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She was close and warm and sweet-smelling beside him as they walked the short distance to the dining room. Jack found himself wondering what soap she used, what oils in her bath, what rinses for her hair. What would she look like in her bath, her hair wet around her, moulding her shoulders, her breasts, even as it veiled them? Her knees, pink with the heat, peeping out of the water...
This promising line of speculation took him as far as the table, all its leaves removed to reduce it to a size where they could converse down its length without needing to shout. He led Madelyn to the chair at the foot, then took his own place at the head. His grandfather’s place, the Earl’s chair. He thought he would have been pleased to see his younger grandson there. Roderick had never troubled himself with his grandparents. ‘The old man’s mad and the old lady’s a bore’ was his verdict. Jack doubted that they had set eyes on him since Roderick was seventeen.
‘The staff have done excellent work today, Partridge.’ he said as the butler proffered the bottle of champagne for his approval. The room was pristine after the wedding breakfast and the only unusual features remaining were the large vases of flowers on the sideboard and stands.
‘I will convey that to the Hall, my lord. The staff were most gratified by Her Ladyship’s message of appreciation earlier and are most grateful for the guinea apiece that you so kindly instructed Mr Lyminge to distribute to mark the happy occasion.’
‘I did? I mean, excellent.’ Jack raised an eyebrow in silent signal to Madelyn and she nodded. Thank goodness she had thought of that. He was unused to having a staff of more than two—a valet and a groom—but he should have realised how much work would be involved and how any gesture of thanks would be appreciated. Madelyn had had years of experience with staff and he had not realised how valuable that would be.
‘Pour the champagne, Partridge.’
Madelyn had ordered a simple supper, judging well how small an appetite they might have after the wedding breakfast. She certainly seemed to have l
ittle, he noticed as he ate an excellent poached plaice with green peas. He indicated her empty glass with a wave of his hand and the footman hurried forward with the wine.
It would help relax her. Eager though he was to make love to his new wife, Jack was conscious of a reluctance to deflower a virgin. He had no experience of inexperience, but he suspected that a bride who was passionately in love and blinded by that passion must be a far easier prospect than one who, however naturally sensual, was marrying as a matter of business.
Alcohol would help, he thought, but not for him. He laid his hand over his glass when the footman next approached with the bottle. He wanted all his wits about him, but Madelyn needed to be slightly in her altitudes, to use the common parlance for not quite drunk. Two glasses of sherry and two of champagne were probably one too many of each under normal circumstances, but this, he thought as he watched her taking a small spoonful of syllabub, was not normal.
Charles cleared the dessert plates and Madelyn began to stand. Paul, the other footman, was behind her in a moment, pulling out her chair.
‘I think I will retire, my lord.’
She did seem to be clutching the edge of the table rather fiercely. As he stood Jack saw how white her knuckles were. ‘An early night? That seems an excellent idea. I will be up shortly.’ He sat down, deliberately not staring at her, even when there was the sound of a slight scuffle in the doorway. She was nervous and shy and that was making her clumsy.
* * *
Madelyn was not quite certain afterwards how she got upstairs. She reeled into the bedchamber and sat on the edge of the bed with relief. ‘Harper, I feel very strange.’ She tried to focus on the maid’s concerned face.
‘Do you feel sick, my lady?’
‘Only when I close my eyes. But the room is moving.’
‘Excuse me asking, my lady, but what have you had to drink today?’
‘Samp... Champagne with the breakfast. Three glasses?’ she hazarded. ‘P’raps four? And then Partridge gave me some sherry this evening. So did Charles. Oh, and so did Jack. But that’s not very alco...alcoholic, is it? It was very sweet and fruity. Nice. And champagne with dinner.’
‘My lady, I think you are drunk.’
‘Nonsense. Can’t be.’ Madelyn frowned. Surely the candle flames should not be bending like that? ‘I do not get drunk.’
‘Perhaps you have never had so much to drink before, my lady. I think you had best get into bed.’ She seemed to Madelyn to be worrying quite unnecessarily about something. ‘Let me take down your hair, my lady, and help you out of your gown.’
Harper is very clumsy tonight, Madelyn thought as she sat down with a bump on the dressing-table stool, half-in and half-out of the flimsy bit of nonsense that she had been assured was just the thing for a wedding nightgown. It seems to be taking her for ever to get me undressed.
‘Which bed do I get into?’ she asked as Harper unravelled her plait and tried to brush the hair smoothly over her shoulders.
‘Yours, my lady.’
‘Are you sheer...sure? Shouldn’t I be in Jack’s bed?’
‘Quite sure, my lady.’ Harper almost bundled her in, plumped up the pillows behind her, smoothed down the coverlet. ‘I’ll be back in just a moment.’ She almost ran from the room, through the connecting door into Jack’s chamber.
‘Strange,’ Madelyn murmured to herself. But it was comfortable in bed and she did not feel too bad as long as she did not close her eyes. Perhaps she was ill, but she couldn’t seem to care. Where was Jack? She should be nervous, she remembered vaguely, but she wasn’t, which was odd. It had been so pleasant, sitting with him...
What was Harper doing? She could hear her talking to Tanfield next door, although not the words. She sounded quite agitated. Then Tanfield said, quite distinctly, ‘My lord’, and Harper came back in, positively wringing her hands. Very odd...
Perhaps she dozed for a moment or so because she could hear Jack now, talking to Harper.
