Читать книгу Wicked Captain, Wayward Wife - Sarah Mallory - Страница 11

‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered here…’

The little church at Makerham was packed. Evelina stood, eyes modestly lowered, and wondered how she had come to this. A month ago there had been no thought of marriage in her head, then Nick Wylder had ridden into her life and changed it for ever. A month ago she had not known of his existence; now she could not imagine life without him.

With the exception of a few days when he had been obliged to go to town on business, Nick had been her constant companion at Makerham Court. They rode through sun-dappled lanes, walked in the gardens and in the evenings they played cards with Sir Benjamin, or Eve would sit in the corner with her embroidery while the two men talked or played backgammon together. Nick’s energetic presence filled the house. Eve woke every morning with a little thrill of anticipation, knowing he would be waiting for her. They talked for hours, although she had little recollection of what they talked about. Occasionally they would argue, and it would end with Nick pulling her into his arms and kissing her. She had never known such happiness. It was especially gratifying to see her grandfather’s approval of her future husband and not even the business of the marriage contract upset this happy state of affairs; Sir Benjamin talked to Eve with smug satisfaction about jointures and settlements and Eve did not press him for details: it was enough for her that he was happy.

And now they were in Makerham church, standing side by side, exchanging marriage vows. A fairy-tale. Some might say it was too good to be true. Eve had to keep pinching herself to believe in her good fortune. Nick’s brother, the Earl of Darrington, came to act as his groomsman. Eve thought he looked rather disapproving, but his greeting was kindly enough and he even kissed her hand when she came out of the church on her husband’s arm. Her husband. A frisson of excitement trembled through her.

‘So, you are my sister now.’ The earl smiled, lightening his rather sombre expression and all at once looking much more like Nick. ‘Welcome to the family, my dear Evelina. I look forward to the day when I can welcome you to Wylderbeck Hall. It is a long way north, but Nick will tell you it is well worth the journey. I wish it was not necessary for me to leave immediately after the wedding breakfast, but so it is; if Nick had given us more notice of your nuptials we would have had time to become acquainted—’

‘And have you cut me out, brother?’ put in Nick. ‘I wanted to make sure of my lady first!’

The earl’s smile was a little strained.

‘Take care of her, Nick. And bring her north very soon, that she may meet the rest of the clan.’

‘I should like that, my lord.’ Eve cast a questioning look at Nick.

‘I will bring her to you as soon as I can, brother. Our plans are a little uncertain for the moment; we will be staying at Makerham for a few weeks yet.’

‘My grandfather’s health is not good,’ explained Eve. ‘The wedding has been a great effort for him, although he was determined it should be held here.’

Nick put his hand over hers. ‘I said I would not take you away from Makerham until he is better. You have my word on that.’

She nodded and leaned against him, drawing comfort from his presence at her side. They both knew there was little chance of her grandfather growing stronger. She did not wish to consider the more likely outcome, but it was there, unspoken, and Nick understood. The message was in his eyes now as he looked at her. They would not leave Makerham while Sir Benjamin had need of her.

‘I am only sorry that more of your family could not be present,’ she said later, when they were standing at the entrance to Makerham Court, ready to receive their guests at the wedding breakfast.

‘Do not be,’ laughed Nick. ‘They would have turned our little celebration into a riotous occasion! Darrington is the serious one, the rest of them are rakes and rabble-rousers, as you will see when I take you to Yorkshire to meet them!’

‘I am sure they are not as bad as you make out. Indeed, there are some from my own family that I would as lief not see here,’ she murmured, directing his attention to a tall, heavy-browed gentleman who was approaching them. She raised her head, saying more loudly, ‘Captain, may I introduce to you my cousin, Mr Bernard Shawcross?’

Mr Shawcross swept off his hat and made such a deep bow that his nose almost touched his knees.

‘We have met in town, Cousin. Let me tell you, Captain Wylder, that you have stolen the march on me, it was always my desire to wed my lovely Cousin Evelina.’

She gave him a honey-sweet smile. ‘A pity then that you did not apprise me of the fact, Cousin.’

‘Ah, but I did not wish to deprive Sir Benjamin of his most devoted companion,’ came the smooth reply.

‘Oh?’ she murmured, ‘from the number of times I have read your name in the society columns of the London newspapers I thought you were far too busy chasing heiresses to think of me. A pity that you have been unsuccessful thus far, Bernard.’ His mouth tightened in displeasure and her smile widened.

‘Mere gossip, Evelina,’ he replied shortly. ‘I am surprised you should take note of such tittle tattle.’

‘And have you come directly from town today, sir?’ asked Nick.

Bernard Shawcross shook his head. ‘I am currently staying with friends near the coast. I regret, Cousin, that I have engagements there I cannot break and will be returning to Sussex in the morning. I shall leave you my direction, in case you need me.’

‘Thank you, Bernard, but I can’t think that we shall ever need you,’ she murmured wickedly. ‘However, let us not quarrel; I bid you welcome, Cousin. We are delighted that you have graced our wedding with your presence.’

‘It was the very least I could do, Evelina, even though the event has taken place with—er—indecent haste.’

Her smile widened at his obvious annoyance.

‘We are merely following Grandpa’s wishes,’ she returned, coolly. ‘Have you spoken to him yet? No? Then perhaps you should do so now, while he is free.’ She added quietly, as he turned on his heel and stalked away, ‘It would do you no harm to play the dutiful heir once in a while.’

Nick drew his breath in with a hiss. ‘Remind me never to get on the wrong side of you, madam wife,’ he murmured.

‘At one time Bernard was forever calling at Makerham, asking Grandpapa to advance him loans against his inheritance. Thankfully he has not called at all for the past year, so I can only suppose that he has learned to live within his means.’

‘That, or he has found an additional source of income,’ observed Nick. ‘You will note that his coat is of the very finest cut: such tailoring only comes at a price.’

‘I do not care how he comes by his money as long as he stays away from Makerham.’ Eve shuddered. ‘I cannot like him, his manner towards me has always been…possessive, and I dislike the way he fawns over Grandpapa, as though his well-being is his only concern, yet when he leaves he never writes to enquire after Grandpapa’s health—but perhaps I refine too much upon it.’

‘You need not concern yourself with your cousin any longer, sweetheart. I will not let him trouble you.’ Nick squeezed her fingers. ‘Come, my dear, our guests have all arrived now, I think we may take our places at table.’

They feasted in the great hall, which had been decorated for the occasion with garlands of summer flowers. Even though she was the bride, Eve was also the hostess and it was her duty to announce the wines for the diners and to direct their attention to the cold meat dishes and salads available on the sideboard. She also had to watch the servants to make sure no guest was neglected. With so much to do it there was little time for reflection. It was not until the meal was ending that she allowed herself to think about the coming night.

Her wedding night.

‘That went off very well, I think,’ declared Sir Benjamin as the last of the carriages drove away. ‘I do wish, however, that we had invited at least some of our people to stay here.’

Eve came to stand beside his chair.

‘You know we would not have been able to accommodate more than a few of our guests—and we should have been obliged to offer Bernard a room; you know how much you would dislike that.’

‘You are very right, my love. They will be a deal more comfortable at the White Hart. Ah, and here is Rooney come to take me to my room. Goodnight, my dear, Captain Wylder. Such a tiring day, I shall sleep well, I think.’

As she watched her grandfather leave the room, leaning heavily upon his valet’s arm, Eve knew a moment of panic. For the first time that day she was alone with her husband. There had been no awkwardness on previous evenings; she had merely bade him goodnight and they had gone their separate ways, but tonight she knew that the oriel bedroom had been prepared for them. It was the principal bedchamber in the house and legend had it that Henry VIII had slept there. On Sir Benjamin’s instructions it had been cleaned and the huge tester bed furnished with new bed linen. Eve had a sudden, wild fancy to ask Nick if he would like to play a game of backgammon.

‘We should retire,’ he said gently. ‘Your maid will be waiting to put you to bed and Richard will be looking out for me also; we must not disappoint them.’ He took her hands and lifted them one after the other to his lips. Even that small gesture made her knees grow weak. ‘Off you go, my dear. Send word when you are ready for me.’

She found Martha bustling around the oriel bedroom. Her new linen nightgown was laid out on the bed. It looked pale and insignificant against the blood-red velvet of the bedhangings. Eve shivered.

‘Martha, I don’t know what to do,’ she whispered, desperately.

Her maid chuckled. ‘With the two of you smelling of April and May ever since Captain Wylder arrived? You will have no problems, Mistress. Leave it all to the captain. Now then, Miss Eve, let me help you out of your gown.’

Send word when you are ready, Nick had said. Perhaps she need not send for him at all. She thought wildly that she would lock the doors and spend the night alone, but she knew that would not do. In the event it was not her decision. Once Martha had put her into her nightgown and arranged her hair becomingly around her shoulders, she gathered up her clothes.

‘There. You look as pretty as a picture, mistress. I will send word to the captain that you await him. Shall I light the candles before I leave you?’

‘No.’ The summer night was drawing in, but it was not yet dark. ‘Leave them.’

Outside the open window Eve could hear a night bird singing. Her nerves were on edge and every sound seemed louder, sharper.

I’m not ready for this, she thought suddenly. Nick Wylder is a stranger. She wrapped her arms about her, closing her eyes to conjure his face in her mind. She pictured him smiling at her with that warm, understanding look in his eyes and her panic subsided. Nick was no stranger. In her heart she had always known him.

Nick stood in the doorway and regarded the little figure by the window. She had her back to him, and her head was bowed as if in prayer.

‘Eve?’ He spoke her name quietly.

She jumped and turned. The light from the window provided a gleaming halo for her hair as it flowed down over her shoulders. He could see every curve of her body through the gossamer-thin nightgown. The sight inflamed him, rousing the desire he had kept under control for the past four weeks. His breath caught in his throat. By heaven, how he wanted her! As he crossed the room he saw how nervous she was. He felt a desperate desire to tell her everything, but he dare not. Not yet. He must control himself, play for time. As long as they did not consummate the marriage then he could set her free, when it was all over and the danger was past. He would explain why it had been necessary to marry her in such haste and then, if she still wanted to be his wife, so be it, but it must be her choice. He owed her that much. He reached out and placed his hands gently on her shoulders. Her eyes, dark and luminous in her pale face, looked towards him for reassurance. His mouth was dry; suddenly he was anxious. What if he broke her heart?

‘Eve, we do not have to do this tonight…’

She put her fingers against his mouth. ‘I want to, Nick. I want to, very much,’ she murmured, then with her hands on his shoulders she reached up and kissed him.

Nick felt the touch of her lips and he was lost.

Evelina marvelled at her temerity, yet when she had seen the concern in Nick’s eyes her own doubts had fled and she had desperately wanted to comfort him. She felt his arms around her and her own crept about his neck. As Nick kissed her back with increasing urgency her lips parted and his tongue explored her mouth, flickering and teasing and stirring up the hot fire that burned deep in her belly. He was wearing a brightly patterned dressing robe, but through the heavy silk she could feel his body, hard against hers and she experienced a heady, exhilarating sensation of power even as he swept her up and carried her to the bed. She kept her eyes on his face, marking every line and shadow, the purposeful curve of his lips and the deepening colour of his eyes—they were almost black as they looked at her now and she trembled at the passion in their depths. He laid her on the covers and she reached up for him, wanting to kiss him again, but he resisted while he untied the belt of his robe. Eve’s eyes widened as he shed the heavy satin. She had expected him to be wearing a nightshirt and the sight of his naked body surprised her. Nervously she ran her tongue over her lips. Nick lowered himself gently on to the bed beside her, measuring his length against hers, propping himself upon one arm while he ran his free hand gently across her cheek.

‘You are so beautiful,’ he murmured. ‘More than I ever imagined.’

Eve swallowed hard. ‘So, too, are you,’ she managed to say with a shy, tremulous smile.

He bent his head, capturing her lips again while his hands moved over her, caressing her body through the thin nightdress. Eve’s own hands were exploring too, running over Nick’s arms, stroking his shoulders, tracing his spine. His body was smooth and firm beneath her fingers, the muscles rippling beneath the skin. His kisses deepened and her own desire mounted. She wanted to be closer to him; even the thin muslin of her nightgown between them was too much. She broke away and sat up, scrabbling to drag off the last scrap of fabric that separated her from Nick. After a heartbeat’s hesitation he helped her, his breathing as ragged as her own. As she raised her arms to drag the gown over her head she felt his hands capturing her nakedness. Collecting up her breasts, he buried his face in their softness. Gasping, she freed herself from the flimsy material and they fell together on to the covers in a tangle of limbs.

Nick’s lips moved back up her body, slid over her mouth, his kiss urgent and demanding while his hands on her skin caused her body to writhe out of her control. She threw back her head, shuddering with surprise and delight as his hand moved between her thighs, gently easing them apart. She arched beneath his questing fingers, moving against them, not knowing why, only aware of the ache in her groin and the pleasurable sensations he was arousing deep, deep within her. He kissed her neck; she felt his lips briefly on her collar-bone, then they fastened over one erect nipple and she gasped. The pleasure was so heady and intense that she thought she might faint. She was soaring, flying and falling all at the same time. Her hands gripped him, fingers digging into his shoulders as the first spasm shook her, then a second. She knew a moment’s panic as those pleasuring fingers eased away and Nick rolled over and entered her. She gave a little cry and he froze. Desperately Eve pushed against him.

‘No, no, do not stop,’ she gasped.

She heard him give a shaky laugh. ‘I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to.’

The blood was pounding in her ears, singing through her body as they moved together. The wave of pleasure had receded, but it was building within her again. She matched her movements to Nick’s, running her hands over his muscled back, keeping pace with him as the tempo increased, the heady wave building and building until at last, when she thought she might die of pleasure, it crested and broke. She heard a cry, but did not know if it came from her or Nick. He tensed and tensed again before they subsided together, shuddering and gasping for breath.

They lay side by side on the silken bedcovers, fingers entwined. The daylight had gone now, replaced by a fine silvery moonlight that cast a magical gleam over their naked bodies.

‘Nick?’ Eve raised herself upon one elbow and looked at him. Her heart lurched. Could this handsome man really be her husband? Was it possible that he could love her, that she could satisfy him? She gently brushed her hand across the scattering of crisp black hairs that grew on his chest. ‘Was—was that how it is meant to be? Was it, I mean, was I—?’

His hand came up to trap hers against his chest. He grinned at her. ‘You were magnificent, Eve. I am a very lucky man.’

She flushed with delight. He reached up, hooked his fingers around her neck and began to pull her down to him. ‘In fact,’ he whispered, ‘I think we should try that again, just to be sure…’