“Fine, you may invite them for a wedding dinner and then they can sleep in a gutter, I refuse to house them.”
“They’d refuse your kind offer.”
“Do you have five pounds?”
“Why?”
“For the special license; I’m not going to charge you for the tea.”
“I’d find five hundred if it meant I could marry you. I hope the Archbishop will sell me a license if I apply in person. I understand it’s polite to request it in writing. I’ll return later and inform you if I’ve been successful.”
“Send a note. I don’t want to look at you until I join you at the altar.”
The Hervey creature took out his watch and pursed his lips, “I have an appointment at three, but afterwards I’ll go straight to the Archbishop. I think I know how to persuade him.”
“What sort of appointment?”
“Discretion is a godly virtue my dear.”
“You’re not going to see a lover minutes after agreeing to marry me are you?”
“Is that a jealous tone my dear?”
“No, it’s a disgusted tone and I am not dear to you so don’t call me dear.”
“How do you know you’re not dear?”
“How do I know you’re not mad? Do you have an appointment with a lady?”
“Yes, but there are many kinds of appointments. Most of them require one to remain fully clothed. I shall take my leave...do you have a ring or shall I buy one?”
“I’m not wasting money on a stupid ring to marry you.”
Hervey stood up as he put down his cup and sauce. “Let me look at your hand.”
“Why?”
“Because I may find a cheap ring in a pawnshop, but I need to look at your hand to see your fingers.”
“I don’t want some dead woman’s ring on my finger.”
“Your hand...” Juliana sighed in irritation and thrust out the desired limb nearly poking him in the eye. She forgot she was angry as he took hold of it. The warmth of his gentle touch sent strange shivers down her spine causing her heart to race. She was suddenly aware of a pleasant smell wafting up her nose; a masculine green with a hint of lemons, then he was kissing her hand making her feel dizzy. “You’ve made me the happiest of men.”
“You sound like you’ve practiced the statement a thousand times in a mirror.”
“I have, but my mental image of you was never this vivid. I look forward to kissing you all over...Juliana.” Her name was spoken with reverence as if it meant something to him; the man was born to tread the boards.
“Who said you could kiss me all over? I never said I wanted your kisses.”
“If I’m to be your husband you’ll have to let me kiss you. I can’t be your husband and not kiss you, it’s unthinkable. No kisses, no wedding.”
“Fine...just get a special license before I find a cheaper man.”
“As you wish...” She blushed as he kissed her hand again before she could think to rip it from his grasp. “Until the altar, I bid you a pleasant day Juliana.”
“Good riddance!” His low bow engulfed her in another a wave of masculine scent and he was gone without looking back. She sat staring in to space feeling like she’d run up a flight of stairs. If having her hand kissed was that pleasant, the evening promised untold delights. She shivered again as her skin echoed the feel of his lips on her skin. There was a faint possibility the Hervey creature would prove to be a bargain.
Mrs Juliana de Vere sat at the end of her dining table feeling overwhelmed by the charming medieval ring on her finger and the presence of seven orange haired men. The smiling boy sitting opposite was her husband and the abominations gulping down her inheritance were now her brothers. It was too awful to be true. Catching the eye of the Avery creature her soup spoon froze as she scowled. The man had been glancing at her with a disapproving expression since her arrival at the church. He clearly didn’t think her good enough for his penniless brother. Her spoon shook as her heart felt the wound. All six of her unwanted guests appeared unimpressed with their brother’s good fortune. She gripped her spoon as she held the Avery creature’s eye, “Whatever happened to that bottle of poison you were praising to the skies? If you’re out of pocket, do let me buy one for you. It’s the least I can do.”
“Thank you Madam; your thoughtfulness is heart-stopping. Please don’t extend yourself on my account.” He glanced towards his youngest brother and sighed, “I apologise for being rude yesterday. It was ungentlemanly of me and I fear I may have injured your opinion of Hervey.”
“You needn’t fear Mr de Vere; your brother is only mildly less repulsive than your awful self. I certainly didn’t marry him for the joy of having a flock of orange haired leeches looking down their noses at me because my family name isn’t as illustrious or impoverished.”
“Is that why you married him, for his name? Poor Hervey...”
“Your brother knows why I’ve married him and if he ever divulges the reason I’ll kill him.”
Six orange heads turned to look at their baby brother with concern. “Juliana isn’t going to kill me. Sweetheart, beware my brothers will take you at your word.”
“Good and don’t call me Sweetheart unless you want to die.” Juliana scowled at her smiling husband. He’d been looking at her with that theatrical adoring expression since she reached the altar. The horrid man had at least five thousand reasons to smile while she couldn’t think of one. The prospect of sharing her bed with the smiling stranger was suddenly real and terrifying and it was all her mother’s fault. The horrid woman had suggested the nightmare and then couldn’t bother to dress for supper let alone attend the wedding of her only child.
As if the orange haired man sitting to her left could read her thoughts, he turned towards her and said, “I’m sorry your mother couldn’t attend the wedding. She must be very ill. Our mother was ill for years before she died.”
“That’s not surprising considering she gave birth to nine surviving miscreants in almost as many years. The poor woman probably died of exhaustion. Which de Vere creature are you anyway?”
“Belvedere Madam, I’m the second eldest present.”
“Are you? If you were all wearing the same clothes I couldn’t tell you apart.”
“It’s true. Just last week the lovely Lady Wessex whispered in my ear, ‘Mr de Vere...may I call you Hervey?’ I said, ‘Madam, a woman as beautiful as your good self may call me whatever you like.’ Then she said, ‘I understand you have a certain reputation.’ I said, ‘Madam you put me to the blush. A reputation is nothing if not proved.’” Juliana scowled as six laughing orange men tapped their spoons on the table in approval. “She then invited me to tea...and afterwards said, ‘Oh Hervey...you will come again won’t you?’ I said, ‘Madam I’ll come as often as you desire.’”
“I’ve got one better.” Virgil de Vere raised his spoon and his brothers stopped tapping to listen. “One of Hervey’s peddlers, Lady St John came up to me at a ball last month and said, ‘Hervey my dear I must see you...urgently.’ I obliged the lady twenty minutes later in a private corner and left her singing Hervey’s praises.”
The tapping was short lived as Hervey’s amusement faded in response to his wife’s livid expression. “I’ve never had any dealings with Lady St John.”
Raven de Vere raised his spoon with a smile, “I have...she wanted to sell you some ugly paste jewellery for a fortune. I politely declined on your behalf and left her a satisfied customer.”
Hervey didn’t join his brothers in tapping his spoon on the table in appreciation. “I think perhaps it might be best if you rude lot finish dinner at a hotel. Juliana looks...tired.”
Raven de Vere raised his eyebrows, “Tired? She looks like Queen Boudicea ready to attack the Romans.”
“Vaughn de Vere forced a smile at his enraged sister-in-law, “Well, good luck, horse shoes and all that eh what?”
“Get out!” A satanic piercing scream brought the men to their feet as they winced in pain. “Get out of my house you ugly rude heartless miscreants.”
Hervey reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills. “Avery, take the boys to our usual hotel for dinner and have them set a place for me. Quick, leave before she...” He ducked as her bowl flew past his head. “Go.” Within seconds the newlyweds had been abandoned. The Hervey creature looked down the table at her with an unhappy expression and calmly said, “Juliana, do not throw things at me. That is not acceptable behaviour.”
“Don’t tell me what to do. I hate you. You’re probably the worst lover in the whole of England.”
An ear splitting scream of rage was followed by her glass flying past Hervey’s head.
He took a deep breath and calmly stood up and walked down the length of the table. “You can call me what you like, but do not throw things at me. It hurts my feelings.”
“You married me under false pretences; you let me think you were a reputed lover. You’re nothing but a philandering de Vere. I’ve a mind to annul this stupid farce and find a cheaper husband who doesn’t have eight doppelgangers propping up his overrated reputation.” Shivering with cold she glared as he stepped closer and lifted her hand to strike his face, but her wrist was easily captured in a soft iron grip.
“I would never hit you and I expect the same courtesy.” The words were mild, but firm.
Juliana’s lips trembled as her eyes filled with tears, “I want an annulment.”
“As you wish, but you won’t find another man who’ll be as gentle and good to you as your first husband.”
She snorted in disgust, “Why would you be gentle and good to me?”
“Why do you think?”
Juliana’s chest tightened as she sobbed, “I have no idea why you do anything you Hervey you...if you are Hervey. You could be that awful Avery creature and I wouldn’t know...you’re all so alike. I hate my life, I want to die.”
“Sweetheart, I’m Hervey. I’m the only de Vere who longs to share your bed and I’d be heartbroken if you died.”
“Why? No one cares about me...”
“I care.”
“My stupid mother couldn’t be bothered to attend my wedding. She loves laudanum more than me...” Juliana found herself sobbing into a warm brown silk waistcoat as gently arms held her until she cried out her rage. She drew a shuddered breath and inhaled the same pleasant masculine scent as before. Sniffing back her excess tears, she listened to the faint beating of her husband’s heart and slowly became aware of the sensation of being pressed up against a man. There was nothing about it she could dislike. The Hervey creature seemed content to let her remain where she was, so she breathed in his smell until she felt calm. Sniffing away her nervousness she lifted her head. “Did you say you care about me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Why do you think?”
“Because you’re mad?”
“Some think so...”
“Why did you kiss me on the cheek after the ceremony? You’re supposed to kiss the bride on the lips. I didn’t marry you to be kissed on the cheek.”
Juliana watched in amazement as the man’s pale cheeks flushed bright red, “I was afraid my enthusiasm might embarrass you.”
“Kiss me now.” Juliana held her breath as his adoring eyes approached.
“Have you ever been kissed?”
“No.”
“It’s best to do it slow the first time, like savouring something sweet.”
“Just kiss me before I change my mind.” Her heart was racing as his lips hovered. Was he waiting for a specific moment? The smell of lemons revived memories of summer; she could hear birds singing in the garden, taste sweet lemonade and smell fresh cut hay. Warm breath caressed her face taunting her curiosity. Closing her eyes his lips landed as light as butterfly wings sending a strange euphoric sensation. Her lips were gently explored and then released. She stood there unable to move; her eyes closed her mouth open. His deep sigh, like an ancient wind rustling over the crown of an oak tree, penetrated her skin and sank into her bones. She was pulled into closer embrace as her lips were reclaimed with unrestrained delight. Her lower lip held prisoner, it seemed only right that she capture his upper lip and restrain it before exploring his offered warmth. Euphoria filled her veins as she realised she was making the Hervey creature tremble. Reluctantly set free, she watched him open his eyes and smile as he licked his lips. He silently held her gaze, caressing her with the close rise and fall of his chest. “I like your eyes.”
“They’re brown, my second favourite colour.”
“What’s your favourite colour?”
“Copper red, like living flames.”
Juliana scowled as her stomach knotted, “Are you making fun of my hair?”
“Sweetheart, your hair is a treasure. I know wigmakers who’d pay good money for your hair.”
“Isn’t five thousand pounds enough? Will I wake up to find myself shorn like a dumb sheep?”
“I’d rather fall on my sword than cut off your hair Sweetheart. I love your hair. I hope you’ll let me comb it for you one day. I used to comb my mother’s hair when she was ill. She said I was very gentle.”
“I’m not letting you near my hair with a comb.”
“You’re shivering...” Juliana shivered harder as warm hands ran up and down her bare arms.
“I’m freezing. I need to change out of this stupid dress. I should have worn thick wool. It’s not as if anyone cares what I wear.”
“I care.”
She felt suddenly self-conscious, but he didn’t offer any compliments. Did he think she looked frumpy? “Mother uses the master suite; you’re three doors down from me.”
“Do I have to sleep three doors down?”
“Yes.”
“I think you’d be warmer with a Hervey creature in your bed. I promise not to bite.”
She scowled at his hopeful wink. “You’ll do your duty and go away. I’m not sharing my room or my bedding.”
“As you wish...” Juliana’s fears of the evening ahead were forgotten as he took hold of her face with both hands and warmed her lips with a long kiss that sent a heat all the way to her toes. She felt an awful panic as he pulled away his lips, but then he pressed his nose to her cheek causing blissful peace. After an eternal moment he sighed, kissed her nose and stepped back. “I need to go out, but I’ll return later.” He turned and walked towards the door, but this time he stopped and looked back as if he wanted to say something, but he blew her a kiss and was gone. Feeling oddly disappointed she blindly made her way to her room where she waited up for her husband, until her teary eyes closed themselves and pulled her into nightmares of being financially dependent on a penniless husband.