Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

T he next morning John woke up feeling fully rested and reinvigorated. He had not slept so well in years. As the sun peeped in through the curtains and he roused, he turned slowly onto his side, and that is when he spotted Olivia.

What is she doing here?

What will she say when she wakes up? Last night, I remember promising her we would do more…talk more later…but what am I to say?

In all his years, John had never spent the night with a woman. Yes, sometimes after taking his pleasure, he fell asleep, but he always awoke again quickly and hurriedly stumbled from the lady's room. Whether that was because he meant to avoid detection or simply because he could not be bothered to linger made little difference now. Olivia was his wife, and he could not very well avoid her.

Or can I?

Even though these thoughts drifted through his mind, John was already certain he knew the answers. She would seek out his companionship as she did before. She would want to sit with him and laugh as they reenacted passages from that book, and above all, she would want him to love her, to cherish her, to make her the center of his world.

And that was the one thing John could not do.

He scrambled to clothe himself, flinging on a clean white shirt but topping it with his well-worn riding habit. He ached to be out of doors, riding through the fields, heading far from this bedchamber, and so he did not hesitate to pull on his breeches and head into the hall before he had the entire ensemble buttoned and ready.

"My lord…"

No sooner had he closed the door to his bedchamber behind himself then John bumped into his valet.

"Yes?"

"Are you…unwell?" The manservant's eyes flicked up and down John's wrinkled, rumpled clothing. "Do you not wish for my assistance this morning?"

"I can manage on my own," John replied. "But I shall need you to fetch my boots and meet me in…"

"Your bedchamber?" He nodded at the door that lay just behind John.

"No!" he said quickly. "I will follow you directly, and we can put on my riding boots before I head to the stables."

"Yes, my lord." John was pleased with his servant's quick acquiescence. He was glad not to have his authority questioned, even when he knew he was behaving erratically. When his valet turned and walked swiftly down the hall, John followed suit, leaving Olivia just as she was…gently snoozing and perfectly undisturbed.

"I was… vulnerable with Olivia last night," John said as he came upon his friend, Frederick, who had apparently also gone out for an early morning ride of his own.

"Yes," Frederick murmured as a sly smile spread across his face. "I heard."

"You…heard?" Panic flooded John's senses as he thought his friend meant he overheard him during his fit of terror following his nightmare. His screams had been enough to summon Olivia from her bed, so it was possible Frederick had heard the terrible cries as well.

Chortling happily, Frederick replied, "I do believe the two of you were so loud, you woke the angels in Heaven and the demons down below." He paused, twisted his head slowly, then gave John a mischievous grin. "Was this the first time Lady Olivia shouted your name in such a manner or…"

"We will not speak of my wife in such crude terms," John retorted, lacing his words with an air of caution.

Frederick's entire countenance altered. His lips puckered, giving him a discerning air. "Then, I must have misunderstood your meaning," he replied. "What do you mean by vulnerable then?"

"I showed her a weakness I had previously kept hidden."

"Ah…" Frederick said knowingly. "Then, you finally told her all about Percy."

Slowly, John turned to look at his friend. "How do you know that?"

Frederick shrugged. "I counseled you on the matter weeks ago. I told you to share your burdens with your wife." He snorted. "It took you long enough to listen to me, but are you not glad you did? After telling her your woes, did she not provide just the sort of comfort that you needed?"

A low, dissatisfied growl built in the back of John's throat. "I told you I do not wish to speak of my wife in such a way."

"I was not speaking of your wife in a derogatory manner, my friend," Frederick replied. "I merely was attempting to point out how I have been right all along. Young ladies we meet at soirees and events can offer us happiness and pleasure for the night. But a wife…well, it is my understanding that she has promised to stand by you always. And when you should need comfort, she has pledged to be the one to give it."

John grumbled incoherently then did better to explain his frustrations. "But last night, I…"

"Yes?"

He could not think of how to describe what had evolved between himself and Olivia. There was so much to say, so many feelings that had accompanied their love making, that he was unable to articulate properly what had really happened.

"I am worried that going forward, she will expect me to be…"

"Doting? Loving?"

"No." John shook his head. "Or rather yes…she will likely expect as much, but that is not what vexes me."

Frederick stared at him. "Go on."

"What concerns me is that last night I showed an unmasculine, frail version of myself. I allowed her to see all of me, and I fear she will expect me to be almost cowardly going forward."

"Ha!" Frederick laughed brightly. "If that is all that plagues you, let us return to the house at once. You can charge directly up to her bedchambers and prove to Lady Frontershire just how very masculine you are."

John snorted. "I already told you this is not about the connection we forged in bed. I do not think I was less than skillful or that she was left in any doubt of my manly nature."

"But you said you worried she would think you cowardly…" Frederick tapped the tip of his forefinger to his chin thoughtfully, then his eyes twinkled. "I have it. You should challenge me to a bit of swordplay."

"No," John scoffed. "You are a terrible swordsman. You lack the finesse to…"

"Lady Frontershire does not know what an ungainly sport I am. She will watch the two of us dueling, and when you spear me, she will think…"

"Spear you?" John interjected as a laugh burst from his lips. "Do you mean touch?"

Frederick waved away the correction dismissively. "You may call it whatever you like, but if you wish to impress your wife, do as you once did before. Exhibit your fine skills with a foil and…"

"But Olivia did not like the swordplay," John inserted, "or at least it did not seem as if she were entertained."

"She cheered loudly enough for Lord Ridgewell when it was his turn to face an opponent."

John growled in annoyance. "Are you trying to help me, Frederick, or make matters worse?"

"I only meant to suggest that…"

"What I am thinking is that my wife and I have entered into this marriage agreement too quickly. I thought I wanted a lady to marry, so I could have a son, and I offered Olivia my hand, so I could…"

"Save her reputation," Frederick supplied helpfully.

"Yes," John whispered before continuing. "But I see now that we have made a mistake. Olivia wants things I simply cannot give her, and the intimacy she desires will be enough to break me."

Frederick snorted. "You make this sound as if what I overheard last night was not real but imagined. Did you not enjoy lying with your wife? Do you not want to be with her even now?"

"Too much of what has happened between me and Olivia has been playacting. We were performing our parts. Reading from a script. But last night, when matters became real between us, I…"

"Yes, I see now," Frederick interrupted. "You wish to establish your authority as the lord of this manor…as the man who controls all he beholds. But last night, you gave her some of your power. You shared yourself with her, and in doing so, you woke up this morning feeling a little less capable than you did before."

John knew his friend was parroting back to him his sentiments, simply reciting and reconfiguring what he thought he was hearing, but as John listened to Frederick's words, he wasn't sure the right message was being conveyed.

"All I mean to say is that going forward, I shall move in one direction, and if my wife would care to divert in another, I shall not stop her."

Frederick jerked on the reins of his horse, pulling the animal to an abrupt halt. Mimicking the motion more slowly, John pulled his creature to a stop as well then turned his mount to face his friend.

"What?" he asked.

Frederick shrugged helplessly. "It is just you have managed to surprise me, that is all. Only a few weeks ago, you expressed a bit of jealousy at seeing her take tea with Lord Ridgewell, but now, you wish that she should do whatever she pleases?"

"I will grant Lady Frontershire the freedom she deserves," replied John. "If she wishes to stay here with me, I will bed her regularly in hopes of producing an heir, but I will not permit our relationship to progress further."

"Why not?" Frederick returned. He huffed in an annoyed fashion. "I imagined when you wed, you would become so enamored with your new bride that I should never see you again. When our paths crossed, I assumed you would regale me with tales of wedded bliss, and I would be so intrigued, I would find myself a bride. But based on what I have seen, and what you said just now, I do not think I will ever be induced to tie myself to another."

"Remain as you are, Newley," John grumbled. "Abhor love. Despise marriage. Take your pleasure where you can find it. Trust me, it is better that way."

Disgruntled, he urged his horse into a trot then pressed the creature to gallop. He left Frederick behind and dared not look back.

After riding for more than an hour, John turned his horse toward home and headed for the stables. When he dismounted then sauntered slowly toward the house, he was not at all surprised to find Olivia waiting for him on the veranda.

"My lord," she enthused while rushing at him and wrapping her arms around his neck. "Oh, I am so glad to see you again." She pulled back, and he could see the way her eyes were lit with joviality. "I know we only parted ways hours ago, but I awoke and found you had left me at some point in the night, and I…" She quickly clamped her lips closed and shook her head. Then, slowly, she opened her mouth and spoke in a much less giddy tone, "Let us just say that I am happy to have found you now because I look forward to renewing the closeness we shared last night."

John wriggled free from her embrace and gave her a tight smile. "About that," he said in a low, stern voice, "I think we should discuss…"

The sound of someone clearing their throat pulled John up short, and he glanced over Olivia's head to see Simmons waiting near the doorway. The butler carried a silver tray in his hand, and even though John could not see exactly what lay there, he guessed the post had been delivered.

"Yes?"

Simmons cleared his throat once more. "The letters have arrived, my lord. My lady."

"And?" John prompted.

"I would not have disturbed you, my lord, but Lady Frontershire bade me inform her if and when a missive should arrive from Viscountess Dewsbury."

"Eee!" Olivia squealed before clapping her hands excitedly. "Finally! Rose has returned my reply."

She scuttled away from him and dashed toward Simmons. Plucking the top letter from the stack, she ripped open the wax seal immediately then skimmed the contents.

"I was so worried," she murmured as she read. "It has been more than a month complete since I last heard from my cousin, and I…Ah…Here is why. She has been busy entertaining house guests…Yes…Yes…And eee!" She let loose another high-pitched squeak.

"Is something the matter, my lady?" John asked as he cautiously approached her.

"Nothing is wrong," Olivia cooed as she lifted her eyes and met his gaze. "It is just that Rose writes now to invite us to visit with her and Benedict. She says it has been too long since we all sat around a table together." She paused and tittered. "She writes that if we both promise to behave ourselves and not cause a scene, she will order her cook to make your favorite pudding and… But what is wrong, my lord? Are you not pleased by this news?"

John knew he was frowning and tried to alter his expression for her sake but failed. "I do not think it is the right time for us to stray too far from our home," he said, speaking in a much cooler tone than he had intended.

Olivia's surprise was evident in the way she gawped at him. "Then you wish to decline the invitation?" She blinked rapidly. "You perhaps want the two of us to finally have a bit of a honeymoon?"

His eyes instinctively drifted toward Simmons, who still stood beside them, holding out the tray, containing yet another letter. He took the missive from the tray, then nodded, effectively dismissing the manservant.

As Simmons hurried away, John glanced over the note. "This has been sealed with Benedict's ring." He waved the thin piece of paper at Olivia. "Do you know why he has written as well as Rose?"

"I am sure he only means to make the invitation formal," she replied. "He wants us both to come to Dewsbury Manor in a few days and…"

"You may go, if you like," John interrupted, "but I shall stay here."

"You…you do not wish to go visit with our friends?"

Her astonishment mixed with dismay, and John felt guilt claw at his insides as her face fell.

"I do not," he said brusquely.

"But…" Olivia persisted, "it is dearest Rose and Benedict. They are our family and friends and…"

"Please," John interjected, "feel free to join them at your earliest convenience."

She narrowed her eyes and pierced him with a steady gaze. "But you mean to stay here?"

He nodded his head respectfully.

"Why?" she questioned unabashedly.

Her forthright manner, the way she said exactly what she was thinking and feeling was enough to make John want to turn away from her. He had allowed himself a moment of weakness last night when she held him close, but now, in the light of day, he could not and would not be persuaded to speak aloud his true feelings.

"I…I wish to stay here."

"Then I shall linger with you," she retorted sharply.

"No!" he snapped because suddenly, an idea occurred to him.

When they were both at Frontershire Manor, the arrangement going forward would be awkward. It would be difficult to keep his distance from her and conceal what he meant to guard. He would visit her bedchambers and do his duty from now until she announced that she was with child, but he would do his best to separate himself from her. But…if she went to Dewsbury Manor for a time, he would have his home to himself once more and would be spared the indignity of constantly engaging in these sorts of discourses that tested his will and fortitude.

"You do not wish to stay, so I will not keep you."

"But I want to be with you," she whispered, edging closer to him so that only a wisp of air separated them. "Tell me you do not want me to leave. Tell me you wish to hold me close."

"I…"

The words caught in John's throat. He knew what he wanted to say, but his pride and stubbornness would not allow him to admit such weakness a second time.

"I think it would be best if you answered your cousin's letter promptly. Assure her that as soon as your packing is complete, you will be on your way to Dewsbury Manor."

"And you will come with me?" He could see the flicker of hope when it darted through her eyes, but it was fleeting.

She knows what I am thinking. She can see that I mean to turn her away.

So, instead of prolonging the moment and making matters worse, he simply said, "Go, Olivia. Do not tarry here."

While he had just dismissed her, he did not stand about and wait for her to take her leave. Instead, he marched toward the house and charged straight toward the library. His boots made an awful tromping noise as he stomped down the hall, so he willed himself to relax, but it did little good. By the time he made it to his destination, he had attracted Frederick's attention, and his friend was hot on his heels, trailing just a pace behind as he entered what had once been his sanctuary.

Angry with himself and the situation, John unbuttoned his jacket, yanked it off his shoulders, then threw it on the ground at his feet.

"I take it your conversation with Lady Frontershire did not go as planned," Frederick said as he strode forward, picked the garment off the ground, and gently patted it with his hand as if to brush away a speck of dust. "Did you lose your way and say something impolite?"

"I…" John gritted his teeth in frustration. "I ordered Olivia away."

"You…what?"

"Taking Olivia into my bed last night was a mistake—a dreadful one."

"It was not," Frederick countered without a trace of his usual sarcasm or levity coloring his tone. "Lady Olivia is your wife, and your plan all along was to wed a young woman so she might give you an heir." His voice softened slightly. "You may not realize it, my friend, but that means you always intended to seduce your wife. You always wanted to…"

"But this was different," John protested. "It was not as I expected it to be."

Frederick snorted. "Then, perhaps you did it wrong."

John gave his friend a look that would have silenced an entire flock of chirping birds, but Viscount Newley was not the sort of gentleman who shrank under the withering stare of another.

"All I meant, John, was that mayhap this instance was more like lovemaking than seduction, and that is why you find yourself reeling and on uneven ground this morning."

John turned his furious stare to his brother's portrait. He glared at Percy for a long moment then mumbled, "I know nothing of lovemaking."