Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

The next morning, or more accurately, later that morning, we made our way to the breakfast room for some much needed nourishment. Despite the wanton intimacies of the night before, in broad daylight and with the staff nearby, I felt bashful with my husband, so directed my focus to spreading butter over my toast.

"What is so special about the toast that you stare at it instead of your handsome spouse?" he commented. "Do I no longer hold any allure for you?"

"Jeffrey," I whispered, using my peripheral vision to determine if the staff could hear his comments.

"Is it so wrong for a gentleman to hope to have his wife's attention on himself instead of on a piece of bread?" He leaned toward me. "You were certainly attentive last night."

My knife clattered against the edge of my plate, leaving a chip in the fine china bearing the Amherst family crest. "Oh, I am so sorry." Shocked and embarrassed, I covered my mouth with my hands.

Alerted by the racket, a footman appeared, took away the damaged plate, and replaced it with another. I expected Jeffrey to be angry, but he laughed.

"This is not funny," I said. "I broke something with my clumsiness."

"I should have known better than to shock you with my comment. I am grateful since the last man who startled you ended up with a black eye."

"Jeffrey! Please do not mention that. I am sorely embarrassed by the event and regret ever telling you."

"Now, my little wife, no secrets between us. Besides, I am glad you slugged the other man. Otherwise, you might not have arrived here to spit on my shoe."

I opened my mouth to reply, but closed it without saying anything because visitors were announced. We exchanged a puzzled glance, wondering who would call upon a newlywed couple the morning after their marriage.

My father and Mrs. White entered the room. If I had been startled earlier, it was nothing compared to the shock of seeing my father with that woman's hand upon his arm.

Jeffrey recovered first and invited them to join us.

My father declined. "I have come to bid Sarah good-bye." He turned to me with a smile and opened his arms in an invitation for an embrace.

I did not feel so amiable. "What is she doing here?" I pointed an unladylike finger at Mrs. White.

The object of my attention clasped my father's arm possessively then directed her self-satisfied smile in my direction. "Tell her, Albert," she said through the grin plastered onto her lips.

My father cleared his throat. "Yes, I also wanted to share with you, Sarah, and you as well, your grace, that Mrs. White and I are to be married today, before our ship sails for America."

"I will be your new mother," the odious woman sneered.

All of the warm, relaxed feelings I had enjoyed the preceding few hours vanished, and my body shook with white-hot rage.

"What?" My high-pitched screech drew the footman back into the room. I knew I should curb my reaction but could not. Not for this.

I left my seat and strode toward the two intruders with all the hauteur my newly acquired title gave me. "No woman could take the place of my mother. Most certainly not a fortune-hunting shrew like you."

"Sarah," my father glared down at me, his voice threatening. "I will not allow you to speak to your stepmother in such a manner."

"You may give her whatever title you wish." I drew myself up to my full, yet still petite, height. "But under no circumstances will I ever acknowledge her as a member of my family."

My hands quivered. My reaction angered my father, but I did not care. "She is cruel and heartless and cares nothing for you other than for your bank account."

My father took a step toward me, his hand raised as if to strike. I flinched and covered my face but nothing happened. When I looked up, Jeffrey held my father's arm twisted behind his back.

"I do not know what your practices are in America," Jeffrey said to my father, his low, measured voice emanating danger, "but no man enters my home and threatens my wife ." He released my father's arm. "I will thank you both to leave this house immediately and never return unless invited by my wife, the Duchess of Amherst."

Jeffrey's stare burned into my father until he lowered his eyes and led Mrs. White away.

Once the door closed behind them, I collapsed against my husband who held me in the protective circle of his arms. I inhaled deeply of his scent. Eventually, the pounding of my heartbeat returned to normal.

"Thank you," I whispered against his chest. "No one has ever stood up for me like that before."

He tipped my head back and caressed the side of my face. "You are my wife, Sarah. It is my duty to stand up for you, protect you from harm. Keep you safe."

His broad hand ran up and down my back, offering comfort and warmth.

"I am too much trouble," I whispered.

Jeffrey's gaze bore into mine. "That is simply not true," he said. "I am sorry that you believe that."

"I have always felt like a burden. Ever since my mother died. My father wanted sons, not me. Only when he realized he could marry me off to better his own standing, did he have any interest in me. Now he is gone. My family is gone."

Jeffrey cupped the back of my head and held me close, my face resting on his strong chest. I inhaled his scent and some of the tension left me.

"You are not too much trouble and you are not a burden," he said, his voice rumbling beneath my ear. "Do I make myself clear?"

I nodded.

Again, he drew me away from him and looked into my face. "I am sorry your father has treated you this way and I am sorry that he is returning to America. But, I am your husband. You are my family and I am yours."

I stared at him, tears sparking the corners of my eyes. "Why?" I asked in a whisper.

He gave me an indulgent smile. "Because, poppet, that is what happens when you get married. Did you not listen to the vicar who performed our marriage? We are to cleave to one another." Then he waggled his brows at me. "Sort of like what we did last night."

It was sweet of him to try to cajole me out of my mood, but I could not let this moment pass. I might not have the courage again to broach the subject.

"Why," I said, forcing myself to continue, "did you marry me? Why not send me back to America, shamed yet again?"

He looked at me for a breathtaking moment, his entire countenance softening until his gaze was quite tender. So tender, I blinked back more tears.

"I shall admit," he said, "that for the briefest of moments, I considered it. But when I thought about never seeing you again, never hearing one of your tart comments or seeing your beautiful smile…well, let us simply say that I found that notion intolerable. Let there be no mistake, Sarah, I wanted to marry you and I intend to be a good husband to you. Just as I know you intend to be a good wife to me. And I know you want me too."

My heart hammered in my chest and I gazed at my handsome husband. Was it possible that he might care for me, just a tiny amount? Perhaps, one day we would be a love match?

'Twas nearly too much for me to hope for, but in that moment, it seemed possible and happiness filled the places in my heart that had felt empty moments before.

"Well," he said, the hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth, "are you not going to argue with me? Tell me that you do not want me? Do not enjoy being married to me?"

It was a challenge and we both knew it. For once, I did not up the ante, but instead I stretched up on my toes and kissed him boldly on the mouth. "I do want you," I said.

He smiled against my lips and then swept me into his arms, carrying me through the townhouse while the servants gaped. "We do not wish to be disturbed," he called over his shoulder as we ascended the stairs and I buried my heated face in his neck.

"Jeffrey!" I gasped. "You are scandalous."

"Is that not what brought us together? Scandal? So perhaps it is not such a bad thing after all."

I squeezed my arms around him. How had I, a foolish girl from America, managed to find the best man in all of London? Perhaps in the entire world?

He laid me upon our marriage bed and hovered over me. I reached up and caressed the side of his face, then drew him down to me for a kiss filled with all of the words I wanted to say to him but did not have the courage to do so. Not yet, at least.

But, as he proceeded to kiss and caress me, stripping away my clothing as well as his own, I knew that I was in severe danger of falling hopelessly in love with my husband.