Page 38 of The Viscount Needs a Wife (All for Love #2)

T hey entered the village of Monkton Combe in the late afternoon.

The church was situated at the end of the village’s main street in a cul-de-sac.

It was a small building, rectangular with a small spire, and stained glass windows down the side.

It looked surprisingly new. Leading the horses under a tree, Emrys dismounted and helped his wife down.

He was tired and a little saddle sore himself.

He could imagine how she must feel, but she hadn’t complained once.

“All right?” he said, his hands still resting on her waist. Her riding habit of green velvet was fitted to the waist and displayed her figure to perfection.

“Terrified,” she admitted with a rueful smile.

“Come on,” he said, offering her his hand. “Let’s go and find out who your sainted papa is before I expire of curiosity.”

She took his hand and picked her way across the tussocky grass toward the little church. Would there be anyone here at this time of day? He looked about for a rectory building nearby but couldn’t see one.

They reached the entrance to the church. The door was ajar, and it was rather gloomy inside. He poked his head in and called out. “Hallo, anyone about?”

Annis slapped his arm, embarrassed. “Emrys! It’s a church. You don’t yell in church!” she hissed.

He shrugged, and a figure appeared in the aisle toward the front. He was a middle-aged man with a shock of thick partially graying hair. He was in shirt sleeves and carried a cloth in his hands as if he might have been polishing something.

“May I help you?” he said, walking toward them.

“I hope so,” said Emrys, stepping over the threshold. He held out his hand. “I’m Viscount Ashford, and this is my wife, Lady Ashford. I was wondering if we might take a look at your parish records?”

The man blinked. “My lord, this is most unexpected. We don’t get nobility visiting us very often.

Reverend Paul Annerley at your service. Do come in!

” He wrung Emrys’s hand enthusiastically and waved them in.

“You’re lucky I was still here. I was about to shut up shop and go home for tea.

This way—the records are kept in here,” he said, leading them to what Emrys guessed was the vestry, a small room off the right of the altar.

“Has the church been here long?” asked Emrys. “It appears to be relatively new.”

“Oh, this building is very new—only four years old! But the original church was Norman, very ancient and uncomfortable. It was demolished and this one rebuilt in its place.”

“Oh, do you have all the records from the original church?” asked Annis anxiously.

“Yes, of course. The registers were transferred,” said the reverend, holding the vestry door open for them. “Which year were you interested in?”

“We actually have a date” said Annis, blushing. “We—we think it might be for a marriage.”

He nodded and smiled. “And the date?”

“The seventh of January 1790.”

“Mm, 1790, 1790.” He turned to peruse a shelf with large, bound volumes on it.

There were a lot of them taking up the entirety of the inner wall of the vestry.

On the very topmost shelves Emrys even spied some scrolls.

“Ah, here we are—1789 to 1794. We don’t get a lot of births, marriages, and deaths here you understand.

” He drew out the large volume and rested it on the table.

Opening the parchment pages, he leafed through them until he found the correct year.

“Here we are, there are three entries for January 1790. Take a look.” He stepped back, and they bent over the book. Emrys peering over Annis’s shoulder.

The third was what they were looking for. He heard Annis’s in-drawn breath as her finger traced beneath the spidery, hard to read letters.

Notice of banns for three consecutive Sundays was followed by “Seventh of January, Mr. Nicolas Benedict Red—... Can you make out the rest of the name?” she asked.

Emrys bent closer and shook his head. It was a scrawl.

“And Miss Janet Adelaide Pringle, residents of this parish!” She clutched at his arm with excitement.

The officiant was also named along with two witnesses to the marriage, listed below the participants.

He smiled and squeezed her hand. “Mr. Nicholas Benedict Red—” He squinted trying to make out the rest of the name. “Redman, Redfearn, Redford?” he guessed.

He turned to the reverend. “By any chance were you here in 1790? Would you know this gentleman’s name? We can’t make it out.”

“No, I’m new to the parish. It would have been old Mr. Beagle back then. He’s been dead for three years.”

“How frustrating, but still the first part of the name is clear enough and we have the Christian names.”

“Benedict!” said Annis. “My second name is Benedicta!” The tears rolled down her cheeks. “She named me for him!” He put his arm round her then and pulled her close, never mind what the other man might think.

“She did,” he murmured. “We might have guessed that!” He turned to the reverend.

“Thank you very much. I should like to make a donation to the church plate.”

“That would be most kind of you, your lordship.”

Emrys handed over a purse and then bethought him of something else. “No one else has come asking about this, have they?”

“This record? No. In fact, I can’t recall anyone asking for our records in the whole time I’ve been here.”

Emrys nodded. “Had enough, love?” he asked quietly of Annis, and she nodded.

They declined the reverend’s offer of tea and returned to the horses.

Annis was still wiping tears off her face, and he put his arms round her. “All right, love?” he asked.

“I’m overwhelmed,” she admitted. “Nicolas Benedict Red... what do you suppose the name could be?”

“We’ll find out. If he’s a peer, we’ll discover it.

We’re heading to my grandmother’s house now.

You will like her, and she will love you.

Another half-hour’s ride and we can be comfortable,” he said and kissed her briefly.

If he kissed her the way he wanted to, they would shock the reverend and delay their trip.

*

“Good heavens, Emrys, is it true you’ve married a governess, or is Maria Fortnum all about in her head?” Annis’s wandering gaze came back to the wizened little old lady with the pure white hair sitting in a chair by the fire.

“It’s true, Grandmama. I’ve brought her to meet you.” He put his arm round Annis’s waist and shepherded her forward. “Annis, this is my grandmother, Lady Stavely.”

Annis made her best curtsy. “Lady Stavely, it’s an honor to meet you. Your grandson speaks very highly of you.”

“Does he now?” The old lady’s eyes ran over Annis speculatively. “Well, she’s not a beauty like the other one, but perhaps she’ll treat you better. Have you brought those beautiful children with you?”

Emrys took all this without a blink and said, “No, not this time. We won’t be staying long, I’m sorry. But we will bring them back soon, I promise.”

“Hm. Come here, girl, I want to look at you, and my eyes aren’t good in this light.”

Annis stepped forward, suppressing a smile. She was used to obstreperous old ladies. She’d met a few in her time as a governess. She sat down on the cushion by the lady’s feet and presented her face for inspection.

“Mm. A good chin and a fine complexion. She doesn’t look stupid either.”

“She isn’t,” snapped Emrys. “That’s enough, Grandmama, you won’t put her out of countenance, so stop trying.”

“Protective, isn’t he?” she said to Annis.

Annis smiled.

“Yes, I am. And if you understood what she has been though, you would understand why,” he said.

His grandmother looked at him directly. “Well, I hope you mean to explain that.”

“I do. But do you think we might wash and change first, and have something to eat? We’ve been riding all day, and I’m famished.”

“There—always loved his food! Even as a little boy,” this to Annis. “Of course, take her upstairs. You can have the blue room.”

“Thank you,” he said and held out his hand to Annis. She rose gave the old lady a second curtsy and followed him upstairs.

Annis walked straight into his arms after he shut the door to their room, her face buried in his chest. “Thank you. Thank you for supporting me, being with me. I—”

“Hush. I’m your husband. Where else would I be?”

“You’re the most wonderful husband a woman ever had!” she said, lifting her face to look up at him and reprising her words of a few days ago.

His expression twisted, and a flare of unaccustomed anger flicked through her like a whipcrack. That woman had hurt him in so many ways!

“I’m not Caroline! You must know how much I value your support, Emrys!

” she said softly. She reached up and cupped his face.

His dear, adorable face. The amount she loved him took her breath away.

The fact that he thought himself less, that Caroline could still hurt him so—that he must therefore still bear love for his first wife—was a knife in her chest. The knowledge continued to stop her from blurting out her own feelings, but it was hard.

She wanted to tell him how wonderful he was, how kind and sweet and downright gorgeous. Instead, she kissed him.

His arms came round her and almost lifted her off her feet.

His response to her kiss was devouring. He walked her backward until her legs hit the bed, and they fell on it together.

He showered kisses all over her face and neck to the line of her high-cut riding habit.

“Annis.” His voice, deep and gravelly, told her that whatever his feelings were about his first wife, it was his second wife he wanted to fuck. That must mean something...

His hand pushed up the heavy skirts of her velvet riding habit, and she felt him scrabbling at the buttons of his falls.

He freed his cock, and she felt it graze her damp flesh as he shuffled into the cradle of her hips.

She shifted her legs up. He seemed in more of a hurry than usual, and the notion that she excited him that much was arousing.

“Annis, forgive me,” he whispered and shoved his way inside her, hard. He held her hands under his, palm to palm, and her gaze with his as he drove into her, his thrusts hard, deep, and increasingly rapid.

She looked back at him, lifting her legs farther to take him deeper, surging up with him as he drove himself ruthlessly and rapidly to climax, panting and groaning, his body a rictus of pleasure-pain by the expression on his face.

He collapsed on her with a grunt and an exhalation of something like a moan.

He buried his face in her neck, and she felt dampness against it and realized it was tears. Why?

She wrapped her arms round him. “Emrys?” she whispered.

“I’m so sorry,” he husked thickly.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“I’m a beast.”

“You are not.”

He lifted his head and stroked a tangle of hair off her face. The pins had come loose. “I fucked you with no preliminaries. I used you.”

“It was nothing I did not want. I was happy to be useful.”

He swallowed. “You’re the one that has been through the emotional turmoil, and I’m behaving like an animal.”

She smiled and stroked a finger over his lips. “You make me feel wanted.”

“You are.” His tone was raw. He shifted and slipped out of her. Lying beside her on the bed, he reached down and stroked her gently between her legs. “Let me at least make it up to you a little.”

She gasped and moved under his touch, sharp tingles of pleasure radiating up from his fingers.

“I won’t say no,” she said panting.

“Annis.” He kissed her, his fingers slipping inside her, working her to climax. He was rather good at that by now. He knew what touches worked, and she was primed after his abrupt and rapid taking. There was something so arousing about a man who couldn’t resist you.

She came quickly, and he stroked her gently down the other side.

“There, I don’t feel quite so bad now,” he said, kissing her cheek.

He sat up a bit, and she thought their intimacies were over.

But he put a hand on her to stop her rising.

Catching her gaze he said, “I know you’re not Caroline, and I’m glad of it. ”

She subsided back on the bed, swallowing the sudden lump in her throat. He kissed her fingers. “I’ll make love to you again later, properly, but for now we had best get ready for dinner, because I’m ravenous, and even your breasts won’t satisfy me right now.” He grinned, pulling her up off the bed.