he got just a bit louder. After the fifth time, he frowned and decided to get out of the tub. He’d have to do something else. Mrs. Siddons would soon be back and she’d need the kitchen to cook breakfast.

Drying off, his eyes kept straying to her chemise. He knew she’d have every right to be furious if he swiped it. That wasn’t exactly what he wanted. He wanted her to get her dander up, not give her a reason to scalp him.

One step away from the door, he turned around and against his better judgment, he swiped her chemise and stalked out the door before he could change his mind.

***

Liberty pulled her towel around her as tightly as she could. There was nothing for it, she was going to have to make a mad dash to her room and run by Mr. Grimes wearing only her towel in the process.

She scowled. She’d never been more convinced he was a jacknapes as she was just now. Inclining her head with pride she didn’t feel, she opened the door quietly, falsely hoping if she were quiet he wouldn’t realize she’d left the kitchen.

Padding down the hallway, she couldn’t help but smile when she reached the first step without seeing or hearing him. Surely she would have encountered him already if he planned to taunt her. Just as her foot landed on the third step, she glanced to the right and saw him standing in an open doorframe across the hall. “Missing something?” he drawled, shaking her chemise in front of him.

Startled, she froze momentarily before tightening her grip on her towel. She knew she should run up the stairs like she’d originally planned, but seeing his face-splitting grin while he shook her chemise only infuriated her more. “Give it back,” she said in a low, fierce tone.

“Come and get it,” he drawled, extending it in her direction only enough to taunt her, not enough for her to actually be able to reach it.

Though anger burned inside her, she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her beg or play a silly game in order to get her clothing back. “Keep it,” she said casually, giving him an insincere smile.

Paul’s hand lowered. “You know what? You’ve a beautiful smile, but only when it’s genuine,” he said softly, tossing her chemise on the banister before walking away.

Liberty’s body froze. Her eyes drifted back and forth from her chemise to his retreating back. Had he meant what he said, or was he only mocking her? Sticking to her original opinion that he was an awful villain, she quickly decided he was mocking her. With a sharp exhale, she grabbed her chemise and went to her room.