Chapter Six

H arriet helped Violet dress for her wedding, and when the lady's maid proclaimed her as lovely as any bride had ever been, she walked to the door and left her room.

She had to take several deep breaths to convince herself that this day was actually happening, but it was. She was going to be married to one exceedingly kind—and exceedingly handsome—man.

"Would you like me to help you down the stairs?" Harriet asked her when Violet stood at the top and didn't begin her descent.

"No, thank you, Harriet. You must go first."

"Yes, my lady."

Harriet, dressed in her Sunday best, walked around the bride and descended the stairs first. Violet followed. When she reached the midpoint of the stairs, she looked up to find the Earl of Markham standing by the newel post waiting for her.

"Would you like me to walk with you, my lady?"

Violet smiled. "Yes, my lord. That would be grand."

He lifted his hand and took her fingers in his.

A spark of electricity ran through her arm and traveled all the way through her body. She looked at him and smiled, then drew even with him as they walked together to the library. The cherry-paneled room was her favorite, and that was where the ceremony would take place.

"You are a stunning bride, my lady," he said as sincerely as she knew he could.

"And you are a stunningly handsome groom, my lord. You outshine your bride as the sun outshines the moon."

"Not today, my lady. No one can outshine a bride on her wedding day."

"Thank you, my lord. I do feel like this is a special day."

"It is. For both of us."

They reached the vicar and stopped. Violet wanted to remember every second of today, but the ceremony was over before she could take it all in. They repeated their vows and exchanged rings. The vicar pronounced them man and wife, then said the groom could kiss the bride.

Phillip focused on her with a smile on his face. It was a look she would remember for the rest of her life. It wasn't a look of regret, but an expression that represented happiness and…admiration.

He lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers.

Violet kissed him in return, then her husband turned her to face the cheering guests.

She locked her gaze with Phillip's and smiled. He returned her smile, and the staff and guests cheered even louder.

When the cheers quieted, Wilbert stepped forward with instructions. A wedding feast had been laid out for all to enjoy. Once the staff had eaten their fill, they were instructed to return to their jobs of packing up and closing the house, then packing up their personal belongings to take with them to Parkwood Manor. As the happy staff clucked over the sumptuous buffet, Wilbert led Phillip and Violet to a private table lavishly set.

"Thank you, Wilbert," Violet said. "You and Mrs. Wilbert have made this a very special day."

"It was our pleasure, my lady. We did no more than you have always done for all of us. Have you decided if you are going to leave today, or wait until tomorrow?"

Violet looked at Phillip. "Because of the lateness of the hour," he said, "I think it would be wise to wait until tomorrow. It will give the staff more time to pack, and we'll be able to arrive at our destination in the daylight."

"That seems a wise decision, my lord."

"Yes," Violet agreed. "We will spend one last night here, then leave in the morning."

Phillip turned toward the seats prepared for the Earl of Markham and his countess.

"Would you get me a plate of food, please, husband?" Violet asked. "Not too much. I'm too excited to eat a great deal."

"I shall be delighted," Phillip said, and went to do her bidding. When he returned, he placed a plate with entirely too much food in front of her.

"I'll have to remember to make a more explicit request next time. I think you filled my plate as if you were going to eat from it, as well."

"You forget—I've been feeding growing boys and robust men for a number of years. We always eat everything that's put in front of us."

Violet ate what she could, and when she finished, she walked about the ballroom and chatted with the staff as they ate. She thanked them for their service and for choosing to travel with them to Parkwood Manor. She was pleased that so many of them had decided to make the move.

When she'd made the rounds, she went to her rooms to oversee the packing of her personal items. She knew that would take several hours, and she was torn between excitement and regret at leaving what had been her home her whole life. But she was opening a new chapter and looked forward to what life had in store for her.

Violet sat in her bedroom waiting for her new husband to come to her. Tonight was her wedding night, a night she never thought she'd have. In moments when she had allowed herself to even contemplate such a thing, the idea of being bedded hadn't carried much that interested her. It would be, she had supposed, a few minutes she could manage to forget once it was over.

But now she'd met the man who would do the deed, and the very thought of him touching her made her blood race through her body and thrum at her wrists. Her breathing became oddly shallow, and she was suddenly intimately aware of the small bubbles of her breasts rising above the lace of her extravagantly expensive nightdress. The anticipation of his presence in her bedroom was wildly unexpected and thrilling to experience.

Violet issued herself a silent reprimand. Such things might be in store for pretty young brides, but she would do best to sink into quiet invisibility and let the poor man find what pleasure in her he might manage in the dark.

Still, Phillip Eversley, Earl of Markham, had been quite perfect in every way so far. He had been kind and thoughtful and interesting to talk to. He was intelligent and had an engaging sense of humor. She had no reason to believe he would come to her bedroom as anything other than a good, kind man. And a handsome one, of course. A good, kind, handsome man.

That thought brought reality crashing home, and Violet swallowed hard. In the two short days she'd known him, she had felt even less attractive than she usually felt around people.

But here she was, ready to be the man's unattractive wife in the true sense of the word, and she was frightened to death. She clutched the bedcovers and took several deep breaths until she heard a soft knock on the door.

"Have I given you enough time?" her husband asked as he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

"If you'd have given me any more time I'd probably have bolted down the servants' stairs and out the kitchen door. I'm sure I would be in Scotland by now."

His laughter filled the room. "Oh, my lady. You never cease to delight me. Your humor is precious."

Violet clutched her hands in her lap and squeezed until her knuckles turned white.

"Here, now. Give me your hands," he said.

"Why?"

"Because I'm afraid you might bruise your fingers if you squeeze them any tighter."

Violet surrendered her hands, then smiled. "That feels much better. I hadn't realized I was squeezing them quite so brutally."

"I'd tell you to relax, and that you have nothing to be nervous over, but that wouldn't be true. I don't think there's a bride alive who isn't nervous on her wedding night."

"How about husbands? Are they nervous about their wedding nights?"

"Of course we are. But we are men. We aren't allowed to show our fear."

"Oh," she said, then turned her head and looked at him. "And why is that?"

"Because it's our job to appear in control. We're supposed to be experienced when we come to our brides on our wedding night."

"So, are you?"

"In control?" he asked.

"No. Experienced."

"Hush, now. You're not supposed to ask a man that. You're just supposed to assume we know what we're doing because we've had numerous experiences bedding the opposite sex."

"Then I will assume you are experienced. And I will assume that because you were in Her Majesty's Army, and are extraordinarily handsome, you have had numerous opportunities to, um, rehearse."

That made him laugh loud and long.

Violet breathed a heavy sigh that raised and lowered her shoulders. "Thank you, my lord. I feel ever so much better now that I know you are well in control of what we're about to do."

"Well, then." He kissed her hand. "I shall endeavor not to bungle things too badly, wife."

His smile was contagious, and Violet couldn't stop a laugh from escaping her own lips. His eyes sparkled as he placed his hands on her arms and turned her to face him.

She locked her gaze with his, then watched him as he lowered his head and kissed her.

Violet had waited all day for him to kiss her the way he'd kissed her the previous evening. It spawned the most glorious emotion she'd ever experienced. She hadn't known a man's kiss could ignite the fire that raged through her. She hadn't known kissing a man could stir the emotions his lips had kindled.

He wrapped his arms around her and gently shifted her until she lay in the middle of the bed. Without breaking their kiss, he stretched out beside her and let his hands move over places that came alive at his touch.

Violet's flesh was on fire. She feared she would burst into flame if he continued—and then he more than continued. Cool air touched her flesh, and she realized he'd pulled the ribbon that released the gown from her shoulders, and she was bare to his touch.

His hands covered her breasts, his fingers found their peaks, and still he continued to kiss her.

Violet couldn't lie still. It was as if she couldn't control her body. Then his mouth moved to where his fingers had been and his hands traveled down her body, lower and lower.

Violet heard herself cry out, but she didn't know what she was crying out for—until he entered her. Then a sensation inside her body grew and grew until whatever it was seemed on the brink of exploding.

Then it did. It shattered and engulfed her with the most glorious feeling a woman could ever need or want or imagine.

Phillip lay on his side in the early morning hours just as the sun was coming up over the horizon and stared at the woman lying beside him. The woman who was his wife.

To the world she wasn't beautiful, would never be considered attractive, but to him she seemed the most perfect woman God had ever created. Because she had accepted him. Saved him. Welcomed him. Comforted and teased him. He was well and truly pleased with what had transpired in the dark hours of the night.

He didn't love her—he'd only known her three days, so it was impossible to say he loved her—but he did care for her.

He thought of all she had done for him, given him, shared with him, and his heart filled with something akin to gratitude and everlasting devotion. No, he couldn't say he loved her, but what he felt was a powerful emotion that could easily be described as affection.

He reached out his hand and brushed a stray hair that had fallen over her forehead. She turned her head and shifted slightly at his touch. She blinked once, then blinked again, then opened her eyes and looked at him.

Ever so slowly, she smiled at him, and his heart swelled in his chest.

"We've only been married a few short hours and you've already told me two lies, my lord."

"Two? What was my second lie?"

"It was a lie of omission, sir. You led me to assume that you were not an expert at lovemaking. You led me to believe that you were sorely out of practice with, hmm, shall we say, conjugal mysteries."

"I did nothing of the sort. I only said I would do my best to pleasure you."

"Then perhaps you did not lie to me, because you certainly did that much."

"Were you pleasured?"

"I was more than pleasured. I didn't know such feelings existed."

"Did your mother never speak with you about your wedding night?"

Violet lowered her gaze and snuggled against him. "My mother never thought I would have a wedding night. I only overheard her speak with my sister about the eventuality."

"What did she say?"

"She said that it wasn't a pleasant experience but that the duty of every wife was to provide her husband with an heir and a spare. So, she had to endure the embarrassing act until she provided an heir. After that, the husband would more than likely leave her alone and would find a mistress to satisfy his baser needs."

"Do you think that's what your father did?"

Violet lifted her head, and her gaze was filled with such confusion that Phillip had to laugh.

"I don't actually know, Markham. I've never thought of father doing this with another woman."

Phillip gathered her closer to him and wrapped his arms around her.

"What about you, my lord? Is that what you will do?"

He reared back as if surprised by her question.

"Are you asking if I will find a mistress once you provide me with an heir?"

"Yes."

"Then the answer is no , Lettie."

"Society wouldn't blame you."

"Just because it's something they would condone, doesn't mean it's something I would consider doing to you, or to our marriage."

"How did you acquire such an upstanding sense of decency?"

"By watching the example my father and brother set and knowing I must do the opposite."

"Then you'd best be very careful, my lord, or I will find myself caring for you a great deal more than you might wish me to."

"Have no fear, my lady," Phillip said on a hearty laugh. "You will find so much to disparage about me that it will dull any thought of admiration."

Phillip was going to kiss her, but before he could lean down to press his lips to hers, his wife wrapped her arm around his neck and brought his face down to meet hers.

He touched his lips to hers and kissed her long and deep. Her eagerness aroused him, and suddenly he couldn't get enough of her, couldn't drink enough of her. Couldn't kiss enough of her.

He wanted to kiss more than her lips, but he knew where that would lead and couldn't go there. He'd made love to her twice during the night, and they had a three-hour journey to reach Parkwood Manor yet today. He wouldn't allow his lust to make the long carriage ride more uncomfortable for her than necessary.

"I wouldn't mind," she said, as if knowing what he was considering.

He shook his head. "You will be too sore by the time we arrive at Parkwood. I would rather enjoy our first night in our new home than make love again in your old home."

She pulled his head down and kissed him again. "You are very thoughtful." She snuggled back against him. "Do you think it's possible that we made a babe last night?"

"Possible, yet not probable. It often takes many more tries than one."

"I'm glad," she said. "I would not like to think of having to stop making love to you after I've just learned what it's all about."

"Oh, my lady. You have not learned half of what it's all about."

"I haven't?"

"No. I have much more to teach you, but not yet. We need to dress and ready our staff. We have much to accomplish today."

They slid from the rumpled bed and helped each other dress. It was the beginning of a new adventure for the both of them. If only things would remain as happy and euphoric as they had begun.

But that wasn't the way life was.