Chapter Twenty-Two #2
Navan had had no place to rest his head while aboard the smaller ship, but he had known a half-day’s sleep in Bristol before letting a carriage, where he could rest as the coach rolled closer and closer to his personal heaven.
At long last, the carriage slowed and worked its way to a place before Beaufort House.
He looked up to where the master’s quarters were located and thought he saw the flick of the drapes, but he could not be confident.
He released the carriage door’s latch and let it swing wide as he set down the steps.
Unfolding his cramped body, he stepped down gingerly while testing his legs.
He reached into an inside pocket for a bag of coins to pay the driver, who had climbed down to assist with Beaufort’s trunk.
Then, he instinctively turned to the house just as the door swung wide.
A coach caught her attention when she turned for another look at the street.
The carriage slowed and moved to the side.
Annalise found herself reaching for the bedpost as her heart hitched higher.
She watched with interest as the coachman climbed down at the same time as the door opened and a dark-haired man permitted the steps to drop.
Her eyes filled with tears, but her heart knew instant joy.
“It is his lordship,” she whispered reverently as a smile claimed her lips.
Immediately, she was on the move, hurrying past the bewildered housekeeper to race through the hall—her skirt hiked higher than what was modest as she rushed to reach her husband.
“Mr. Cross! His lordship has come!” she called to the butler as she hurried down the stairs. “Mr. Holt! Assist your master immediately!” she ordered, but she had reached the front door before either servant.
Flicking the bolt lock with her thumb, she jerked the door wide and was on a run, all thoughts of comportment abandoned to her joy. “Beaufort!”
The door swung wide, and there she was in all her loveliness, her skirt hiked high, but Navan did not care what his neighbors thought.
Likely, at least half of them had already departed for the countryside and would be sorry to have missed this spectacle, but Navan had no complaints.
His wife responded from obvious affection for him, and he was a very fortunate man—maybe the most fortunate man in all of London.
Instead of offering a reprimand, Navan turned to greet her with a smile of appreciation as she launched herself into his waiting arms. She hit him so hard, he staggered backwards several steps before he locked his knees and gathered her to him.
“You came!” she declared as she pulled his head down to kiss him.
The English baron in him momentarily considered the spectacle they were creating, while the Irish earl in him declared, To hell with the English! He kissed her soundly, permitting a bit of happiness to claim his heart.
“I missed you terribly!” she declared with a blush on her cheeks—from their kiss or from her embarrassment at acting without forethought, he could not say, but she was the most beautiful creature he had ever encountered.
“I have missed you, as well,” he told her as they turned their steps towards the still open door.
“Welcome home, sir,” Mr. Cross said with a proper bow, while Mr. Holt scrambled to claim his trunk.
“I have already paid the driver,” he told Mr. Cross as he passed through his own door, realizing it was the first time this stately town house had felt like his home and not just a Beaufort property. “You might offer the man a small meal before he departs for Bristol.”
“Yes, sir,” Cross said with a flick of his hand as he sent another of the footmen to do Beaufort’s bidding.
Navan paused to look around the foyer. “You have been quite busy, my dear,” he said as he noted the new arrangement of items on the wall, along with a high polish on the picture frames and the armory. “I approve.”
He noted the smile growing on his wife’s lips and the nod of agreement from Mrs. Mayo, who said, “Her ladyship possesses an excellent eye for color and balance.”
“Although I knew of many of Lady Beaufort’s charms,” he declared while realizing his words would make his wife’s life easier, “I was not aware of her eye for organization until we were at Klare Manor, and it pleases me greatly. So many men in England are not so blessed.”
He had not released Annalise’s hand when he said, “Come along, my dear, and keep me company. I know you wish to learn of the new land steward at Klare Fields, and I wish to know how things have progressed since your arrival in London.” What he desperately required was her beneath him in his bed—perhaps for a week or more.
He tugged her along behind him as they climbed the stairs, both of them ignoring what was required of society.
“I heard from my Smithfield grandmother,” she said as they climbed, but her tone indicated she knew his intention.
“Then Marksman has spoken…” he said just as he pulled her into his quarters and kicked the door closed behind them. “Finally,” he groaned as he pulled her into his embrace again.
Did she love him? he wondered as he looked down upon her sweet features. It does not matter. You love her, and you will risk everything on that fact alone. He picked her up and dropped her upon his bed.
“First, us,” he ordered. “I have been without you too long. Later, we will discuss whatever is going through that pretty head of yours. For now, all I can consider is you are my future, and I am yours.”
She laughed, running her hands up his arms to caress his face. “This moment is perfect.”
He kissed her then and all the madness of the last month fell away.
They had barely left their quarters for four days, sharing meals in their joint sitting room and plenty of time in first his and then her bed and back again. Navan never thought it possible to experience desire so often, but he seemed never to know an end to his need for his wife.
They had discussed a number of subjects—what all she had accomplished in his absence, including redesigning parts of the garden, new drapes, rearranging furniture, a thorough cleaning, and so forth, as well as what he had set in motion in Ireland and the hiring of Mr. Travis Liam.
“I purchased a book,” she explained, “at Mr. Manfried’s shop called The Life and Perambulation of a Mouse, for it was the one my mother read to me nearly daily.
My grandmother had presented it to her, one of the few things Lady Alma was permitted to share with her daughter when my mother was sent away.
Though it was not the original book, I mailed the newly purchased one to her.
I would like it very much if we could one day visit with her.
I would despise it if she passed before we could reunite. ”
Navan lazily traced a line up and down her arm.
“Perhaps Lady Smithfield will consider coming to London with her son. Lord Smithfield will be required to return to London for the new session of Parliament, which begins on twenty-four November. If not, meaning I am not aware of the dowager viscountess’s health, we could travel to Staffordshire and visit over Christmastide. ”
Annalise propped herself up on her elbow to look down upon him. “I thought you would wish to go to Beaufort Court.”
He stroked her cheek with his fingertips. “We might travel to Beaufort Court once the weather improves. It is quite difficult to cross the Irish Sea when the winds off northern Europe decide to come calling. It will be cold enough in northern England.”
“That means listening to Alexander and Theodora,” she reminded him.
“I do not fear your over impulsive brother,” he said with a gentle kiss.
“Moreover, it would be good for me to become more familiar with Lord Smithfield. I believe we share common beliefs on several key issues in Parliament. Then, I imagine Duncan will wish all of us to be around for part of Christmastide. Mayhap Richard and Emma will have news of an expected child to share with us.”
“They have been married longer than the rest of us,” she said wistfully, hopefully considering the possibility of their own children.
“Is Mr. Manfried’s shop far?” he asked as he lay back on the pillow and brought her down beside him to rest her head on his chest. “Perhaps I should search for a book for Duncan there.”
“A bit shorter than a mile if one crosses the nearby park,” she explained as one of her fingers lazily circled his nipple.
“Did you walk alone?” he asked, though his mind was beginning to consider a more pleasurable activity.
“Mr. Holt escorted me.” She lightly kissed said nipple and, for a moment, Navan forgot their conversation completely. “Then I saw Mrs. Dove-Lyon on my return.” Her tongue made another circle. “She was very kind to me.”
Navan’s face screwed up in displeasure and all thoughts of intimacies raced away. “Mrs. Dove-Lyon spoke to you in a public park? That does not sound of the lady’s nature. I doubt she would speak to me in a public setting, nor would I be expected to speak to her. It is just not done, Annalise.”
“There were not many around,” his wife said in her defense. “I was glad she did.” Then she suddenly clapped her hand over her mouth as she sat up suddenly.
He lifted himself upward on his elbow. “My dear, why were you glad Mrs. Dove-Lyon spoke to you before others?”
“It is not important,” she declared. “I am not one of those wives.”
“Those wives?” he asked as he also pushed himself to a seated position. “I require an explanation.”
“It is nothing. I am fine,” she said, but tears flooded her eyes. “I am not so unaffected.”
“Why is it necessary for you not to be unaffected, my lady?” he asked in hard tones.
As she stood, she gathered her dressing gown and slid it over her shoulders, but she did not look at him. With her back turned, she said through her sobs, “Mrs. Dove-Lyon demanded that… that… another woman…”
He left the bed to stand behind her. He laced his arms about her to provide comfort. “Another woman?” he encouraged.
“I should have known,” she sobbed. “When I presented Madame Emmeline,” she sniffed loudly, “your card,”—another sniffle—“she said she once was employed by another…” A deep sigh. “She had seen your card previously for another…”
Navan swallowed his own sigh. “I released her, Annalise, more than a month before I asked you to be my wife.” He would personally strangle Julia Baldwin for bringing harm to his Annalise. “I do not love her. I love you.”
She turned suddenly. “You love me?” she asked as she threw her arms about his neck.
“Of course I love you,” he admitted reluctantly. Navan had always been afraid to love anyone unconditionally, for those he held in tenderness always left him behind.
“I love you also.”
She waited as if she wanted the words to sink in. Her mouth settled into a stubborn line, and Navan could not resist the smile forming on his lips.
He pushed her long hair behind her ears. “The Valkyrie has awakened at last. A warrior maiden who will decide my fate and bring me happiness, rather than Odin’s hell.”
“I do not think a married woman can be considered a maiden,” she warned with a bit of a tease.
“Either way,” he asserted, “all that matters is you love me, and you cannot be rid of me so easily as one might suppose.”