CHAPTER FIVE

She waited for him by the window, wearing one of the new silk shifts that Miranda had had made for her trousseau.

The slide of the silk against her skin made her feel beautiful. Made her wish Sean would hurry the business he had with the duke. Waiting heightened the tension that had been drawing tighter within her all day long.

She was nervous, but not sure why. She knew well enough what was to happen. She had listened to her married sisters whispering—not to mention the more interesting gossip that occurred downstairs in the kitchen among the servants.

She and Sean would do no more than any other married man and woman did when they began their marriage. Still, that it would happen tonight seemed almost unbelievable.

She moved restlessly, and caught the delicate scent of the rose petals that had been packed in with the new clothing for her trousseau. She couldn’t doubt the truth of what was to be, though. Not dressed for seduction as she was.

Not in this bedroom, bigger than hers, decorated in a Spartan masculine style. Miranda had prepared it for them so they would have privacy, and she’d been glad. She had spent her life in rooms decorated for females—single females for the most part. Young females at that. The heaviness of the furnishings made the evening seem the most serious of her entire life.

Yet again she found herself wishing Sean would finish his business and come up to join her. She felt alone here in this unfamiliar room, waiting for her husband—almost as if her family were somewhere far away. Which was absurd.

She was not alone. A pull of the rope by the bed would bring a servant immediately. Her sisters and their husbands were, if not still downstairs dancing, then in their rooms preparing for bed or in the nursery tucking in tired children for the third or fourth time this evening.

Miranda had been here not that long ago, to help her dress, to congratulate her once more.

Her eldest sister had squeezed her hand and kissed her cheek. There had been tears in her eyes when she gazed at the youngest of her sisters, the one she had raised like a mother for so many years.

Kate supposed she’d have offered reassurance on the events to come this evening—if she’d known that Sean had done nothing more than kiss her the night he came to her bed. However, Kate had kept that slightly embarrassing fact to herself and Miranda had not spoken to her about such things.

The sound of the door latch lifting sent her heart into a skittering response. She turned toward the window, suddenly afraid to see his face. The night was dark and shadowed outside, but the candle glow inside the room—from the dozen candles that had been lit to add yet another bit of romance for the newlyweds—caused his entry to reflect in the window glass.

He came in quietly, as if he thought she might be asleep despite her promise earlier in the evening. He glanced at the bed with a puzzled frown.

“I was afraid I’d break my promise if I waited there,” she said softly. “Besides, after last time, I couldn’t be sure you wouldn’t climb in through the window again.”

She waited for him to cross the room to her, but he stood with his back against the door as if he weren’t certain what to do. She didn’t like to think what it boded for the night if he was as uncertain as she. Had he changed him mind, now that he had won and wed her?

She turned to face him.

He smiled at her, but his smile did not reach his eyes. Something was wrong. “I prefer doors, for the most part, if that sets your mind at ease for the future.”

“I wonder if the maids will dare enter this room before noon tomorrow,“ she said, smoothing the silk of her gown. Was he waiting for her to give him the signal that he could approach? Perhaps she should have confessed to Miranda that she had no idea what a bride should do with her new husband once they were alone together.

There was a puzzling hesitation in him, though she saw the warming of his attention when she shifted so that the silk slid against her curves. She felt a moment of weightlessness as his eyes kindled at the sight of his bride dressed to please a husband, and his eyes traveled the length of her hair, brushed to a shining fall.

“So, am I worth all the trouble you had to go through to get me?” She wanted to hear an unequivocal yes.

“Of course.” His words confirmed her worst fears. “But I’m afraid I’ve had some fearful news from home. I’m to leave tonight for Ireland.”

Kate braced herself against the windowsill as the confusing haze of anticipation drained away so quickly her knees threatened to buckle. Leaving. Tonight. “It is our wedding night.”

For a moment she dared hope she had misunderstood, but his brows were drawn together in a serious frown that told her she had not—nor was he teasing her.

“I am devastated to have to postpone it, Katie, but I’ve no choice in the matter.” There was no hitch of indecision in his voice. Regret perhaps, but no doubt that he would indeed leave her to sleep alone tonight.

She struggled to understand, searching his expression for a sign that the dread creeping up her spine was uncalled for. She was a wife now, it was her job to understand, to make things easier for her husband. But she could not seem to get past the simple fact that he was willing to leave her on their wedding night. “Why?”

He moved beside her to gaze out the window into the moonlit darkness. “There is trouble that needs attending to at home.”

The tension she could feel thrumming through him was tenfold that of earlier this evening. His uncle’s news must have been bad indeed. “What trouble?”

He turned to her and smiled, but his eyes were dark jade and serious. “Nothing you need worry about.”

He was dismissing her again. Was this to be the pattern of her marriage in the future? Not without a fight, she thought. “Of course I must, if it takes my bridegroom away from me on my wedding night.”

He brushed her cheek with his palm and she leaned into the warm strength of his hand. “Do you not know without asking that I’ll be back as soon as I can?”

“Surely you could stay the night?” She brushed her thumb against the inside of his wrist restlessly. “What business can not wait until morning?”

The space between them seemed charged with a potent force, like magnetism. For a moment, she felt him sway toward her almost imperceptibly. “Surely I wish this devilish business could, Katie.”

“What is so urgent, then?”

He gazed down at her almost sightlessly, as if it were not she he gazed at, but something, someone, much farther away. “My sister is…ill….”

She felt the pull of his force diminish as her senses cleared abruptly. His sister? She had not even known he had a sister. And then, with a chill of dread, she found herself questioning whether or not he told her the truth. “You did not mention a sister before now.”

“No?” His gaze came back to focus on hers, and he frowned as if thinking back through what he had and hadn’t told her during their courtship. She wondered how much there might be untold, if he had not mentioned a matter so critical as a sister back in Ireland.

“Well, I have one—only one—“ he said, as if he had read her thoughts. “And she is ill and needs me.”

She could feel the distance between them as if he were already in Ireland and wondered how to bridge it. How to bring him closer to her. To make the magnetic pull of a moment ago return. She put aside her dismay that he had not spoken of his sister before the marriage. It didn’t matter, they were married and his sister was now hers. “What is her name?”

She shivered as the distance between them widened even as he spoke. “Bridget.” He seemed a thousand miles away, rather than close enough to kiss.

If she hadn’t known better, she would have believed he didn’t want to tell her his sister’s name. Was there some problem with the girl? Was she simple? She couldn’t ask that, however, without sending him even further from her, if such was possible.

Uncertain, yet desperate, Kate put her hand on his arm, tighter than might have been wise, although she knew she had no hope to keep him against his will. “How old is she, your sister?”

Again, he hesitated before speaking and his answer was almost a whisper. “Twelve.”

“So young.” Kate could imagine just how frantic she would be if one of her sisters was ill and far away. “Do you trust her governess to see to her well enough until you arrive home?”

His mouth twisted into a grimace and his words were bitter. “I sacked her governess.”

The girl was without a governess? No wonder he was a slow simmer of restlessness and impatience beneath his apparent calm. She bit back the more obvious question—why? “When did you do that?”

He looked away, and she could see he was holding something back from her. “Some time ago.”

She wondered if it had been a matter of finances and felt a twinge of guilt. While she was making him dance to her tune, had his sister been forced to go without a governess? Would he blame her for the illness? “Then of course, you must fetch her at once.”

He seemed neither pleased nor displeased by her words, almost as if he hadn’t heard her, though he nodded his head in response.

Kate felt as if he were slipping away from her as she watched. The dread in her belly coalesced into a more solid form—she was afraid if he left that he might never come back. There was only one answer. “I’ll pack quickly and come with you.” She moved toward the bell rope to summon the maid.

^0^0^

Sean felt pulled in two directions, forcefully enough to split him down the middle. Come with him? Impossible “No.” He intercepted her and pulled her into a rough embrace.

“I must. You are my husband now. You need me—“

He pressed a light kiss to her lips. “I need you here.” Another kiss. He could feel her unyielding lips begin to soften. “I need to know you’re safe here, among your family.”

“I’d rather be with you than safe. Especially if your sister is in need of a good nurse.” Kate was warm and rose scented in his arms, the silk of her gown slipped through his fingers easily. But no matter that her breathing came slightly faster and a blush sat high upon her cheeks, she was determined to have her way. “The poor thing doesn’t even have a governess, Sean. You need a woman with you for the child’s sake.”

Holding her so closely, his mind grew muddled and unfocused, so it took him a moment to think up a rational objection to her accompanying him to Ireland. An explanation that would not expose his lie. “There has been another breakout of typhus at the abbey. It is not safe for you.”

She was about to protest again, so he bent and kissed her more thoroughly than he had before. After all, he wanted to and he knew well enough from the expression that had been on her face when she first turned toward him that she had hoped he would. Her lips were soft and warm and welcoming. For a moment he was lost to the sensation that he had longed for all day. All the days since he had known her.

But such human frailties as lust must wait. With effort, he pulled away, afraid he would forget Bridget entirely in another few moments. He embellished his lie, determined to convince her quickly so that he could leave temptation behind. “What kind of husband would I be, to risk you falling ill just as I have finally managed to win you?”

His words brought a shadow to her eye, but she stifled the protest that she had been about to make and said only, “You must bring her here as soon as she is strong enough to travel—I will see to her education and care now.”

Her heart was gentle and for a moment he hoped that he would indeed bring his sister here, to be welcomed into this family. If Jeffrey’s hadn’t bound her over for hanging by now.

She frowned at him. “I wish you had told me about her in the first place, we would have invited her for the holidays and perhaps she wouldn’t have fallen ill.”

He rubbed her cheek gently with his finger. “You are generous, as always, but I thought it best for Bridget to remain in Ireland until I had settled upon a bride, married her and set up a household suitable for a child.”

She turned her cheek against his palm and sighed. “She must have been so lonely.”

“She was at home, Kate. Bachelor’s quarters are no place for a twelve year old girl.” He thought of Bridget, who loved to wander the hills, in a prison cell. London wouldn’t be much better for her, he realized, but at least she would be alive.

“Can’t you stay for the night?” She clung to him tightly for a moment, but then, as if ashamed of her selfish request, she released her hold. “What am I to do without you?”

For a moment he considered whether it would be better to consummate the marriage now, no matter how hastily. He owed her more, though, considering the way he had rushed her to the altar. “A wedding bed needs more than haste and worry, does it not?”

She nodded, but without conviction.

He sighed. “Our wedding night will be all the sweeter for the waiting, mo chroi.” The thought of Bridget clapped in a filthy jail cell had galvanized him, though, cutting through the sensual haze of being alone with his bride. He pushed her gently away from him, and bent to kiss her forehead as he lightly ran his hands along the silk-clad curve of her waist and hips. There was no time for anything more, he acknowledged grudgingly. “Prepare for Bridget’s arrival.” He would not allow himself to believe that he would return without his sister.

She stepped away from him, as if to break the spell that had enveloped them both. Worry for his “ill” sister clouded her expression. “Very well. I will ask R.J.’s sister what can be done for those suffering typhus—she is studying to be a doctor. That way, when you return, you will not have to doubt that I am unprepared.”

“You are an angel.” She looked like an angel, as well, he thought as he left her there, again by the window. The white silk fell about her with an almost unearthly glow from the scented candles blazing around the room.

As he closed the door, Sean put the image of her away from his thoughts with a sigh and sought out his uncle. Bridget could not afford for him to be distracted now. All his focus must be on winning her release.

He found Connor pacing in the library, with his bag packed and sitting beside him. “All is set.”

Resignation settled on Sean’s shoulders like a mantle and he realized he had been hoping for a reprieve—only momentary—in which he could properly celebrate his wedding night. “Then let waste no more time here.”

Ever pragmatic, Connor asked, “Have you signed the papers?”

Thinking that the sudden wealth in his coffers would make for a cold bedfellow tonight, Sean nodded. “Indeed I have. The funds are in my control.”

Connor grunted his satisfaction. “Jeffreys will have to take you seriously, now that you have the duke’s backing. He does so love the titled English, even if he has no respect for a family that ruled in Ireland for centuries before—“

Sean made a harsh sound, half to acknowledge the bite of the winter air as they left the duke’s home and half to interrupt his uncle’s diatribe. “If he is wise, Jeffreys will have released her before we arrive.”

Connor stilled, and then glanced at him with sharp assessment. “And if he has not?”

Knowing the answer would please his uncle, considering how long it had been withheld—how long Sean had held out for peaceful counsel rather than blood and open warfare—he said firmly, “Then God help him.”

Connor grinned, a blood-glint in his eye. “That’s the way I like to hear you speak. It’s hard words like those that will see Bridget free.”

Sean wasn’t so certain that any words—or bloodshed itself—would right things for his sister. What had she done? And what would he have to do to make things right? To bring his sister to London safely—and keep her safe?

***