The Rake Enraptured (18 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

"Mr Kingsley, may I speak with you for a moment?" Julia asked. Her stomach churned.

"Of course," he said with quick warmth, and reached out as if to take her hand. She withdrew it and he must have seen the small movement for
he checked and changed the offer to a slight turn as he indicated the door. "Shall we walk?"

She inclined her head and together they went out of the door to the terrace.

"Perhaps up and down here," he suggested, "for I'm sure you don't want to go far from the house." He was right: it was a blustery day and she regretted being outside in the wind. But inside were the Carstairs and the children, and somewhere in the house would be Colin, as well. She did not want anyone walking in on them.

"You are so thoughtful. You are always so thoughtful." She closed her eyes for a
brief moment, seized her courage firmly and began. "Mr Kingsley I find myself in a very uncomfortable position. We recently spoke of a matter close to our hearts, and at that time we were in agreement. However something has occurred since then that has altered matters-"

"Mr
Holbrook?"

"I-" she looked up at him, shot through with remorse, and faltered.

"It is Mr Holbrook, I see. Say no more. There is no need to be discomfited. I'm disappointed, of course." Now he did take her hand, and she allowed him, feeling very small inside. "I think I have lost a great prize, and can only wish I was a less cautious man, and had moved more swiftly."

"Mr Kingsley, you are too kind," she choked out.

"But are you sure you can be happy? You implied that - I am sorry if this is an uncomfortable question - but you implied he was not entirely an honorable man. I can't think you would continue to be happy with someone you could not admire."

"You- I agree, but I find I cannot act with impartial good sense-"

Resolution was firm on his blunt-featured face. "If you are being compelled against your will, only say the word. It will not be allowed-"

"No, you misunderstand me." She was ashamed to be honest but said the words anyway, like a penance. "It is only I kno
wingly make a decision that is not the choice of my rational mind. I find I cannot always be as careful and as prudent as I would like."

He sighed. "And you do not care enough to be imprudent with me instead of Mr
Holbrook."

"Oh, Mr Kingsley, you are surel
y the choice of any prudent woman."

"In this moment it feels like small consolation. No, I am sorry for saying that, when I said I would not discomfit you. Do not look so woebegone. My fit of the sullens will soon pass. Come, let us go back inside before y
ou take cold. We will say no more about it."

He was true to his word, and though Julia might easily have gone on trying to mend the rift between them, he was politely implacable, leading her back inside to the warm and talking to her of polite nothings, as
they had when they first met. She felt the distance he set between them, and was sorry for it. Such a kind man, who deserved every good thing. But there was only one of her and - having chosen Colin - she had to disappoint him. She felt wretched about it, and seeing the narrow-eyed look Mr Holbrook gave the two of them did not improve her mood.

"I hope you are happy," she hissed at him when he came close enough for a private word. He raised an eyebrow at her. "I have just made a very good man disappointed.
"

"Have you?" instantly his expression was transformed into sunshine. "Then I am happy, yes. I shall feel sorry for him with great compassion."

"You need not look so pleased about it."

"Very well," he said, and hid his smile. "Better?"

"Oh, go away!" she told him crossly. He lifted her hand, kissed it and - when she snatched it away and scowled at her, grinned once more and left her to fume.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The church was frigidly cold. Julia could see her breath in little puffs. When Colin took her hand the heat of his fingers - even through his gloves - was shocking. He smiled down at her and she tried to smile back through a miasma of terror. Every instinct told her she would regret this moment.

He was so handsome. So impossibly perfect, impe
ccably dressed and almost gleaming with the blessings nature had bestowed on him.

She felt like a charlatan in her borrowed finery, as lovely as she had ever been and yet worlds different from him. It was impossible a man such as him wanted her.

It was impossible that she herself wanted him, tarnished in character, wicked and dissipated. But she did, despite herself. She wanted his love with a fierce hunger, wanted all of him.

With an effort of will she held in her mind's eye the picture of him as he had
been that day on the hillside, months ago: casual and relaxed, his hair tousled by the wind and clothing rumpled, a playful look in his eye as he teased her. Or passionate and fervent in the cow byre, convinced of his passion for her.

That was the man she
wanted. This was merely the ordeal she must pass through, and then she would set about to see if she could possibly be enough to hold him.

She squeezed his fingertips and a light kindled in his blue eyes, banishing what might have been worry. He drew off
her glove, took the small band of gold from upturned surface of the Prayer book the vicar held and slid it onto her finger, his touch slow and steady. That heated her, to be touched by him in front of the Carstairs who stood up with them, and the stout vicar.

"With this Ring I thee wed," he said, with the same certain tone with which he had spoken his vows. "With my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow: In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen."

She heard the words with a sense of unreality. They seemed so odd coming from him, who had nothing to do with marriage or Godliness. Yet he said them in all seriousness, and if he took the promise lightly she could not see it. The vicar nodded in satisfaction, and gestured that they should kneel. She did, careful with the weight of the silver brocade dress she wore and trying not to crush it under her knees. It gleamed with subtle light, but more riveting was his hand hanging lax by his side, less than an inch from her own as he too knelt.

She wanted to reach out and hold it, to find that man who had been an odd sort of friend to her once, but she did not dare. It was hard to know if he could be ally when he had been an adversary for so long. She was not at
ease with him, not at all. Especially not in this moment.

". . . send thy blessing upon these thy servants, this Man and this Woman, whom we bless in thy Name . . ." The vicar spoke his part with sonorous relish, his voice ringing out through the empty chu
rch far louder than needed. ". . . these persons may surely perform and keep the vow and covenant betwixt them made, whereof this Ring given and received is a token and pledge, and may ever remain in perfect love and peace together, and live according to thy laws; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

He took Julia's and Colin's right hands in his own soft hands, placed them together and said,
“Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder."

Their part in the ceremony was done, and now the vica
r wound on alone in the solitary splendor of his own words, blended together in a smooth stream that slid past her. ". . . Man and wife together . . ." ". . . Wife shall be as the fruitful vine . . ." ". . . live together so long in godly love and honesty . . ." ". . . this woman may be loving and amiable, faithful and obedient to her husband . . ." Ancient words that seemed so odd when applied to them as they were. She felt fallen from grace, grasping on to it desperately with slipping fingertips. A carnal creature turning from all she had been taught by her mother, all she knew of the world and her own place in it, to grasp at a star that shone too bright and wonderful to refuse.

Finally the vicar was done, and raised them up, beaming happily.

"If you'll just come this way, the register must be signed. Just here. Just here, yes." Julia's hand was steady as she signed without blot or spatter of ink. She watched Colin form his own name in loops and sharp slashes, a dynamic shape much larger than her own, engulfing the line below his space. "Lovely. Very good. And you too, Mr Carstairs, of course." It had been an unhappy moment when she told the couple she had no one to stand for her or give her away. She could not ask them for the money to send for Grandmere, and other than her there was no one. They had stepped forward without hesitation, and the kindness of their acceptance was warming even as it made her squirm within. She felt almost ashamed of her marriage, of how everyone must pity her for such foolishness. Even as much as she had despised Colin once, she knew she now shared the name and some part of the reputation. It was not something she could hide from, but there, she had resolved to take this course. There was no point dwelling on what was to come.

T
here would be all too many tomorrows for regret. Now was the moment for whatever happiness she could take.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

"Are we not taking a carriage?"

"Would you prefer it?" He turned to her with his eyebrows raised, gloved fingers still o
n the latch of his horse's box. "We can if you'd like, but I have something else in mind."

"What is that?"

"A ride over the fields to the cottage I have rented, with you up before me."

"Won't that be uncomfortable? And we can't carry much baggage that way.
"

He laughed and pulled her close to him, tucked under his chin. She came willingly, though it felt very odd to hold a man like that, even here in the warm privacy of the stables where there was no one to see but the horses.

"Very practical," he said, and kissed the top of her head. "It is only I have this fantasy, built on a certain memory, of a woman who has promised to wed me, carried away on my horse until we find a quiet place with a soft bed and no one to trouble us. No need for baggage because it is already there. No servants to interrupt us. Only she and I to discover each other. But if you prefer you may ride in a carriage. I'm sure the Carstairs will lend us one if we ask."

"Oh. When you put it like that . . . Our baggage is already there?"

"My valet took it personally."

"Your valet? I didn't realize you had one with you."

"I left him at the inn. You don't imagine I can maneuver myself into such finery as I am wearing today?"

"It is very tight." She smoot
hed a hand over the superfine coat he had worn to their wedding, now concealed beneath his greatcoat, and smiled a secret smile to be permitted to touch him like this. Not quite proper of course, in a public place, but no longer a scandal. They were married. He was hers. "You looked wonderful."

"A compliment, is it? You must be careful, or I shall be overcome."
She leaned her forehead against his chest, and he squeezed her gently. "Would you prefer I ask for a carriage?"

"No. I like the sound of the hor
se," she said dreamily.

In an instant he had stepped away and opened the box of his tall bay mare. "I'll be with you directly."

"Shouldn't you change first?"

"That would take too long."

"Or let a groom saddle the horse?"

"That would also take too long."

She gurgled in amusement, and admired the swift way he went about his task. "You do that very fast."

"I should think so. Half asleep, in the dark and blindfolded. That's a cavalry man for you. There we are."

She stepped back from the entrance so he could lead the horse out past her into the courtyard. "She's very beautiful."

He mounted in a swift, lithe motion that
delighted her with its grace. "She's my pride. Give me your hand." She put up her right hand and he leaned down to grasp it firmly. "Now put your foot on my boot and step up."

"I'll marr the polish," she said, eying the mirror shine on his Hessians.

"That is why I keep a valet. Now, will you step up or must I dismount and throw you up there, wife?"

"No, husband. I will come." She looked at him und
er her eyelashes, demurely, and saw his eyes narrow in satisfaction at the exchange of terms.

She gave a small boost but it was mostly his strength that lifted and turned her as she came, and tucked her comfortably into his lap, his arm tight around her w
aist. He took a moment to arrange the bulk of their clothing to his satisfaction, and she felt herself come to rest more closely against his chest, between the lapels of his greatcoat.

"Comfortable? Warm enough?" he asked.

"Very tolerable," she said with another secret smile, and a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. Her smile faded as she thought ahead to their destination. Alone, the two of them. Truly alone, with all restrictions removed. It was so new and strange, wonderful and terrifying. "Where is everyone? I thought they would want to see us off."

"I think they are leaving us alone for a moment. Mrs Carstairs told me to come around to the front of the house before we depart."

"How very thoughtful." It had been a madhouse since they returned from the marriage ceremony, with the children set free from the schoolroom and running wild through the dining room, pilfering treats from the table laid for the wedding luncheon, shrieking and laughing. Their parents looked on indulgently and laughed along with them, but Julia had longed for peace in the midst of her nervous tension.

The older children - Harry who was almost fifteen, Anne at thirteen, Emma twelve and Richard eleven, had watched Julia and Colin with great interest and whispered amongst t
hemselves. The girls thought them very romantic, and sighed after handsome Mr Holbrook.

All the attention was oppressive for Julia, but Mrs Carstairs had no doubt noticed the
stiffness in her bearing and in her calm way directed her headstrong family to give them peace as they readied for departure. Such a kind woman.

Would Julia be so calm in the midst of such a tempest of little ones? Would she have a chance to find out? She did not know whether to hope or fear children would come soon. It was too much t
o consider in this moment.

Colin clicked softly to his horse and the animal swiveled her ears and stepped out willingly, unhampered by her double burden. As they came around the side of the house Julia saw Mr Carstairs had the children building snow men on
the front lawn, bundled up against the cold.

"There they are! Miss Preston! Mr
Holbrook!"

"They are Mr and Mrs
Holbrook now, Richard."

"Mrs
Holbrook. That sounds so strange."

"Will we see you soon, Mrs
Holbrook?"

"Will you come back to see us?"

Julia looked to the Carstairs for guidance, not assuming they would choose to mix with her and her new husband on a social level. But Mrs Carstairs did not disappoint. "We shall certainly invite them, Emma, and we hope they will come often to visit us. Do you know where you will settle?" She directed the last to Julia and Colin. Julia waited to hear what he would say.

"I expect we'll tour the various estates and Mrs
Holbrook will choose one she likes. Or perhaps the London house. My family seat has traditionally been at Mowbray in Dorset, but with no one left but myself, the ties are not what they were. Mrs Holbrook may choose."

"Well, Mrs
Holbrook, you cannot ask for a more congenial husband than that," said Mrs Carstairs, but though she smiled obligingly at them both Julia thought she was still unconvinced by Mr Holbrook's charm.

It
should be heartwarming to have such a staunch ally, but in this moment Julia would have preferred to forget her doubts and pretend everything was exactly as it should be between her and her new husband. She fixed a determined smile on her own face. "I'm sure we shall visit as often as we are invited, and you must certainly come and see us if we are all in the City together."

"Absolutely. Say good bye, children, and congratulatio
ns."

"Goodbye! Congratulations!" came the chorus, and there were more smiles and waves and little Beth was passed up for a kiss and a cuddle when she would not stop crying to see her Pressie go. Julia felt the small arms close around her neck and fought ba
ck tears. This family had made her so welcome in their absentmindedly genial way, it was a hard thing to leave that familiarity.

"Do you want to climb down and embrace them all?" asked Colin quietly in her ear.

"Best not to, or I'll turn into a watering pot. Let us go or I shall lose my composure."

"We can't have that," he said
with a joking tone, but he nudged his horse gently with his heels and they were in motion, with the Carstairs family's well wishes, hoots and calls audible for a long way down the snow-lined carriageway.

Julia leaned out and waved past the bulk of Colin's body several times, trusting to him to hold her steady.
"I'm sad to leave them."

"They do seem very congenial. Better than the Trents, I think."

"Yes. I'm sorry to say it, for I know the Trents are your friends, but I did not enjoy that position as much as I might have wished."

"Fortunate you were forced to leave, then?"

"I would not go that far," she said a little acidly.

"No. Of course not. I will say again I am sorry."

"As if you would change an instant of your behavior those weeks. I hardly think it likely, you are so incorrigible."

"I was unsteadied by your presence."

"You are unsteady by nature."

"You shall teach me to be better."

"It is a task altogether too great for my poor skills at management."

"With your superior intellect you will learn swiftly."

"You give me too much credit."

"Not enough, dear one. Never enough."

What was she to do, when he charmed her so? How could she resist him, resist falling ever further into helpless love with him? It was not possible to know him and keep her distance, keep herself safe. And she was determined not to spoil what they would have together, for as long as he was like this with her.

He became serious. "I will say I did feel outside of my
own control when I first met you, first came to know you. Yet I do regret you were discomfited. It must have been frightening to lose your position."

"Yes. Though I was also very angry. I could have happily dismembered you for your part in it."

"Very bloodthirsty."

"Yes. Better remember it if you think to annoy me again."

"I shall live in fear."

"See that you do."

He chuckled, and she leaned back against him, feeling at once secure and uncertain. One instinct warred with another. To trust him and depend on him, or maintain clear boundaries.

Her body was in no doubt. The shift of his big, strong form against hers, the breadth of his shoulders behind her, the rigid arm at her waist, all made her wish to melt and squirm against him. As she had the th
ought she moved, subtly, and the next instant he groaned in her ear.

"Best you not do that, sweetheart. I thought my control was equal to this task. I may have been wrong."

"I'm not sure what you mean," she said and moved again.

"Where is my strict and ste
rn governess? What have you done with her?"

"She is married."

"I see. And this makes such a difference?"

"I am a great one for adherence to the rules. I understand this is now permissible."

"God, yes. Only perhaps unwise, if you wise to reach our destination intact."

"Intact?"

"Hymen and all, sweetheart."

"What, here? In the snow? You are not so crazed."

"I might be. Or I might contrive a better solution that does not involve dismounting."

"Is such a thing possible?"

"Yes."

"Have you tried it?" she asked, a
note of warning in her voice.

"No."

"That is the correct answer."

"I thought so." When she stiffened against him he added, "Also the truth, happily."

"Happily indeed."

"Would you like to ride facing the other way?"

"I don’t see how that would work," she said, trying to imagine it.

"You would straddle me."

"I- Oh."

"Your dress would be hiked up."

"I imagine so."

"Your arms would go about me."

"That would probably be necessary, I should think. For balance."

"Yes."

"Would that not tempt the outcome you described a moment ago?"

"Arriving at our destination without your hymen, you mean?"

"That one. Yes."

"In truth, we have not far to go."

"It would present a very scandalous picture. I am not unknown in the neighborhood."

"You may hide your face in my neck."

"Are you trying to convince me?"

"I admit I like the idea. Between your coat and my own, I do not think much of you would be on display."

"Will your horse stand for it?"

"She is very well trained."

Julia sat still for a long moment, daring herself to do it, to try something new, to play with her husband of only a few hours, the game of his choice.

"Very well. But I do expect to arrive entire. I am not prepared to- To-"

"Lose your virginity on a horse?"

"Precisely. Ano
ther time, perhaps."

He had already halted his horse and started to rearrange her, but at this he paused and swore softly in wonderment. "Julia, sweetheart, you are entirely unexpected.
You
may make it to our destination but perhaps I shall not."