Claiming His Bride Page 3

  “I’m sure it isn’t.” She licked her lips, looking down and turning away slightly. “It’s funny. Perhaps my family should be grateful Isabella made her … mistake. Otherwise, there would have been no wedding, no loan from your father.”

  He tipped her chin up. “I’m glad my father helped your family, but please don’t dwell on it. I like you very much, Victoria, as I’m sure I proved last night.” He stroked her cheek with one finger. “I think marriage is a sacred thing. As I said before, I would not have been there standing at the altar if I had no intention of making this a true marriage.”

  She leaned forward and brushed her lips against his, and he welcomed the contact hungrily. It was the first time she had initiated intimate contact, and it made his heart swell. When they parted, he took the chance and asked, “Who’s William?”

  She blinked. “William? What’s his surname? I don’t think I know a William.”

  He blinked right back at her. He’d steeled himself for whatever story she would have to tell, but he had not been prepared for this. She didn’t know the man sending her intimate notes? That couldn’t be true, but her expression showed genuine confusion and innocence. “You don’t?”

  She furrowed her brow. “We had a cook named Liam, but he left us three months ago to go back to Ireland to take care of family matters after his father’s death. His full name may have been William, but I don’t know. I could ask father. Is it important?”

  She was obviously confused by the timing of his question. He didn’t know what to say to her. How could he explain the question without exposing what he had done? But, it could not be a mix up. The flowers and the gift had come to her exact location twice, both times very shortly after her arrival.

  What was going on? Either someone had made a grand mistake or his wife was a consummate actress. He hoped it was not the latter, as that would ensure him nothing but heartache for years to come.

  He stroked her cheek. “When I’m this close to you, very little is important.” Kissing her quickly, he smiled, trying to dispel the awkwardness he’d caused. “Come down with me. We can have a sherry before dinner.”

  ****

  Victoria sat brushing her hair, still puzzling over her husband’s behavior that day. She’d continued to search her brain for the name William. His question had completely befuddled her, especially as his kiss had already made intelligent thought a challenge to begin with. Dinner had passed pleasantly. He’d seemed more cheerful, yet he’d still been noticeably distracted. If she recalled correctly, he was nearly thirty, almost ten years her senior, so he probably had been quite settled in his ways and unused to having someone attached to his hip at all times.

  She set her brush down and looked at her nightgown. It had been meant for her wedding night, but Bastian hadn’t given her the chance to put it on. She hoped he would like it, though at the same time she didn’t think she would mind if he only gave it the briefest of glances as he took it off of her. Having been prepared for a painful wedding night with a serious, passionless man, her actual wedding night have been like a fairy tale almost. If only her husband would stop confusing her, a happy ending might not be out of the question. One thing was certain: if last night were anything to go on, the Earl would soon have those grandchildren he desired so much.

  There was a knock on the door of the dressing room, which adjoined the bathroom and the bedroom. “Come in.”

  Bastian entered, smiling at her but then turning his attention to the room. “Hmmm. A bit drab, but I hardly use it at all before.” He looked at the vanity as he put his hands in the pockets of his dressing gown. “That’s nice though. I believe my mother picked it out several years ago.”

  She stood and went to him. “It’s lovely. We came here so abruptly I was amazed to find everything in such good order.”

  “I was in residence before going to Italy and returned briefly when I came back, so it hasn’t been shut up for long.” He finally took notice of her gown, and his eyes darkened enough to make her blush. His voice was much lower when he whispered, “You look lovely, Victoria, which makes me even more impatient for you to come to bed.”

  She was glad to see that, at least in this, he would be consistent. She tried to think of something clever and flirtatious to say, but he swept her off her feet before she could come up with anything. She put her arms around his neck.

  “So I’m to be accosted in this manner every evening, it seems.”

  “Oh yes.”

  His lips met hers as he lowered her to the bed, covering her body with his. She felt his fingers unlacing the gown, and she moaned when he parted the material and caressed her breasts. He ended the kiss and brought his mouth to her breast. “I love making you moan and sigh.” His tongue circled the nipple before his lips closed around it.

  She put her hand on the back of his head, which must have pleased him because he suckled harder. Her sex was already wet and ready for him. Earlier that day he’d said he wanted to overwhelm her, occupy her every thought, and fully possess her. If she’d had the nerve, she would have told him he’d already achieved his goal. She hadn’t stopped thinking of him for even one moment the entire day, and she couldn’t wait to be one with him again, for his body to possess hers.

  He hitched her gown up and spread her legs with his knees. His fingers caressed her quim. When two slid inside her, she gasped.

  “You like that?” he asked as he kissed his way up to her neck and nuzzled her there.

  “Yes.”

  “It makes you happy?”

  “Yes.”

  He gazed down into her eyes, his fingers never ceasing their invasion. The sweet, gentle massage made it hard for her to focus. “Always tell me what makes you happy. Tell me exactly what you want.”

  His fingers moved deeper, and she found it hard to breathe evenly, especially with his eyes blazing at her and his lips hovering above hers.

  “More,” she whispered, lifting her lips to his.

  He kissed her back, pulling his hand away to take his dressing gown off. She missed his touch, but then his naked flesh was against hers. He pushed her gown higher, and she felt his shaft pressing against her core.

  “Is this what you meant?” he asked against her lips.

  “Yes.” She wasn’t sure how she even managed the word.

  “You’ll likely be sore. I’ll be gentle.”

  She caressed his cheek, touched that he was thinking of her when his own need seemed so great. “I know you will be. Bastian, please.”

  He moaned, the sound a deep, sensual rumble in his chest. He lifted her hips slightly and began to enter her. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me, pleading like that.”

  She pressed her cheek against his shoulder, her lips brushing his neck as he stroked into her. Though uncomfortable at first, she soon became accustomed to his length moving in and out. She angled her hips up, and then the pleasure began to build. His strokes intensified as she clung to him.

  He pulled away and made her look at him. He’d been searching and studying her face all day, but right now she felt no one had ever seen her so clearly. “I love this, how perfectly we come together.”

  She nodded, feeling the deep sensuality of his movements. As his lips captured hers again and his pace quickened, she exploded. She felt dizzy, and lights danced behind her eyelids, but it exhilarated her. The pleasure proved even more powerful than what she’d experienced the night before.

  “Mine,” he said, his mouth everywhere at once, as if he didn’t want an inch of her face or neck untouched. “Tell me you’re mine, Victoria.”

  “I’m yours,” she said, her voice small and trembling.

  He pounded her into the bed, making her gasp in surprise and pleasure. Holding her head, he said, “Look at me.”

  She forced her eyes to open, and his gaze bore into her as he continued to thrust. They shook together as he found his own release inside her. She dug her nails into the muscles of his back, needing his strength to anchor her.<
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  He placed an amazingly soft kiss on her forehead. “You’re stealing my heart, my dear.”

  She lowered her eyes, unsure what to say. But then he rolled off of her and pulled her against his chest. He didn’t seem to want her to say anything as he caressed her hair, but she wanted to give him some reassurance that he was giving her more than pleasure.

  “Tomorrow, we’ll go out to the lake. It’s beautiful. I think you’ll like it there,” he said.

  She ran her hand over his chest. “I’m sure I will.” She tightened her grip on him and looked up at his face. “I feel very welcome and at home.”

  He shifted and pulled her beneath him. “Good. This is your home now. Your word has as much power as mine. Ask for anything you like. I want you to be happier here than you’ve ever been in your life.”

  She started to protest and express her gratitude, but he didn’t give her a chance. His mouth captured hers again, and she couldn’t think in complete sentences again for a very long time.

  Chapter Four

  Bastian stared at the bouquet of pink roses. A new arrangement had arrived every week for the past month. Victoria believed they were from him and adored them. Agatha, the downstairs maid, had been helping him with the deliveries. At first, she’d seemed to pity him, but today she had asked permission to be honest and had said something very encouraging.

  Your lady seems so content and happy I doubt this man means anything to her anymore. She must have spurned him. Maybe you should leave the card and let her handle him. If she needs you to act, she’ll ask. Of course, Agatha didn’t know he’d asked Victoria who William was and been told she didn’t know a William. Nevertheless, he was pleased someone besides him thought Victoria was happy.

  He took the roses up to her, anxious to see the happy expression on her face. Since it and her gratitude were directed toward him, her joy didn’t bother him. In fact, enjoying the rewards of this misguided man’s effort gave him a strange sort of pleasure.

  Though he hadn’t yet made a declaration, he knew he did love her. He simply hadn’t devised a plan for telling her yet. He wanted it to be perfect, since he had never had a chance to court her until after they were already married. Also, he could admit he was nervous about telling her. Happy as she might be, she still might not feel the way he did. He didn’t want her to pretend to love him because she felt guilt or gratitude. He wanted to truly inspire that emotion in her.

  He knocked and entered their bedroom, finding her sitting at the desk by the window. She looked confused and concerned. He set the flowers down and went to her side.

  “Is everything all right?” he asked.

  Her eyes focused on a letter in her hand. “This was bought up this morning. Bastian, why did you ask about a man named William?”

  His heart gave a thud. “I had my reasons. Why?”

  She stared at the letter a moment longer, and then held it up to him. “This letter is addressed to Lady Aslet, but I do not know this person. His name is William. There is no return address, and I do not recognize the handwriting.”

  He took the letter from her.

  I am making arrangements. It has been far too long. I am sorry I was not there to stop the wedding, but all will be well soon. I will be able to take care of you now. Think of me. I think of you every moment. I have a strategy for meeting with you, and we can make our plans then. Your William.

  The brief letter angered him, but before speaking he examined her face. Her confusion was not feigned. She would have hidden this letter immediately if she really had a lover who still wanted her.

  “Victoria, have you ever turned a man down? Refused a dance? An invitation to take a turn in a garden? An offer to escort you somewhere? Anything? Has anyone ever behaved inappropriately? Did your father ever tell you not to speak with any certain man, or forbidden anyone to address you?”

  She thought for a moment and then shook her head. “I’ve always been gracious. I don’t believe anyone has ever been this interested in me. Certainly no one ever expressed anything like this. His tone and words imply a relationship that does not exist.” She bit her lower lip. “Bastian, you asked about this man weeks ago. I don’t understand.”

  He couldn’t lie to her now; he’d already made that mistake. But what choice had he had?

  “Victoria, you’re going to be angry with me. I’ve lied to you.”

  Her eyes flicked to the letter in his hand. “Lied to me? About what?”

  “The pink roses—all of them—have come from this man. And the ribbons as well. I destroyed the cards because I thought he was a former lover. I was jealous.”

  She paled. “You thought I was lying to you, so you lied to me?”

  He went down on one knee in front of her. “I was jealous, as I said. I didn’t want to believe my wife might still be in love with another.”

  “Hiding this from me would not have changed how I felt, Bastian.”

  “I know. Please forgive me. What man would be pleased by another man sending his wife flowers?”

  She took the letter from him. “But you gave the flowers to me. You simply got rid of the cards.” She tossed the letter on the desk. “Bastian, this man knows where we live. Your jealousy has put me in danger all this time.”

  “Danger?”

  She looked up, anger sparking in her eyes. “I don’t know a William. This man could be dangerous, as he obviously thinks something is going on between us. I cannot think of a single suspect. It must be a stranger who has seen me socially.”

  “What about the cook? Could it be him?”

  She shook her head. “He’s in Ireland. His father died, and he had to go home to take care of his family. Besides, we talked often. I would have known if he’d had any interest in me.”

  “I see.”

  Tears formed in her eyes, and he watched her struggling to hold them back.

  “Victoria, don’t be frightened. I won’t leave your side until we get to the bottom of this.”

  She turned accusing eyes to him. “Bastian, while it worries me, I am not crying because I am afraid. I’m hurt. For a month, you lied to me. You didn’t trust me. How can I trust a man who deceived me so easily?”

  “Victoria, I am sorry.” He reached for her hand. “I know it may take time for you to forgive me.”

  She moved out of his reach and stood up. “Why should I believe your apology? Now, I suppose, your odd behavior after our wedding makes sense, but … I can’t excuse your behavior. Jealousy is no justification here. How can I believe any of the promises you’ve made? You were able to smile and act normal knowing about this man and thinking there had been something between us, that there might still be something between us. You said this would not be a marriage in name only, but that is what it has been.”

  “How can you say that? I have not been a false, smiling fool petting you on the head and ignoring you. I have not played the doting husband in public and then gone to the bed of a mistress. I made a mistake, and I am sorry it has hurt you, but I will not let you dismiss what has happened between us.”

  “And what has happened? You’ve been bedding a woman you thought was deceiving you.”

  He grabbed her by the elbows and held her against him. “I have been making love to a woman whose heart I desire to win. I have spent my days thinking of her and my nights giving her pleasure. I care for her more with each passing moment. It hurt that she might have already given her heart away, even if she had dutifully forsaken that man, but I was determined not to stop trying.” He kissed her, hoping to melt her anger and make her see that his passion was not merely for her body.

  But she struggled against him, pushing his chest and turning her head. “Stop it! You’ve been manipulating me like this ever since the wedding.” She turned away from him, tears truly flowing now. “I suppose it’s quite a boost to your ego, how easily you can subdue me with your touch.”

  The words flung at him cut deep. Hurt alone couldn’t make her feel this way—he truly had made no
progress in winning her heart. “I’ll leave you now, Victoria.” He took two steps toward her, but he resisted the urge to make her face him. “Once you’ve calmed down, I hope you’ll see that you’re the one subduing me when we touch. You know very well what you do to me. You simply lived in your sister’s shadow too long to believe you could inspire a man to love and cherish you as much as I do.”

  He turned and stalked from the room, slamming the door behind him in anger. His reticence and careful planning now meant nothing. Perhaps his declaration would mean nothing as well. He honestly didn’t trust himself around her now. He knew he would either end up yelling and frightening her or humiliating himself by begging. More than anything, he suspected that exchanging heated words would only lead him to throwing her to the bed and showing her the passion she inspired within him.

  He ordered his carriage, not giving a damn what Victoria or the servants would think.

  ****

  Victoria sat in bed, staring at the clock on the mantle. It was nearly one in the morning. Bastian had returned just before eleven. When would he come to bed? Part of her didn’t want to sleep beside him tonight, but the rest of her wanted to make him see that her feelings mattered just as much as his did.

  He’d left both hurt and angry, so she could understand him not wanting to come up. She lit a candle and got out of bed, putting her dressing gown on. She decided to check his study first. Initially, she’d thought she had guessed wrong, but then she saw his coat on his desk. She came into the room and found him stretched out on the couch in front of his desk. Just as she stopped to gaze down at him, his eyes snapped open.

  She took a step back, and he sat bolt upright. “What’s wrong, Victoria?”