Page 9 of A Whisper Of Desire (The Disgraced Lords #4)

“I forget that you have not been to The Vyne in Hampshire. My estate is rather immense, actually. The family seat was built in the sixteenth century, and you could get lost for days in the various wings. It has a Tudor chapel, a rather large summerhouse, and a lake too. It’s beautiful. I look forward to showing it to you.”

He was about to open the door when Marisa pulled at his arm. “But we stay in London until we have caught this woman? Arend mentioned you’re needed. I want her caught sooner rather than later. I don’t want her doing anything to Helen. I would hate my sister to have to face my fate.”

This time it was he who stiffened. She immediately apologized. “That did not come out properly.” Her hand tightened on his arm. “I’m sorry, I just mean I want her to have choices.”

At her apology, a bad humor descended upon him, and he didn’t understand why. Marisa was right. This marriage was not of her choosing. “We’re both tired. Let us retire for the night and we can discuss our way forward once we are both refreshed in the morning.”

Brunton, Maitland’s longtime butler, was the first to greet them, bowing respectfully as Maitland escorted his wife through the front door.

“Your Grace, welcome to Kenwood House. I hope you will find all at Kenwood to your satisfaction.”

She gave Brunton one of her dazzling smiles, and Maitland saw Brunton immediately fall under Marisa’s spell. “I’m quite certain the house will be immaculate and the staff all consideration.”

“As the evening is late and I knew you would be tired”—Brunton stole an anxious look at Maitland—“I suggested Her Grace might like to wait to meet the staff until the morning.”

“Thank you, Brunton, an excellent idea.”

As Marisa removed her bonnet, he watched her admiring the opulence of his home. He took pride in his homes. Like everything he undertook, he expected not perfection but precision. Everything functioned in his home and there was a reason for every item.

Marisa did a slow pirouette in the foyer. “Gas lighting, very modern.”

“Far more efficient and easy to use than candles or lamps. You don’t have to carry anything anywhere.

” He indicated she should precede him upstairs.

“Brunton, have a bath drawn for Her Grace.” He addressed his wife.

“By the time you’ve finished, your trunks should be unpacked.

Would you like a light supper afterward in your rooms? ”

She shook her head as she walked up the stairs in front of him.

She appeared nervous, her fingers fiddling with her gown, something he noted she often did when anxious.

They had not discussed sleeping arrangements in the carriage, and he realized the closer they got to his rooms the more nervous she became.

What had she been thinking, agreeing to marry a man she didn’t really know? As she climbed the stairs she felt his eyes upon her. Soon he would see even more of her. He now had the right to do whatever he wished to her, with her . . .

Her mind cast back to last night and seeing him lying half naked in that bed. He had been quite beautiful to look at, but the idea of lying naked next to him, letting him touch her, kiss her . . . She wasn’t ready. It was too soon.

They reached the landing and suddenly panic had her struggling to breathe. She stopped and tried to draw in deep breaths.

“Are you all right, Marisa?” her husband asked.

Struggling for composure, she said, “I don’t know where to go.”

He came up beside her and took her hand from where it fidgeted with her dress, and pushed gently past her to lead her down a gaslit corridor with inspirational artwork along the walls. She noted the walls contained no family portraits.

Soon they came to a room where the door was open, and she saw a man inside folding cravats into a tallboy. What immediately drew her eye was the massive four-poster bed dominating what was a masculine room, obviously Maitland’s bedchamber. It reminded her of Sebastian’s bedchamber.

She suspected, as with her brother’s marriage, Maitland would expect her to share his bed. Beatrice rarely, if ever, was known to sleep in her room.

This is where her husband would take her and make her his wife.

She briefly closed her eyes. She was not ready. To her relief, they didn’t stop but continued on to the next room, the door of which was open too. The room was the opposite of his room, all floral and soft feminine pinks and reds. Not quite to her taste, but not so overwhelming as Maitland’s room.

“I shall leave you now. Susan will join you soon and attend you. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. I break my fast at nine o’clock every morning, if you’d care to join me.”

The relief was instant, and it must have shown on her face, for he squeezed her hand. “That would be nice,” she managed to say without a squeak.

He smiled at her as if she were a child.

“It’s been a long, stressful day. I understand your fears.

We have all the time in the world to get to know each other.

You’ll find I’m a patient man. I shall leave it up to you to tell me when you are ready to share my bed.

” He led her into her room and pointed. “There is a connecting door into my bedchamber. Feel free to use it whenever you need or want me.” With that, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek and left her in the middle of her room.

She watched with a mixture of relief and sadness as he retreated through the connecting door and closed it softly behind him.

This is not how she’d ever imagined her wedding night. She’d thought to marry a man she loved and that the wedding night would be spent in unbridled passion.

Gratitude at his understanding flooded her and she had to sit down.

Her breathing began to return to normal and it was only then that it occurred to her that maybe Maitland didn’t want her.

No, she inwardly scoffed. He was simply being a gentleman.

It did cross her mind that her brother might have said something to him.

They did seem to be having a serious conversation prior to her leaving home.

Ten minutes later she was ensconced in a soothing tub of hot scented water.

Yet her bath did nothing to unscramble her confusion.

Was it not cowardly to hide from her husband in her room?

What must he think of her? If Sebastian had interfered and warned Maitland off, she’d skin him alive.

Her marriage was between herself and Maitland.

If, as Maitland suggested, they waited until they knew each other better, would the enormity of the event just build up to gargantuan proportions?

What would it be like to lie with him? To experience all the fire he hid under the ice?

She’d had a taste and it was not unpleasant.

She moved restlessly in the water. Her body remembered the feel of his as he had kissed her, stroking his large hands over her skin and igniting need deep inside of her.

Perhaps she should reevaluate her decision to play the coward tonight. She laid her head back on the edge of the bath and closed her eyes. She was tired, but the knowledge that her husband lay alone in the room next door left her with butterflies in her stomach.

He might be lying there wondering what she was doing. He might be dreaming of her.

“Let me help you out of the tub, Your Grace, before you get too wrinkly. You want to look beautiful for your husband.”

Susan, her lady’s maid, had agreed to come with Marisa into her married life, and Marisa had never been so grateful.

Susan had not been there to hear her husband’s considerate and understanding platitude, the offer of allowing her to get to know him better before she came to his bed.

How embarrassing that he’d realized she’d been afraid.

She did as Susan said and stood while Susan dried her and helped her into a scandalously sheer red silk night rail that Beatrice had given to her, saying that Maitland would worship her for life once he saw her in it.

“Susan, you’re a widow. Did you know your husband well before you married him?”

Susan kept brushing her hair. “Yes, we courted for almost twelve months before my previous employer gave us permission to marry. Matthew was his Tiger.”

She raised her hand to cover Susan’s where it stroked her hair. “You must miss him.”

“I do. I still talk to him every night. I’m just thankful we had five wonderful years together before consumption got him. I almost made us wait another twelve months before we wed so I could rise to lady’s maid more quickly. I would have missed twelve months of the best years of my life.”

Maitland told her they had all the time in the world, but did they?

With a madwoman after him, she might become a widow tomorrow.

The idea of someone hurting Maitland upset her.

That was a good sign. Already he’d slipped into her heart.

He’d proven himself to be considerate, kind, and honorable.

And he was handsome, especially when he shared one of his rare smiles.

Beatrice had given her the talk about the marriage bed.

She said with a man as knowledgeable in the art of lovemaking as His Grace, her night would be pleasurable.

The amount of time Beatrice and Sebastian stayed closeted in their room spoke of how magical it continued to be for them. But then, they loved each other.

Perhaps sharing his bed was the quickest way to get to know the man she’d married.

She sat at her dressing table, sipping a glass of champagne, while Susan fussed over her appearance.

Marisa remembered the kiss in the alcove and the feelings he’d unleashed in her untutored body.

The experience was exciting, stimulating, and maybe it was the champagne she sipped, but her courage roared to life.

“There, you’re ready. Pretty as a picture.”

“Thank you.” She dismissed Susan and sat, contemplating what to do.

Marisa didn’t like being afraid. Usually she embraced life and to hell with the consequences. She’d always been the brave one and Helen the quieter, slightly scared shadow.

She hated fear. Her parents’ arguments used to see her cowering, until one day she’d seen the effect on Helen. She’d decided that to help Helen she had to pretend not to be frightened. From that day onward she’d never shown fear.

Until tonight.

“Oh, this is ridiculous,” she said, and stood and moved quickly to the door that joined their rooms. She didn’t bother donning her wrap. She simply knocked quietly and entered his bedchamber.