Page 25 of The Marchioness of his Desire
“Your own bedroom and a nursery too, I am sure, but what is even more special is that our uncle will no longer be constantly making his presence felt. We shall both have freedoms such as we have never enjoyed before,” she said, smiling at Laura, who looked happier than ever before.
Whatever the merits of this marriage, Rebecca was pleased that her sister could now have the life which she deserved, a life free from the clutches of their uncle and the cruel taunts and jeers which had been so much a part of the day to day ever since they were left as orphans.
“Come along. I shall show you around,” Nicholas said, helping them down from the carriage and leading them up the steps.
The housekeeper was waiting to greet them, a portly lady with a ruddy face and wide smile. She greeted them both, promising to have a cup of warm milk sent up for Laura and telling Rebecca that she could ask for anything she needed.
“You are very kind,” Rebecca replied, and the housekeeper laughed.
“It is nice to have a mistress so appreciative,” she said as Nicholas led them inside.
The hallway was lavishly furnished with items from Nicholas’s travels. Large masks decorated the walls and a great leopard skin lay in front of the fireplace. Stairs led up to a landing above, and three doors led off the hallway, one of which he led them through, opening up into a library and sitting room, the window of which looked out onto the street.
“This room will be at your disposal, for I have my study and would ask not to be disturbed when I am working,” he said, and Rebecca nodded.
“But surely you will not be working all of the time?” she asked, and he made no direct reply.
“We shall take our meals together, though at times I will be away, and then you and Laura will be here alone, apart from the servants,” he said, and Rebecca looked at him curiously.
It sounded like a mere arrangement, a formality, rather than a marriage. There was a nervousness to him, a sense of trying to assert his position as though he had shouldered an unwelcome burden, rather than married the woman he loved.
“And at other times?” she asked, and he paused.
“Well … you shall have your interests, no doubt, and your friends will call upon you. I am a busy man, and we shall share those things which are … pertinent,” he said, making as if to leave.
“But what now?” she asked, confused by his dismissive attitude.
“I will leave you to settle in; I will see you later,” he said and hurried out of the room.
“Look at all the books, Rebecca,” Laura said, oblivious to the awkwardness with which Nicholas had left the room.
“It is most impressive,” Rebecca replied, trying to force her face into a smile while feeling as if her heart would break.
* * *
Later that evening, Rebecca and Laura dined alone. The housekeeper, whose name was Mrs. Thrip, presented them with a soup, followed by slices of meat and roast potatoes which, though tasty, was hardly the celebratory dinner which Rebecca had expected. Indeed, there seemed to be little celebration in the day which was meant to be the happiest of her life.
“Is Lord Somerset joining us?” Rebecca asked, and the housekeeper frowned.
“He said that he was not to be disturbed, my Lady, and that he would take his dinner in the study. I am sure you will see him later,” she said as she cleared away the plates.
It was later that Rebecca was worried about, knowing that the marriage was not complete without its consummation. This was something which she, Samantha, and Catherine had talked of at length. The expectation of it was enough to arouse her nerves as well as her excitement.
“They say it is quite painful – the first time, I mean,” Samantha had said, and Catherine had agreed.
“And far more enjoyable for the man than for the woman,” Catherine had added, words which had hardly instilled confidence in Rebecca, who was already wary of what would occur on the first night of her marriage.
Would those same feelings she had felt in the library be aroused once again? Would the passion of the act be as intense and pleasurable? Nicholas had shown such little interest in her that day that Rebecca could hardly imagine him able to rouse himself in the same manner by the evening. Was it only scandal and drunkenness which caused his passions to flare? It worried her for the rest of the evening, and, having bid goodnight to Laura, who lay down happily to sleep in her new bedroom, Rebecca returned to her chambers to await the arrival of Nicholas.
* * *
The clock on the mantelpiece struck ten o’clock, and an owl hooted in the distance across the garden, which lay below the window of her chambers. Lyddie had helped her to prepare, combing down her hair and bringing hot water and soap for her to bathe.
But, as she glanced at the clock, Rebecca began to wonder whether Nicholas was coming. Was he deliberately keeping her waiting? She wondered if this was part of the ritual, the building of desire, or whether he had any intention of coming at all.
It pained her to think that this was indeed the marriage of convenience he had claimed. In his drunken state, Nicholas had spoken of the past, of the love he had for her and of his regrets in not marrying her. But now that the deed was done, it seemed more like an arrangement of mutual convenience than the passion of that scandalous kiss. Where was the flame between them? The spark of passion she had felt? She yearned for it, but how could a marriage work if one party had no true passion for the other?
A tear ran down her cheek, and she began to sob, lamenting ever agreeing to the proposal if this was how she was to be treated. She could not bear the thought of a lifetime of rejection at the hands of a man she loved and could fall ever more deeply in love with, if only he would reciprocate her feelings. With a sigh, she snuffed out the candle on her bedside table, climbing beneath the blankets and closing her eyes.
