Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
R oderick hadn’t known what to expect during his wedding. He’d actually be avoiding thoughts of the ceremony all together. But when the doors to the chapel opened at nine a.m. and Clarissa stepped in on the arm of her father, his heart almost stopped.
She was wearing a beautiful gown. White, of course, because she never wore anything but white, it seemed. It cascaded over her curves, the bodice covered with lace and champagne frills. Her hair was done to frame her face, her very pale face, he noticed as she came closer and closer. Her lovely face.
This wasn’t what he’d dreamed of, but in that moment, he wasn’t upset or angry or disappointed. There was no room for any thoughts but of her. When her father reached them and extended her hand to Roderick, he took it, squeezing gently to offer her comfort. In that moment, her expression softened, her smile became more genuine and she squeezed back.
They faced the vicar, happily not the one from the country estate who had interrupted their kiss, but the one from Roderick’s London parish. The man droned away about the purpose for marriage, the goodness of fruitfulness. Roderick didn’t pay attention to any of it, he just watched Clarissa’s face, noting every little twitch and blush. Every blink that lowered her long lashes over those lovely brown eyes with the hidden green he couldn’t stop searching for.
She said the words the vicar required. He did the same and then it was over. They were declared man and wife at last and turned toward the crowd of gathered family. Well, her family. He had so little family left. Her mother and father were beaming, obviously smug that their plans had worked. George was there, of course, his expression a little troubled, though he smiled at Clarissa as if to encourage her.
Roderick guided her down the aisle, outside where a few friends waited to throw flower petals and strangers waited for him to throw the coins that would bring luck to the union. Since he needed all he could find, he did so, watching as the children scrambled to collect them.
Then he helped Clarissa into his carriage and followed, the church bells fading behind them as they rolled off across town to his home. Their home, he supposed now. The one she hadn’t even seen yet, due to the odd insistence of her parents to keep them separated before they wed.
She worried the hem of her glove a little and then glanced up at him. “I’m sorry,” she said.
His brow wrinkled. Was that truly going to be their first interaction as man and wife? He didn’t want it to be. Didn’t want her first memory as his countess to be one laced with guilt. But since he had no idea what to say to her in that moment when she looked so utterly beautiful and so fully broken, he instead leaned across the distance between them, gently cupped her cheeks and did what he’d been dreaming of for almost ten days.
He kissed her.
C larissa hadn’t been expecting the kiss, but now that it was happening she was yanked back to the first time he’d truly kissed her in the library. To all the desire, that was what her friends said it was, that had risen up in her. It returned immediately now, making her hands shake, and her stomach flip. She rested her palms against his chest, gripping at the lapels of his fine jacket for purchase and leaned in closer.
He made a soft sound from his throat and then his mouth opened, his tongue tracing hers gently. It was almost a question, a request to let him in. She did and tasted minty freshness on his breath, felt the rough stroke of his tongue against hers that suddenly made the carriage too hot and close.
This was what Marianne and Esme had spoken to her about. These flutters and heated aches. They would only grow, become more intense, make her ready for whatever he would do to claim her as his wife. She shivered at the thought and he drew away with a heavy-lidded expression.
“You are so beautiful, Clarissa,” he said softly, and gently tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
She shivered again at the intimacy of that featherlight touch. “Th-thank you. And you are very handsome.”
He smiled a little. “Was that painful to admit?”
She laughed and suddenly the tension bled away. Strange that he could do it so easily. “No, my lord,” she chuckled.
“Good, my lady .”
She blinked. “Oh my, I suppose people will address me as such now, won’t they?”
He laughed again. “Yes, because you are a countess. My countess, if you want to be specific about it.”
“I think specificity is a must in these circumstances,” she teased back. She stared at her hands then, still resting on his chest. She drew them away and worried them in her lap. “I-I hope I’ll be good at it.”
His brow knitted and he moved to her side of the carriage slowly. She slid over to offer him space and he put his arm around her. A comfort, though she never would have pictured she would appreciate it so much when she’d first met him and told herself to despise him for being unmannerly. In this moment, all he was was gentlemanly. Kind.
“You will be, Clarissa. I’ve no doubt of that.” He sighed and tucked her a little closer to him. “I wish your parents had allowed you to visit my home earlier, because we’ll have to have a truncated introduction to the servants before our guests arrive for the wedding gathering.”
She worried her lip. “I believe they feared that if you spent too much time with me before the marriage, you might change your mind.”
He stared at her. She fought not to show her hurt at that fact. Her parents had said it more than once. She’d overheard it and also had it stated directly to her face. In truth, she had feared it could be true, considering what he’d confessed about true love when they were in her bed chamber in the countryside.
He touched her chin and gently turned her face toward his. “Christ, I thought they just didn’t want us making a united front against them. If they actually said such a horrid to you, I want to disabuse you of that notion. I never would have changed my mind. There is nothing you could have done or said that would have made me do so. You’ll find I’m a man of my word, whatever my other faults are.”
She swallowed hard. With his face so close to hers, all she could think about was kissing him. Lordy, one wedding and she was a wanton, forgetting all propriety.
“I believe you, I think,” she said.
He laughed. “You think. I’ll take that. Oh, we’re approaching the estate now.” He pulled the curtain away from the carriage window and together they leaned toward it so she could see the beautiful home coming into view as a black gate opened to allow them entry.
“Oh, Roderick,” she breathed. “It’s wonderful.”
He said nothing, but was beaming at the compliment that was entirely meant. It truly was a glorious mansion, almost sparkling white in the autumn sunshine, its massive stone front supported by tall, beautifully carved pillars. Slightly behind the grand entrance she could see the hint of a rounded roof.
“There’s a rotunda?” she breathed.
He nodded. “Yes. As well as a beautiful garden and a library in that very rotunda that is to die for.”
“Better and better! I cannot wait to see it all,” she gasped, and grabbed his hand with both of hers briefly before she blushed and released him. “My apologies. I’m clearly overwrought.”
His brow wrinkled. “You shouldn’t apologize for having a reaction to your new home. If you had been staid and unfeeling, I would have been nervous.”
The carriage had stopped by now and the servants came down to open the door. Roderick gave her one last smile and exited first, then reached back to help her down himself. When she was safely on the ground, staring up in wonder at how much more beautiful the home was with every look, he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and led her to the front door where a line of servants waited for them.
She tensed. What they all must think of her when everything had been so sudden and rushed. But they were smiling and as Roderick swiftly introduced her to them, they all gave little bows or curtsies.
“And this is my butler, Stevenson. Stevenson, may I present the Countess of Kirkwood.”
“My lady,” Stevenson said and gave a low bow. “How happy we are to greet you at last.”
She stepped forward. “I’m very pleased to be here, Stevenson. What a wonderful home you and your staff have kept. I cannot wait for you and his lordship to give me the full tour.”
The butler smiled broadly and it softened his stern face. “I will be pleased to do so, my lady, and give you all the history of the place that you can bear. Perhaps tomorrow?”
She nodded. “Oh yes! I very much look forward to it.”
“All is ready, my lord.” He said to Roderick.
“Thank you, Stevenson. The throng should be shortly behind us. I’ll take the countess to her chambers in case she needs a moment and we’ll join the others shortly.”
“Very good.” Stevenson stepped away and Clarissa looked up at Roderick.
“Ready?” he asked softly.
She hesitated. “Not exactly, but I’ll follow your lead.”
Something lit up in his gaze and for a moment she forgot her breath. But he said nothing and simply guided her down the long hallway, past rooms she had to fight not to look into, and then up a winding stair into the next level of the house. A turn to the end of one side of the hallway and there was a great double door, walnut in color and beautifully carved and offset. He released her, turned the brass handle and stepped back to allow her to enter the chamber first.
The antechamber made her catch her breath with its dark blue hues on the walls and in the fabric that covered a lovely sitting room set. There was a large window along the back wall and she crossed to it, her hands shaking as she looked down on the most beautiful garden she’d ever seen in the city.
“Oh, it’s lovely,” she whispered.
He moved toward her. She felt it rather than dared to look. “It truly is. I love my… our country estate but I’m so pleased that we have such a large garden here so I don’t always feel walled into the city. It’s worth the little drive back into Town proper.”
She nodded. “It is, I can tell already.”
“Would you like to see your chamber?” he asked.
She turned to face him and couldn’t help but think of the night he’d come to her bedroom in her parents’ home. Now they’d be alone in a bedroom again, but this time they were married. It felt a little fraught with tension, that idea.
“Clarissa?”
She blinked and then forced herself to nod. “Y-Yes,” she whispered.
He moved toward one of the doors on either side of the antechamber and opened it. Again, he let her go first and when she did, she clutched her hands to her chest. While the antechamber was done in dark blues, rich hues of midnight, the countess’s chamber was done in pale versions of the same colors. The wallpaper was warm gold tones and cerulean depths in a shell pattern, the bed had a darker version of the same blue in its fine coverlet and curtain hangings. A soft rug that covered most of the wood floor was spun in a beautiful repeating butterfly pattern with dark, medium and light blue mixed with pale yellow and dark pink.
“Oh, it’s…”
“Blue,” Roderick said with a laugh. “It’s very blue. I never changed it—my mother was very fond of the color. You may, of course, alter it however you see fit so that it suits you. Something to discuss with Stevenson tomorrow or in the weeks to come, if you’d like.”
She turned toward him and shook her head. “It’s very kind of you, but I think it’s beautiful. Your mother had impeccable taste.”
There was a brief sadness that filled his eyes. “She did, yes.”
She found herself moving toward him, a desire to comfort him filling her. She wanted to know more about the woman who had raised him. About her loving marriage and his loss. She blinked and pushed that aside.
“Er,” she murmured and rubbed her hands together. “I’m not sure what to do now.”
“We don’t have long,” he said and shifted his weight. Then he smiled. “I’ll be honest with you, Clarissa, I’m also at a loss.”
“You are? And you admit it?”
He laughed. “Well, neither of us has ever been married before, have we? I don’t think either of us has any better notion than the other. We have a little time before we join the party for the gathering. I can hear them all starting to arrive.”
She was quiet for a moment and in the distance she did hear the sound of faint voices, of doors closing and opening.
“I could show you my room,” he said. “Or if you’d like a moment alone, there’s plenty of time for that later.”
His gaze flitted over her when he said that and her legs went a little weak. His bedroom. Would that be where they consummated this sudden union? Or would it be here in this pretty bed? If she followed him, would he try to get that over with now? He kept looking at her and when he’d kissed her in the carriage he’d seemed to desire her.
“Perhaps a moment wouldn’t be the worst thing.”
He inclined his head and she could sense no disappointment in his behavior. “I’ll come back for you in a few moments, then.” He backed from her chamber and closed the door behind himself.
She sucked in a shaky breath and moved to the dressing room on the other side of the chamber. Her maid had been coming and going for a day or so and her gowns and other things were already arranged in the room. There was a pretty dressing table with her brushes and combs laid out. That made the place feel like home, at least.
She returned to the bedroom and walked to the bed. She touched the coverlet and found it to be soft as silk. Her fist bunched against it and she shut her eyes.
She was the Countess of Kirkwood. Roderick’s wife. That was forever. And somehow she had to come to grips with that fact before the party so she could behave correctly. Come to grips with it before they returned to this chamber later tonight and the full union of their lives was made.
She just wasn’t certain how.
R oderick hadn’t wanted this marriage, and yet when Clarissa shakily asked for a few moments alone, he’d been a little disappointed. Oh, he understood. Like him, she had to be overwhelmed by the turn of events of the last few weeks. But still, when she stood in her new bedchamber, looking at him with those wide, beautiful eyes, he had wanted to touch her. Not take her, perhaps, but kiss her again, certainly. Lie down beside her and let his hands begin an exploration that they could finish at their leisure later.
But he couldn’t push. For both their sakes. And so now he stood in his own bedchamber, staring out the window as their guests milled about the garden with its changing autumn colors. He glanced at the clock on his mantel and sighed.
He crossed back over to her door and hesitated before he garnered the courage to knock. “Come in,” she said softly.
He opened the door and found she was just coming down off the bed, as if she’d lain down for a moment on it to gather herself. There was something so intimate about seeing her like that. Not sexual, though he supposed there was that about seeing his new bride slithering off the high edge of the bed, but intimate on a deeper level.
“It’s time,” he said.
She moved to the mirror mounted above the fireplace and checked herself, smoothing her gown and her hair before she turned toward him. “Am I presentable as Lady Kirkwood?”
“You would be in sackcloth,” he assured her as he offered her his arm.
She blushed and he reveled in that as he took her from the room and back downstairs to the ballroom at the back of the house. This wasn’t a ball, but it was a big enough chamber to hold a great number of friends and gawkers who would bless this union while eating his food and drinking his spirits. All the doors along the back of the huge room were thrown open, allowing guests to pass in and out of the room onto the terrace behind the house.
She drew in a harsh breath as they entered. “Oh, it’s lovely,” she whispered. “The ceiling, Roderick.”
He glanced up. He’d always lived in this house and her joy at discovering it made him truly look at it. The ceiling was a delight with its decorative plaster flowers and duel pale purple and light blue paint. There were a few Greek-style reliefs on the ceiling, as well, with sprites pouring water from urns and gentlemen in togas eating grapes from trays.
“Lord and Lady Kirkwood,” his butler announced to the gathered crowd.
Clarissa jumped at that declaration and looked at him briefly as the guests began to applaud and bow to them. He watched her uncertainty fade then, replaced by all the ways she had been trained in propriety over the years. Things he’d scoffed at, but immediately he began to see their value.
For the next few hours, he couldn’t take his eyes from her. Once they parted ways, she moved from group to group with an unpracticed ease, talking to friends and family without hesitation. She truly engaged with those around her, listening intently when they spoke, leaving them smiling when she departed them.
She was kind to his servants, as well, but still held to her position as their mistress. She addressed small problems and kept ahead of anything that could become one. Her role seemed to settle on her shoulders without trouble.
He could feel her reading the room when she was alone for a moment, seeking out anyone who was shuttled off against the wall or looking uncomfortable. She always brought those people in, helping them find the perfect company to join with. It was truly a revelation to observe and drew his attention away from those he spoke to more than once.
She turned toward him and for a moment her gaze rolled over him from head to toe. She swallowed hard and he found himself doing the same. He shifted with the desire that filled him, stronger now that he’d been watching her, seeing her in this new light. His wife. Someone whose partnership would make him all the stronger. He hoped he could do the same for her.
“Ah, look at the besotted groom.”
Roderick shook his head and turned toward his in-laws as Mr. and Mrs. Lockhart approached him. He’d only spoken to them briefly during the gathering thus far and had managed to avoid them otherwise. But now they stood grinning like ghouls.
“It seems we made a very good match for you both after all,” Mrs. Lockhart said.
Roderick set his jaw and thought of what Clarissa had said earlier about her parents fearing he would change his mind if he spent time with her. It had clearly hurt her and it was patently untrue. This little time together today had given him a bit more acceptance of the circumstances.
“Anyone who matched with your daughter would have been the luckiest of men,” Roderick said, lifting his chin and leaning into the protectiveness that filled every pore of his body.
“Very good,” Mr. Lockhart said, and barely glanced in his daughter’s direction. “It doesn’t matter anyway, you cannot give her back now, even if you wished to do so.”
Mrs. Lockhart laughed like that was a good joke.
“I do not wish to do so, sir,” Roderick said quietly. “I vowed to take care of her and I shall. From anyone who ever threatens her peace, physical or otherwise.”
“And her family, one hopes, eh?” Lockhart kept smiling, but there was a mercenary light to his gaze.
Roderick arched a brow. “The provisions we agreed to will be fulfilled. Is this truly what you wish to talk about on your daughter’s wedding day? You do not wish to celebrate her? Or discuss your hopes for her happiness?”
Mrs. Lockhart blinked like he’d spoken another language, but then nodded. “Of course, of course. I’m sure you will make her very happy. Look at this house! How could anyone be anything but happy here?”
Roderick shook his head. He knew full well a person could be here and be very unhappy. Grief or broken heartedness didn’t spare someone based on the fineness of their walls. But he was beginning to see, more plainly than ever, that his wife’s parents had only ever truly cared about their own comfort first.
Something that made his stomach turn.
“It seems the party is beginning to break up,” he said, and motioned toward the guests who were milling around the ballroom exit. “I must collect Clarissa for our goodbyes.”
He inclined his head and moved toward her, watching her catch a little breath as he reached her and smiled. “Will you join me in the first farewells? ”
She nodded and slid her hand through his arm. Her fingers squeezed his bicep and a thrill of sensation followed in their wake. Soon enough she would touch him and there would be no barriers between them. An intoxicating thought that made him want to clear the room with as much haste as possible.
Still, he managed to rein himself in and continue the task of host. There was plenty of time for everything else soon enough. And he was very much looking forward to it.