Chapter Sixteen
In two strides, Nathaniel reached Laura, the touch of his hands on her bare shoulders reminding her of the only thing that was right between them.
“Sweetheart, what’s this about? Have I ever criticized anything you’ve done?” Nathaniel laughed, which only made her more furious. “Why are you so angry at me?”
Laura fought for control, realizing that her anger stemmed not from their earlier conversation at all, but from the way he continued to hold her at arm’s length. She had foolishly hoped for more, and it was deeply disappointing. “Don’t attempt to humor me, Nathaniel.”
He brushed a damp strand of her hair from her cheek. “When you’re angry, your eyes flash like emeralds.”
She turned her face away, searching for some way to penetrate his remoteness. “Someone said that once.” Howard Farmer, after a heated debate at the university.
Nathaniel took her chin in his hand. “Who? Who was it?” His voice was mild, but his eyes narrowed.
Surprised at his reaction, she tilted her head. “You’re not jealous, surely?”
“I want to strike down every man who looks twice at you.” He gathered her into his arms, his voice thick and unsteady, sending a shiver through her. “You are very desirable, wife,” he whispered, kissing the soft skin beneath her ear.
Was this all she meant to him? Laura pushed him away. “I’m still angry with you, Nathaniel. You shut me out. It’s insulting. Don’t try to sweet talk me now.”
“Laura…”
“No!” She turned away from him, stalking to the other end of the chamber to put some distance between them, where she could breathe. Where she could think.
Nathaniel followed her. He slid an arm beneath her knees and picked her up. The display of manly strength robbed her of speech and fueled her frustration, bringing it to a fever pitch. “Put me down!” She struck ineffectually at his hard, muscled arm with her fist. Ignoring her protests, he walked to the bed and threw her unceremoniously onto it.
She lay there panting and stared up at him. A slight smile lifted his lips and warmed his gaze. “Does a quarrel inflame your passions, Laura? If so, I’m all for it, but for the life of me, I can’t think of anything to argue about. Although I wish to investigate your concerns, right now I’d much prefer to make love to you.” Placing a hand on either side of her head, he leaned down and took her mouth in a passionate kiss.
Laura pulled back. “This is the only way you know to resolve an argument.” But at the determined look in his eyes, a lurch of excitement ran through her like lightning, and helplessly caught, she traced her bottom lip with her tongue where he’d kissed her.
“It takes two to argue, my sweet.” He grinned, reading her like a book. His fingers circled the tips of her breasts. “My God, you have a fine body. You are made for love.”
“There’s more to me than this, Nathaniel.”
“I agree. So much more. You are intelligent, and I love how optimistic you are, how you grasp life with such passion. I am very grateful to have you for my wife, Laura.”
He was adept at pretty speeches. But did he love her? She burned to ask him. But demanding his declaration of love would render the words valueless. It must come from him willingly to be real. “You give me no chance to show those qualities when you reveal very little of your thoughts and evade my attempts to understand you.”
He inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Then I’m profoundly sorry you feel that way. I thought you were happy here.”
“I am happy here, Nathaniel. It’s just that…” Darn it, she couldn’t demand he tell her about Amanda now; it would sound like she was jealous of a dead woman.
“We shall talk, but right now, I want to hold you. May I? I have missed you.”
He trailed his fingers down her cheek and paused at her throat. The smile in his eyes contained a sensuous flame, but she glimpsed something else: a softness and vulnerability, as if he understood her and felt badly about it. She’d seen little of that since they came to Wolfram.
She narrowed her eyes, fighting to resist his appeal. “I’d like to hear more about London.”
“London was the same as ever, foggy and crowded. The bill failed to pass the House of Lords. Francis Bolton and I discussed our next move over too much wine. I retired early every night.” He kissed her cheek. “And I saw your parents.”
She hit him on the shoulder. “You saw my parents and didn’t think to tell me?”
He laughed and grabbed her wrist, pressing a kiss to her palm. “You’ve hardly given me a chance. I ran into your father at Westminster. As your mother had come to the city for a meeting of some sort, we caught up for luncheon. I was able to tell them that you were in good health and happy.” His gaze grew serious. “You are happy to be here, aren’t you, Laura?”
“I never want to be anywhere else on earth. Wolfram is my home now.”
“My darling.” Nathaniel kissed her ear.
“Are they both well?”
“Fighting fit, I believe,” he murmured, smiling down at her.
She lay back and raised her arms to draw him down with her. “Tell me more please.”
He laughed ruefully. “You should not do that if you wish me to continue our conversation.”
She tucked her hands under her head and grinned, enjoying her sense of power. “What are ladies wearing this season?”
A dark eyebrow rose. “Eh? You want me to speak of fashion?” He pushed back his black hair. The unconsciously graceful gesture made her want to pull him closer. She curled her fingers into her palms and resisted.
“I do.”
He stroked his slightly shadowed chin. “Let me see. Your mother wore a tobacco-colored coat with a fur trim, ermine, I suspect.” He smiled. “I particularly noticed the fur because I thought it impractical, and her large fur muff made me suspect at first that she’d brought along her Pekingese dog.”
Laura giggled. “And her hat?”
“I’m not good with such details.” He thought for a moment. “Black with gold trim, I think.” He waved his hands over his head. “More ermine somewhere on it. Entirely too much fur I would say, although I don’t confess to being up on the latest fashion.”
“Are corseted waists still in fashion?”
“I was pleased to observe many in evidence.” He lowered himself beside her, and his lips brushed below her ear. “Don’t tell me waists are in danger?” he asked, his voice husky.
Desire heated her blood. She should not let her handsome husband roam free in London. What was she thinking? Thoughts fled as his gaze settled on her mouth.
“Are we done talking?”
“Yes.” Her voice was barely a whisper, as she responded to his kiss.
“Have you missed me, sweetheart?”
“Yes.” If only he needed her as much as she did him. “Yes, Nathaniel, very much.”
She couldn’t maintain her anger and moved to bring him close in the way that worked, at least for now. She pulled at the belt on his dressing gown, and after he shrugged out of it, she pushed him back onto the bed, leaning over him, seeking to take the upper hand to gain some sense of power over him. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He lay acquiescent, allowing her to have her way. Even as she swept her hand over the smooth olive skin of his chest following the trail of dark hair down to boldly touch his arousal, she expected him to take control. But she had a way to surprise him with the knowledge gained from the book.
Laura kissed her way down his muscled stomach, and his soft dark hair brushed her cheek. How good it felt to kiss him there, his erection both silky and hard. Passion coiled deeply within her, her need for him tightening her stomach. Breathing hard, she gasped and rejoiced when his hands settled in her hair and he moaned. Amanda might have a claim on his heart, but in this earthly pleasure, at least, Laura sensed her power. In this bedroom, he was truly hers.
“That’s so good,” he murmured.
Growing in confidence and eager to learn what he liked, she ran her tongue along the hot length of him and took him in her mouth. He groaned, his arousal growing even harder beneath her fingers and lips.
Nathaniel suddenly pushed her away. He sat up, his dark eyebrows slanted in a puzzled frown. “Where did you learn to do this?”
He looked so furious and unapproachable. Did he believe she’d been unfaithful? Laura wanted to berate him, but she held her tongue, needing to understand what drove him. Was it Amanda’s behavior with Mallory, innocent or not, that made him so suspicious?
“It’s in a book.” She gestured toward the volume on the table beside the bed.
Nathaniel snatched it up. Turning the pages, his smile widened. “The Perfumed Garden!” He chuckled and shook his head. “My bewitching wife!” His heavy-lidded eyes gazed appreciatively over her naked body. “Shall we read it together? A different chapter every night?”
Thrilled by his response, Laura could only nod.
He seized her bloomers and pulled them down, throwing them on the floor. “We write our own chapter tonight.” He gently pushed her down.
He began to explore her body as if trying to commit to memory every small part of her. Murmuring her approval, she abandoned herself to the whirlwind of sensation.
“I love the soft skin on the inside of your thigh.” His fingers found the folds covering her sex. When he probed gently, he stoked the fire already alight within her until she bit her lip to keep from crying out.
“No. Please. I want to…” Averting her face to hide her blush, she eased him back and climbed astride him.
“Yes.” His eyes gleamed. “That’s good, sweetheart.” He pushed into her.
She had dreamed of being in some way completed by a man, but she had never imagined such pleasure as this existed. Leaning back against the pillows, he cradled her buttocks and rocked her against him. On her knees, Laura let all her defenses go. She rose and fell and directed her own pleasure, watching as raw need darkened his gray eyes. Their rhythm increased as she raised her hips to meet each thrust. She was growing close to that exquisite ending she sought when he withdrew. He moved her to the edge of the bed. Her legs cradled against his hips, he drove into her. She was barely aware of her mews of pleasure as he led her to the brink and she toppled over with a cry. Soon, he followed with a groan.
Nathaniel lay close to her, breathing hard. She rested her head on his chest, her quick breaths filled with the smell of his skin, his maleness mingling with his bergamot cologne, and listened to his slowing heartbeat.
“I rather like you in a rage.” He propped his head on his hand. “Now tell me what’s made you so unhappy.”
Her anger had fled as a deep, expansive warmth spread through her. Comfortable in his arms, she’d begun to wonder if she’d been unfair when he’d come home so exhausted. She sleepily talked of inconsequential things, leaving those more important matters for a better time. She could not destroy their closeness with intrusive questions now.
Her eyelids drooped. Fighting sleep, she tangled her fingers in the tufts of dark hair on his chest. Time might solve many of her concerns, although some did demand answers. Even though she sounded like an unreasonable, jealous woman to utter them. Did he visit Amanda’s room at night? Why did he keep Amanda’s bedchamber just as it had been when she was alive? Had he loved Amanda so desperately that he could never love Laura in the same way? Why did some of the villagers think him a murderer? She bit her lip and hated herself for being a coward, but she dreaded that this newly found closeness would evaporate, perhaps forever, if she learned the truth. Could he have been involved in some way with Amanda’s death? For him to fob her off and attempt to hide the truth from her would be the end. He’d said that one must trust the person they married. And despite everything, she did.
“None of this would be enough to upset you,” he said.
She took a deep breath and licked her tender bottom lip, swollen with his kisses. “I want to know the reason behind that urgent letter.”
“The letter? Is that what this is all about?” He seemed relieved as he rolled off the bed and slipped on his gown. “I’ve been looking for a man who used to work here. He has questions to answer about some stolen property. That’s all.”
“Who is he?”
“He was once my head gardener. Theo Mallory.”
Laura sat up. “But Mr. Mallory is here in Wolfram.”
Nathaniel looked up from tying the belt of his gown, his eyes wide. “You’ve met him?”
“He came to see you on the day I telephoned. He’s putting up at The Sail and Anchor.”
“I could do with a drink. Like one?”
“No, thank you.”
Nathaniel disappeared into his room. He came back cradling the crystal tumbler of brandy in his long fingers. “Did you speak to him?”
“Briefly. I didn’t like him.”
He scowled. “Was he disrespectful?”
“I thought he lacked manners.”
Nathaniel nodded. “That’s Mallory all right. I’ll seek him out tomorrow.”
“What has been stolen?”
“What has been stolen?”
He took a sip from his glass. “Nothing stolen from here, but goods were hidden in one of the estate cottages.”
“Why hide them there?”
“They were smuggled in by sea from across the Channel. I’ve had trouble before.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I didn’t expect it to occur again.”
“Mallory is behind it?”
“I suspected he was part of the earlier smuggling attempt several years ago, but the police couldn’t get anything on him. And then he disappeared.”
Laura’s sleepiness fled. She reached for her gown. “The constabulary will deal with him, won’t they?”
He threw back the last of the brandy and rose. “They will. It’s late. Go to sleep, sweetheart. I must catch up on some paperwork. I’ll go down to my study.”
“Do you often work there during the night?”
“Sometimes. I’m a restless sleeper.”
Laura wanted to ask him where he’d been on the night she discovered his bedroom empty and a light under Amanda’s door. She hesitated. The evening had begun so badly, but she refused to end it that way. “I hope you sleep tonight, darling. Good night.”
He feathered a kiss on her lips. “Sleep well.”
The door closed. Perhaps in time, as they grew to understand each other, any differences and misunderstandings might cease to matter. If he loved her. It would be too painful for her to stay in a loveless marriage, even though her mother would be outraged and would never understand should Laura leave it.
Laura washed and dried herself by the fire, then donned her nightgown and climbed into bed, pulling the blankets up over her shoulders. She breathed in a blend of Nathaniel’s sharp cologne, her flowery perfume and the heady odor of their lovemaking. Wrapping her arms around the pillow, she admitted she was as able as he to escape her troubled thoughts in lovemaking. Blowing out the candle, she lay in the dark recalling their conversation. Nathaniel would deal with this Mallory, of that she was sure. She yawned. She’d learned very little of what really concerned her but was now too tired to care. Tomorrow, she thought, drifting off to sleep.
***
After breakfast, Nathaniel left with Mr. Pitney to see to estate matters.
Laura walked with him to the stables and watched as the pair rode away to the home farm, the dogs at their heels. Was Nathaniel going to see Mallory? He hadn’t mentioned the man again.
Returning to the house, she went downstairs to the kitchen to consult the cook about the weekly menu. It hadn’t appeared on her writing desk in the morning room, which was a cozy chamber she’d appropriated for her correspondence since the weather had turned breezy and cool.
As she entered the kitchen, everyone came to attention. Laura was pleased to note that it looked orderly and clean. A tasty aroma rose from the oven. She was suddenly aware of the fuss she caused. The scullery maid dropped a pot she was scrubbing into the sink and wiped her face with a soapy hand, her eyes like saucers. A kitchen maid leapt up from destalking a colander full of berries and fell into a stumbling curtsey. The cook, Mrs. Madge, paused with flour up to her elbows and a rolling pin in her hand.
“Milady.” Mrs. Madge grabbed a towel and hurriedly wiped her hands.
“Good morning, Mrs. Madge,” Laura said. “I’d like to discuss the menus. It’s his lordship’s birthday in three weeks. We plan a celebration.”
Having thought it through during the night, she had discussed this with Nathaniel at breakfast. She suggested inviting the vicar and his wife, the two spinster ladies from Thrompton, Misses Parthena and Orpha Fairfax, Cilla, and another couple who lived some miles from the village who were friends of Nathaniel’s she had yet to meet.
“I don’t know about Cilla,” Nathaniel had said, after approving of her other suggestions.
“But why not Cilla?” She could not believe it was a matter of class. While Nathaniel’s rank lent him a certain air and consequence, he was never arrogant or snobbish.
“She may not be comfortable in such company,” he said. “But ask her if you must.”
“She can always decline.” Laura wanted a friend there, someone she knew.
“I’ll come right up and bring my receipts,” Mrs. Madge said. She put a hand to her white mobcap, her face lined with more than advancing years, perhaps some unknown sorrow. However, she was an excellent cook and confidently knew it.
“First, I’d like to inspect the wine cellars,” Laura said.
Mrs. Madge’s eyes widened. “Oh! As you wish, milady.”
Laura resisted a smile. Rudge generally presided over the choice of wine, but this was her first dinner party. It was going to be special. Her father had taught her a good deal about wine as she was growing up.
She followed Mrs. Madge’s black bombazine back along a stone passage and down a short flight of steps. The ceiling lowered and the granite walls seemed to close in. Laura held her skirts up above the damp floor, breathing in the musty air. Beyond the wine cellar, the steps continued down into a black well.
“Where do they lead to?” Laura asked.
“The cellars. There’s a door at the very bottom, opens out onto the water’s edge, milady, but it’s a long, damp walk and is seldom used.”
They entered a cobweb-strewn cavern filled with shelf upon shelf of dusty bottles of wine.
The young kitchen maid who had been preparing the berries appeared. She clutched her apron. “Mrs. Mallory, what should we do next with the pie?”
“Leave it, girl,” Mrs. Madge said crossly. “I’ll return in a moment.”
Laura widened her eyes. “You’re Mrs. Mallory?”
Mrs. Madge nodded. “I’m not called by that name here. The lass is new from the village.”
“Are you a relative of Theo Mallory?”
Mrs. Madge wiped her palms on her apron. “He’s my son.”
“I met him recently.”
The cook put her hand to her cap. “He’s a man you can trust, milady. He won’t cause any trouble here.” Her face creased into lines of distress. “He never did.”
Laura turned away to examine the bottles. “This for the meat courses, this for the fish, and this will be perfect for the dessert wine.” Remembering her father’s elaborate dinner parties, she chose Chambertin Latour champagne. She trailed along the rows and chose another, a sauterne, while dying to question the woman further about her son.
“I’ll make a note of these, milady. And tell Rudge.” She sounded as though it was the last thing she wanted to do.
“Thank you, Mrs. Madge.”
Mrs. Madge shifted her feet and clutched her apron in her hands. “If that’s it, milady, I’d best return to my pie.”
Laura stood aside for the woman to pass through the doorway. “You must be pleased to see your son again.”
Mrs. Madge halted, one foot on a step. “He should never have lost his position here. The gossips brought it about, of that I’m fair sure. Vicious they were, saying he was mixed up in that business.”
“My husband would never act upon gossip, Mrs. Madge.” What business was the cook referring to? Did it concern just the smuggling, or had Nathaniel been jealous of how closely Mallory and Amanda had worked together?
“Not normally, no. He’s a good man, milady, but…”
Laura paused at the door. “What is it, Mrs. Madge?”
“I understand that his lordship was overcome by grief, milady. I fear it affected his judgment. He thought the worst of poor Theo, even though there was no evidence. And my son had to go off to find work elsewhere. A very talented gardener he is too, milady.”
Mrs. Madge put a hand to her scarlet cheek, apparently realizing the inappropriateness of her comment. “If I don’t get back, that green girl will do something silly, and there’ll be no dessert for luncheon. If you’re finished here, milady?”
“I am, thank you.”
“I’ll have that menu up to you in a trice, milady.” Back in her kitchen, Mrs. Madge regained her confidence with a brisk shrug of her shoulders. “I’ll consult Mrs. Beaton’s receipts for suitable dishes for your dinner. But I have some lovely ideas of my own.”
“I’m sure you do. Thank you, Mrs. Madge.”
Laura returned to the ground floor thinking there were two different Theo Mallorys: the one Laura had disliked on sight and the one Mrs. Madge thought she knew. But mothers always loved their sons no matter what they did. Laura knew she would be the same. She prayed every night for a baby. Her mother had commented on the lack of news in her last letter. She’d expected a healthy girl like Laura to fall pregnant quickly. Laura sighed. A child would help banish the sadness of Nathaniel’s past. It would be like a new beginning.