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Chapter 20
Robert stalked the hall of his London townhouse like a beast. He hadn’t seen his wife since this morning, and he missed her dearly. The urge to see her and hold her in his arms was overwhelming. Robert had never expected in his wildest dreams that she would become such a passionate and uninhibited lover. That first night when she insisted on her shift to be left on her when she tried not to move and bit her lips from crying out, it seemed like it was a completely different woman. And yet, she was the same. Only now could she playfully bite him on his neck and shoulders, sometimes deep enough to leave the marks on him.
He would chuckle to himself, finding another mark she’d left on his body in the looking glass or during the bath. She didn’t mind making love in the candlelight anymore. In fact, she unashamedly watched him now, devouring him with her gaze. She seemed curious to give him pleasure and seemed earnestly delighted when she found another one of his erogenous zones or when she did something that made him groan. She was playful and giddy in bed. It was never dull to bed her. Robert knew she was attached to him, she was attracted to him, and she definitely found bedding him pleasurable. Still, he wasn’t ready to test the limits of said attraction.
It was one reason he kept their interludes to the bed and otherwise tried to spend as little time as possible in her company. Since their lovemaking transformed after the incident in his study, he stopped sharing his plans with her anymore, discussed nothing concerning estates or anything else, and kept their conversations brief and polite. He was afraid that she’d tire of him, and more to the point, he was worried that the more she knew him, the more her attraction to him would fade. And he didn’t want to be too used to her, too dependent on her when that happened.
Women loved to spend time with him in bed. Other than that, he’d yet to meet a woman who fell in love with his intellect or character. That she hadn’t insisted on spending more time with him and seemed quite content with their arrangement was proof enough. Then there was the issue of her first love. The soldier, John. He tried to push the thought of him away and almost succeeded. But every so often, he would look down at the sleeping form of his wife and wonder, would she still be so content in his arms if John were back?
Some days he would sit in his study, discuss his work with solicitors, sit in Parliament, or drink at his clubs. All he wanted was to go to his wife, no matter where she was or what she was doing. Just to look at her, to speak with her, let the cadence of her voice wash over him. To make love to her on any piece of furniture that was closest, to brand her with his scent, his body, impress upon himself that she was his and only his. Which of course she was; she was his wife. No matter if she loved him or not.
But it did matter. Because as much as he tried to deny it, the truth was simple. He had fallen in love with her.
The idiot.
He heard footsteps on the top landing of the stairs and looked up. His wife stood there, wearing a shimmering blue dress, with bared shoulders and a low-cut neckline. Her coiffure was swept up in a crown on her head, with two or three loose tendrils hanging out in strategic places. Julie wore the sapphire jewelry the dowager gave her to wear, a family heirloom that fitted her perfectly, and long white gloves that complemented white beads in her hair and a white and blue fan. She took one step down slowly and looked back. That’s when he noticed Mary was right behind her. Smiling openly, puffy white skirts clutched in her fists.
She was wearing a white and silver high-waisted dress, white gloves, and a coronet with white roses on her head. She looked absolutely the picture of innocence. She did not know what awaited her in the Somerset ballroom, but she did not care. This was her debut. She was a flushing and giggling debutante like a regular girl, happy to make her come-out.
Robert cleared his throat. “You look wonderful,” he said with a note of wonder in his voice. “Both of you.”
“Why, thank you, My Lord,” his wife looked at him coyly from beneath her lashes. Mary just giggled an answer.
“Shall we?” Robert offered each of them an arm when they made it down the stairs.
“What about the dowager duchess?” Julie asked, looking around the room.
“She went on without us, Rutland sent a carriage after her. She decided it’d be best if she made an early appearance, seeing how we are always late.” He looked pointedly at his wife. “Besides, she thinks her early appearance will ease the way for us.”
“I agree.” Julie smiled before playfully tapping his arm with her fan, “But we are not late. Check your watch,” she smiled widely at him.
“I did.” Robert returned her smile with his gentle one. “And even by my superior watch, we are still late.”
Julie compressed her lips to keep from smiling.
“Are you nervous?” Robert turned to Mary. She shook her head. “Excited?” he grinned down at her.
Mary nodded vigorously. “My first ball!” She said, her eyes glinting.
“Indeed.” Robert settled them both in a carriage and climbed up behind them.
* * *
Julie wanted desperately for this night to go smoothly for Mary. In the carriage, Mary kept playing with her dance card, flipping it this way and that, explaining to Robert repeatedly that this was where her suitors would write their names to reserve a dance with her. Julie bit nervously at her lip. She explained the importance of said card to Mary earlier this evening when they were getting dressed. Mary looked so delighted to hear that gentlemen would line up and write their names to save a dance with her. Julie looked at her husband worriedly. She was afraid that this card would remain empty throughout the night. Her thoughts were interrupted as the carriage drew to a stop, and they alighted in front of Somerset townhouse.
There was a big crush of people outside, even more so on the inside. The place was filled with white flowers surrounded by branches of greenery. The whole area was covered with white and green hues aside from the yellowish lights of candles. It was obvious that Evie was the main decorator of the ball. She had impeccable taste, and the house looked as pure as innocence.
Julie did not have time to contemplate the beauty of the house, however. The moment they’ve reached the receiving line, they were whisked away by a footman who had instructions to bring them to the library.
“Finally, you are here!” Julie heard Evie’s voice. “I was beginning to worry I was going to have to walk down there by myself.”
“What are you talking about?” Julie wrinkled her brow for a moment before taking Evie’s hands in both of hers. “Oh, Eves, you look wonderful!” And she really did.
Her fiery red hair was swept up in an intricate chignon. A few wisps of curly hair hanging from her temple and at the nape of her neck. She wore an ice green chiffon dress with a layered skirt and beaded lace bodice. For an adornment, all she had was a silver chain with a pearl drop, long white gloves with ornaments at the ends, and a matching fan adorned with tiny pearls. She had a white lily in her hair, and her coiffure was kept in place with the pearl pins. She looked like a young princess of nymphs from the fairytales. Serene and regal, while her glowing green eyes, mischievous smile, and fire of a hair gave away her passionate nature.
“Thank you,” she curtsied to both Julie and Clydesdale and took Mary by the arm. “Mary and I will make our come-out together,” she said triumphantly.
“Evie, you can’t!” Julie’s eyes widened with shock. “We agreed we will go in earlier, let the dust set in for you to follow.”
