Chapter 7
Brightmore Manor, 1830
Arden worked late every night. Sometimes he was called to the village for a difficult birth or a broken limb, but mostly he read his ledgers and balanced his budgets for each business he dabbled in. Frequently he would take a medical book or journal to his bed to read before sleeping.
Before putting out the candles in his bedroom, he would put on his silk robe and open the adjourning door to his wife's bedroom and watch her sleep for a moment. He loved to see her with her cloud of silky hair billowing out around her peaceful face. With the shadows of light her hair appeared white, much like he imagined an angel's might be. She didn't braid it like so many women did at night, and he liked it free and tussled. He wanted to run his hands through her lovely hair and feel the texture, but soon enough he would. She preferred sleeping on her side with one hand tucked beneath her chin. Her mouth would be slightly open with just a breath of air coming out. The first time he came into her room to check on her seemed like what you might and should do with a child just to make certain they were all right. But then he discovered he liked to gaze on her and he would imagine holding her in her sleep. Invariably his thoughts would cause problems for him in trying to sleep for himself later when he went to bed. But he would do it again and again without thought of that. It was such a pleasant and magical sight. It felt right having her in this room.
Tonight he had read in bed until he couldn't focus anymore and got up to check on his wife as usual. He opened the door and as the light from his room spilled into her darkened room he noticed her bed was empty, the covers pulled back as if she had been in bed. His eyes scanned the room looking for some sign of her, but she was not there. He looked to the side table by the bed and noticed the candle was gone. Where had she gone at this hour? Was something wrong?
Perhaps she went to the kitchen for something…or maybe the library for a book was more likely. He closed her door and took a candle from his room to start down the stairs in search of her. He passed the stern faced portraits of his ancestors which was a reminder to him how opposite he found himself to them and their beliefs. He sometimes actually felt their disapproval of him. He liked to smile and shake his head in denial of any harm they could do him now.
The library door was ajar and light spilled out. He didn't want to startle her so he walked softly through the doorway and looked around the room until he found what he sought. His mouth dropped open in surprise…and perhaps shock too.
Amy was draped across a chair facing his desk. She was unconscious…perhaps asleep, but better inspection gained him another suspicion. One of his crystal glasses lay on the floor, her finger tips stretched just above the glass as if the glass had rolled from her fingers. Her head lay against the back of the chair, her hair in disarray with a lock landing dead center down the front of her face. Her mouth was slightly open in a sensual pose that was kissable. But it was the book opened on her lap that drew his attention. It was that scandalous little book he had fun with as a young boy. He broke into a smile as he noted the page she had open. The little minx. She was foxed.
Arden took a quick glance at his decanter and saw that she must have had enough to fox her senseless. He carefully removed the book from her lap and shook his head in memory. He noted the page that had caught her interest. He chuckled to himself. That book had been adventurous to Bradley and himself. Not only had they studied the illustrations, but had actually taken it to a brothel and challenged some of the prostitutes to matching some of the positions with some live entertainment. He set the book back in its place and glazed at his wife. She looked properly mussed like she had been well loved. Quite arousing to say the least. At this moment he regretted his promise of a wedding and more importantly waiting to sate his sexual appetite.
He picked up the crystal glass and returned it to the tray that held the decanter of his best brandy and laughed to himself. This wife was quite the amusement. It would not be boring with her in his life. How beautiful she was. How unpretentious. That in itself made her appealing to him.
He scooped her up against his chest and threw her easily over his shoulder. He blew out the candles and picked up his and made his way up the stairs. She was light even when totally unconscious. He began to wonder what she thought of the little book. If perhaps it was shocking to her or interesting. That was something to think about. He had a broad smile on his face as he made his way to her room. Shaking his head and chuckling the entire way, he had not had anything that tempted him to laugh outright in quite some time. He lowered her to the bed and removed her silk wrap. He tucked her feet into the covers and drew the quilts up to her chin. He leaned down and kissed her sweet mouth ever so softly. Ah, she was such a seductive morsel. It was taxing on his control -- that was certain.
“Sleep well, my love,” he whispered. Before turning to leave, he ran his fingers though her thick silky angel hair and drew it away from her face. She smelled of lavender and soap. He inhaled the scent that was Amy. Yes. she would do, perfectly.
****
The sun streaked into Amy's room and the warmth woke her to a headache big enough to feel like her head was cracking open. She groaned as she opened her eyes to see her maid Daisy leaning over her with concern.
“His Grace mixed this foul brew himself and instructed me to have it here for you the minute you woke, Your Grace.” She helped fluff the pillows and added one behind Amy as she sat up with a groan.
“I'm afraid I have a terrible headache Daisy. I don't think I can drink that terrible smelling brew...” Daisy did not hesitate in her goal to put the glass to Amy's lips.
“Now you don't want me to lose my position do you Your Grace?” Daisy asked. “I have selected a dress for you to wear when you meet the dressmaker. Miss Balston is already dressed and she had her breakfast too. She was asking about you,” Daisy added as she watched Amy sip the drink creating a face like she had sucked a lemon. “Now, drink it all or it won't work.”
“I feel like I've been poisoned,” Amy said as she finished the drink and handed the glass to Daisy as if she couldn't bear to touch it any longer. And then suddenly it struck her. She gasped as she thought of what happened last night.
Oh my, she thought. I drank those spirits and that is the last I remember. No, actually there was a naughty little book and for goodness sake, what happened to that? How did she get into her bed? She had no memory of walking up the stairs and putting herself to bed. She blushed as she considered the possibilities. Oh, my.
“What is it, Your Grace? You look like you've seen a ghost,” Daisy asked with concern.
“I just thought of something…I mean I guess I had better hurry and dress,” she said as she kept thinking of last night and that wicked little book. Arden. What if he had brought her to bed? Then he saw the book and …how could she face him? What would she say? Maybe he will bring it up…oh no. How would she live through this? How humiliating. Could she have come to bed herself and not remembered? After all she drank spirits she wasn't used to…not bloody likely. She sighed at the thought of picking up some of the colorful expressions she had learned since being in England. They did suit the occasion.
As Amy dressed with Daisy's help she also thought of the little book and the illustrations. She would never get them out of her mind. How did she get herself in such fixes? It was humiliating. She was hot all of a sudden. That book caused her so much trouble.
Mademoiselle Le Meniere was an energetic woman of her middle ages. She had flaming red hair, a robust figure and the personality to match. Mademoiselle filled the room with a boisterous greeting. Millie and Amy were awestruck and watched the drama unfold. An army of assistants came into Amy's parlor adjoining her bed chambers with fabric samples and books of fashion designs, baskets full of notions, ribbons and laces. Amy had sent for Eva taking on her power as a duchess to proclaim a new wardrobe for the child too.
“Ahhh…Your Grace. It is indeed a pleasure to meet you. Are these other ladies to join us?” Mademoiselle asked as she looked at Millie and Eva, already assessing their coloring and size.
“Yes, Mademoiselle. May I introduce to you Miss Balston who is my companion and my …ah…daughter Eva. Amy added looking at Eva whose eyes grew wide and a huge smile and delight spread across the child's face.
“It is indeed a pleasure to service all of you. I have brought to you the best fabrics available and His Grace has insisted on a complete wardrobe. It will be a pleasure to design for you. You have a figure that will make my work famous and your hair, it is such an unusual color. I believe I should like to put silver and pale rich color on you, Your Grace. His Grace has specified a bridal gown to be finished by Sunday…I don't know if I will get it all done, but I have hired more assistants and of course, anything for His Grace can be done.”
The afternoon was full of measuring, pinning, looking at fabrics and designs and trying to keep Eva happy until her measurements were taken. Millie matched the energy of Mademoiselle and it was all exhausting. There would be fittings the next day and Amy was not sure if she could bear another session. Mademoiselle was quite opinionated and finally Amy gave up and allowed her to make many of the decisions. Millie was to have several new gowns and she was excited over the colors and styles selected for her wardrobe. Even little Eva would have some new clothes, although Eva was well taken care of as Amy learned each day. Arden was very caring and loving with his daughter.
Bonnets, gloves, capes, camisoles, fans and other accessories were ordered, and even under garments and night rails were discussed and designed. Amy's head was spinning. Every time she questioned the amount of gowns, Mademoiselle would scold her. She was a duchess, after all and needed to dress the part.
Mademoiselle was delighted with dressing Eva. Eva had red hair like Mademoiselle and Mademoiselle was telling Eva how red hair was such a special gift from the Gods and the colors to choose from for this unique colored hair was very important. Eva was enchanted with her stories and guidance regarding color.
Amy dressed carefully for dinner. Mademoiselle had a gown that was partially sewn when she had arrived and was now complete. With her new stays cutting an inch off her waist and her hair beautifully styled in the latest fashion she was eager to see Arden's reaction at dinner. She took the stairs carefully so as not to trip on her skirts. The gown was soft rose silk damask with tiny rosettes scattered around the hem. The bodice was fitted to show off her full breasts that were shown as two soft mounds peaking over the plunging neckline. She had no jewelry, but none was needed. Instead she had a cream colored velvet ribbon tied around her neck. Large white-blonde ringlet curls bounced from the back of her head and barely touched her slender shoulders. Daisy had artfully wound matching ribbon in her hair. The color of the dress made her lips appear the same rose color, her skin pale and her cheeks blushed with excitement. Amy's blue eyes sparkled with happiness as she anticipated Millie's joy at seeing the gown. Millie was to have some gowns that were designed for her dark chestnut hair and darker coloring, but none would be ready until the day before the wedding.
Amy stepped over the threshold of the dining room to find only Arden sitting at the table. He instantly stood as she entered and looked surprised and then his eyes took in her entire ensemble scanning her body from head to toe with something that seemed like hunger and then settled on her face. He looked at her with appreciation and something else she couldn't determine. His eyes seemed to grow darker than the usual green. A smile slowly grew as he nodded his appreciation at what he saw.
Amy looked around the room, but the table was set for two. They were alone. She looked at Arden in confusion.
“You look ravishing, Amy,” Arden said as he pulled out a chair to his right for her to sit. His brows drew together in a frown that showed concern. “Do I make you nervous, Amy?”
“I thought…I mean, where are Millie and Eva?” Amy asked as she sat and Arden adjusted her chair to the proper distance from the table.
“They are dining with Mademoiselle Le Meniere upstairs.” Arden nodded to the footman for wine to be poured and the dinner to begin being served to them. Arden had seated Amy to next to him instead at the other end of the long table as was customary. Arden picked up his wine and held it up for a toast.
“To my lovely wife. I am indeed a fortunate man.” He drank a sip and watched her as she studied him trying to determine his mood. His gaze was penetrating as if he could see into her very soul. “How are you feeling, my dear?”
“I am well…” And then she remembered last night and the headache this morning. She blushed as she thought of the book and the possibilities of what had transpired. The food was being served and she sat quietly looking at her food trying to think where this would go. The soup was in front of her, but she didn't pick up her spoon.
He still held his glass of wine and quirked one dark brow in question. His lips were forming a seductive smile. A knowing smile.
She waited for the footman to leave the room so that they were alone. “Is there something you want to say, Your Grace?” she bravely asked.
Arden chuckled in a deep timbre. “There's nothing wrong with curiosity. I myself studied that book when I was a boy.”
She quickly looked up and caught his eye, narrowing her own in suspicion. “You were a boy when…”
Arden slowly nodded his head. A slow knowing smile came next. “Perhaps we might experiment…”
Amy choked on her spoonful of soup and when she took a breath, she choked more. It had gone down the wrong way and she struggled to overcome the coughing fit.
Arden stood up and came behind her chair with efficient speed. She was red in the face not only from choking, but from trying to capture her breath. “Damn it, Amy,” he said as he quickly and adeptly unbuttoned her bodice to her gown in the back. The tiny buttons had always been cumbersome, but he seemed adept at efficiently getting them unbuttoned in a minimum amount of effort.
My goodness, thought Amy, he must have experience as a ladies maid. Arden unlaced her stays skillfully. “Why do you have this damn contraption laced so tight? A woman can't breathe in these unhealthy, miserable, confining gadgets. Did you know that you rearrange your God given organs by binding this item of torture too tight? How would you like your liver forced into your chest? Hmm? You don't need to lace this up so tight you can't breathe or better yet, don't wear one at all for that matter. Your figure is perfect. I'll shoot Mademoiselle Le Meniere.”
After unlacing the stays, he buttoned her gown back up and sat back down at the table. “I apologize if I upset you. But I find that the condition I found you in last night was…you were quite foxed, my dear.” Arden smiled as he caught a glance of Amy struggling with her composure.
It was not an everyday occurrence to have your bodice unbuttoned by a handsome man with his fingers working their magic as if he did this service a thousand times. Her mind was now somewhere else as she tried to get herself back from the exotic adventure. It was too much. Her experience last night was more than enough and now being undressed at the dinner table. She wanted to crawl under the table. For the love of God, she must get control over herself. He seemed to be teasing her and yet he was serious. He obviously felt strongly about the whale bone stays for goodness sake. She almost smiled in amusement, except for the embarrassment of it.
“Please, I don't want to speak of it. Besides I just swallowed the wrong way…it was not my…my stays,” Amy said softly looking down in embarrassment. Not only was she embarrassed about the book and her over indulgence in drinking spirits, but now he has just adjusted her corset. He had done it so skillfully…like he did it every day. Could things get any worse? Her face felt on fire. “I know men enjoy…ah, that is…I will do my duty, but I don't wish to be embarrassed.”
Arden stopped smiling. He thought about what she said for a moment. “So, you do not think you will enjoy our marital bed?” he asked. “A duty is all it is?”
“I don't need to enjoy it even if it were possible. As I said, I will do my duty.” She took another sip of her soup, confident she had made herself clear on this matter.
A sly smile again came with no effort and then he chuckled. Then the chuckle exploded into a deep rich sexy laugh that made her uncomfortable. “I am up to the challenge my dear.”
“Why do men always think they are being challenged, for goodness sake? I am just being realistic and honest. I don't expect anything…thus I won't be disappointed. It is as simple as that.”
“Ah. I am glad we cleared that up. But, sweetheart, it is not simple at all. I will enjoy showing you.” His amusement was difficult to contain. His eyes were bright with humor and tiny crinkles on both sides of his eyes were validation of his frequent expression of humor.
“Please. I don't wish to speak of this anymore.” Amy was in over her head. She was not used to sparing with a man. And Arden was a large confident man experienced in life and sparing it seems.
Arden then grew serious which was an effort on his part. He could not remember a time he was so entertained.
“What should we speak of? How are the wedding plans coming?” Arden asked, changing the subject. The soup was removed and the next dish of pheasant with rich cream sauce was set in front of them. Amy waited for the help to leave again before picking up their conversation.
“Mrs. Tanner has arranged a breakfast celebration here after the ceremony. There will be Millie and the Duke of Somerset…and of course, Eva. Some neighbors and people from the village, of course…and the servants here at Brightmore. It is a small celebration.”
Arden was watching her. She was talking, but not concentrating on what she was saying. It was as if someone else was talking and she was a character in a play watching it all unfold. When she would glance at him, he was watching her too intently, reading more into what was being said. It annoyed her. She was overcome with thoughts of last night and what he must think of her. She just wanted to crawl under a rock. That's what she had coming for being so wicked. She stopped talking for a moment and there was an awkward silence. He had stopped eating and was just looking at her.
She tried to read his mood and couldn't. “Stop playing games with me. Stop making me your amusement…like I'm some ridiculous clown for your enjoyment.” She surprised herself with the outburst so unlike her. But she stood her ground. She was rattled. Heavens…her corset felt too tight and she was breathing like she just ran a long distance.
Arden quirked a brow at her and smiled seductively. “I apologize for making you uncomfortable, Amy. And you are right. I was quite amused.”
“Don't apologize if you don't mean it,” she snapped back and caused him to set his fork down and look at her closely.
“You are making sport of me…” Although she was angry now, tears were threatening to appear, and she nervously wiped her eyes with her napkin trying to stop the dam from bursting. Why couldn't she get control over her emotions?
Arden didn't have a great deal of experience with young sensitive women. His preferences had been more mature widows. Women who were confident and polished. But they were also pretentious and flirts too. He decided he liked Amy better, but wasn't sure how to proceed. She had an honesty about her. He had apologized, after all. Evidentially it wasn't enough. He stood up and bent over to her and kissed her cheek softly. “I am truly sorry I have offended you, sweeting.” He sat back down and picked up his fork. He was sincere. He put his heart into the simple apology.
That was more than she expected. Why did he have to be so reasonable and nice? Amy burst into tears, the dam broke. It was too much. He was too nice. Finally having the sincere apology was enough to break her veneer.
Arden pulled out a monogrammed handkerchief and handed it to her. She took it from him and blotted her noise and eyes. “Let us talk of something else entirely…something that won't create…”
“Perhaps you would like to accompany me to talk to some of the tenants tomorrow. Have cook prepare some baskets for some of the tenants. I like to take them some fruit, or cheese, sometimes meat too. But you can decide.”
Such a simple gesture on his part. But it lit up her face with such excitement that Arden felt guilty for keeping her excluded from his tasks. She took such joy in other people's pleasures after all. She looked at him as if he were a God, for pity's sake. He enjoyed having the ability to create such happiness for her. So why did he take such delight in taunting her? And he did…that book was an example. He should leave it by her bedside…there it was again. He couldn't help himself. He sometimes acted like he was twelve. What was it about her? The teasing was just a natural reaction he experienced when he was around her.
But his thoughts were interrupted. “I would love to go with you, Arden. It will be such a great adventure for me.” She nearly bubbled over with this small offer.
For God's sake, he suddenly felt like the worse curd. He should be courting her to gain her favor, not hauling her around on his errands. He should give her flowers and jewelry like any other self-respecting gentleman. But she was happy over the simplest of things, and a man was fortunate to have a woman not only willing to help and be with him, but she also didn't seem to be interested in jewelry as her favorite thing to have.