Loving the Marquess Read online

  “Are you having another episode?”

  As soon as the question was out of her mouth she realized how foolish it sounded. It was obvious he was suffering, again, from whatever ailment had assailed him that other time. She leaned into him and draped his free arm around her shoulder.

  “You can let go of the door,” she said.

  He did so and Louisa struggled to remain upright under his weight. The position was awkward but she managed to lead him the few steps to the bed. When they finally reached it, he released her and stumbled onto it.

  Louisa placed a hand on his forehead and was shocked to find him running a fever. How was it possible that he was so ill when he had been fine only a few hours before? She turned, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm.

  “Don’t leave,” he managed, his voice barely above a whisper.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said.

  She rushed to the washstand and poured some water into the bowl. Dipping a washcloth into the cool liquid, she wrung out the excess water and returned to place it on Nicholas’s forehead. He moaned at the contact. She stood there, uncertain what to do. His eyes snapped open and ensnared her in their depths.

  “Don’t leave… please,” he said before closing his eyes again.

  Louisa looked at the chaise, thinking she could sleep there, but then swiftly discarded the notion. She and Nicholas were now husband and wife. There would be nothing wrong with sharing the same bed. She would be able to get some much needed rest and if he should need her she would be right there.

  Before she could change her mind, she drew the covers over Nicholas and went around to the other side of the bed. She slipped between the sheets. This time she lay awake for a long time, listening to her husband’s steady breathing, before finally falling asleep again.

  * * * * *

  Nicholas became aware of the warm body beside him. Louisa. Unlike other women who saturated themselves with heavy perfumes, her scent was clean. She was nestled against him, her back to his chest and her bottom snug against his manhood. His hand snaked around her abdomen, pulling her more closely against him. Her backside wiggled against him and he groaned.

  He placed his mouth on her shoulder and kissed his way to her neck. She made a small sound of encouragement and he trailed his hand up her torso, finally cupping her breast through the fabric of her nightgown. He continued to kiss her throat as he enjoyed the way the weight of her breast filled his hand. His fingers toyed with her nipple, drawing it into a tight bud.

  “Nicholas,” she breathed softly.

  His name on her lips inflamed him. He rolled her onto her back and stared down at her. Her pale hair spread across the pillow, framing a face that was flushed from sleep. Her gray eyes had darkened with passion. He traced the line of her full lower lip with his thumb.

  He was supposed to remember something about Louisa, but it lurked just out of reach. She brought her hands to his shoulders and arched against him, and he found he didn’t care about whatever it was he was supposed to remember.

  He kissed her then. He knew it was her first time with a man and that he had to go slowly, but he found the effort more than he could manage. Her mouth opened under his and he took the opportunity to plunder its depths. Her response was tentative at first, but it wasn’t long before she was meeting his kisses with her own impassioned response—long, drugging kisses that only stoked the fire of his desire higher.

  He rolled onto his back and draped her over him, taking advantage of the position to untie the ribbon at her neckline so he could push down her nightgown. When her breasts spilled free, he groaned and shifted her so he could take one rosy tip in his mouth. Louisa inhaled loudly in surprise, but her hands came to his head and she held him there, arching further into his mouth. He moved from one breast to the other, pushing her nightgown down further as he suckled. When it was past her hips, he rolled her onto her back again and dragged the garment from her body.

  His mouth left her breast and quested lower. She gasped when he stroked one hand up the inside of her thigh and stroked her between her legs. God, she was already wet. Nicholas fought against the urge to take her right then.

  When he moved lower, Louisa stiffened with surprise. One glance was enough to tell him that he had shocked her. Deciding she obviously wasn’t ready for what he had in mind, he kissed his way back up her body, stopping long enough to pay homage to her breasts again. They were not overly large, but neither were they small. The sounds she made as he drew on them drove him to the edge of sanity. He brought himself up over her completely and kissed her again, his passion a living thing. She instinctively opened her legs wider as he reached down to unbutton his breeches. They were married now and he didn’t have to worry about bearing a child out of wedlock. He had been with many other women in the past, but at that moment he could not remember any of their faces. There was only Louisa. He could sate himself within her fully and didn’t need to worry about pulling out. She had, after all, promised to give him an heir.

  He froze as his hand reached the last button. An heir. Good God, what was he doing? He couldn’t make love to Louisa and risk conceiving a child who would eventually develop the same illness that seemed to plague his family.

  Slowly, every fiber of his being protesting, he rolled away onto his back beside her and threw an arm over his eyes. He struggled to right his breathing.

  She made a sound of protest that echoed his own deep disappointment. Staying away from Louisa was going to kill him.

  She shifted position. Although he didn’t remove his arm, he knew she was looking at him.

  “Nicholas? Are you still not feeling well?”

  He laughed bitterly at the question. That was the understatement of the century. He tried to remember what had happened last night, but the details were vague. After sharing a drink with Louisa and sending her off to bed alone he wasn’t sure. A horrifying thought occurred to him. Was it too late? Had they already made love?

  He removed his arm and looked at his wife, who held the bedclothes clutched to her chest. Her forehead was creased with worry.

  “What happened?” he asked. Louisa blushed and he rushed to elaborate. “What happened last night? Did you and I…”

  She shook her head, her embarrassment clear.

  “You sent me up to bed.”

  He took a steadying breath before continuing.

  “Did I join you afterward? I had meant to allow you to rest.”

  Louisa studied him for a moment before replying. “You fell ill again. You managed to make your way to the room and wake me up.”

  So that explained why he was there.

  “And you decided to join me?”

  “You asked me not to leave,” she said, her voice soft. “And the bed looked far more comfortable than the chaise.”

  He couldn’t fault her for thinking it would be fine with him if they shared a bed. They were married, after all, and he had never even hinted to her that he didn’t want that kind of relationship with her.

  A corner of his mouth lifted in wry amusement. Who was he fooling? It was becoming clear to him that he very much wanted a physical relationship with his wife. He was still hard and knew he had to get away from her before the intimacy of the situation provoked him into continuing where they had left off.

  It was only then that he realized he was still dressed. If he had been thinking clearly earlier, he would have realized that nothing of consequence could have happened between them last night.

  Nothing of consequence. Except that she had watched over him twice now while he was ill. The episodes had never come this close together before.

  “Stay in bed,” Louisa said. “I will get dressed in my old room.” She frowned before continuing. “Would you like me to have a tray brought up for you?”

  It rankled that she was treating him like an invalid. Given the alarming frequency with which he collapsed in her presence he could scarcely blame her, but it rankled nonetheless.

  “I’ll
join you downstairs shortly,” he said before covering his eyes with his arm again.

  He heard a rustle of movement before she slid out of bed and went to the wardrobe. He shifted his arm slightly and was disappointed that she’d donned her nightgown again before leaving the bed. Sunlight streamed through the window and she was standing within its circle of light, unaware that the outline of her body was visible through the thin, gauzy material.

  Groaning softly, he covered his eyes again and listened for her departure. He wasn’t sure he was strong enough to stay away from his wife.

  * * * * *

  She couldn’t get used to having servants in the cottage. Only her new lady’s maid and Nicholas’s valet had spent the night, but one of the kitchen staff from Overlea Manor had arrived early that morning to cook breakfast and a footman was stationed by the dining room door. After preparing her plate from a sideboard that had never seen so much food, Louisa dismissed the footman and sat at the table. It had only been a day, but with all the changes in the cottage it no longer seemed like home.

  She gave herself a mental shake at her sentimentality. The changes were probably a good thing. She needed to accept that Overlea Manor was now her home.

  She had just poured her tea when Nicholas entered. He murmured a greeting and went to the sideboard to prepare his own plate. He wouldn’t appreciate her hovering over him, but she couldn’t keep her eyes from following his movements in case he should need her assistance.

  Her attempts to make conversation during breakfast were met with monosyllabic responses. She wondered if she’d done something wrong but quickly discarded the thought. She hadn’t known him long, but she already knew Nicholas wasn’t the kind of man to display any signs of weakness. The fact that she had now seen him fall ill twice would bother him more than a little.

  She gave up on engaging him in conversation, so was surprised when he turned to her after clearing his plate.

  “The guests who spent the night should be departing after breakfast. Given how late some will sleep, I think we can avoid most of them if we depart midafternoon.”

  Louisa murmured her agreement and watched as he pushed away from the table and strode from the room. The feeling she’d had that her husband was hiding something from her, something other than his illness, had returned in full force. If she didn’t know better, she’d think Nicholas was uncomfortable around her.

  Chapter Ten

  Nicholas was grateful for two things. First, that the drive back to Overlea Manor was a short one, and second, that he’d chosen to drive his curricle last night. The latter meant he could concentrate on the task of handling the horses instead of finding himself in the far more intimate setting of the Overlea carriage with his wife. He was still almost painfully aware of her, especially after what had nearly happened that morning, but he wasn’t in a position to do anything foolish.

  He realized now that he had been an idiot to ask Louisa to be his wife. Perhaps he should have proposed to Mary after all. But no, he discarded that thought almost as soon as it occurred to him. Mary might be meek, but she never would have agreed to the arrangement he had in mind and would have wasted no time telling her mother and brother about it.

  He tried to imagine other alternatives, but in the end he knew Louisa had been his only choice. Her lack of parents, the fact that she had two younger siblings to care for, her desperate situation—all combined to present him with the one woman he knew would agree to the proposition he was about to put to her.

  He glanced at her, but her face was turned away. His mind shied away from any thought that he was treating her as shabbily as his cousin. However, remembering the hurt confusion he had seen on her face when he’d rebuffed her attempts at conversation over breakfast made him feel like a bastard who’d kicked a wounded puppy.

  He went over their upcoming conversation in his mind. The conversation he’d had with Kerrick was nothing compared to the one he was going to have with his wife later that day. He knew that soon enough she would hate him, and he would be unable to blame her.

  He breathed a sigh of relief when the curricle finally approached the manor house. He’d sent his valet and her maid back to Overlea Manor that morning with a message about when they’d be returning, but it was still a surprise when his grandmother met them in the front hall.

  “I’m glad the two of you are back so soon. We need to speak with you,” she said before turning and entering the drawing room.

  He met Louisa’s bewildered gaze.

  “Do you know what this is about?” she asked.

  For a moment he suspected his grandmother had somehow learned about his plan for an heir. The only other person who knew, however, was Kerrick, and his friend wouldn’t have told her.

  He shook his head. “No.”

  Looking a little nervous, she went into the drawing room and Nicholas followed. Catherine was already there, sitting on the settee, and she looked miserable. Lady Overlea sat in a chair, opposite her, but she remained silent.

  “Catherine?” Louisa went to her sister and lowered herself onto the settee next to her. “What happened? Why are you so upset?”

  Nicholas remained standing by the door, hesitant to intrude.

  Catherine raised her head. The deep breath she took before replying was shaky. “I’m so sorry, Louisa. I tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen to me. We argued about it. Your friend,” she said, turning to look at Nicholas, “he saw us, but he didn’t know why we were arguing.”

  “Are you talking about John?” Louisa asked.

  Catherine nodded and held out a small, folded piece of paper he hadn’t noticed she’d been holding in her lap. Louisa took it, bewildered. She unfolded it, her hands trembling, and began to read. Nicholas moved behind the settee and read the note over her shoulder.

  Louisa,

  Now that you have married Overlea, it wouldn’t be appropriate for me seek employment as a tutor. Fortunately, I remembered about Father’s old friend, Captain Farrows. I believe he is in London now, or he was when he sent his condolences a few months ago after hearing about Father’s death. I know we’d decided not to take him up on his offer of charity, but now that you and Catherine are taken care of, I need to make my own way in the world. I plan to approach him about sponsoring me in purchasing a commission in the military.

  My mind will not be changed. You have chosen your own path. Please allow me to do the same.

  John

  “No,” Louisa said, shaking her head as she stared down at the paper and reread it. “He can’t do this. He’s supposed to go to Oxford.” She turned to Catherine. “When did he leave? We might be able to stop him.”

  Catherine shook her head. “He left last night, shortly after we noticed you and Overlea were missing. He asked one of the guests who didn’t stay over if he could join them when they returned to London.”

  Louisa stood and moved around the settee to where he was standing.

  “You can stop this,” she said to him. “You must stop this. You can send someone to follow him. He’ll be with Captain Farrows. I can give you his direction—”

  Nicholas reached for her hands, which were clutching the note, and stilled their trembling. He took the note and handed it back to Catherine before turning back to Louisa.

  He said the words he knew she wouldn’t want to hear. “He is old enough to make this decision. We can’t force him to do what he doesn’t want to do.”

  She made a strangled sound and Nicholas had to resist the urge to pull her into his arms.

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “He wanted to go to Oxford. To enter the clergy.”

  “That may have been true at one point, but no longer.”

  “His mind was made up,” Catherine said. “I threatened to tell you, but it was no good. He said there was nothing you could say or do that would make him change his mind, and I didn’t want to ruin your wedding night.”

  “You did the right thing,” Lady Overlea said, speaking for the first t
ime since they’d entered the room. “Nothing would have been gained, and John would still have left, only he would have done so on bad terms with you and Louisa.”

  “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Louisa said. “We had it all planned out.”

  “Things don’t always go according to plan,” Nicholas said, speaking from his own cynical knowledge of just how off course one’s life could go.

  Needing to offer her comfort, he raised her hands to his lips and brushed soft kisses on their backs. His eyes locked with hers and the power of her mournful gaze went right through him. Shaken, he dropped her hands as though he’d been burned.

  “My head tells me you’re right, but my heart…” She shook her head, unable to continue for several moments. “I need to be alone right now.”

  Nicholas watched her leave, yearning to go after her but knowing he couldn’t do so.

  “You did the right thing,” he said, turning to Catherine.

  The corners of her mouth lifted a fraction in response, but the weak smile didn’t meet her eyes.

  He left the room then, knowing that Grandmother would do what she could to comfort Catherine, and made his way to the study. Going over the account books for the estate was the very last thing he wanted to do at that moment, but the job had to be done. The tedium of the task would also help to take his mind off his wife and the mess that was his life for the afternoon.

  Nicholas sat down at his desk and opened the estate ledgers. It would take him the rest of the day to wade through the accounts, a task he always hated. He ignored the headache that was starting to pound at his temples, knowing it to be an aftereffect of the episode he had suffered the previous night.

  It was an hour later when a knock sounded at the door. Without waiting for his reply, Kerrick entered. Normally Nicholas wouldn’t have minded the interruption, but the cursed throbbing in his head always made him irritable, to say nothing of the reminder about why Kerrick hadn’t returned to London with the rest of the guests.