Amanda Scott (7 page)

At the sound of a light rap on the door to the corridor, just before the latch clicked, Anne snatched a piece of blank paper over her writing, but her pen dripped ink over the sheet as she did so, and she stifled an exclamation of dismay, startling Juliette, who jumped to the floor.

“There is silver sand in the drawer, I believe,” Lord Michael said from the threshold as he bent swiftly to foil the kitten’s intended escape. “I apologize if I startled you.”

“It is nothing, sir, mere scribbling.” She fought to retain her serenity as she opened the drawer, but to her profound relief, he crossed the room to the powder closet with the kitten in his arms. Shaking silver sand between the two sheets of paper, hoping to minimize any damage, she hoped, too, that he would not ask to read them, which, as her husband, he had every right to do. When he came back without the kitten and bent to tend the fire, she took advantage of his preoccupation to pour the sand off into the dish provided for it, and returned her pages to the portfolio.

Capping the inkwell, she stood, turning to face him. He had straightened but was still gazing down into the fire. She saw then that he, too, was wearing a dressing gown.

He looked up at her approach, and said, “I expected to find you in bed.”

“I did not know what you expected, sir, though I do recall now that you said I should go to bed. I am a trifle nervous, you see, which no doubt accounts for my having forgotten. I beg your pardon, and hope you are not vexed.”

“Not at all, though I must say you don’t seem nervous to me but, on the contrary, quite serene, as usual. And I don’t know why you feel you must beg my pardon, though I do recall your father telling me—more than once, in fact—that you are a paragon of obedience. That must certainly be accounted a rare virtue.”

“I have been told it is,” Anne said. Not knowing what else to say, she waited expectantly for him to tell her what to do next.

He looked at her with some amusement. “Shall I lower myself in your eyes, I wonder, if I confess that I, too, am nervous?”

“You, sir? But I thought you … that is,” she amended swiftly, “that all gentlemen had vast experience with such matters. Do you not know what to do?”

“Yes, Anne, I know what to do. That is to say, I know how one goes about the process of mating.”

“Well, that’s good, because I don’t know much about it at all. You will have to tell me what to do, but if you are truly nervous or disinclined to do it tonight, there can be no great hurry, after all, and I have no objection if you should prefer to … to—”

“There is no good reason to put it off,” he said quietly. “It is our duty, after all, to produce children. I meant only that I have never had a brand new wife before, or engaged in such activities with a lady who was not practiced in the activity.”

“I … I see.” Again, she was at a loss for words. Though she had known that gentlemen, as a rule, were far more experienced in matters of sexual conduct than ladies were, and that rakes flirted with all sorts of females, it had not occurred to her that her own husband would have engaged in sexual activities with other women. “Papa—and my sisters, too—said you were once a great rake,” she said, “but since I did not know you …” She let the sentence trail to silence, unsure how to end it without vexing him.

“You would not have been likely to meet me in London,” he said. “I did not frequent Almack’s Assembly Rooms or the
ton
parties unless there was gaming involved. I am afraid that until six months ago I was as extravagant in my own way as any other St. Ledgers male, and as active in pursuit of entertainment.”

“I see.”

“You don’t, of course, and I’m not inclined to explain. I think, for both our sakes, we had better agree to forget the past and proceed into the future. You get into bed now, and I’ll put out the candles.”

Anne waited until his back was turned before slipping hastily out of her dressing gown. Then, using the steps at the window side of the high bed, she sprang into it and snatched the eiderdown coverlet up to her chin. Watching him move methodically to snuff each of the many candles Maisie had left burning, she was glad she had put away her journal pages, for two branches of candles stood on the writing desk, and she was certain that he—like any other man—would have been tempted to read what his wife had written.

He left till last the candle burning on the bed-step table but snuffed it before he slipped off his dressing gown. When he climbed into bed, she realized at once that he was naked, and she was glad he had put out the light. She had never actually seen a naked man, but she had seen her younger brothers in their childhood and certainly knew that men were fashioned differently from women.

When he moved to take her in his arms, she stiffened.

He murmured, “Don’t you want to take off your nightdress?”

“Must I?”

“I suppose not, but we must move it out of the way a little.”

She swallowed hard, exerting every ounce of control she had over her limbs not to leap from the bed and run away. His hands on her body stirred a number of unfamiliar sensations, but her own modesty made it difficult to accept his taking such liberties with her person. When his hand moved between her legs, she jumped, quite involuntarily, and tried to pull away from him.

“Be still,” he murmured. “Let me see if I can help you relax. One of his large hands moved up over her stomach, over her nightdress to her breasts, touching first one then the other, stroking her like he would have stroked a skittish colt or a kitten. His touch was sure but gentle, and the sensations he awoke within her now were such as she had never imagined. She began to relax, even to enjoy his caresses, and when his lips suddenly touched hers, coming to her unexpectedly out of the darkness, she welcomed them.

A flash of lightning instantly followed by a crack of thunder made them both jump. Lord Michael’s kisses had been soft, exploratory, but now his lips hardened against hers, and to her astonishment, he thrust his tongue between her lips into her mouth.

His body stirred against hers and when a second crash of thunder came, while his tongue continued to explore her mouth, he moved a hand between her legs again, caressing the insides of her thighs briefly before his fingers sought entrance at the delicate opening where her legs met. Anne stiffened again, but he murmured against her lips, “It will be easier for you if you can relax.”

“But you are hurting me,” she protested.

“I know I am, and I’m sorry for the pain, but it must be done, and it will only hurt the first time, I promise you.”

“How can you be certain of that?”

“I have been told by those who know.”

He shifted his weight then, adjusting himself, fitting himself to her body, and despite his effort to be gentle, the pain increased from a dull ache to a much sharper one. Then he began to move, thrusting into her slowly but rhythmically, and Anne, her teeth clamped together, kept her hands at her sides, fists clenched, resisting an overwhelming urge to push him away, enduring the invasion of her body as she knew it was her duty to do.

A third crack of thunder louder than the rest roared through the room, shaking the walls, and Michael, startled, plunged into her. Anne screamed, and in a single, sharp, slicing movement, her fists shot between them, connecting forcefully with the part of his body that invaded hers. With a cry of pain nearly equal to hers, Michael reared back, and the ache within her eased at once.

Anne waited, breathless, feeling his body shift away from hers. When he did not speak at once, she said in a small voice, “I hope I did not injure you. The noise and the pain coming all at once like that was just—I didn’t think. I’m dreadfully sorry.”

“I’ll live,” he said, and there was a dry note in his voice that she had not heard before. “I have been warned that the taking of virginity can be very painful, but I was naïve enough to believe it was only the female who suffered. Or perhaps it was arrogance rather than naiveté. If so, I have been well served for it.”

He was silent, and she could think of nothing to say. A moment later, she felt his weight shift as he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. She could see the shape of him by the glow of the little fire on the hearth, but not his expression.

He said quietly, “Good night, madam. I’ll ring for your woman to attend you. Next time will be easier for both of us, I hope.”

Lightning flashed again, and thunder shook the house as a roar of wind blasted torrents of rain against the bedchamber windows. The storm had broken at last.

The storm had diminished by the time he was able at last to summon a maid to ease the ache in his loins. Having suffered degrees of that ache from the moment he saw that good cause existed for bringing a new female to the Priory, he knew he could not expect to alleviate it in a trice, but neither had he expected to suffer like he had tonight. From the moment he laid eyes on pretty little Anne, he had wanted her, and being in the same room with her made him long to touch her, to stroke her fine flaxen hair, to—

The door opened to reveal a pretty, trembling maidservant.

He murmured, “I do not think you can have made very great haste, girl. I rang nearly fifteen minutes ago.”

Paling, she bobbed a curtsy and said quickly, “I beg pardon, sir. Indeed, I thought you were—”

“Never mind what you thought. Your mental exercises do not interest me. But what do you wait for now? Get undressed at once. If you make me get up to you, I will make you very sorry.”

Gasping with fear, she hastened to obey.

He wondered how long it would take to teach little Anne to fear him, and to obey. A wife would certainly create a few problems at the Priory, but perhaps that could be turned to good account. She seemed docile enough; nonetheless, it remained to be seen whether her coming would prove a windfall or a pity.

F
OLLOWING ORDERS, MAISIE WAKENED
Anne earlier than usual the next morning, and although portions of her body still ached from the previous night, Anne made light of the discomfort, assuring her tirewoman that she was as fit as a fiddle. She knew from past experience that Maisie could become a veritable tyrant—forgetting her place and issuing orders like a general—if she believed her beloved mistress was ill or, for that matter, if she suspected only that Anne suffered from one of her occasional, annoying headaches.

“Now, see here, my lady,” Maisie said as she flung wide the curtains to reveal a brilliant, cloudless sky, “I know you must still feel a good deal of pain, so perhaps you ought to—”

“I am perfectly all right,” Anne insisted. “My experience was no more than what all brides must endure, after all.”

“Indeed, my lady,” Maisie said stiffly, “never having been a bride myself, I never expected to find so much blood.”

“It is perfectly normal, I’m sure,” Anne said firmly, concealing the fact that she had been astonished to learn she was bleeding. Determined to change the subject, she said, “Have you encountered many members of the household staff yet?”

Maisie sniffed but Anne was quick to note the gleam of amusement in her eyes when she said, “I’ve been told, madam, that as my lady’s personal servant, I am not expected to fraternize with the inferior members—which is to say not with anyone other than the housekeeper, Mrs. Burdekin, for I cannot believe she means for me to fraternize with Mr. Foster or Mr. Bagshaw, and certainly not with the likes of Mr. Wiggins, who is His Grace’s man.”

“No, indeed,” Anne said, twinkling as she accepted the cup of chocolate Maisie handed her. “How kind of her to explain all that to you, as I collect she must have done.”

“Yes, and though it would be impertinent for me to approach Mr. Bagshaw,” Maisie went on, raising her voice as she moved from the bedchamber to the dressing room to collect Anne’s clothes for the day, “I am expected to relay your orders to that cheeky Elbert when necessary
and
to be certain Frannie has made up your fire in the morning and satisfactorily prepared your dressing room—which means properly dusting the hearth, as I shall shortly inform her. I doubt I shall have much to do with anyone else. Although,” she added in a normal tone, appearing in the doorway, “there is a new upper housemaid who seems to be a most superior person.” Scarcely pausing to draw breath, she went on, “At all events, I am expected to devote the greater part of my time to serving you, madam.”

“Are you, indeed?” Anne said with a chuckle.

Assuming an air of great dignity, Maisie said, “Yes, madam. My duties have been made quite clear. Having assured myself of the chambermaid’s efficiency, I am to waken you, inform you of the hour, lay out your clothing, and order hot water for you to wash. I am then, if you please, to take my breakfast with the housekeeper and other principal servants until you ring for me to attend you in your dressing room.”

“Good gracious,” Anne said, awed, “did Mrs. Burdekin actually have the temerity to recite all that to you?”

Maisie nodded, adding with a wry smile, “But only for my own benefit, madam, on account of Mrs. Burdekin’s having no way of knowing if I was trained in such a superior establishment as this one is. And on account of the fact that I am, of course, rather young for so august a position as the one I presently hold, and will no doubt benefit from a bit of friendly guidance.”

“She never said all that!”

Maisie abandoned her dignity, grinning as she returned to the dressing room and raised her voice again to say, “She did, but she also gave me some useful information in the process.”

When silence followed this announcement, Anne called out, “Well, what else did she tell you?”

Maisie came back with Juliette squirming and growling in her arms, and plopped the kitten down beside Anne, where it began at once to purr. “Little puss was carrying on to be let out of yon powder closet,” Maisie said, adding as she took away the empty cup, “Next Mrs. Burdekin said, when you ring for me, I’m to attend you in your dressing room to comb your hair and help you dress, after which I’m to fold and put away your night clothes, clean your combs and brushes, and adjust your toilet table. I am then to retire to my workroom—on the floor above this one, that is—to be ready when wanted. Mrs. Burdekin expects I shall employ myself there in making and altering dresses, millinery, and so forth.”