Page 14 of Bedding the Marquess
Would their longstanding friendship be enough of a foundation?
He did not know the first thing about babies or children.
Could he be trusted to make the right decisions, to say the right things when his family required it of him?
Gideon had been alone for so long—had eschewed Society’s dictates with relish and savored their shock—he was unsure he could act any other way. He’d been so concerned with unfettered pleasures after a childhood so devoid of joy and security that he did not know if it was in him to be anything other than the unworthy man he’d been.
Regardless, he had to try.
After he’d deposited Caro at her townhouse and lingered long enough to ensure she was indeed all right after the confrontation, these thoughts struck him with a gravity he hadn’t been expecting.
It felt more real than when he’d procured the special license for their marriage.
It washed over him anew when he and Caro stood before the bishop and a very small gathering at Swanleigh House, which consisted only of their closest friends. Lords Kempton, Blackwell, Brinley, and Trenholm rounded out their sextet of hell-raisers. There was a decided lack of females present at the event, but Caro had assured him that all was well, saying she was the only woman patient enough to tolerate their lot.
Though he was supremely grateful for their friends’ support on that day, Gideon still felt the lack of family rather keenly—both his and Caro’s. Of course, his parents were deceased, and the day before had extinguished any flicker of hope that Caro’s parents might one day support their union, but he now knew there was someone else who shared his blood… It had crossed his mind to invite Oliver and his wife to the hasty ceremony, but he’d stopped just shy of it. It felt somehow too desperate…and awkward, given the fact that Oliver still had not contacted him. He didn’t want to exert any pressure upon the man, so he let it be and told himself he and Caro would be content having just their friends with them to celebrate.
Finally, his mind made a full stop when Caroline entered the room wearing a morning gown of the clearest blue in nature. The color complemented her pale skin and her rose-gold hair, which had been plaited and pinned to the back of her head in a simple, elegant style. The scooped neckline afforded a glimpse of just the right amount of cleavage to be fashionable and respectable. He had an instant flash of memory of kissing her just there, the delectable valley between those perfect globes…
He had to force his eyes upward and into her face, but that did nothing to calm his racing pulse. She smiled at him and the world faded away around them. It was no different than any other smile she’d shared with him over the years, and yet, it was entirely new. This was the smile of Caro, his soon-to-be wife. The mother of his unborn child. A woman he’d cared for, for years, and now, it was as if she’d been cast in golden light.
The bishop’s words passed in a haze. Gideon could hardly remember repeating the necessary phrases, slipping the slightly-too-large ring on Caro’s finger, and reminding himself that he would have it resized for her as soon as possible. And then the time came when the bishop instructed Gideon to kiss his new wife.
He actually froze.
Not because he did not wish to kiss Caroline, but because he was nearly overcome by how much he did. His abdomen flexed with the desire to taste her again, just like when they’d crossed the line of platonic friendship months before.
When he finally bent his head, he pressed his lips to hers in a chaste caress…but it was still as if he were tasting liquid fire. He found her as sweet as his hazy memory recalled. What he wouldn’t give to slip his tongue between her lips and lick into her mouth…
Gideon lingered longer than was perhaps proper for two friends marrying to legitimize an accidental pregnancy, but he could not bring himself to care. The second she softened against him, however, he had to force himself to pull back lest he lose control before their audience.
Following the ceremony, there was a simple wedding breakfast during which Blackwell clapped Gideon on the shoulder, his dark eyes dancing with mirth as he said, “I’ll be honest…we’ve all been placing bets on when the two of you would end up together.”
“Of course you were,” Gideon replied with a roll of his eyes.
“Thick as thieves, as they say,” added Lord Kempton.
“And I won,” crowed Brinley.
Gideon and Caro shared a knowing look. The kiss at their ceremony had been the first time they’d touched in any way other than friendship since their shared night. They’d decided to keep the truth of their rushed marriage a secret, but they both knew the rumors would spread quickly enough. They were already suspected of having an illicit affair. Why else would a marquess need to marry a woman in haste? They agreed not to give any satisfaction to the tabloids, however, and remain as tight-lipped as possible when it came to the pregnancy.
Gideon and Caroline were seen off with ribald jabs and friendly winks—none of their friends being aware that the sum of their sexual history was a single night. They accepted them all in stride and with good humor, both avoiding contemplating too much what would be expected of them that evening.
As Gideon finishedseeing their guests out, Caroline followed Gideon’s housekeeper—theirhousekeeper—to the upstairs bedchamber that would be hers. The marchioness’s quarters consisted of a beautiful corner suite with a flood of glorious natural light. There hadn’t been time to completely redecorate the room in preparation for her arrival, but the windows had been opened and the room, aired; every surface had been thoroughly dusted; the linens were new; her belongings sent over from her townhouse had been carefully unpacked and put in their proper places. Vases of fresh flowers were set beside the bed, on the escritoire, and on the tables in the adjoining private sitting room—pink roses, her favorites. She didn’t doubt that Gideon had had a hand in that touch, and it made her skin tingle from head to toe.
Her maid, whom she’d brought with her to Swanleigh house, helped her undress and prepare for bed. Each passing minute caused Caroline’s anxieties to swell. She was nervous—more nervous than the night she and Gideon had first shared a bed; probably because she’d spent her entire wedding day painfully sober and achingly aware of what was supposed to lie ahead once she had a husband. Consummation of the union was not only expected but a necessary part of the marriage contract.
She’d lain awake the entire evening prior, kept awake by fevered memories of Gideon holding her and touching her, kissing her, like he had that first and only night. A night that now felt like a lifetime ago.
Regrettably, they hadn’t expressly discussed what would happen after their nuptials—would they truly live as man and wife, or would her pregnancy suffice as consummation enough? Would they share a bed, or would they live only as friends from then on? And what if the babe she carried was female—would he wish to try for a male heir? Would that coupling be purely transactional, or might it be as transcendent as the night they’d already had?
At once, Caroline dreaded the answers to those questions, even while desperately wishing to know them. She did not doubt Gideon cared for her, but she knew nothing of what might happen—what might change—between them now that they were wed. She knew what she desired and how she felt about him. She cared deeply for him. He held her heart, whether he knew it or not. She longed for little else above being once more held safely in his arms. She only wished she knew what he was thinking.
Sitting before the low-burning hearth, Caroline pressed her palms to her flat abdomen and wondered how much longer she would have to wait until she felt the little life growing inside of her. The physician had told her it could be a few months yet, but she hoped it would be sooner. For a woman who’d spent nearly adecade believing that she would never make a respectable match or bear children, this was a novel situation…and she ached to have evidence of it. The physician she’d seen had confirmed the pregnancy with as much certainty as the limitations of medicine could, but it didn’t feel real. None of it did. Even the wedding had felt like a fantasy as she strode across the room, through the small gathering of their friends, and toward a darkly handsome Gideon dressed all in black and white, as immaculate as always.
And now, in the eyes of the law, he was all hers.
She’d never harbored serious fantasies of marrying the man who’d been her closest friend for years. Of course, she’d been attracted to him from the start—had felt enough for him to want him to be the man she invited to her bed—but this… This was beyond even her wildest imaginings.
