Read Despised & Desired: The Marquess' Passionate Wife Page 21


  A mere hour ago, he had finally worked up the nerve to seek out his wife in her bedchamber. The decision had not been easy. However, he had always known that he could not leave his existence here at Elmridge behind without providing an heir to continue his family’s line first. He knew his duty, and he had acted upon it. After all, he had shared his wife’s bed before without it leading to further complications.

  Only tonight, things had been different. She had been different.

  Closing his eyes, Frederick once more felt her soft body beneath his, her gentle hands caressing his face, sliding up and under his shirt. He remembered the shock that had gone through him when her fingers had first touched his skin. Disbelief had clouded his mind then, and for a moment, he had thought himself lost in a dream. Then her soft lips had startled him awake, and although he had known that it was more than just foolish to allow her to continue, he had not been able to stop himself, let alone her. Instead, a deep desire, buried under layers of pain and guilt, had fought to the surface and claimed him whole.

  His body had taken over then, devouring her with a hunger he had long since thought lost, and with each kiss, with each caress, the veil of detachment he had draped upon his shoulders had slid off, falling to the ground in a crumpled heap, all but useless. Unguarded, his heart had opened to her, to the soft whispers of her soul as her gentle fingers found the marks on his body. The story she had read there had echoed between them, guiding his own hands to the pain of her past in return. Feeling the scarred tissue of her neck beneath his fingers, he had sensed the pain that had been hers that fateful day long ago, and just as her touch had healed his pain, his own hands had moved over her skin with the same compassion and understanding that she had shown him.

  He remembered her lips curling against his in a gentle smile as his fingers had touched the place of her shattered life. He remembered her heart beating against his chest, his own abandoning its own rhythm and joining hers. He remembered thinking that he loved her.

  That thought had jolted him awake, terrified him to his very core, and he had fled her room like the coward he knew himself to be.

  Cringing at the memory, Frederick rubbed his hands over his face. What kind of a man shared his wife’s bed, took her body and then rushed from the room like a common criminal?

  When his demons had risen to the surface, he had not even looked back at her before closing the door separating their rooms. Now lying in the cold dark, he wondered if her face had held the same disappointment and hurt he still felt in his own heart. And yet, the warmth from her body still clung to his skin, sending shivers up and down his back, and his lips tingled with the need to feel hers once again. His body ached with the need to feel her, and his soul felt all but hollow at the absence of her touch.

  How was it that she could tear down his defences so easily? What was her secret?

  Deep down, his soul recognised hers, and yet, his mind could not remember the hot summer’s day years ago when his defences had been non-existent, and her curious eyes had seen into his heart with no difficulty.

  ***

  A deep smile on her face, Ellie lay in bed amidst her crumpled sheets, remembering Maryann’s words. To describe her recent experience as enjoyable would be an enormous understatement, and a giggle rose from her lips as she remembered the blush that had come to her friend’s cheeks upon her rather inquisitive questions.

  If she had known the sensations her body was capable of experiencing, Ellie would have demanded her marital rights a long time ago. Still, it was easy to speak in retrospect. After all, before tonight she had not known how Frederick would react to her touch. She had not known that he would respond so eagerly, and neither had she known that he would not in the least be appalled by her scars.

  Snuggling into her blanket, Ellie remembered how his fingers had traced the marks the fire had left on her skin. Goosebumps had risen all over her body, and she had held her breath, only exhaling when his own explorations of her body had continued without any sign of delay or hesitation after what his nimble fingers had discovered.

  Her scars were a part of her as his were a part of him, and although she wished she could take the pain and guilt off his shoulders, she knew he would not be the man he was without the experiences that had formed him.

  Grinning, Ellie bit her lip, wondering if Frederick lay awake in his own bed as well. Was he also staring into the dark, remembering her touch on his skin? Did shivers run down his body at the thought of her lips on his?

  Even at the memory, Ellie’s heart thudded in her chest, quickening its pace as her thoughts travelled to the regions of his body that had brought her such pleasure. Her fingers ached to touch him again, and she had to fight herself to remain where she was and not tiptoe across the room, open the door and seek him out.

  Ellie giggled at the shocked expression that would undoubtedly come to his face should she dare to do so.

  Without warning, a hint of disappointment sneaked into her heart as she remembered how he had fled the room immediately after their love-making. And yet, she should have expected his reaction, she reminded herself. After all, her own surprise at what had happened could be nowhere near as great as his had to have been.

  He needed time, and she would be patient; however, she would not wait forever.

  Whether he liked it or not, she knew now what he could give her as well as what she could give him. And if fear should keep him away once more, then, by God, next time, she would be brave enough to seek him out instead.

  Snuggling into the blanket, Ellie closed her eyes, a smile on her lips, and was soon fast asleep. In her dreams, she pictured the moment they would first lay eyes upon each other after what had happened between them.

  Chapter Thirty-One − Vulnerable

  As she descended the large staircase on her way to the breakfast parlour, Ellie felt her heart hammer against her ribcage, her hands trembled, and her breathing was far too rapid for someone who had only just risen from her bed. Even Betty had noticed her rather odd behaviour. Like a fool, Ellie had twirled a strand of her hair around her index finger, a wide smile on her face that seemed somewhat inscrutable. Although she had seen the slightly amused grin on her maid’s face in the mirror, Ellie had not been able to persuade the corners of her mouth to return from the peeks they had risen to. Only now, when she was but a few steps away from meeting her husband in the light of day did the smile slide off her face, replaced by a rather strained expression that Ellie knew spoke of her nerves stretched to the limit.

  On shaky feet, she proceeded down the corridor. Then before stepping into the breakfast parlour, she took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves and willing her body to stop trembling. Was Frederick equally nervous about meeting her? About looking into her eyes after what had happened in the dark of her bedchamber?

  Ellie only hoped that he would not treat her with indifference or worse polite detachment.

  Arriving somewhat late, Ellie found the rest of the family already seated around the large table. The brilliant sun shone in through the tall windows, sending shimmering lights all over the room and sparkling in the polished silverware neatly laid down on each place setting. Smiling faces turned to her, a friendly greeting on their lips. Ellie, however, could scarcely pay them any attention as her eyes were drawn to the dark man at the head of the table.

  As he beheld her, the teacup in his hand froze halfway to his lips, and his eyes met hers with an intensity that sent a shiver down her back and made her heart jump in her chest. Taking a deep breath, Ellie rounded the table, only vaguely aware of her lips mumbling a greeting to the rest of her new family. Her eyes, however, could not be forced to leave his, and as she sank down onto her chair, the butterflies in her belly fluttered about like never before.

  Frederick cleared his throat, his gaze returning to the plate before him, a hint of unease tugging at the corners of his mouth.

  Instantly, Ellie felt as though cast into the shadows, missing the light that shone in his e
yes like the flowers missed the sun in the dark of night. Fortunately, she did not have to suffer for long as his gaze quickly returned to hers as though of its own accord. Although she could see the reluctance on his face, he could not keep his gaze from meeting hers, gliding from her eyes to her lips and further down, lingering in all the places that he had explored the night before.

  Feeling her heart quicken, Ellie bit her lower lip as a tingling heat rose to her cheeks.

  The ghost of a smile flashed over Frederick’s face at seeing her reaction before he averted his eyes once more, distress clouding the joy that had played on his features only a moment before.

  Ellie took a deep breath, glancing at the others seated nearby, too close for her liking as the atmosphere between her and her husband seemed suddenly charged with desire barely hidden underneath their polite exterior.

  If at all.

  Turning her head to look at Maryann and Theresa, Ellie tried to determine whether or not they had noticed the silent exchange between them. Both, however, were absorbed in conversation with each other and at least at the moment paid her little attention.

  Relieved, Ellie returned her eyes to her husband.

  Although he did his utmost to appear disinterested, as though her presence did not affect him in the least, his eyes would venture to hers again and again betraying the lie that he wanted her to believe.

  Delighted with his inability to hide his feelings, Ellie smiled at him, her heart beating in her chest with such joy that she felt it would burst. She openly met his eyes then, sharing the depth of her own feelings without restraint, letting him see the place he held in her heart.

  Drawing in a deep breath, Frederick swallowed, and she could see his understanding of what she had just revealed to him in his eyes.

  Stunned, he stared at her, and Ellie could not help but wonder what thoughts went through his head at that moment. Was it so difficult for him to believe that she cared for him? Deeply? Could he not imagine that the scars and tears they had shared would bring them closer?

  “Frederick?” Theresa called, and he blinked, clearing his throat. “Frederick, are you listening to me?”

  Taking a deep breath, he turned to his mother, his eyelids blinking rapidly as though trying to clear the images still lingering in his mind. “Yes, Mother, what…? I apologise. I was…lost in thought.”

  The slightly tense expression on Theresa’s face vanished, and she smiled at him before her eyes darted to Ellie for a split second. “I merely wondered,” she asked, her voice strained, “whether or not you intended to attend this year’s Midnight Ball?”

  Ellie froze as the mention of Lord Branston’s annual event brought back the memories of Leopold’s death. Eyes darting to Maryann, Ellie found her gaze fixed on her plate, hands hidden in her lap. Instantly, her heart went out to her new sister-in-law, and she felt the almost desperate need to comfort her. Glancing at Frederick, Ellie could not imagine how his death would affect her. It was the worst fate possible.

  “I am not certain,” Frederick answered his mother’s question, his own voice tinged with regret. “Do you wish to attend?” His eyes shifted from his mother’s to Maryann’s face.

  Leopold’s widow sighed before lifting her tear-heavy eyes off the remnants on her plate. Her gaze went around the table, lingering on all of them as though asking for advice, as though seeking an answer to a question she had not wanted asked in the first place. She took a deep breath then and licked her lips, but no sound could be heard.

  Theresa reached out then, her hand closing around Maryann’s. “It is all right, Dear.” Her voice betrayed the same grief visible on her daughter-in-law’s face. “There is no rush. The ball is still a few weeks away. I am certain Lord Branston will not hold it against us if we delay our answer.”

  Maryann nodded, a hint of relief playing on her beautiful features.

  After breakfast, Frederick retreated to his study, and Ellie’s eyes followed his tall form all the way down the corridor until he disappeared from sight. Tempted to go after him, she took a hesitant step forward.

  “Elsbeth, do you have a moment?” Theresa asked, coming up behind her.

  For a second, Ellie closed her eyes, reluctantly letting go of the delightful tingle that had settled over her at the thought of spending time alone with her husband. Compelling her features into a friendly smile, she turned to her mother-in-law. “Certainly. Is something wrong?”

  “Come, walk with me,” Theresa said, slipping her arm through hers. They went out the side door and into the gardens where the early sun glistened in the morning dew droplets still clinging to the hedges. “I meant to ask your advice. It is about Maryann.”

  “Is it about the Midnight Ball?” Ellie asked, feeling a sense of unease crawl up her back. Although she had not known him, the night of Leopold’s death was etched into her mind. How hard was it for his mother and wife to return to a place where they had lost someone so dear to their hearts? A place that would not mourn his passing but celebrate life instead? Would they be able to bear that?

  Theresa nodded. “It has almost been a year since Leopold was taken from us, and,” she took a deep breath, her voice heavy with tears held in check, “a part of me believes that it is time for Maryann to move on.”

  Ellie stopped, her eyes searching her mother-in-law’s face. “Do you truly believe that she ought to find a new husband so soon?”

  Theresa shook her head. “I am not talking about a husband. I simply think that after a year of mourning Maryann needs to be reminded that life still holds beauty and joy.” She took a deep breath and sank onto the bench, and Ellie sat down beside her.

  “I am an old woman, and I have lived a wonderful life. Of course, I wish I hadn’t seen the death of my son, but I take comfort from knowing that I will see him again soon.” A delicate smile curled up the corners of her mouth, and Ellie took Theresa’s hand in hers. “But Maryann is young. Who knows what life still has in store for her? And I am so glad that she has found her smile again, her laughter and the joy of being with her family.”

  Theresa gently squeezed Ellie’s hand. “I am so grateful that you have come to us,” she whispered, and Ellie felt the heat of embarrassment touch her cheeks. “You have healed this family in a way I never thought possible. I see it every day when I look at Mathilda and Maryann. I feel it in my own heart, and lately, I’ve seen it in my son as well.” Ellie’s heart stopped, and a hopeful smile touched her lips. “Do not give up, dear child,” Theresa whispered, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “He is as mule-headed as his father, but his heart is in the right place. He wants to love you. I saw it in his eyes this morning.”

  An excited shiver went over Ellie as she remembered the veiled desire she had seen in his gaze. The struggle she had seen there proved Theresa’s words to be true.

  “He is afraid though,” her mother-in-law continued. “More afraid than he ever was in his life. Allowing yourself to love, to be vulnerable is a great risk, and after everything he has lost within the last two years, he is hesitant. Do not give up on him.”

  Smiling at Theresa, Ellie tightened her hold on her hands. “I won’t.”

  “Good,” her mother-in-law said. “Now, about Maryann: do you think it would be too early to persuade her to go out into society again? I do not wish to push her too soon, but I know that she will need some convincing, or she will spend the rest of her life locked away on this estate.”

  Ellie shrugged. “I am not sure. Maybe it is not too early in general, but maybe the Midnight Ball is the wrong occasion. It is bound to bring back memories of Leopold’s death. How could anyone expect her to be in good spirits when faced with the memory of her husband’s death?”

  “You’re right,” Theresa nodded. “But you do agree that she ought to go out among people again, do you not?”

  “I do, yes.”

  “Good. Then we’ll just have to find an occasion that will allow her to forget her sadness for a night and be the young woman that she is.


  A smile on her face, Ellie nodded.

  Chapter Thirty-Two − Desire

  Standing before the window, Frederick stared past the water fountain at the two women seated on the bench while the stack of paperwork on his desk remained as it was. What were they talking about? He wondered.

  Again and again, he dragged his eyes from the window and forced his feet to carry him across the room, and yet, before long he would always find himself back in this very spot, staring at his wife. It was as though she had cast a spell on him, drawing his thoughts to her despite his efforts to focus on something else.

  Rubbing his hands over his face, he began to pace the length of the room.

  In his mind’s eye, he once more saw her radiant smile as her gaze had met his over breakfast, the memory of the previous night edged into them. Heat had flared up in his veins, and the breath had caught in his throat. As she had bitten her lower lip, he had almost lost control, the desperate need to touch her coursing through his veins.

  What had he done? How could he have been so careless? Not only had he gone to her bed, but he had also allowed her touch to tear down the walls he had so painstakingly erected around himself. And now, he was not only risking his own heart, but hers as well.

  Despite his daftness when it came to matters of the heart, Frederick could not have over-looked the love and desire that had shone in her eyes that morning. He knew that she cared for him, that she might even love him, and that thought terrified him more than anything else.

  Once he left, she would be the one to suffer. Instead of protecting her, he had placed her in harm’s way. How could he have been so careless?

  His jaw firmly set, he glanced outside at the by now empty bench, determined to protect her, even if it meant from himself. Never again would he share her bed; it was too great a risk.

  As an almost painful sense of regret flooded his heart at the mere thought of never feeling her soft skin under his hands again, a rather obnoxious voice whispered in his head, reminding him of the yet unresolved issue of an heir.