The Suitable Bride (The Emberton Brothers Series Book 2) (13 page)

She was snapped out of that train of thought as Edward came back into the hallway empty-handed. “No tea?” she enquired.

“Oh, tea is coming. I ran into Stainton. He stayed awake to wait for us, bless him!”

“Oh! I am surprised!” She truly was impressed that the butler would wait for their arrival home. “That is very good of him.”

“He’s a very fastidious man. Even Mama’s butler can’t compare!” Edward drew closer and placed his hand in the middle of Frances’ back, a gesture and sensation she liked very much. “Anyway, he says for us to go straight up to our room, and he will bring tea and hot crumpets.”

“I see what you mean by fastidious!” Frances giggled.

“It will be most welcome.” Edward said and Frances agreed, as he took hold of her hand and led her, smiling suggestively, up the stairs, along the landing, and into the room he had chosen to be theirs.

He opened the door and, before Frances could step in, he swept her up into his arms. She laughed as she clutched her hands behind his neck and allowed herself to be carried across the threshold.

“I didn’t carry you across the threshold of our home, so I hope this will suffice.” Edward looked apologetically at his bride.

“It will suffice very well, Edward.” She knew she blushed deeply but did not care. Her own husband held her in his arms. After the tumultuous last couple of months, Frances was elated to be where she was right now. She was married to a wonderful man, a man who, from the look in his eye, absolutely adored her. She could not help but respond likewise. Her heart reached out to his, wanting to adore him back.

Very gently and carefully Edward placed Frances’ feet back on the ground and pulled her into an embrace. “You truly are the most beautiful woman in the entire world,” he said, huskily.

“How can you know that?” She looked at him with playful curiosity. “Have you met all the women in the world?”

Edward threw his head back and laughed. Frances liked the sound of it. “Very true. I have not met all the women in the world, but were I to meet them, I would never even look sideways at them. I have loved you, Frances
Emberton
,” he said lovingly as he took her right hand and kissed her palm tenderly, “from the very first moment I laid eyes upon you. And I know I shall love you until my dying day.”

Frances wished she could stop time right there and have Edward repeat those words over and over again. She had to restrain herself from asking him to repeat those honeyed words. Her eyes involuntarily filled with tears. Swallowing down the lump in her throat, she replied, “I love you too, Edward.”

So slowly that Frances was almost unaware that he moved, Edward leant his body towards her until his lips lightly brushed hers. From his ragged breathing, Frances knew it was something he had been longing for. She could barely breathe as she waited for his lips to claim hers. A discreet tap at the door broke the spell as the butler arrived with a tray. The moment was gone, but at least the tea and crumpets had arrived.

* * * *

The tension in the air once the butler left was so heavy, it was uncomfortable. Edward watched as Frances poured tea for them both and then passed him a buttered crumpet. His throat had suddenly gone dry, making it hard to swallow. The tea helped the crumpet go down, but Edward knew it wasn’t the crumpet that made his throat so dry. He could barely believe she was his and tonight was their wedding night. To his mind, Frances had never looked lovelier. The pale lavender silk of her gown accentuated the green of her eyes and shimmered through an overlay of delicate lace rosebuds. Edward did not know much about lace, but he could see it was exquisite work. In the church, Frances had worn a matching bonnet covered with fragrant rosebuds. She truly did have an eye for beautiful things. As Edward’s eyes travelled over the wonderfully made gown, his mind turned to more sensual thoughts.

He did not know the precedent for such a night but instinct took over. Noticing that Frances had finished her cup of tea, he drained the remainder of his and replaced the cup and saucer back upon the tray on the table before him. He reached out and took hold of her hand, once more repeating the action he had so greatly enjoyed not long before the butler arrived with the tea. He pressed his lips into the palm of her hand, breathing into his nose the wonderful delicate scent of her skin. “You truly are magnificently beautiful, Frances. Everything about you is beautiful.”

He looked up at the sound she made as her breath caught in her throat. He smiled to himself, noting that she clearly liked to be complemented. He shifted his position closer to her and placed a kiss on her inner wrist. As he pressed his lips against the velvety flesh, the thrumming in her vein matching the drumbeat of his heart, Frances curled her fingers into the hair behind his ear. The action sent a shiver of excitement down Edward’s spine and to the pit of his belly. He groaned with pleasure.

Before he realised what he was doing, he claimed her mouth with his. Part of him wanted to laugh at the taste of tea and butter upon her lips, but more urgently he felt the desire to kiss her more deeply. With more haste than grace, the couple stood up and stumbled their way to the bed, all the time hungrily kissing each other. Edward knew then it did not matter whether he was aware of the wedding night practice or not. He instinctively knew what to do and how to do it. He enfolded Frances in his arms, savouring the sound of the whimper that escaped her lips, and scooped her up, holding her to his chest. Gently, he laid her down onto the bed, leaning over her, admiring her beauty one last time before his mouth came crashing down upon hers again.

Chapter Sixteen

Sunlight peeked through the curtains
as Frances stretched languidly upon the bed. She turned over and discovered Edward was gone. Sitting up alarmed, she called out his name. “Edward?” She surmised he could not have gone far, that he would not have gone far the day after their wedding, but all the same, she did not like waking up alone. “Edward? Where are you?” she called out again.

Wrapping the sheet around her, she climbed out of bed and went in search of her husband. The wonderful rich fibres of the Chinese rug felt good between her toes as she wandered through to their private sitting room. Edward was not in there either. She frowned to herself and was considering whether she should ring the bell to be dressed when Edward himself appeared at the door, making a loud clatter. Frances laughed at the sight before her.

Edward attempted to enter the room carrying a full tray of breakfast things—a teapot, two cups and saucers, a rack of toast, a small jug of milk, a butter dish, knives, side plates, and teaspoons. As he opened the door, he almost lost his battle with juggling the contents on the tray in his hands.

“Here, let me help you!” Frances called out as she scuttled across the room, still wrapped in the sheet, to take the tray from him.

Edward took one look at her and said, “I think it might be better for you to take charge of the door, to not risk uncovering yourself.” He grinned at her teasingly.

She chuckled at his comment and did as he bid. As soon as he was in the room, she closed the door firmly behind him and watched as he placed the breakfast things upon the table in the centre of the room.

“I had hoped to serve you breakfast in bed.” Edward turned and looked at her with the cheekiest grin she had ever seen on his face. “But somebody got up before I could surprise her.” He stepped forwards and reached out to embrace her. “And in her hurry to find me,” his manner teasing, “because she cannot possibly live without me, she did not even find time to get dressed.” Frances laughed and stepped back from his embrace as Edward reached out and tugged at the sheet she had wrapped around her. “I wonder what would happen if I did this?” he asked as he tugged a little harder at her covering.

“No!” Frances cried out as she sniggered.

“What?” Edward feigned surprise. “Are you hiding something from me?”

“No, I am not,” she replied as she continued to step backwards towards the bedroom.

“Then let me see!” he cried out, startling her as he ran after her and chased into the bedroom.

Between laughing and screaming, the sheet slipped from Frances’ slender frame. She looked up at Edward with feigned dismay written across her face, enjoying the game as much as he was. “Now look what you’ve done!” she accused.

“What I did?” He eyed her slowly up and down from her feet all the way up to her hair, taking in the luscious spectacle before him. “I was nowhere near you, Frances. How could I possibly have done that?” Edward attempted to replace his lascivious look with an innocent one.

Frances shrugged. “Well, it is your fault,” she pouted. “I wouldn’t have dropped the sheet had you not been chasing me.” She cocked her head and looked at him coquettishly.

“Well, what can I say?” Edward responded throatily. He stepped towards her and Frances welcomed him into her arms. “If whatever you’re wearing falls off every time I chase you,” he said as he delicately kissed the soft skin on the side of her neck, “then, my dear,” he chuckled again, “I shall have to chase you more often.” He pulled away and gazed into her eyes. Frances felt her love for him growing with every gesture and comment. “Shall I not?”

She tittered at the thought and leant forward to kiss him. She loved the smell of his skin, a combination of soap and musky cologne. She nuzzled her face against the stubble on his cheek that had grown up overnight and whimpered at the sensation. Gently, she stepped back and looked at him quizzically.

“What is it, my love?” he asked, desire clearly etched on his face.

“I was just wondering,” she said wantonly tracing the contours of his torso with her forefinger.

A moan escaped his lips as he tried to speak. “What?”

She raised her eyes and gazed upon him flirtatiously. “I was wondering…” she watched as Edward tilted his head back and gasped at the feel of her fingertips as they traced their way down his body “…if I were to chase you, if your clothes would fall off too.”

Edwards head snapped forward, his eyes opened wide. “Oh, you deliciously perfect tease!” He took hold of her more roughly than he had the night before, swept her off her feet, and carried her back to the bed. The breakfast things sitting in the other room were left to go cold.

* * * *

“I have an idea,” Frances grinned at Edward across the table one evening during dinner.

Edward creased his brow quizzically at Frances as he slowly chewed a delicious piece of roasted lamb.

“How about we throw a dinner party?” She looked at him triumphantly as though that was all she needed to say.

Edward’s questioning visage remained as he swallowed the piece of succulent meat. “I’m sorry, my dear. I do not understand what you mean.”

Frances giggled. Edward loved to hear that sound. “You don’t know what a dinner party is?” She raised her eyebrows so high that it made him laugh.

He reached out for his glass of white German wine and, after taking a mouthful to clear his palate, replied, “Of course I do. I merely meant, why would we wish to throw a dinner party?”

“Well,” Frances carefully placed her knife and fork against the sides of her plate, and leant enthusiastically towards him, “I thought it would be a nice gesture to invite your colleagues and some of my father’s contacts to dinner. Surely it would help your cause gain momentum.” She looked satisfied with herself as she smiled benignly at him.

“Hmm…that is a good idea, my love.” Edward speared a roasted potato with his fork, sliced it in half and popped it into his mouth. He thought on the idea as he chewed, all the while aware that Frances watched his every move, hoping her suggestion would be acceptable to him. He swallowed the now well-chewed potato and asked, “Would your father be amenable to such a soirée?”

She looked at him incredulously and shrugged. “Why would he not? Did he not say he is in full support of your cause?”

Edward nodded emphatically, “Yes, he did. He is interested in everything that goes in the meetings I go to and requires a full report. Surely it would be better for him to hear it directly from my peers.”

“That is my notion precisely, Edward!” she replied, scooting her chair closer to the table. “You can leave all the arrangements to me. It will be so exciting—our first dinner party!”

He chuckled at her enthusiasm. She really was taking to being his wife like a duck to water. He was pleased with the transformation. She was turning out to be a wonderful wife, a lover beyond his wildest expectations, and now she wanted to take on the role of hostess with such vigour and fervour that he could not help but be proud of her.

“Very well. If you think you can handle all of the arrangements yourself, then by all means do so. Is there anything you would like me to do?”

Frances pursed her lips in thought, then took a deep breath and replied, “Yes, there it is.” She looked at him with a twinkle in her eye. “You can supply me with a list of all your most important colleagues, peers, contacts, and acquaintances. And then leave the rest to me.” She smiled elatedly.

“Very well then,” Edward said decisively. “I will furnish you with as long a list as I can manage by this time tomorrow. Is that soon enough?”

She rewarded him with one of her most brilliant smiles. “That will do just perfectly.”

* * * *

The following morning, Frances set about making the arrangements for the dinner party. The first order of business was to consult with the cook, Mrs Hopwood, as to what food could be got and at what cost. Dinner would begin with soup, and of course they must have fish. For the main course, Frances wanted to provide meat and game of varying sorts. The more diverse the dishes she could provide at the dinner party, the happier, she hoped, the guests would be.

Mrs Hopwood’s famous white soup was the only choice. It was served the first time Frances came to dinner at Sandon Place, and she simply loved it. Frances knew her guests would thoroughly enjoy it. Next Mrs Hopwood suggested stewed beef steaks, bombarded veal, and roasted venison, which Frances agreed to as her mouth began to water at the thought. Roasted pork was added to the menu, along with mashed potatoes and assorted boiled vegetables, pippins in rice and syllabub for dessert, and as a special treat, white caudle to drink and restore her guests after such a grand feast.

Frances left the menu in the safe and capable hands of Mrs Hopwood and went in search of Stainton. She needed to discuss wine, port, sherry, and other hard liquors that she ought to serve, and he was the man to ask. She discovered Stainton, although very quiet and austere-looking, was indeed a very kind, soft-spoken man. He was full of advice and suggestions for Frances, which she took with grace and allowed him to compile the wine list himself.

Satisfied that everything was in order, all Frances had to do was to wait for the guest list from Edward. She would then order the invitations to be printed and sent out by the Royal Mail. She was so excited that she almost skipped into Edward’s study to see if he was there.

She found her husband at his desk reading through, what seemed to her, a mountain of papers. She did not wish to disturb him, so she crept inside and quietly sat down upon his favourite stuffed leather chair before the fireplace.

It was some minutes before he looked up and noticed her peacefully watching him as he worked. “How long have you been here?” he chortled.

“Just for a few minutes,” Frances replied as she languidly climbed out of the chair and made her way to stand behind her husband. She placed her hands upon his shoulders and gently made circular movements with her thumbs where his neck met his back. “What are you doing?”

“Hmm… That feels good! I did not realise how tense I was getting reading these documents.” Edward leaned back into her hands and waved his arm dismissively across his desk. “These are the reports that have been drawn up regarding the registration of existing slaves.”

“You mean to do with that bill you and Papa are pushing in Parliament?” she asked curiously, peering over his shoulder to see what she could read.

“Yes,” he replied physically relaxing beneath her fingertips.

“When will you be finished?”

“Anytime you wish me to, my dear,” he sighed.

“Good, because I have made all sorts of arrangements for your dinner party, and I would like for you to work on that list, please.” She peered around the side of him and gave him a cheeky grin.

“Already? You do work quickly!” He pushed his chair back and turned to face her. “And Frances,” he said as he took hold of her hands in his, “it is your party as much as it is mine. After all, you are the one doing all the work. I want you to enjoy it too.”

“Oh, I am! I am already, I assure you.” She had not thought of it before, but she truly was delighting in making all the arrangements. There was a satisfaction that came from it that she never expected to find. “I am certain that on the night itself, I should be enjoying myself quite as much as you and every single one of our guests.” She leaned forward and kissed him gently upon the lips. She hesitated before straightening up, breathing in the scent of him.

“Very well, but make sure you do. This is our first party as husband and wife.” He grinned with satisfaction.

Frances giggled with glee. “I promise!” She started to move away and tugged at Edward’s hands, encouraging him to stand up and follow her. “Come along and take tea with me, and I can help you compile a list of guests.”

Edward did not put up any resistance. His obedient “Yes, Mrs Emberton” made her laugh even more.

“Do you think we ought to invite your mother, Richard, and Grace?”

All of a sudden, the mood changed. Frances felt tension descend over the light-hearted, happy scene. Edward dropped her hand and avoided her eyes.

“What is it, Edward? Whatever is wrong?” She could see the worry written on his face.

“Your father will be there,” he said, as though that were sufficient explanation.

“Of course he will be there!” She laughed nervously. “But what does that signify?”

Edward breathed out heavily and his shoulders drooped as he did so. “Your father…” He uncomfortably rubbed the back of his neck, evidently wondering how to explain it to her, “he and my mother, they…”

“Don’t exactly see eye to eye,” Frances finished the sentence for him.

Edward snapped his head and eyes up to look at her. “Yes, that’s it exactly.”

“You think there may be some sort of unpleasantness between them at a dinner party?

His silence spoke volumes.

“Your mother would honestly behave in such a way?” Frances frowned. “I do not believe that for one moment!”

“Who knows what my mother will do if she is riled by your father, even at a dinner party.” He stepped forward and squeezed her upper arms. “Frances, I think it would be for the best if we kept our invitees to politicians and political connections only.”