Chapter Five
Rain clouds threatened on the day of the wedding, held at St Margaret’s in Westminster. Laura’s mother expressed her displeasure, but even Mother had no control over the weather.
Laura was thrilled with her gown. It was not what her mother wanted, but her parent was in a conciliatory mood and agreed to the style Worth proposed. The gown of ivory champagne satin damask had a floral pattern in satin on the boned bodice, with short sleeves of Micheline lace. Laura’s hair had been drawn back into an elegant chignon and cream rosebuds adorned her veil. Her bouquet was of cream roses and pale pink peonies. Cousin Georgina, Laura’s matron of honor, and Phoebe, another cousin, held up her long train. Both women wore deep rose pink, their wide-brimmed hats laden with pink roses.
Three hundred guests including the prime minister and other notables attended. Laura walked down the crimson-carpeted aisle on her father’s arm to the strains of the “Bridal Chorus” from Wagner’s Lohengrin.
Handsome in his gray morning suit and top hat which matched his eyes, a boutonniere in his lapel, Nathaniel stood at the altar with his best man, Horace Tothill, an old friend from university, and his two groomsmen, Ambrose Chesterfield and Phillip Dunn. Nathaniel’s side of the church was filled with friends and associates, as he had no relations; he was an only child and his parents were both gone.
“You are breathtaking.” Nathaniel’s silver-gray eyes and dazzling smile banished her nervousness.
Laura handed her bouquet to Georgina and took her place beside him. With a squeeze of her hand and an encouraging murmur, her father stepped away. In a sonorous voice, the minister began.
When the ring slid on her finger and they were pronounced man and wife, she smiled into Nathaniel’s beautiful eyes with a bubble of joy.
Laura clung to her new husband’s arm and laughed up at him as she and Nathaniel emerged from the vestry.
The rain, which had been threatening, arrived as they attempted to leave the church. Everyone scattered as the downpour filled the gutters. Filthy brown water overflowed and spread across the pavement. Laura hesitated on the step, holding up her train.
Nathaniel scooped her into his arms. He ran across the wet pavement and deposited her in the carriage, then followed her inside.
Smoothing her skirts, which had suffered only a little water damage, Laura smiled at him. “You are my gallant hero.”
The laughter faded from his eyes. “I hope to be.”
The reception was held at the Savoy Hotel in the Strand where they were to spend the night. In the columned, gilt-mirrored ballroom, Laura danced the wedding waltz with Nathaniel, the train of her gown over her arm, his gaze bathing her in admiration. Having made up her mind to marry him, she had not questioned her decision again. On the previous night, she had slept soundly and had woken filled with joy and a sense of purpose.
How strange. Although she hardly knew Nathaniel, she felt, as she believed he did, that they were destined for each other. She had not banished all her plans and resolutions, however. She knew herself too well. Her studies might lie in the past, but university had given her a thirst to continue broadening her knowledge and to be tested in other ways. Nathaniel had said his wife would have many duties. She was keen to embrace them, but women were forging careers in England, and she wanted to be a part of it. She would tell him when the time was right.
The best man, Horace Tothill, claimed a dance. “You have married a good man, Lady Lanyon.”
“I know it, Mr. Tothill.” She had judged Nathaniel entirely by instinct, dismissing rational thought, and didn’t doubt that she was right.
“Once in Wolfram, you may hear something to the contrary. If you do, I hope you will continue to believe in him.”
Surprised, she stared at the attractive, fair-haired man. “I would like to ask what you mean by that, Mr. Tothill, but I suspect you won’t tell me.”
He smiled. “It must come from Nathaniel. He has chosen well. You seem a calm, patient woman.”
Laura nodded. She was not by nature the soul of patience. With so much lying ahead of her, she shelved his advice away for when it might be useful. But it left a whisper of unease behind.
The wedding breakfast over, Laura stood on the bottom step of the hotel staircase and threw her bouquet. She was glad when her favorite cousin, Phoebe, caught the posy. When the last of the guests departed, Laura slipped upstairs to their suite to change. She sent Mary back to Wimbledon with her wedding clothes, then came down to join her parents for a farewell drink in the hotel dining room.
Her father drew Nathaniel aside for a brief conversation. Laura tried to hear what they discussed, but they kept their voices low. She kissed her mother, who held her against her soft bosom. “You’ve done very well, Laura, and made us proud.”
At last, I’ve done something right. She hugged her father and kissed his bristly cheek.
He winked at her. “Have a grand life, Lady Lanyon.”
Lady Lanyon. Laura drew in a breath. She was a baroness and had left her father’s protection forever. Upstairs in their suite of rooms, her handsome husband would make love to her. She welcomed it but shivered with anticipation.
“You’re not cold, my love?” Nathaniel asked.
“No.” She searched his eyes for a sign that she was his love. That it was not merely the overused endearment she feared. After a whirlwind courtship, they hardly knew each other. But she was determined to make him love her as dearly as she knew she would love him.
Tomorrow they departed for Cornwall, and heaven only knew when she would see her family again. It was with a mixture of excitement and trepidation that Laura took Nathaniel’s hand, and they mounted the stairs.
Entering their hotel suite, Laura crossed the green and gold Savonnerie rug. The room’s elegance had pleased her when she’d come upstairs earlier with Mary to change. The pastel floral drapes at the windows matched the wallpaper, the furniture of rosewood. The half tester bed had made her quiver with nerves.
Her nightgown, frilled and tucked with lavish ribbons, lay on the green satin bedcover. Laura spun away as her heart beat madly. “We have our own bathroom.”
Nathaniel tipped the hotel page. He removed his gray tailcoat before opening the bottle of champagne just delivered, pulling the cork from the bottle with a pop.
Laura removed her hat before the mirror. Her trunk had been sent on to the railway station. Tomorrow’s ensemble hung in the closet with a change of underwear, her toiletries on the dresser.
Nathaniel handed her a glass of champagne and clinked his against it. “To my beautiful wife.”
Laura was glad of the champagne. She toasted him in return. “To my gallant husband.”
She hadn’t dared drink wine at the reception, not under her mother’s gaze. Laura had been afraid it might go to her head. The champagne was delicious, dry and fizzy. She drank deeply, hoping it would settle her nerves.
“Your maid will help you undress. It’s been a long day. You must be tired.”
“I’ve sent Mary home. She prefers to remain here close to her family. I shall have to find another lady’s maid.”
“Dorcus is a good maid,” Nathaniel said. “But perhaps not quite to the standard you’re used to. She will do until you can find another.”
Laura longed for him to kiss her. What had happened to the man who had pursued her with such passionate intent? He seemed restrained. Was this how husbands behaved?
He flicked open the buttons on his gray satin waistcoat with his long fingers. His broad chest strained against his shirt as he undid the top button and pulled off his cravat. His movements were unhurried, while his gaze remained on her, making her tremble. She wanted him to sweep her up, carry her to the bed and ravish her before the fear set in that she would disappointment him. She wished she’d questioned her friends at university more closely.
She put down the glass and went to the window. “Oh look! The Thames. How magnificent it looks from here.”
“I have seen the river. I want to see you. Come here, sweetheart,” Nathaniel said from behind her, his hands on her shoulders.
He sat on the upholstered chair and drew her down onto his lap. As she leaned against him she could feel the rapid beat of his heart. Was it a sign that he was as moved as her, that he desired her?
“I hope I can make you happy.”
“You do make me happy,” she said, surprised. She’d been so concerned about pleasing him; she hadn’t thought he might have similar concerns.
“Cornwall will be different to anything you’ve known.”
She smiled. “I certainly hope so. Mother can no longer order me about. It’s a heady thought.”
His laugh rumbled in his chest. Looking up, she saw that his eyes had cleared of some indefinable worry.
She stroked his chin, feeling the beginnings of stubble. “Soft,” she said, “and prickly at the same time.”
“I am cursed with a heavy beard.”
He smiled and his arms tightened around her as he began to talk of his home, Wolfram, the ancient abbey and the tiny fishing village that bore its name, the deer-filled woods and sea, the soul and the heart of the Cornish coast. It touched her deeply when his voice grew gruff with emotion.
Laura waited for him to mention Amanda. She was filled with curiosity about his first wife. Did her loss still hurt him deeply? But of course, he did not. She would have to be patient. With that thought, she vowed to banish his sadness with the force of her love.
“It’s growing late, and we have an early start in the morning.” He rose with her in his arms and set her on her feet.
His touch upset her balance, and she placed her hand against his chest as he began to remove the pins from her hair, gathering them up in his big hands. He placed them neatly on the bureau. He was an orderly man, she realized as her fiery tresses swung heavily to her waist.
He gathered the locks in his hands. “Beautiful. Streaks of gold amid burnished copper.”
“Mother complains I go out in the garden too often without a hat.” Laura held her breath when he turned his attention to her clothes.
Nathaniel’s quiet intensity made her terribly unsure. He helped her out of her jacket, and then unbuttoned the pearl buttons on her blouse. Stripping the exquisite pin-tucked, lace-trimmed garment from her, he laid it over the back of the chair. Her skirt and petticoat pooled at her feet, and she stepped out of them.
He seemed very much at home with women’s clothes. But as a married man of course he would be. Her mind reeled. Had he sought feminine company since…? She knew of the high-class brothels in London where men of his ilk visited beautiful women practiced in the art of lovemaking. Eavesdropping on her father’s conversations had proved fruitful, but now she wished she hadn’t. Would Nathaniel like her body?
“Turn around, sweetheart.” His fingers burned their way down her back as he unlaced her corset. The new pink lace affair fell away, and she pulled her camisole over her head. Shy about her naked breasts, she bent to untie her satin garters, then sat hunched over to remove her stockings. In her haste, she snagged the silk as she rolled a stocking down her leg.
“Bother,” she muttered.
“Allow me.”
She leaned a hand on his shoulder as he knelt, his fingers warm against her thigh. She couldn’t resist threading her fingers through his dark hair, shot through with amber lights. It was silky to the touch. With a smile, he handed her the other stocking, then went to the bureau to remove his cufflinks.
Intent on climbing under the covers as quickly as possible, Laura pulled off her lace-trimmed bloomers and scampered into bed.
Nathaniel turned as he slipped his braces off his shoulders. A smile warmed his eyes. “In bed already? Don’t you wish to use the bathroom?”
“I’m all right for the moment,” she said in a tight voice.
He sat on the bed, as if to reassure her. “You’re a lovely woman, Laura. Really quite beautiful.” He dropped a quick kiss on her lips, his rough chin rasping against her cheek. Then he drew away, running his hand over his jaw. “I need to shave.” He disappeared into the bathroom.
Every nerve in her body alert, Laura lay back on the pillows. She would not sleep a wink tonight.
When he returned some minutes later smelling of soap, she smiled at him, having settled with the covers drawn up to her neck.
“Don’t hide yourself from me,” he said. “I enjoy looking at you.”
She liked looking at him. He had a broad chest with a mat of dark hair tapering to his waist. He was beautifully proportioned and had obviously lived an active life. Well-defined muscles rippled with each movement beneath smooth olive skin. New brides might swoon at moments like this and reach for their smelling salts. Laura had no such intention. She had never seen a man without his clothes.
After Nathaniel’s trousers joined the rest of his clothes, she tucked her hands between her legs, discovering the heat and need there. He walked over to the bed completely unaffected by his nakedness. Were men always thus?
She’d grown rather hot and swallowed. “I might have a bath.”
His eyebrows rose, and a wry smile lifted his lips. “Very well.”
She grasped her nightgown to fling it over her head. “I, um…won’t be long.”
He tugged the garment out of her hands as the blankets fell away. Laura lay exposed to his gaze, fighting the urge to cover herself. “What a lucky fellow I am to have such a beautiful wife.”
“I’m a lucky woman.”
“Ah, Laura,” he murmured. “Go. Have your bath. Put on your nightgown if you must.” He stretched out on the bed, as she hastily threw her nightdress over her head and ran across the carpet.
“Are you all right in there?”
Laura had brushed her teeth, bathed and dried herself, adding a dab of perfume. Wearing her nightgown, she hovered before the mirror, splashing cold water on her cheeks that embarrassment had made rosy. “I’m coming,” she called. He must be completely out of patience with her.
She returned to the room to find he’d turned off all the lights except one lamp. She warmed with a rush of gratitude. He lifted the covers for her, and she slipped into the bed. “I’m sorry I was…”
She gasped against his lips as he brought his mouth down on hers. When he drew away, she thought he was smiling but wasn’t sure in the dim room.
“This is pretty,” he said, fingering the lace of her nightgown. “Shall we remove it?”
Nathaniel pulled it over her head and gathered her close, running his hands over her back and hip. At his touch, a pulse throbbed deep inside, and her breathing quickened. She loved his warm skin against hers when he took her mouth again in a long, passionate kiss, their breaths mingling, his invasion of her mouth incredibly intimate. He tasted of sweet wine. His gentle hands on her body left a trail of sensation. She gasped as he softly stroked her most intimate place. The rush of pleasure his skillful fingers produced brought a moan to her lips.
He took a nipple in his mouth. She couldn’t help a mew of pleasure. Warmth pooled at the base of her stomach. Nathaniel turned his attention to her other breast with an appreciative moan. Laura’s body throbbed and she was having trouble gaining her breath.
The room filled with the sound of their raspy breathing. She traced her fingers from the soft, dark hair on his chest, down over his flat, hard stomach, but faltered somewhere near his bellybutton. Nathaniel held her hand and guided it onto himself. His skin was hot and silky and so hard it made her quiver. A flood of moisture gathered at her core.
“I’ll be gentle.” He kissed the hollow at the base of her throat. “Your first time might be painful.”
She tensed, but she wanted him so much, she closed her eyes to hide her nervous excitement from him.
“Look at me, sweetheart. I want to see your beautiful eyes when I make love to you.” He spread her thighs and settled between them. Trying not to stiffen, Laura clutched his shoulders as he nudged her entrance. She whimpered at the burst of pain as he pushed inside. He paused. “All right?”
“Yes,” she whispered, rather unsure, but determined not to fail him.
The pain eased as he began to move within her, stirring up emotions she could not have imagined and could barely comprehend. If only she could relax, she was sure she would enjoy it more. She loved the smell of him, the weight of him, his smooth skin and soft hair beneath her hands and the profound closeness she felt when joined with him in this intimate act of love.
Love? She pushed the thought away.
Nathaniel kept up a steady rhythm, stirring up a needy, demanding sensation in her stomach. He groaned and withdrew, leaving her unfulfilled and on the verge of tears.
He kissed her then stroked gently down her body to the sensitive, hard nub throbbing at her core and circled it with a finger. When she cried out at her release, Nathaniel kissed her. He put his arm around her and settled them back on the pillows. She laid her head on his shoulder.
“Not too uncomfortable?”
“No,” she whispered. She wished she could tell him it had been wonderful. But the experience had not been as fabulous as the women at university had led her to believe. Her limbs seemed leaden, her eyes difficult to keep open.
He stroked a long finger down her cheek. “You will come to enjoy it more, I promise.”
Nathaniel had been considerate of her needs, an attentive lover. To be joined in that intimate way with him, to belong to him was extraordinary. She was quickly falling in love with him. If only he had communicated his love for her. She supposed she had hardly inspired it. When she’d thought of their lovemaking, she’d never envisaged lying like a lump while he did all the work. She would learn to be a good lover, she thought with a resurgence of determination. Lying here against him she felt deliciously warm and safe. She pushed her concerns away as sleep claimed her.
Laura opened her eyes to daylight. Nathaniel was already awake watching her. He pressed a light kiss to her mouth. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.”
He propped his head in his hand. “How are you, sweetheart?”
She smiled. “Hungry.”
“Then let’s have breakfast. We have a train to catch.
“I can’t wait to show you Wolfram.” He kissed her briefly again and leapt out of bed, leaving her oddly lonely. “Care to use the bathroom first?”
She still felt shy. “No, you go first.”
He’d said their lovemaking would be better the second time. Her tiredness had vanished, and she was keen to try, but admitted she was sore and needed a bath. She admired his naked body as he crossed the bedroom toward the bathroom.
“That’s where our life together will really begin,” he said as he closed the door.
***
Nathaniel stood in the hotel’s ornate bathroom lathering soap over his chin. Poor girl, what kind of a future had he given her in a moment of weakness? He would never be able to give fully of himself or to give her what she needed. His lips firmed, and he finished shaving, bent to splash cold water onto his face then gazed at his reflection. His eyes darkened with regret. What had he done to her?
When he emerged from the bathroom, Laura had slipped on a negligee, a modest thing with dainty embroidery. She perched on the edge of the bed, a brave smile on her lips, all coltish bare legs as she put on her slippers, her red hair tumbling forward around her shoulders. She had given up so much for him. Compassion gripped him. He would do everything in his power to protect her.