Chapter Twenty
Unsettled, Aubrey slipped into his darkened bedroom and closed the door behind him, leaning against it for a time to take several deep sips of whiskey. Closing his eyes, he felt the liquor move through him, heating him from within.
“Aubrey?”
That voice. That one in a million voice. “I’m here, love.”
“Is everything all right?”
No, he wanted to say, it’s not. My mother is a monster and she’s going to try to destroy us. “Justin received some terrible news from home.” He pushed off the door and went to the bed, sitting on the edge of the mattress.
“What happened?”
“His father and brother were killed in a riding accident.”
“Oh no. Poor Justin.”
“In addition to his obvious grief and heartache, this also means he is the new earl. He’s rather overwhelmed by that prospect, to say the least.”
“I’m so sorry for him.”
“I am as well. He’s such a good fellow. I hate to see him suffering.”
“Will he leave to go home?”
“In the morning.”
“One never knows what’s coming next.”
“That is very true. Often the not knowing can lead to beautiful things.” To make his point, he reached for her hand and linked their fingers. “But not always.”
“No, not always. I’m sorry your friend is sad.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry, too.”
“Do you want to come to bed?”
“Very much so.”
She surprised him when she sat up, pushed the covers aside and went up on her knees to unbutton his shirt.
He was extraordinarily moved by her tender care and the way she touched him as she helped him out of his shirt.
“Lie back.”
Aubrey put the glass on the table and did as directed, on fire with desire to know what she would do next.
He wasn’t disappointed when she released his belt and unbuttoned his pants.
At her command, he raised his hips and allowed her to remove his trousers and unmentionables, leaving him bare to her curious gaze.
“You’re so finely put together, Mr. Nelson.”
He loved how she called him that now for effect, rather than out of formality. “I’m glad you think so, Mrs. Nelson.”
“Everyone thinks so. I heard Abigail Gish discussing your fine physique during the Coddingtons’ croquet party. She said you have a very tight derriere and wondered, aloud, if it looked as good unclothed as it does in trousers. I assured her it does.”
Aubrey’s face heated with mortification. “You did not!”
“I certainly did so. I won’t have her discussing my husband’s derriere as if I’m not standing right there.”
His heart seemed to expand in his chest as he reached for her, wrapping his arms around her and burying his fingers in the thick silk of her hair. “You have made me happier than I have ever been.”
“I have?”
“You have. You mustn’t ever leave me. I would be entirely bereft without you.”
“I . . . You . . .”
“Love you. I, Aubrey Nelson, have fallen deeply in love with my beautiful wife, Maeve Nelson, and I can’t imagine a day—hell, I can hardly bear an hour—without her by my side.”
Her eyes filled with tears as she stared at him, seeming stunned by his proclamation.
A nagging worry about whether he’d shown his cards too soon had him kissing her rather than waiting—hoping—to hear the same sentiment from her.
What if she didn’t feel the same way? He would die if she didn’t love him.
It was that simple. Judging by the way she kissed him, she had to love him. She just had to.
Tightening his hold on her, he turned them so he was on top, breaking the kiss to gaze down at her sweet face and eyes that seemed to see through to the very heart of him. As he made love to her, she gave him her body, but he wanted her heart and soul, too. Anything less wouldn’t be enough.
In the morning, Maeve got dressed early to go downstairs with Aubrey to see Justin off. He looked dreadful. His eyes were rimmed with red, and his face bore the signs of a sleepless night. Her heart went out to him as she gave him a good-bye hug. “You’ll be in our prayers.”
“Thank you, Maeve. I’m glad I got to meet the woman who has made Aubrey so happy.”
“I’m glad I got to meet you, too.” She stepped back so the others could say their good-byes.
When she thought about the words her husband had said to her in the dark of night, her heart beat faster and her mind raced with the implications.
He loved her. He couldn’t bear to be parted from her for even an hour.
What had begun as a way to protect her had become something so much more than she ever could have imagined.
Despite his words of love and devotion, she remained unconvinced that those who truly mattered, including his own mother, would ever accept her as his wife.
Having Catherine and Madeleine by her side at every social event this summer had made it impossible for anyone to be outwardly rude to her, for they feared offending her powerful friends far more than they disliked having her in their midst.
What would happen next summer when Catherine and Madeleine weren’t there to smooth the way for her?
Maeve shuddered imagining facing the social demands without her friends by her side.
From every morning ride to every noon dip at Bailey’s Beach where everyone complained about the rocks and the smell of the seaweed, to the picnics, luncheons, afternoon teas, visits to the Casino, dinner parties and formal balls, she had managed to survive only because of them.
The McCabe sisters had been formidable allies, making sure one of them was always with her, even if that meant missing out on a chance to dance with their husbands. They never left her alone.
Maeve had never in her life had friends quite like them and would be forever grateful for the way they had protected her this summer.
She dreaded the day they parted company and she was left to face the mercies of a merciless group of people on her own.
Aubrey would be there, of course, but so often the men and women were separated at events.
Her stomach turned at the thought of being left alone with those people.
She flattened a hand over her queasy abdomen.
With every morning beginning that way lately and no sign of her courses, she’d begun to think she might be with child.
Aubrey had long since stopped being careful about spending inside her, so it was entirely possible.
She only wished she could allow herself to be excited about the positive things in her life—the love of a truly good man and now, the possibility of his child.
But underneath it all was the certainty that nothing this wonderful could possibly last.
As they waved to Justin when his carriage departed, Aubrey slipped his arm around her waist. She leaned into his comforting presence, wanting to steal every moment she could get with him while she still could.
They turned to go back inside and came face to face with Eliza, who trained her cold, unyielding stare on Maeve.
Did Aubrey see the way his mother looked at her? If he did, he didn’t speak of it, but the enmity coming from her mother-in-law made Maeve’s blood run cold.
“Good morning, Mother,” Aubrey said.
“Good morning,” Eliza replied. “He is off then?”
“He is. I was able to book him passage from New York to England tomorrow.”
“It’s a pity he had to leave. It would’ve been nice to have a duke and an earl in residence, especially for the Russells’ ball tonight.”
The tightening of Aubrey’s hold on Maeve’s waist was the only indication of his displeasure with his mother’s comment. To his credit, he said nothing in response to her. After all, what could be said?
“Come, my dear,” he said to Maeve. “Let’s have breakfast.”
They joined Derek, Catherine, Simon and Madeleine at breakfast and then spent time on the back veranda with Aubrey’s nieces and nephews as well as Derek and Catherine’s baby daughter, Grace, choosing to skip the morning drive and the other customary social obligations that day so they could spend the time needed to prepare for the ball that evening.
“I read in the morning paper that Dr. Ernst Pfenning of Chicago has become the first owner of a Ford Model A,” Aubrey said. “People are speculating that before long, everyone with the means will have one.”
“Won’t that be something?” Derek asked.
“I imagine it’ll be chaotic with everyone running into each other,” Aubrey said.
The others laughed.
“Until the government intervenes to figure out a way for people to get about without catastrophe,” Simon said.
Maeve listened with interest to the conversation, but for some reason, the thought of the evening’s ball had her on edge all day. While Aubrey went to visit his father, Maeve retired to her bedroom for some much-needed time alone before facing the crush of society that night.
She didn’t expect to sleep but woke some time later to her husband’s lips on her neck. His obsession with her neck continued unabated. Keeping her eyes closed, Maeve smiled. “I hope you’re my husband.”
“Who else would be kissing your neck?” He kissed his way from her throat to her ear, sending goose bumps skittering down her back. “Whoever he is, I’ll run him through with the sharpest sword I can find.”
“Is it time to get ready?” she asked with a sinking feeling of dread.
“Not quite yet, but I have good news I couldn’t wait to share with you.”
Intrigued, Maeve opened her eyes and looked up to find him smiling widely. “What news?”
“Derek received a cable from his contact at Scotland Yard. At his request, the Scotland Yard inspector reached out to the authorities in Ireland to make them aware of Farthington’s assault on the London prostitute.
In addition, he informed them of your side of the story, including Farthington’s inability to perform sexually and his ensuing outrage each time he failed in that regard.
That, along with my assertion about the burn to your hand that you were still nursing when we met and Derek’s character reference has led them to drop all charges against you. ”