The Unexpected Bride (12 page)

Jewkes was in the farmyard when they arrived and was extremely proud that the Earl had brought his new Countess to be introduced. ‘Proud to meet ye, milady. My Martha’s in the ’ouse. Come y’ in to meet ’er. She’d be that sorry to miss ye! Take my arm, milady. Ellen tells us ye’re blind but once ye know the way ye never forget!’

‘I’ll wait with the horses, Tom, and not intrude on Martha,’ said Peter.

‘Why, she’d not think it a trouble, milord!’ expostulated Jewkes, but Peter insisted, thinking that the two women would talk more easily without him.

Tom Jewkes rejoined him a moment later. ‘Goin’ along like winkin’, they are! Cheers Martha up to have a visitor, not that she’s gloomy, but we’ll both be glad when it’s all over.’

‘Hoping for a fine lusty son, are you, Tom?’ asked Peter.

The farmer thought about it and said, ‘Well, in a manner of speaking, yes. But bein’ a farmer ye get so used to wantin’ a heifer, it’s hard to break the habit! And I’ll tell ye summat, milord, I’ll be glad whichever it is just so long as Martha’s all right! And so will you be when it’s your turn, if ye’ll forgive my speakin’ so bold!’

Peter gripped his shoulder and the conversation turned into agricultural topics.

Presently Penelope appeared at the kitchen door and Gelert, who had waited with Peter, bounded across the
yard to her side. She placed her hand on his collar for him to guide her to Peter and Jewkes.

The latter was highly impressed. ‘Ellen said as how ye had a dog to be guide ye, which I couldn’t believe, but Martha says if a dog can herd sheep and cattle, why not guide a human?’

‘He is very good at it,’ said Peter. ‘And now I think we should be getting back for our nuncheon and letting you get on with your work, Tom. We’ll call again to see how Martha is going on. Mind you let us know if you need anything.’

‘Oh, Mr Jewkes,’ said Penelope. ‘I told Martha that I would send Ellen over for a few days when she is…confined. Just send a message when you need her.’

The farmer flushed. ‘Why, milady, I know Martha will be easier in her mind if she knows that. Thank ye.’

Penelope smiled and said, ‘It’s nothing, Mr Jewkes. I know I should like to have my sister with me, and so I thought Ellen had better come. Goodbye.’

Peter lifted her into the carriage and leapt up beside her. They drove off at a spanking trot, Peter negotiating the turn out of the yard with ease. ‘That was kind of you, Penelope. I know how much you depend on Ellen.’

Penelope was silent for a moment, and then said, ‘Martha is so glad to be having a child, but I thought she sounded a little scared. She didn’t say much but I know she was glad when I said Ellen would be coming over.’

They drove on in silence for a mile, but it was not an awkward silence. Peter was thinking of his wife’s generosity in volunteering to do without her maid. He realised guiltily that he had spent so little time with
Penelope recently that she must be doubly dependent upon Ellen for company. Yet she never complained, although she had admitted that she found her blindness to be frustrating in company. But, no! It was not the actual blindness which had bothered her but people’s reaction to it. What had she said?
They annoy me by being pitying and patronising
…

Almost without thinking, he asked her, ‘Penelope, what frustrates you most about being blind?’ She did not return an answer immediately and he said gently, ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. Forget it.’

‘I’m not offended, Peter,’ she said, laughing. ‘It’s just that there are so many things which frustrate me that I didn’t really know where to start!’

‘But you never say anything!’ he said in surprise.

‘Well, what good would it do?’ she answered. ‘I suppose the thing I miss the most is reading. But even then my family were always happy to read aloud. Reading music too. My sisters used to help me to learn new pieces. Sometimes we would learn them together. One of them would practice and I would learn the piece by ear! They helped me to learn lots of poetry by heart too, so it’s always there when I want it.’

Peter suddenly understood fully just what a leap of faith she had taken to marry a total stranger for the sake of her family. He felt a surge of tenderness for her, an urge to look after her. Transferring the reins to one hand, he slipped his arm around her shoulders and said, ‘Well, I can’t help you with new music, but I can certainly read aloud to you!’

‘But I don’t wish to make demands on you!’ protested Penelope, trying to ignore the odd fluttering of her heart as she felt his hand caress her shoulder.

‘My sweet, it is merely a fair return for all the plea
sure your music gives me! I often listen outside the door,’ he admitted with a smile. ‘I love music, you know, Penelope.’

‘I…I thought it would disturb you!’ she said in surprise.

‘The only thing that disturbs me is that you won’t let me sit down in comfort to listen!’ he said. ‘I have to skulk around the door because you always stop if I come in, you silly child.’ He gave her a light hug and returned his full attention to his horses. The last thing he wanted was to tip his wife into a ditch because he couldn’t keep his hands off her!

Penelope did not know what to say. She could not understand his change of mood. Not that he was ever unkind or rude. Simply distant, so that she hesitated to approach him. Did he really wish to be friends now? Or would he revert to his formal coolness? It was lovely when he was being kind and approachable. Then she felt that there was nothing she could not ask him. But be careful, she warned herself. Just respond to as much as he offers, when he offers it. It occurred to her that it would be easier said than done to switch her feelings on and off.

Falling in with her abstracted mood, Peter drove home swiftly. He did not resent her silence, rather it was refreshing to drive out with a woman who did not feel obliged to fill up every moment with chatter. He hoped that he had managed to at least partially bridge the chasm he had created.

‘Gelert seems to have enjoyed his run,’ said Peter, as they walked into the Great Hall. ‘We must take him out more often, I think. Did you enjoy yourself my dear?’

‘Yes, I did, thank you, Peter. Gelert is used to more
exercise. P…Papa and I used to drive out together.’ The slight hesitation told him how much the loss of her father had hurt.

‘You miss him very much, don’t you?’ asked Peter, touched.

‘Always. We were very close, you see. But I am glad now that he died when he did. He would have been so ashamed of what Geoffrey did.’ She turned and faced him. ‘I have been meaning to apologise to you for his behaviour, but I just didn’t know how to bring the subject up…’

‘There is no need, Penelope. I was also at fault for not calling a halt to that damned game of dice when I had the chance. Don’t give it another thought, I beg of you.’

Penelope went into her nuncheon feeling much easier in her mind over the whole matter. Perhaps things were finally sorting themselves out, she thought hopefully.

The rest of the day passed peacefully. Penelope spent the afternoon in the stillroom, helping her housekeeper to sort out and dry herbs. Her mind drifted over the morning’s drive and she wondered again why Peter had suddenly become friendly. Perhaps he was just moody, she thought. Then, as she relived the visit with Martha Jewkes, another possibility occurred to her. He wanted an heir, didn’t he? Was all this kindness a ploy to get her into his bed willingly? She blushed at the idea, but the more she thought about it, the more likely it seemed.

Having reached that conclusion, she examined her own feelings. She had to admit to herself that she was fond of her husband, despite his recent coolness towards her. In fact, if she were honest with herself, she
liked him very much. He was unfailingly polite to her, and the respect and liking she had observed in his tenants were indicative of a fine man. Finally she came to her physical reaction to him. When he touched her in any way she enjoyed it. The time he had kissed her in the garden she had not wanted him to stop. Why had he stopped? Should she not have kissed him back? Had she disgusted him? Perhaps he didn’t find her attractive but felt he must do his duty and beget an heir!

She took extra care over her toilet that evening, asking Ellen to dress her in a gown of dark green silk which had arrived from London. Ellen had taken great pleasure in describing all the lovely new gowns which had been ordered. They all suited Penelope’s colouring perfectly, setting off the glowing curls and the fairness of her complexion.

By the time she joined Peter for dinner Penelope was so nervous that she had withdrawn behind her barriers again. Peter noticed the change immediately and set himself to drawing her out once more. He teased her about the suspicions her brief letter had aroused, suggesting ways they could reply to Sarah’s letter when it arrived. Gradually Penelope relaxed, forgetting her worries and simply enjoying her husband’s company.

For his part Peter was more than content with his companion. His eyes dwelt appreciatively on her slim figure, not missing a single curve. The silk of her gown clung to every contour and he thought with pleasure of the softness of her body when he had lifted her into the carriage. Mellow candlelight caught highlights in the dark red hair, which seemed to glow with an inner fire. The memory of the sweetness of her
mouth was a constant temptation, but he controlled himself nobly. Surely it could not have been quite so yielding, so responsive!

After dinner they sat in the drawing room and Penelope played the piano for him. She played with a sensitive touch and Peter listened with real pleasure. His bride never ceased to amaze him with the things she could do for herself, despite her blindness.

By the time she had played through a Haydn sonata he had come to a decision. He could wait no longer; he wanted her so much it hurt. Surely after a month, he told himself, she would not mind! After all, he had warned her that he wanted an heir.

Penelope finished the sonata and stood to close the piano. Peter went to help her. Standing so close to her was too much for his self-control. His hand caught her wrist and he pulled her gently but inexorably into his arms. Startled, Penelope froze, instinctively turning her face up to his.

Peter felt her stiffen. His conscience told him to release her, but the sensation caused by holding her against him made short work of this gentlemanly impulse and he pressed his lips firmly upon hers. One hand slid up her back while the other caressed her throat and cheek. For a moment Penelope fought the urge to respond, but when that wandering hand moved to stroke her breast she gave an involuntary moan of pleasure and yielded to his embrace, slipping her arms around his neck to cling to him.

Peter felt her response and tightened his arm to support her. Her lips, so incredibly tender and soft under his, parted slightly and, unable to resist the temptation, Peter slid his tongue into her mouth. He groaned as
he fully tasted her sweetness. Dear God, he thought wildly, I could take her right here on the floor!

His hand slipped into the bodice of her gown and Penelope thought for a moment that the world had turned upside down. Her whole body trembled and she wondered if she were about to faint. The straying fingers in her bodice teased and caressed the tender flesh, his mouth possessed hers completely.

He released her mouth, only to murmur against her cheek, ‘Penny, I cannot wait much longer. I want you in my bed. Do you understand?’ He took her mouth again, gently at first, then more insistently as his desire for her took control. Scarcely knowing what he was doing, he lifted her in his arms and carried her effortlessly back to the sofa. He sat down with his wife nestled in his lap to continue his assault on her already weakened defences. Again his hand slid into her bodice and he stroked the velvety flesh as his mouth moved over her throat, making her shiver in delight.

Penelope was lost on a sea of sensation; his hands and mouth were igniting a blaze which threatened to consume her utterly. She stroked his face and returned his kisses shyly, unsure of herself. Peter felt a surge of tender affection. She was so sweet and lovable in her innocence, he thought. Then, realising that he was about to lose control of his emotions completely, he suddenly released her, saying harshly, ‘Penelope, I think you should go up to bed now. If you do not I cannot be responsible.’ His hands were shaking as he put her from him and stood up. He told himself that he didn’t want to rush her, but in truth his own feelings were frightening.

Penelope couldn’t believe her ears. What had she done wrong? Confused by Peter’s rejection, she stood
up slowly and moved to the bell pull. She heard Peter cross swiftly to the door, heard it open and slam as he left. Her body still trembled from his caresses. She yearned for more. Why had he left? He had said he wanted her. Surely he hadn’t thought that she was unwilling! Unable to answer her own questions, she pulled the bell and waited for Meadows.

He came almost immediately. ‘Meadows, please send Ellen to me in my room. I am ready to retire for the night.’

‘Yes, milady.’

Slowly, sadly she went out of the room with Gelert and made her way through the house to her bed-chamber. She wondered where Peter had gone. Probably the study, she thought. It was his refuge and she never sought him out there.

When Ellen came she found her mistress abstracted, even depressed. This was surprising; Lady Darleston was generally very cheerful. Tonight she was not at all inclined to talk, indeed she seemed close to tears. Ellen had been told already that she would be going to stay with her sister and was very grateful to her mistress for thinking of this. She chattered gaily as she brushed Penelope’s hair and readied her for bed. Perhaps the mistress had disagreed with the master over some matter, she thought as she put away clothes.

‘Goodnight, milady. Come along, Gelert,’ said Ellen as she prepared to leave. She noticed that the connecting door was open and wondered if she should shut it. No, if the mistress and master had argued it would be better to leave it open. You couldn’t make up through a shut door!

Penelope lay in her great bed, feeling frustrated and depressed. She was quite sure she had annoyed Peter
by responding to his advances so willingly. Well, then, next time he kissed her, she wouldn’t respond. At least, not if she could help it! She was obliged to admit to herself that it might be very difficult not to respond to her husband’s sensuous embrace. His mouth and hands were so very persuasive, she thought as she drifted off to sleep. Perhaps she could simply pretend not to enjoy his advances!