Libertine's Wife (10 page)

He would leave in a few hours. He told
himself he could find satisfaction with any number of women. He
planned to act as if his marriage didn’t exist. He had no
intentions of ever returning here. After many years, she would
realize what a poor bargain she made. Helping her brother escape
his money lenders sealed her fate.

Garret’s lips tightened to think of the
staggering amounts he paid off the week after their departure from
his London house, dealing with the scum of the earth to settle the
man’s debts. Sir Eustace Dunne was in over his head with the
sickness. He had little or no control over himself anymore. The man
lost a fortune and returned the next night to recoup.

Garret intended to put a boot in the
man’s backside if he ever approached him in the future with his
hand out. He was content to know his wife was safely tucked away
here at Ravensford Hall where Eustace couldn’t get to
her.

He left stern orders with his most
loyal staff members to evict Sir Dunne if he arrived. They were to
send word to him at his London residence if he showed up here
unannounced. He would allow his wife no contact with her
brother.

Eustace had little thought or regard
for his sister when he tossed her into bed with him. He should have
been the last man Eustace ever sought for a husband for his sister.
He was unfit for marriage. His sordid lifestyle was the fodder for
society to lament over. His former mistresses could offer lists
upon lists of reasons why he was unsuitable for
matrimony.

Thoughts of his young wife being used
by her own brother in such a degrading manner made him curse the
protective surge of instincts growing within him. Arianne made her
bed when she agreed to Eustace’s foul plans, he reminded
himself.

His child bride could rot at his estate
for all he cared. Despite his dark thoughts, the remembrance of her
soft and pliant in his arms made his eyes darken with rekindled
desire. No, she was no child, his wife, but a very desirable young
woman.

Arianne was a devil in an angel’s form,
deceiving him with every uninhibited response he rung from her.
Still, with the honeyed taste and smell of her still lingering upon
him, he realized he wanted her no matter what she’d done to
him.

Garret cursed savagely and closed his
eyes. He vowed he’d not fall for her deceitful charms. Even as he
told himself this, garnered much satisfaction from it, the truth of
his feelings infuriated him.

Garret wanted nothing more than to
return to her bed to enjoy the pleasing aftermath of their passion.
And he was pleased, he couldn’t deny it. The satisfaction he felt
was incredible. He couldn’t recall feeling this sated
before.

He knew next to nothing at all about
the woman he married. She was barely eighteen and had never even
been out in society. The night they met, she was quiet and
withdrawn. She offered nothing in the way of conversation at
dinner.

He didn’t have any insight into her
true character or her personality. She allowed them to dominate the
talk at the table that night, offering nothing, her eyes focused on
a spot on the linen table cloth.

For that reason, his eyes continually
strayed to her. Despite his best efforts to ignore the growing
attraction he felt to her, his eyes moved over her in covert
appreciation. The fact he entertained inappropriate thoughts of her
then mocked his best efforts to dismiss her now. The minute he saw
her, he felt his cock stiffen with immediate awareness.

Garret might have blamed it on the
heady absinthe he and Eustace sipped before dinner from the flask
her brother produced. The pulls from the opium pipe the younger man
offered him surely didn’t help matters. The glaring truth appalled
him. He desired her from the onset.

Then, there was Helms to consider. When
had he ever failed to call upon his trusted little dog to deal with
such matters? The man would have made short work of the Dunne
brother and sister. It troubled him, these inescapable
facts.

He told himself he acquiesced to the
man’s demands to keep the matter out of the public eye. The fact he
never cared about what society thought of him mocked those excuses.
No, he allowed it to happen, because of some irrational desire he
had for her that needed to be assuaged.

His own curiosity about her should be
doused to know she entrapped him into marriage. Wondering what the
lying, deceitful chit was really like shouldn’t matter to him.
Obviously she was nothing but a fortune hunter, much like her
brother.

Arianne saw a way to land a wealthy
husband and went along with her brother’s scheme. It was obvious
she’d given herself to someone else prior to their marriage. Her
brother discovered it and saw a means to an end. He couldn’t have
married her off any other way.

It enraged him to know he was the one
caught in their web of deceit. He, who had sworn off marriage his
whole life, and made a lifetime out of seducing women for his own
enjoyment, was caught by a mere girl.

It annoyed him to keep coming back to
that. His own arrogance aside; it infuriated him to be manipulated
to do anything. Now that he satisfied his desire for the girl, he
should have felt some sort of consolation. He did not.

Arianne could have everything else
associated with being his marchioness, but she wouldn’t ever have
him. He refused to give up his freedom. He knew he was being unfair
to her in retrospect. She was probably threatened by her older
brother, as she said. As young as she was, she knew no
better.

No, he couldn’t see himself playing the
husband to any woman. None held his interest long enough. It wasn’t
her. It was very much him. Garret sighed, acknowledging he would
never be fulfilled within a normal marriage. Miriam saw to that
when she corrupted him as a young boy.

His hidden desires would always taunt
whatever effort he intended toward monogamy. No, a wife would never
appease him at all. Only those he sought out and paid for did that.
His former mistresses became frustrated they couldn’t satisfy his
desires for long. They pleased him for a time, but his compulsions
made him seek another, and then another, as if searching for
something he could never find.

His innocent wife would recoil in
horror were he to have introduced her to his erotic passions, those
which tormented him his whole life. No, it was better he leave her
here, uncorrupted, and ignorant of his salacious needs.

Whoever her previous lover was, the man
was off the hook now. Garret was now the wriggling bait being
lowered into the churning waters. That thought fuelled his intent
to be away from his young, delectable bride. He was dismayed to
know if he didn’t leave come morning, he might have been tempted to
stay.

Arianne lifted her burning forehead
from the pillow, her eyes taking in the empty place beside her with
something akin to relief. She closed her throbbing eyes and her
head fell back down. Sweat broke out on her forehead. She had
barely enough time to run to the chamber pot, heaving and retching
violently within it.

Her nerves were frayed as she cleansed
her mouth. The stress of the last few days wore on her. She lay
back down until the nausea stopped. The maid arrived with a tea
tray. The smell of the fresh scones made her grit her teeth. She
rolled over, unwilling to face even Molly. The girl left the tray
and tiptoed out.

Arianne longed to weep in humiliation,
her body sore, reeking with the stench of his lustful possession.
Her buttocks smarted until she tucked a pillow underneath her. She
winced to recall why, blushing to be reminded of his taking her on
all fours from behind while she held onto the footboard for dear
life. The trace beginnings of bruises dotted the flesh inside her
thighs, making her bite her lip in dismay. The place between her
legs burned, ached from his vigorous use. She knew she’d not sit
properly for a week. Thoughts of facing her husband at breakfast
made her redden with shame after how they spent the last
evening.

Julian’s lovemaking had been sweet and
restrained. The few times they made love, he’d been tender,
unwilling to hurt her. While she’d enjoyed the encounters, they
were nothing like the torrid, uninhibited experiences with her
husband.

Garret wreaked havoc upon her senses.
He was a connoisseur of pleasure. He knew exactly how and where to
touch her, making her burn with wicked need. His hands and lips
brought her to such torment, she squeezed her eyes shut to think of
the carnal noises she’d made throughout, devastated to recall his
amusement to hear it.

Arianne covered her face with a pillow,
unable to think of her wanton behavior with the man. She lost
complete control, unable to help herself. She bit her lip and
buried her florid face deeper into the pillow. It still smelled of
his body’s musky scent.

The pillow then went sailing to land at
the foot of the bed. She couldn’t face his mockery today. She was
too embarrassed to see him. Just thinking of the scornful amusement
in those green eyes was enough to make her fume in further
outrage.

Feeling the feverish effects of the
illness she felt coming on for days, she dozed once more. She was
awakened by Molly later that morning. The maid applied a cool
compress to her warm forehead, claiming she was ill and should stay
abed that day. The girl then informed her Lord Ravensford left for
London while she slept.

Arianne sat up in the bed, her feverish
eyes wide and filled with hurt. To think he would just leave
without saying something, anything, made her realize how little she
meant to him. She felt deflated to know she didn’t even merit an
insult. Her hurt was profound, but misplaced, and unimaginable in
light of what was between them.

Her life developed a predictable
pattern within days. The boredom she felt made her seek the
library. Ravensford’s reading tastes were varied and incredibly
rounded. She found a cache of books she soon dragged to her
room.

Mr. Phillips saw to her need for new
clothing. The man was cheerful and pleasant, assuring her whatever
she needed would be seen to. A dressmaker from the village arrived
the following week after her husband left. A new wardrobe was
purchased.

The gowns were to be unfettered and
serviceable, Arianne had insisted, desiring to hide behind the most
hideous frocks imaginable in self-punishment. She claimed there was
no need for anything as grand as the woman insisted
upon.

They compromised, and in the end
Arianne had to admit the woman was right. Whether she liked to
admit it or not, she was the Marchioness of Ravensford. The
expectations for her station demanded she dress the
part.

Arianne started letters to Julian she
never sent. These were filled with words of regret and contrite in
their tone. She crumpled them, tossing them into the fireplace at
the very last. She cried herself to sleep each night to think of
how she’d bartered away her own happiness. In those self-pitying
moments, she clung to Julian’s handsome image, imagining him her
gallant knight coming to save her from her dark tower. She
convinced herself the sacrifice she made for them both wasn’t in
vain. She felt her heartbreaking once more to know he was married
by now too.

But at night, her dreams were filled
with the man who dominated her subconscious, ripping away those
girlish fantasies once there. Her husband had his satisfaction of
her, whether he cared of it or not. She was haunted by his image,
distressed to not be able to think of anything but the manner in
which he left her. She burned for him, and only him, then. Those
glittering emerald eyes were imagined with softness in them, even
affection. She was dismayed to think of her husband at all after he
renounced her and left her here.

Arianne nibbled at her breakfast
without appetite one morning, a little over a month after he left.
The echoing, silent dining room reminded her she was alone. The
house seemed to second her opinion, groaning in protest during a
wind storm outside. She felt a wave of desolation wash over her to
know she did this to herself, regret making her eyes brighten with
unshed tears.

No, there was no going back from the
course that was set. She might be Lady Ravensford, but she was
without a lord.

~ ~ ~

Garret received word his wife was with
child. He snorted in disgust. He tossed down her short, impersonal
note. He wasn’t surprised. It only revealed his miserable luck
since falling prey to the Dunne girl.

The fact his wife conceived the one
night he lay with her only further annoyed him. His apparent
fertility wasn’t news to him. All he needed to do was take off his
breeches in order for that to occur.

The news of his marriage was spreading
like wildfire.

The snickers of how it was accomplished
were only speculated and assumed by members of the nobility. He
endured the pitying glances at his club with clenched teeth,
knowing all secretly applauded his being waylaid by Sir Eustace’s
younger sister.

He avoided going out to deal with the
wagging tongues. The unprecedented interest in his hasty marriage
disgusted him to no end, that and the absurd rumors
circulating.