A Proper Lord's Wife (Properly Spanked Legacy Book 2) Page 5

  She laughed at that, her eyes curving up just like her lips. “It’s strange to think you’ll be my husband soon, and that we might talk about these sorts of things.”

  Yes, it was very strange. Here was this unfathomable woman, soon to take up residence in his home, as well as his bed. He could not imagine making love to her. He still ached for Ophelia in his weaker moments, even though she was married to his damned faithless friend. Perhaps some magic would happen at the altar to make him forget Ophelia and lust for the woman before him. Perhaps not. He had no idea how things might square out between them, but he understood one thing for certain: it was his fault the two of them, two perfect strangers, were getting married this holiday.

  She still clutched his handkerchief; by now, it was quite rumpled by her fingers. “I’ll try to be a very good wife to you, Lord Townsend, if only to thank you for rescuing me. I think if you hadn’t come along, I would have had a very sad and lonely life.”

  She was making herself so vulnerable to him. He could hardly bear it. He didn’t want it. I worry I will destroy you, poor little Jane, all by accident.

  “Come now.” He tilted his head to catch her gaze. “Someone would have come along and swept you up. You’re too charming to live a lonely life, don’t you think?”

  “I don’t know. Even if someone else had come along, I doubt they would have been as dashing as you.” Her blush deepened to epic proportions. “It would have been one of my father’s widowed friends, or some dissolute rake looking to marry money.”

  “You find me dashing, do you?”

  She didn’t giggle or bat her eyes. No, she gave up without trying, and handed over his handkerchief, mute with her odd, admiring anxiety. She glanced longingly toward the house, and he took the hint.

  “We ought to return, I suppose, before your flirting makes me kiss you.”

  She looked shocked. Well, she could not have been kissed before. There was something appealing about an absolutely pure woman. And something appalling too, of course.

  “I shall kiss your hand, if you don’t object.” He winked at her. “That’s what I meant, naturally.”

  She offered her gloved hand and he pretended not to notice her trembling as he lifted it to his lips. He placed a delicate kiss upon the back of her palm, holding her gaze as he did. She did not have the glorious elegance of Ophelia, nor her older sister’s sparkling ebullience, but there was something there that compelled him. Her deference and vulnerability, maybe. He could win her over easily—and ask her to do just about anything in the bedroom once she was his.

  That was how his dastardly mind worked. She found him “dashing,” but he was thinking about bedding her, and exploiting her purity and fear to his advantage.

  Ah, well. Perhaps marriage would reform him. Why not? Nothing, to this point, had made reasonable sense. He matched his stride to hers as he led her back through the gardens. Once, she reached out to trail her fingertips along the top of a manicured shrub. His naturalist, as yet unknowable.

  Back in the parlor, the parents were drawing up invitation lists for a wedding to take place two days before the New Year.

  Chapter Four

  How Lovely

  Jane drifted amongst the guests at her wedding breakfast, feeling like a princess in her ruffled, dove-gray bridal gown. Her parents’ ballroom had been transformed into a winter wonderland of flowers and lace, with delicate glittering snowflakes hanging from the chandeliers. This elegant holiday wedding had been the best Christmas present she’d ever received. Between the lovely church service, her friends’ well wishes, and the shining weather, the day had been perfect in every sense. Well, except for one.

  Lord Townsend didn’t seem very happy to be wed.

  She told herself it was nerves as they stood at the altar. She’d been nervous too. The church had been full to the rafters, as just about everyone still in town had attended. He’d stood so straight and tall beside her he could have been a prince. His sister Felicity was married to a prince, but Jane couldn’t imagine that man, her new brother-in-law, being any finer than Lord Townsend in his tailored black wedding suit.

  She feared she might stumble upon her vows, but his steady manner gave her the confidence she lacked. Now, as they rode together to their wedding breakfast, his mood remained sober. Almost somber.

  Well, she supposed most men looked on marriage as a loss of freedom, though she believed they’d have a marvelous union once they came to know one another. She’d do everything in her power to make him a happy husband because she admired him so. Every time their eyes met across her parents’ ballroom, she felt a shiver of amazement. I’m his wife now. He’s my husband.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t feel deserving of marrying such a fine, handsome lord. She’d just never imagined it would happen after the heartbreak of the previous year. How quickly one’s circumstances could change.

  “Jane, dear, come sit with us.”

  Her sister beckoned her over to a table decorated with winter greenery, and Lord Braxton jumped up to seat her. Speaking of changed circumstances, how lucky her sister had been to find such a doting husband after Lord Wescott left her in the lurch. Lord Townsend’s sister Rosalind sat at the table too, along with her friends Hazel and Elizabeth. They were Wescott’s younger sisters, and Jane was pleased they’d come to wish her well, though Wescott himself had wisely decided not to attend. “Braxie,” as June called her husband, probably would have flattened the man.

  And of course, Wescott was no longer Lord Townsend’s friend.

  “My dear, how radiant you look.” June took her hand with sisterly affection. “And now you are a married lady, like me. It’s wonderful growing close to your husband and setting up your own household.” She smiled at Lord Braxton, the picture of newlywed bliss. “I cannot express how comfortable it is to be at home with someone you adore.”

  “You flatter me, darling,” said Braxton. “And I adore you, too.”

  Jane envied their easy camaraderie. How long would it take to feel comfortable with Lord Townsend? “I’m glad to be married, especially to such a distinctive gentleman. I very much admire your brother,” she said to Rosalind.

  The sable-haired beauty took her hand and squeezed it. “Townsend is happy you accepted his suit. Honestly, I think marriage is just what he needs, and I’m glad we are to be sisters now. We’ll have to visit as soon as you and my brother are settled.”

  Jane felt grateful for the warmth in Rosalind’s eyes, but a little deflated about the idea they would need to “settle.” There was so much weight within the word, so much expectation. They would need to get to know one another better if they had any hope of matching June’s happiness. They’d need to talk, and touch. Kiss perhaps. Do other things, which Jane vaguely knew about.

  “Hazel is to be married soon,” said Elizabeth, her polite voice breaking into Jane’s thoughts. “She’s ever so in love.”

  “Mama and Papa told you not to say anything about it yet,” scolded Hazel in a hushed tone. “Not today. This is Jane’s special day.”

  “It’s all right,” said Jane. “It’s hard to keep such news a secret. Has someone asked for your hand?”

  “Yes,” said Hazel, blushing pink. “It’s not to be announced until the spring, but the Marquess of Fremont came to visit my father. We met at a ball last season and instantly knew we were meant to be together.”

  “How wonderful for you, to be able to marry someone so dear to your heart.”

  As soon as she said the words, she regretted them. Rosalind would think Jane was disappointed in her brother, and June…well, she had wanted to marry Lord Wescott for the longest time.

  “It is wonderful,” said Lord Braxton gallantly, to cover Jane’s gaffe. “There is a precious value in sharing your life with another person, a value in knowing they will be there for you. Marriage isn’t always easy, but it’s always worthwhile, wouldn’t you say so, my love?”

  June met her husband’s gaze with a giddy smile. “Absolute
ly. You’ve a way of expressing just how I feel. Oh, I’m so happy for you, Jane. You have so much to look forward to as a new bride.”

  She tried to return her sister’s smile, but hers had a bit of a wobble. “I’m excited, but nervous as well.”

  “Nervous? Whatever for? Your Lord Townsend is the top of the heap as far as marriage prospects. Not to talk about your brother as a mere prospect,” she said to Rosalind in apology, “but you must admit he’s been pursued by dozens of ladies over the years.”

  Rosalind nodded. “Too many ladies. Lord Townsend this, Lord Townsend that. To me, he’ll always be Edward, my bossy older brother. I hope he’s not too bossy with you, Lady Jane. Er, I mean, Lady Townsend.”

  “He’ll be bossy sometimes,” said June, with a teasing glance at her husband. “Men make a habit of it. But I’m sure he’ll also be sweet.”

  “Townsend is more bossy than sweet, in my opinion.” Elizabeth gave Jane a sympathetic look. “But I’m sure it’s as Rosalind says, that he only needs a bit of marriage to round out his edges.”

  “His edges?” Hazel giggled. “He’s not a table, silly.”

  “No, he’s not a table,” said June. “He’s a gentleman, he’s your husband, and he’s looking at you right now. Smile at him,” she said, squeezing Jane’s hand beneath the table. “Don’t behave as if he’s a stranger.”

  He is a stranger, she thought to herself. The wedding had come upon them so quickly, they’d only had time for a couple of outings together, one of which had been cut short by rain. In their limited time together, he’d told her more about Somerton, the manor they’d call home. She’d sent over the plans for her beloved pets’ kennels, a sturdy cage for Bouncer, and a cozy den for Mr. Cuddles, who needed plenty of bedding to curl up in. Townsend had told her she could have all the space she wanted for her pets in Somerton’s stables.

  He was all that was kind, and yet…he maintained a distance from her, an indefinable space that felt too wide to bridge just yet. When she summoned the smile she ought to give him—considering it was their wedding day—his answering smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  Well, they only needed time to settle, as June so wisely put it. Jane intended to start today, this very afternoon, trying to get to know Lord Townsend better. They couldn’t stay strangers forever, especially with the wedding behind them. She held his gaze as long as she could, until she blushed self-consciously and turned back to her friends.

  *

  “Have you lost your bride already?” August joined Townsend beside a beribboned pillar, staring with him into the ball room.

  “Lost her? He doesn’t even know how he found her in the first place,” teased Marlow, taking up a place on his other side.

  “You’re both tiresome.” Townsend was nearly drained of patience by this point in the proceedings. “And I know exactly where she is.”

  His friends knew, too. They were only making idle conversation, knowing he needed some mindless banter to shore up his defenses. He’d survived the wedding, and this reception too, speaking politely to the guests and pretending to be the most satisfied of bridegrooms.

  Now, he watched as Jane conversed with her sister. It was startling to see them together, especially when June was the one he’d imagined as his wife.

  “How sweet your bride is,” said August, smiling at Townsend. “Just sweet as a new bride can be.”

  “She is sweet,” he said, shrugging. “She seems pleased to marry me. There were no tears at the altar, no protestations.”

  “Only the ones ringing in your head,” said Marlow in a low voice.

  “What am I to do about it now, but make the best of it? I don’t think she’ll be a difficult wife, and if she is, I’ll know how to handle it.”

  “Spend more time at Pearl’s?” August suggested, alluding to their favorite brothel.

  “Not now that I’m married. I don’t wish to run around on her unless it’s necessary.” When she stood and moved across the room, he found himself focusing on her curvacious figure, and what he imagined to be a shapely bum. “I’ll try to have my needs met at home.”

  “If you’re speaking of your need to discipline naughty ladies,” said August under his breath, “then I hope she’s a handful and a half, and ever deserving of spankings.”

  “Spankings upon spankings,” added Marlow in an amused whisper. “A good birch rod is sure to bring your headstrong naturalist into line.”

  “I won’t menace the poor girl. Well, not unless she deserves it. From what I’ve observed, she’s a very even-tempered young woman.” Even if she’s not the person I intended to marry when I came home from France. “Perhaps her infamous days are behind her.”

  “Er, speaking of infamous,” said August, clearing his throat. “I stopped in to see Wescott and Oph—” He didn’t say her name when Townsend turned blazing eyes on him. “And his wife. They regret they could not attend and send their sincerest wishes for a happy marriage.”

  “They ‘regret’ they couldn’t attend?” Townsend scoffed. “More like the man didn’t dare show his face, not with June here. That’s one good thing about marrying a Mayhew daughter, even if I proposed to the wrong one—those families will never mend fences, so Wescott needn’t be part of my life.”

  “Aw, Towns.” Marlow’s pale blue eyes flickered in disappointment. “You won’t relent? Not yet?”

  “Not ever.”

  “You have to let it go at some point,” said August. “You don’t always get to marry the person you want.”

  Townsend frowned at his dark-haired friend. Who was August, to lecture him about letting go? The man had been mooning over Felicity for almost two decades now. Never mind that she was long married to someone else—a prince, no less.

  Still, his friends were here to support him, unlike Wescott, who was to blame for everything that had gone wrong in his life. “Will you go to Pearl’s tonight,” he asked the two of them, “now that you’re back in London?”

  He only said it to lighten the mood, but saw they were both considering it. Pearl’s highly skilled courtesans were up for anything when it came to erotic discipline. He would miss his visits there. Probably. He wasn’t sure. He felt numb and confused, surrounded by the celebrating families and all the flowers.

  “We might go,” said Marlow, raising a brow. “What about you, old man? Heading to Somerton this afternoon?”

  “Indeed. Jane’s things have already been moved there, and she’s excited to see it.”

  “I have so many happy memories of Somerton,” said August, and Townsend wasn’t sure if he was pining for Felicity and the togetherness of their childhood, or remembering the bachelor parties that came later, that had sometimes stretched on for more than two weeks. For God’s sake, he’d had a long and enjoyable bachelorhood. Getting married wasn’t the end of the world. He only wished he might have married Ophelia.

  That was why today had been so difficult, because he’d imagined a wedding with Ophelia, who was elegant, polished, talented, the most perfect of women. Guilt churned in his stomach as Jane turned to seek him out in the thinning company.

  “You’ll come to love her,” said August, ever the romantic. “I’m sure you have much more in common than is obvious right now.”

  “Yes, and even if you don’t become the best of lovers, you’ll have her to look after your gardens and woodland creatures,” added Marlow with a smirk.

  His jests were growing tedious. “If I have my way, the only creature she’ll be attending to from this point forward is me.”

  “May she do it well,” he replied, then sobered. “Honestly, congratulations. August is right, you don’t always get to marry who you want.” His gaze darted toward Rosalind, then away. “But you can make the most of things as they are. Lady Townsend seems very fine today, without a hint of dirt about her wedding gown’s hem. Do keep in touch with us and let us know how your situation is going in a week or two.”

  He nodded to his friends, then smiled at his mother as s
he came to take his hands.

  “My darling,” she said, “you must go to your bride. It’s not good to spend the entire reception apart from each other.”

  “Didn’t you and father—”

  “Don’t bring up our wedding, not today of all days.” She grimaced, then took his arm. “Jane is going to love you once she knows you as we do, darling. Your father and I are so proud of you today, we truly are. We’re pleased to see you married so well.”

  She meant they were pleased he’d seen this through.

  “Give your bride as much love as you can,” she continued, tears shining in her eyes. “Never let her question that you care for her.”

  “Of course, mama. Everything will be fine.”

  He patted her hand, took leave of his friends, and made his way across the ballroom to Jane’s side. She stood with a group of Mayhew cousins, none of whom he knew. She greeted him with a smile, a pure, welcoming smile that sparked conflicting emotions within him. Guilt, possessiveness, pride. Confusion that she would like him so much when they barely knew one another. Never let her question that you care for her, his mother had said.

  “How lovely it is that we’re finally married,” he whispered in her ear, so no one else could hear it. He would care for her, of course. He’d be a cad otherwise.

  Love? That might take a while longer, if it happened between them at all.

  *

  Jane sat up straighter on the carriage seat, looking out the window to watch her new husband riding alongside. He certainly had a handsome stallion, large and dark like him.

  Goodness, Townsend was large, wasn’t he? She hadn’t noticed until he was close to her, very close to her, how much he towered over her. At the wedding, when she placed her hand in his, it was almost comical how much larger his was. It was the difference between a dove’s claw and an eagle’s talons, as she stood there in her pale dove-gray gown, and he in black wool and cream like a bird of prey.