"Good."
Gideon turned to Charis and crooked his arm. Another action to convince their guests this was a normal wedding. Hesitantly, she rested her hand on his fine woolen sleeve. Beneath the expensive material, she felt his body"s latent power. She fought the urge to curl her fingers into his coat. Goodness, she"d touched him more in the last ten minutes than she had since he"d been insensible with illness.
"Thank you for your a.s.sistance." As Gideon addressed the clergyman, he sounded lordly and cool, not at all the man who shrank from the brush of her hand.
The vicar closed his prayer book. "Will you and your bride join Mrs. Briggs and myself for a gla.s.s of madeira at the vicarage?"
Gideon"s expression became more remote. "I"m afraid that"s impossible although your invitation is kind. Do we need to sign further doc.u.ments?"
The vicar shook his head, his face almost comical with disappointment. "No. You"re married right and tight."
"Capital. We"ll wish you good day, then." The arm under Charis"s hand was rock-hard with tension, but to any observer, Gideon appeared completely in control of himself and his surroundings. "Remember, not a word."
Tulliver and William approached them as the vicar left.
"G.o.d grant you every happiness, Lady Charis," Tulliver said quietly.
"Aye, my lady," William said behind her.
Such simple wishes. Such impossible wishes. Furiously, she blinked away tears. She couldn"t cry now. She had to stay strong for what awaited.
"Thank you," she said in a choked voice.
"Are you all right?" Gideon murmured, leaning toward her as they stood near the grate. It made her wince to hear him sounding like any new groom, mindful of his wife"s comfort.
"Yes," she said almost inaudibly, concealing her unhappiness by tilting her head, so her bonnet shaded her face.
But, of course, he must guess how she felt.
Her fingers clutched at his sleeve, then she realized what she did and s.n.a.t.c.hed her hand away. "I"m sorry," she gasped.
He loathed her touching him. That much she knew.
He caught her hand in a ruthless grip and dragged it back. "We need to appear like any happy couple," he growled under his breath, even though she felt him shaking with disgust.
"Then smile," she hissed.
His lips curved upward, but no warmth entered his eyes. He looked drawn and distant as though his essential self hid away.
He turned to the men. "It"s time to head home. If there"s sign of trouble in Penrhyn, send word under the names of John and Mary Holloway here at the Port Hotel. We"ll make our own way back next month."
Tulliver bent his head in acknowledgment. "Aye, guvnor. And congratulations. You"ve snagged yourself a fine la.s.s there, make no mistake."
For the first time, Gideon"s smile looked natural. "I have at that. She got much the worst of the bargain."
His lies sliced at Charis. She bit back an acid retort.
Tulliver and William left Charis alone with Gideon. Suddenly, the luxurious parlor seemed cavernous, echoing. Across the floor, the door to the equally luxurious bedroom loomed like the gates of h.e.l.l. She felt ill at ease with him now as she never had before. Even after that desperate kiss at Penrhyn.
"I"ve arranged dinner." Her husband leaned one arm on the mantelpiece. He"d wasted no time putting distance between them once their onlookers departed. His gloved hand fisted against the ledge, and he looked as if he braced for disaster.
"I"m not hungry," she said tonelessly.
"Appearances..."
"Must be maintained. I know."
Charis knew she behaved badly, but she couldn"t help it. She was torn between desperate grat.i.tude and frustrated longing. And slashing guilt because there should only be grat.i.tude.
Lines of tension framed his mouth, and his eyes glittered with stress. Again, she reminded herself he put himself through this suffering for her. Sick shame left a vile taste in her mouth.
If she had a shred of decency, she"d ask nothing further of him.
But she couldn"t silence her wayward heart, which shrieked and clamored and demanded. She longed for him to love her more than she wanted to take her next breath. Nor could anything shake her bone-deep certainty that if he let himself love her, he"d find his own salvation.
Self-serving justification for her hunger? Or truth? She couldn"t say. But he was worth more than this barren bargain they"d struck. She was worth more.
Night had fallen, and she moved around the room lighting candles. There was some relief in the workaday action. As light bloomed, she became conscious of Gideon"s shallow breathing.
"Are you ill?" she asked with deliberate calm, carefully lighting each branch of the candelabra on the sideboard.
"No," he said hoa.r.s.ely. His face was paper white. He looked like a man approaching the limits of endurance.
She knew what set that haunted look in his eyes. The prospect of bedding her. She tensed her throat against the agony of that awareness.
Compa.s.sion as much as conscience provoked her to speak. "Gideon, we don"t have to do this. The vicar said we"re married right and tight. You"ve already gone to extraordinary lengths to keep me safe." She extended one hand in a wordless plea for him to lay aside his burdens. If only for one night. "I can never find words to express my thanks. Nothing could repay what your championship of me has cost you. You needn"t make further sacrifices."
He sucked in a deep breath, then, to her complete shock, he laughed. His dark eyes glinted with self-derisive humor as he straightened away from the hearth.
"Good G.o.d, anyone who knew me in my salad days would roll around the floor laughing himself sick to hear you. You"d think I was some shivering virgin." A cynical expression crossed his face, and he suddenly looked eons older than his twenty-five years. "I have done this before, you know."
Yes, with his skilled and spectacular Indian bibis. The statement didn"t ease her uncertainty. It just made her jealous and insecure. "I"m well aware of that," she said starkly.
How she wished she had an ounce of those women"s sensual skills. She"d captivate her husband with such pleasure, he couldn"t help falling in love.
His face filled with sorrow. "I"ll try my best not to hurt you."
"I know." She"d trust him with her life. She already had. Just as she"d trusted him with her heart. Even if he didn"t want it.
"With a first time, there can be pain."
The subject made him uncomfortable. Or perhaps he was merely uncomfortable talking about this with his troublesome bride. His exotic Indian lovers, she was sure, hadn"t made him feel awkward.
Stop it, Charis.
"I know what takes place." Heat flooded her face. She wasn"t easy with this conversation either. She raised her chin, although the hand holding the taper trembled. "I grew up in the country, and my mother told me what to expect."
He raised his eyebrows, and his lips curved in another ironic smile. "Quite the expert then."
She shook her head as nerves set her belly to cramping. "I never kissed anyone until...until yesterday."
His face hardened in anger. "You must think you"ve married the clumsiest oaf in Christendom."
Her voice was muted. "You know I don"t think that. I"m prepared for what"s going to happen."
"Well, that rea.s.sures a man." In an abrupt gesture, he ran a hand through his hair.
"I don"t know what else to say," she said helplessly, fighting the urge to smooth that unruly dark ma.s.s. The need to touch him was a constant fever in her blood. Fighting it left her exhausted, jumpy, nervous. "It"s hardly a normal marriage, is it?"
"No, it"s hardly that." His voice thickened with regret. "You"ve missed out on so much. There"s nothing I can do to make it up to you."
Stay with me. Love me.
She stifled the words. Things were difficult enough without her nagging him for what he couldn"t give. She blew out the taper and set it in its holder.
"None of this is your fault," she said despondently, turning away and slumping into a chair. She was weary, although most of her tiredness was emotional rather than physical.
She went on in the same austere voice. "It"s not my fault either. Hubert and Felix are greedy and corrupt. Lord Desaye is desperate and deceitful. But the amount of money my father left me is obscene. It turns men into monsters." She paused. "Every man except you."
He grimaced. "I"m already a monster." He continued before she could protest. "Lord Desaye, I take it, is the suitor."
She shuddered. "He gambled away his own fortune and his first wife"s. A shadow hangs over her fate. He was the only witness to the carriage accident that killed her."
"How did he and your stepbrothers link up?" Gideon seemed relieved to discuss something other than her imminent deflowering.
"Money, of course." Her voice was flat. She fiddled with her wedding ring. It was old and heavy and sat loose on her finger. A symbol of the weak bond between her and Gideon? "They gambled together. I"m sure Hubert or Felix would have tried to marry me if the church didn"t frown upon unions between stepsiblings."
"Did they tell you this?"
"On that last day. I"d worked it out already." She released the ring, and her fingers curled into claws in her lap. "I sometimes wish I"d been born poor. My fortune has only caused misery."
"You"ll grow into your station. At least as my wife, you"re safe from fortune hunters."
She looked at him curiously. "Doesn"t the idea of keeping my wealth appeal? You haven"t asked how much I"m worth."
"I know what you"re worth," he said sharply, stepping toward her. "It has nothing to do with pounds, shillings, and pence."
She fought back the traitorous warmth that seeped into her heart at his response. "Few people would agree."
"The rest have fewer brains than G.o.d gave a flea."
As she gazed into his blazing black eyes, she couldn"t look away, and the breath caught in her throat. Heat flooded her and settled like lava in her belly. The overwhelming emotion that flooded her was heady, uncontrollable...terrifying. He had such power over her, and she was helpless to resist.
He stared at her as if he thought she was a princess. It was cruel. He didn"t want her. She opened her mouth to speak but had no idea what she meant to say.
Someone knocked softly on the door. The charged silence shattered.
She sucked breath into starved lungs. Gideon gave permission for the servants to enter. Everything turned to movement as waiters set out dinner.
She"d seen Gideon leave a substantial tip when they"d registered. He"d explained he and his bride insisted upon privacy. If they left Jersey without undue disturbance, he"d see the staff were suitably rewarded.
With a flourish, one waiter produced a bottle of champagne. "The compliments of the house, Mr. Holloway. To you and the new Mrs. Holloway, our very best wishes for a long and happy life together."
Charis finally had some idea how Gideon felt when people hailed him as a hero. That he existed in two realities operating side by side but forever disconnected. She kept forgetting that as far as the outside world was concerned, this was the happiest day of her life.
The strain of reconciling the contradictions left her disoriented, sick, detached from any reality at all.
The waiter opened the champagne and poured it into two heavy crystal gla.s.ses befitting St. Helier"s finest hostelry. There was more bustle as servants pulled out chairs and unfolded napkins and served the first course, a fish soup fragrant with garlic and herbs.
Finally, she and Gideon were alone. A painful tension tightened around them like a steel net.
"It looks delicious." She lifted her spoon, then put it down again, the soup untouched.
"Yes."
There was a pause while they both stared at their plates.
He looked up. "Perhaps I should see what"s next."
"Perhaps you should," she murmured, although she knew she wouldn"t eat that either. She felt like a boulder blocked her throat.
He lifted the covers and rich savory aromas drifted into the air. "Poulet a la persane. Boeuf en daube. Lobster. It"s a feast."
"Didn"t you order it?"
"I said to send up whatever they recommended. What would you like?"
"Anything."
She watched as he filled two plates from the serving dishes.
"You know, I used to dream of dinners like this when I was in India." He slid her plate in front of her and took his place opposite, shaking out his napkin with an elegance that made her breath catch. Even such a simple gesture left her aching with desire.
Could she endure a lifetime of this relentless longing?
"What did you eat there?" It was a neutral enough topic. Would she spend her years making meaningless conversation with the man she"d married? The cold unhappy future stretched before her like an endless steppe.
He shrugged, his hand playing with the stem of his gla.s.s. He still wore gloves. "Curry. Delicacies fit for a rajah. Cold rice with weevils."
Painful memories she couldn"t hope to understand shadowed his face. Before she could inquire further, he raised his gla.s.s. "I"m remiss in my husbandly duty. To my lovely bride."
It was more than she could bear. She shoved her plate away and rose on wobbly legs. "Please don"t."
He put down the champagne, like his dinner, untasted. "I too find my appet.i.te lacking." He stood. "I"ll take a walk. There"s a bath coming. No hurry. I"ll be away for several hours."
s.n.a.t.c.hing privacy to fortify himself for the onerous task ahead, she guessed with another stab of pain. "I wish you a pleasant stroll," she said lifelessly.
He bent his head in a courtly salute. "Thank you."