The Baron's Wife Page 3

“I have visited them all, and more.”

  “Then you may not wish to view them again.”

  He smiled. “But I would. I’d love to show them all to you.”

  She gasped when his hand squeezed her waist, which seemed like an act of possession. Leaning forward, he took her chin in his big hand and gazed into her eyes, his warm and imploring. “Will you think about it, at least?”

  His deep voice beguiled her, and she was dismayed at the magnitude of her own desire, even as a warning voice in her head urged her to delay. “I would not want to raise your hopes.”

  He lowered his head to hers. “You already have.”

  He meant to kiss her. She closed her eyes, inviting his touch. His mouth grazed her earlobe and feathered soft kisses across her cheek, then firm lips claimed hers. He inhaled sharply. His strong arms encircled her, his kiss masterful, practiced. But there was raw hunger in his kiss too, along with intent. She was shocked by the awakening response he stirred within her.

  He ended the kiss, his mouth hovering close to hers, his breath warming her lips where the imprint of his remained. “Say yes, Laura. We’ll have a wonderful life together.”

  She was annoyed to find herself trembling. She must not forget what such a life could mean. Village life would never equal the excitement of London. She would be isolated from like-minded people. She might feel more trapped than she did now.

  Laura pushed him gently away, for when he was close, he consumed her thoughts. “I need time. It’s too soon.”

  “Do you believe in destiny?”

  “I suppose I do.”

  “I believe we were destined to be together.”

  She couldn’t discount it entirely, the way she’d been drawn to him from the moment they met. She’d never felt that for any man. She wanted very much to be with him. But she didn’t fool herself why that was. They shared a strong physical attraction. Still, what he offered was exciting. To become his baroness and live in an ancient home. The cost was her liberty. Might she have the romance without marriage?

  Laura sank against him, wanting him to kiss her again, her deep breaths failing to calm her. She sought to offer some form of argument, to slow things down, but her mind, usually so clear, became befogged at what she saw as his assault. He rushed her, overwhelmed her, and she suspected he meant to. And he would continue until he got what he wanted. She already knew that about him. Men born into privilege never expected anything less.

  He cradled her face in his hands and plundered her mouth again more urgently, his breath deepening. The carriage rocked as it negotiated a corner. Laura had no idea where they were, or who might see them behaving so scandalously. Neither did she care. She slid her fingers through the silky hair at his nape and returned his kiss, desire unfurling, warming her body.

  It was he who drew away. “I think it best we stop.” He reclaimed her hand and knitted his long fingers with hers.

  Regaining her breath and what was left of her composure, Laura sank back into a corner of the carriage, a heartbeat away from his disturbing presence.

  “There’s an exhibition of Art Nouveau style at the Grafton Gallery in Mayfair tomorrow. Is it of interest to you?”

  He knew just how to entice her. “Yes. I saw it advertised.”

  “Then see it with me. Tomorrow afternoon at two. Your mother might like to accompany us.”

  “Perhaps she would. Thank you.”

  Her mother would be overjoyed. If Laura sent him back to Cornwall without seeing him again, her life at home would become unbearable. And even though she couldn’t marry him, she did want to spend more time in his company.

  ***

  “I’ve sent Mary to bed.” Mother had waited up for her, and as Laura undressed, she told her about his invitation, but not his proposal. “Lord Lanyon has invited you too, Mother.”

  “I’m to arrange the flowers in the church tomorrow. He was the perfect gentleman? He didn’t behave inappropriately?”

  “Of course not.” Trying to settle her own rampaging emotions was enough. She could not deal with her mother’s.

  “Lord Lanyon’s intentions would be entirely honorable. You have no need of a chaperone.” She hung up Laura’s dress. “Do you like him, Laura?”

  “He’s interesting.”

  “Find out more about Wolfram. Get to know him.”

  “I’m not considering marriage, Mother.”

  “It’s what he obviously expects. He’s a busy man. You should not give him a false impression.”

  Was she? Laura suffered a wave of guilt. She only knew that she would be deeply disappointed not to see him again.

  Chapter Three

  The next afternoon, Lord Lanyon accompanied Laura around the gallery. She had a refusal prepared should he press his suit again, but he did not mention it. She felt oddly piqued. Had he given up on her so easily?

  The exhibition proved fascinating. The William Morris collection absorbed her, and when they left, she bubbled over with enthusiasm. He agreed with most of her comments while revealing a good eye for color and design.

  As the carriage approached her home, she found it extremely difficult to end their association.

  “I have the day free tomorrow,” he said. “I fancy a picnic if it remains fine. Might I entice you to accompany me to Richmond Park?”

  She should refuse him. Cut it off cleanly now. And with words to that effect forming in her mind, she met his sensual gaze. “That sounds perfectly lovely,” she found herself saying. “I’m not sure it will be permitted, however.” Laura hoped her mother would agree. It appeared that she wasn’t ready to see him walk out of her life. Quite yet.

  “I shall reassure your parents that I will take good care of you,” he said with his usual confidence.

  And of course, his confidence was well placed. Her mother beamed when Laura asked her. “Yes, you may go. Your virtue shall be perfectly safe in a carriage. Richmond Park will be filled with visitors during this dry spell.”

  Mother immediately turned her attention to Laura’s clothing. “The bronze straw trimmed with feathers and flowers, I think.” She tapped her chin with a finger. “Teamed with the flannel Eton jacket and skirt in Dresden blue over a lawn shirt-waist. Dressy, yet suitable for an informal outing.”

  After telephoning the next morning to confirm, Nathaniel arrived, dashing in cream wool trousers, a striped gray and white coat with silver buttons, and a straw boater on his dark hair. They traveled in a brougham, a carriage following behind. It was perfect weather for a picnic, the sky a deep Wedgewood blue and barely a cloud in sight.

  Her white parasol shielded her face from the sun, as Laura strolled with him along a meandering path through a meadow of wild grasses, thick with bluebells and harebells. Behind them, two servants carried a wicker basket into a grove of oak trees where King Henry VIII hunted deer centuries ago. A herd still grazed over a rise, a huge stag keeping guard. It occurred to Laura that Lanyon might have brought someone here before. He seemed sure of his destination. They passed a family party gathered beside the pond, the air filled with the children’s sweet voices as they tossed bread to the ducks.

  A servant spread out the rug in a sheltered spot, while shooing away a gray partridge intent on building a nest. The hamper was unpacked, and the champagne cork popped. Then they were alone.

  “I trust this will be sufficient. My hotel prepared it.” A feast of ham, roast fowl, lobster, bread rolls, salad, and strawberries and cream for dessert.

  She laughed. “My goodness. We could feed an army.”

  Laura sipped chilled champagne from a crystal flute, while very aware of the big man beside her.

  Despite her need for independence, the significance of her carefully laid out plans seemed to diminish when she was with him, her gaze constantly drawn to him. Was she foolish to consider that married life might offer her more freedom than that of a spinster? Her parents’ marriage hardly inspired confidence. Her mother seemed content to assist her father socially in his career
. If she ever had dreams of her own, she’d never spoken of them.

  Laura was caught by his male strength and grace as he spread his long legs over the rug, a respectful distance from her. She took a bite of lobster, which was fresh and cold and smelled of the sea. She’d never been to Cornwall.

  “Your mother told me that you lost your sister to illness,” he said, his eyes filled with sympathy. “I wanted to say how sorry I am.”

  “Almost three years ago, now.”

  It seemed less, for Liza had been taken from them so quickly. She and her sister hadn’t shared the same interests. While Laura’s time was spent reading books, studying art and playing tennis, Eliza and Mother enjoyed decorating the new house and spent hours discussing clothes while studying the fashion magazines. But she and Eliza had still been extremely close. When Laura was in low spirits, Eliza buoyed her up and vice versa. Laura swallowed. Death was so final; it made a mockery of planning the future.

  She pushed her plate away. “Did your wife die from an illness?”

  “No. A fall.”

  By his tone, she gathered it wasn’t something he wished to discuss. He wiped his hands on the linen napkin and propped himself on his elbows. “We might help each other to put the sad past behind us.”

  Laura sucked in a breath. He made it sound very appealing. Despite his relaxed pose, Laura sensed the restless energy in him, as if he could spring into action at any moment.

  “I have yet to have your answer to my proposal,” he said. “But first, is there something that concerns you? Anything you’d like to ask me?”

  She’d lain awake the night before, trying to understand her own mind. She needed to know more about his life, what his marriage had been like. Had he recovered from her death? It would be inappropriate for her to ask. Now was not the time to speak of the departed. Laura felt alive and sensed he felt the same. “Tell me more about Wolfram,” she asked instead.

  “It was once an abbey. Wolfram was built in the most glorious place on God’s earth.” His voice held a rasp of pride. “I can’t put its appeal into mere words. You must see it.” His gaze caught hers. “Do you want to see it, Laura?”

  “I’ve never seen the sea.”

  Her attraction to him had been powerful and immediate, and not merely physical. There was so much more that drew her to him. Laura had forced herself to contemplate how she’d feel if she sent him away then read about his marriage in the social pages of The Times. Her chest tightened at the surprising sense of loss.

  “I promise to worship you, body and soul, Laura Parr.” His heavy-lidded gray eyes held an invitation to more earthly pleasures than spiritual.

  She touched her bottom lip with her tongue. An ache had been sparked by that first indelible kiss in the carriage. A searing need which was new to her. “Do we have to marry? I rather thought we might become lovers.”

  Raising his gaze from her mouth, his eyes widened and he chuckled. “Lovers?”

  Embarrassed, Laura toyed with her hat. “I don’t find it amusing.”

  “A gently reared young woman like you, my mistress?”

  “I fail to see how the way I was raised has anything to do with it.”

  His eyes darkened, grew serious. “You were meant to be a wife, not a mistress. Revered by her husband, not treated like a whore.”

  He expressed it so brutally. He meant to, she was sure. Under Laura’s numb fingers, a daisy fell off her hat. She flicked it away; she’d never liked the shape of the straw anyway. “I’ve never wanted to be tied to anyone.”

  Nathaniel pushed himself into a sitting position as if he was ready to leave. Was he irritated? “My dear Laura, you are innocent in the ways of the world. If I wanted a mistress, I would look for someone very different from you.”

  She flushed. “Because of my inexperience?”

  He nodded. “That, and other…considerations.”

  “Am I not desirable enough for a mistress?”

  “You are most desirable. If we were not in plain sight, I could show you how much. I might still…” He leaned forward and kissed her. The noise of people enjoying the sunny day beyond the shrubbery receded as her pulse pounded in her ears. She breathed him in, the smell of clean male overlaid by his fresh cologne. How quickly he’d become familiar to her. It was a restrained kiss, but her blood still sang through her veins.

  He edged a respectable distance away. “Say yes. Or I’ll kiss you again, and this time, your reputation may well suffer.”

  Laura almost shivered at his threat. It was vexing how unsophisticated he made her feel. She could throw caution to the wind here on this blanket in broad daylight, but he was quite controlled. She admitted to being hopelessly beguiled. It appeared that marriage would be her only choice if she wanted him in her life. And she did. “I’ll marry you, Nathaniel.”

  His gray eyes sparkled, and he raised her hand to his lips. “Darling, I promise you will never come to regret it.”

  She realized in that moment that he’d been confident of her answer. Was she so easy to read?

  He sat back, and a corner of his mouth twitched. “I have to ask. You’re not marrying me just to escape your mother, are you?”

  Laura gave a gurgle of laughter. “A little perhaps.” She studied his face, the strong chin, his sensual mouth and lustrous black hair. She wanted to ask him if he believed in love at first sight, but she feared he would accuse her of youthful romanticism. “I like the idea of standing by your side, aiding you in your endeavors.”

  He raised his eyebrows, a grin tugging at his lips. “I like that too.”

  “And should I wish to do more,” she continued, testing the waters. “You would permit it?”

  He leaned forward and kissed her nose. “Providing you don’t go off on your own to study art in some foreign city, or take a lover.”

  There was a steely note beneath his words. Laura felt confident she would never wish for another lover; the man before her would fulfil all her dreams of love. But she had inherited her determination from her father. And one day she would take up the suffrage cause again, when the time was right.

  Nathaniel jumped to his feet. He leaned down to take her hands and drew her to her feet. “Now I must do the proper thing and ask your father for your hand.”

  His servants appeared and began to pack things away. There was so much food uneaten. “Could the food be given to the poor?” she asked. “Or a children’s orphanage?”

  He smiled. “It will be done.”

  They walked back to the carriage hand in hand. Her parents would be pleased. Her mother especially. While she could never take the place of Eliza, perhaps distance would improve their uneasy relationship. Her pulse thudded as life blossomed like a rose opening to the sun. Admittedly, Nathaniel had wooed and enticed her to accept him. But she no longer feared landing herself in a dreary marriage in a remote part of England. No place where Nathaniel was could ever be dreary. And she looked forward to a chance to become fully herself; to immerse herself in a new world where her energy and need to be useful could make a difference, and with a husband she was already half in love with.

  ***

  After departing from his newly betrothed’s residence with Lord and Lady Parr’s best wishes for his marriage to their daughter, Nathaniel leaned against the leather squab and crossed his arms, his doubts reappearing to plague him. He had not been entirely honest with Laura. He had little faith in a happy marriage. Was it wrong to hope he could offer her a good life, while not giving too much of himself? His parent’s marriage ended in scandal and disaster. He could still taste the sour horror of betrayal and refused to be hurt deeply again. For all her bravado, spirit and intelligence, Laura was an innocent. She must be protected while Wolfram remained a cauldron of unrest.

  He placed his booted foot over his knee and sighed. It was done. There was no going back, and he didn’t wish to. Laura’s effect on him was like water to a man dying of thirst. She lifted his spirits and imbued him with an emotion that had bee
n absent for a long time: hope. But try as he might, he still couldn’t shrug off the fear of what he might have unleashed into her life.

  Chapter Four

  Laura sat across the table from her aunt in her Camden townhouse. The room was a riot of flowers, birds and peacock feathers on curtains, sofa cushions, rugs and the wallpaper. The furniture, carved with flowers and feathers, was stained to a black ebony finish and gilded, and the blue and white porcelain stacked on the shelves displayed a similar theme. Vases of lilies perfumed the air, and pots of orchids lined the windowsill.

  In the midst of this exotic splendor, Laura’s sweet-faced Aunt Dora appeared like a plain brown bird in her shapeless linen dress.

  Laura swiveled the large solitaire diamond ring on her finger, causing a brilliant flash of color. “Mother doesn’t want me to contribute anything to this wedding. I had to fight her tooth and nail to wear a tailor-made suit to Cornwall. Perfectly suitable for train travel, but she is firmly of the belief that men hate to see women in suits. She finally agreed when I chose pink brocade from the House of Redfern.”

  “Catherine is in her element. You can’t deny her this moment, Laura.” Although Aunt Dora refrained from mentioning that there would be no more weddings after Laura’s, it hovered in the air.

  Laura took a bite of crumpet while her aunt poured her another cup of tea. She loved to come to this cluttered little house. Her visits to her aunt, a well-respected poet, often proved to be a delightful surprise, especially when her rooms were crammed with artists and writers. Oscar Wilde had once attended one of Aunt Dora’s soirées.

  Her aunt’s sleek black cat leapt onto her lap and stared unblinking at Laura with marble-like green eyes. “Not now, Satan.” Dora lowered the cat to the floor. The animal stalked away with a malevolent glance in Laura’s direction.

  “He is a widower, you say. What was his wife like? Does he speak of her?”

  “No, just that she died in a fall. I got the impression that he didn’t wish to talk about it, and so I didn’t pry.”

  “Well, you have a right to know what you’re getting yourself into. It would be nice to learn if he had a happy marriage, don’t you think? I believe if a man is a good husband for one woman, he will be again for another.”