So this was what it felt like to be a wife, to be loved! She relived again, moment by moment, the whole of their lovemaking. Why had she always thought of physical contact as something repulsive? Last night had been wonderful. It had not been a case of the male taking and using her and making her feel like a weak woman with no worth beyond her sexual function. He had made her feel a partner in what had happened. She knew, inexperienced as she was, that he had taken the time to give pleasure to her as well as himself. And she knew that she had given him pleasure. There was that moment when he had murmured his release against her face.
If only he had not gone away so early… Henry would have liked to do again right then what they had done the night before. She felt a throbbing low in her womb at the very thought. Then she blushed with shame at her own desire. Maybe married people just did not do it that often!
But she was happy! She bounced off the bed, grasped the hangings of her bed in her arms, and pirouetted several times until she became so entangled in the heavy velvet that she had to stop and carefully unwind herself, giggling self-consciously though there was no one there to watch. She rang for Betty.
"I want the blue muslin dress today," she told her maid, and hummed tunelessly to herself as she washed, dressed, and had her hair brushed. "Is his Grace still at home?" she asked.
"I believe so-, your Grace," Betty 'replied. "He was coming through the door as I was coming upstairs."
"Good," said Henry, smiling into the mirror.
She dismissed Betty before going down to the breakfast room. She had some thinking to do. Now everything was changed between her and Marius. They were in love; they were truly man and wife; they could now speak openly and freely to each other. She would go down to breakfast and he would rise from his place and hold out his arms to her. He would kiss her and laugh when she glanced uneasily at the butler, who would probably be there too. They would talk about last night and tell each other how much in love they were. And then she would tell him all about Oliver Cranshawe and her awkward debt to him. She would not mention Giles, of course. She would tell him that she had gambled unwisely at some party and that her debt had embarrassed her. But-yes-she would tell him. He would understand and forgive her in the afterhaze of last night's passion. And then she would be free of Oliver and would be ready to begin living happily ever after.
Henry took a last peek into the mirror, adjusted a few curls around her face, and tripped lightly down the stairs to the breakfast room. Alas, it had two occupants. Mr. Ridley was sitting at the table with Marius. Henry found herself suddenly shy as both men rose from their places and Marius moved around the table to hold her chair for her. She smiled vaguely in the direction of his chin and beamed at Mr. Ridley.
"Good morning, my love," Eversleigh said in his usual tone of bored irony. "You are remarkably early this morning."
"I plan to go riding after breakfast, while the air is still cool," she replied.
"Ah," was his only comment. And to Henry's chagrin, lie turned his attention to Ridley and talked about some speech that he was apparently to give within the next few days. Obviously her entrance had interrupted this business.
"I suppose I must come and examine the morning mail," he said at last. "Is there anything important, James?"
"Some bills and some invitations, your Grace," Ridley replied.
"Ah, but I asked if there was anything important, James, his employer repeated, fixing him with a sleepy stare.
"A letter from Kent and one from your Norfolk estate, your Grace." Ridley said in his long-suffering voice.
"Then I must come," said Eversleigh with a sigh. "Will you excuse us, Henry?"
"Of course," she replied bleakly.
"And would you give me the pleasure of your company in the library before you ride, my love? Say in half an hour?" he asked.
"Yes, Marius," she said, spirits soaring again. After the two men had left, she sat sipping her coffee, living again in her imagination the scene that would soon take place. Only the setting was different-it would be the library rather than the breakfast room. But all the better! The library was more private.
Henry found herself blushing as she tapped on the library door half an hour later and let herself inside. She closed the door and leaned against it. Her eyes shone and her lips were parted eagerly as she looked across at her husband. Disconcertingly, he was sitting formally at his desk, apparently engrossed in the papers that were spread out before him.
"Come and sit down, Henry," he said without looking lip.
Henry felt a twinge of unease. His voice was not the voice of last night's lover. She crossed the room' and sat uncomfortably on the edge of the chair that was across the desk from him.
Eversleigh carefully put down the quill pen he was using, pushed together the pile of papers in front of him, and finally looked up at his wife. His eyes were hooded behind half-closed lids.
"I owe you an apology," he said stiffly.
Henry was too shocked to reply. But her hands were suddenly cold. She clasped them together in her lap.
"I made you a promise on our wedding night," Eversleigh continued, "and I broke that promise quite shamefully last night. I had been worried about your safety and wished to punish you, I suppose. I regret the lapse, ma'am, and assure you that it will not happen again."
"But Marius, I didn't… " she began.
He held up an imperious hand to silence her. "I told you that you would be expected to perform the duties of a wife as soon as we retire to Kent for the summer," Eversleigh continued. "I find, on reflection, that it is distasteful to force my attentions on an unwilling partner. I wish you to know, Henry, that you may retain my name and my protection for as long as you wish, but you owe me nothing in return. Until you say the word, I shall not touch you again."
"Oh," said Henry, leaping to her feet and putting her hands on her hips, "so I do not measure up to the standard set by Mrs. Broughton, do F'
Eversleigh's body became completely motionless; his eyes became icy. "Would you care to explain that remark, Henry?" lie asked softly.
"You thought I did not know, did you not?" she said, eyes flashing. "You thought me naive. I am not a child, Marius. I know she is your mistress and has been for a long time. I have seen you with her on several occasions. She is very feminine, with that tiny waist and large bosom."
"Who has told you all this, Henry?" he asked, still in the maddeningly calm and soft voice. "Cranshawe?"
"Oh, I do not need hire to point out the obvious to me," Henry said. "I know that, with my figure, I cannot compete." She held her arms out and looked down on her own slim body. "You must have found me very disappointing last night."
"Must I, my love?" he asked, the old gleam showing in his eyes for a moment.
"Yes. And do you know what?" she asked. rhetorically. "I am glad! You know I hate to be touched. When you kiss me, I feel like rushing to the nearest washbasin and plunging in my face. And what you did to me last night was quite repulsive. I think I should run away if I felt that I would have to be subjected to that at your pleasure. Keep your Mrs. Broughton. Perhaps she will help keep your lecherous hands off me!"
Eversleigh put his palms on the desk and rose to his feet, keeping his eyes on her. He came around the desk. For one moment Henry thought he was coming to her and she did not know whether she would spit in his face or ignominiously grab his lapels and soak his neckcloth with her tears. But he walked across the room to pour himself a brandy. He stood silently, with his back to her, while he drank it.