Page 37 of Maid for the Marquess

“This chair is large enough for two. The covering will keep you warm. I would enjoy having you close.”

She hesitated, and I held out my hand again, waiting for her to take it. She did, and I pulled her to my lap, wrapping the coverlet around her. She was stiff and uncertain, but I picked up the book I had selected. It was one I had seen her peruse more than once, so I knew it was a favorite of hers.

“Shall I read?”

“Please,” she murmured.

I handed her the sherry, took a sip of brandy, and opened the book. I began to read, and after a few moments, I felt her relax, her body molding to mine as I kept my voice low and soothing. When her glass of sherry was empty, I slipped it from her hand, placing it on the table. I gently cupped her head, tucking it to my shoulder and pressing a lingering kiss to her thick hair. “You smell so delightful,” I murmured. “Lilacs.”

“I make the scent myself,” she replied, her voice low and sweet. “The lilac trees were abundant around Cliffwood. They grew wild everywhere, and no one cared if I picked them. It was something my mother taught me.”

“I like it.”

“I like this,” she murmured.

She nestled into me, as if seeking my warmth. I adjusted my body, leaning back slightly so I could take more of her slight weight. I liked how she felt on my lap. Small and delicate. Needful of care. Seeking my touch. Unable to resist, I ran my hand over her tresses as I continued to read. She sighed in contentment, and I glanced down, seeing her eyes shut and a smile playing on her lips. She was fully relaxed, and I knew she would be asleep within moments. Resting in my arms as she ought to this night. Surrounded by me. Safe and peaceful.

That was the way I planned on her staying for the rest of our lives.

CHAPTER 13

MADELEINE

Iwoke the next morning, tucked into the bed of my new chamber. The room was lovely, facing the front garden, but days previous, I’d had a glimpse of the view from Alexander’s window. It was spectacular, looking out over lush fields and trees as far as my eyes could see. The scope of beauty here took my breath away. Last night, I had asked him if he ever thought to leave the heavy draperies open and gaze at the stars or watch the sunrise. He had studied me for a moment before shaking his head.

“I confess, I have not. Perhaps it is something we could do together.”

I had tried not to blush at his words. It was subtle, but I heard the innuendo behind his utterance. Once we laid together, I would be in his chamber—in his bed. The view would be mine.

And I would be his.

His statement he was not rushing our relations had been both a blessing and a curse. I was sheltered and innocent, although I saw the coupling of animals often in the barn. Still, I was not innocent enough to think that Alexander was without a past. He was too handsome and virile not to have had many interludes. I worried he would be bored with me and lose interest quickly at my lack of knowledge.

Aside from the occasional brush of his finger along my cheek or the press of his lips to my head or high on my cheek, he had not touched me. Yet every time he was close, every time our eyes met and he stared at me, I felt his desire. Last night was the closest I had ever been to another person. Wrapped in his embrace, his voice murmuring my favorite passages in my ear, I felt nothing but peace. Affection. Adoration perhaps.

And I wanted more.

The very sight of him caused flutters within my stomach. Watching him laugh made me want to smile. When he threw back his head, the corded muscles of his neck made me swallow, my own throat dry. I had never seen a man with such wide shoulders and long legs. Recalling how the heavy muscles felt under my touch when he had injured his foot made me wonder how all his muscles would feel. I yearned to touch him.

His hands fascinated me. Strong and capable with long, thick fingers, elegant, yet not only used to pen correspondence. He worked his own land. Tilled the soil and hammered in posts for fencing and even fed the animals.

There was nothing he could not do.

My favorite moments were when he would look at me. Speak to me in his low, modulated voice. Offer me his arm as we were walking. Tuck a stray curl behind my ear. Tease me. It made me feel giddy. The touch of his hand made me want more. I found myself staring at his mouth when he spoke, wondering how it would feel if he kissed me.

I had thought I would know this morning, but he had been a perfect gentleman.

He was right to decide we should be patient. Despite all the wonderful things I knew about him, at times, I was still frightened. I recalled hearing whispers of women who visited my father’s estate years prior, of how men acted one way to some people and mistreated their wives, believing them to be their property and theirs to do with as they pleased. I knew from experience how my father mistreated me, although he chose not to hide it.

I prayed Alexander was not that type of man. That the gentle soul I was beginning to know was the only side to him.

I could only wait to find out.

ALEXANDER

I walked into the study, tugging on my cravat. It had been a vexing morning, and I was tired of dealing with difficult servants, all the issues of the farms, and the vast amount of correspondence that kept flowing across my desk. All of it kept me from enjoying my new wife and getting to know her more. I was finding it quite frustrating only seeing her at dinner the past two nights. I headed toward the corner, intent on a tumbler of scotch, some peace and quiet, and a good luncheon. I poured the scotch and took a large mouthful, enjoying the taste of the rich amber liquid. The Scots could certainly brew a fine liquor.

A noise startled me, and I turned, seeing Madeleine, hovering beside the mantel. I frowned at her unexpected appearance.