This was the day after his wedding day. He should be in a state of ecstasy. He should be with his wife, inseparable from her during the days of their honeymoon. He had made such a disaster of the whole business. He loved Georgiana. He wanted to be with her, beginning a friendship with her. They were still virtual strangers. These days at Chartleigh should give them the perfect opportunity. But within a day of their marriage he had given her every reason to despise, even hate him. It said a great deal for the sweetness of her character that she had agreed to ride with him that morning and had behaved with such courtesy toward him.
He had made dreadful ruin of their wedding night. He felt hot with embarrassment and humiliation at the memory. He had been unable to quieten her fears, unable to control his own desire long enough for her to relax in his arms and be ready for his invasion, and finally incapable of consummating the marriage. And he had left her like a small boy in disgrace, to hide his head in shame, instead of waiting until they were both ready to proceed. He hated to imagine the kind of distress in which he must have left Georgiana.
He was a man, in years anyway. And he had begun recently to feel confident in his own maturity and ability to run his life as he saw fit. Yet in this one area of his life he seemed quite incapable of acting like a man. His main responsibility the night before had been to reassure a shy and frightened bride, to make her his wife while giving her as little pain as possible. And he had failed miserably. There was little point, he supposed, in going over the facts yet again. He had thought of nothing else during the long night, which he had spent out-of-doors wandering around he knew not where. But he had still not come to any conclusions. What was to be done about the situation?
He had never really wanted any woman before, except perhaps that little barmaid for a few mad minutes. But he wanted Georgiana. He was thoroughly enchanted with her. Much of the time she seemed so shy that he wanted to fold her in his arms and protect her from all the threats of the world. But there were surprising little flashes of spirit that made him think that there was a very interesting character behind the shyness. He wanted to get to know that character and help her to develop it. And there was occasionally a directness about her that he found surprising. This morning, for example, she had not said whether she disapproved of his strange theories on estate management. But she had quite skillfully drawn from him an admission that he was satisfied with his own ideas, unconventional though they were. She had made him feel good about himself. She could be a good friend, he suspected.
Perhaps he could still cultivate her friendship. Perhaps it was not too late for that. She had been willing to ride and walk with him and had not avoided talking to him. But he had to admit that his desire for her went beyond the need for friendship. He felt a sexual desire for her. Her small, light figure made him feel protective and excited him. Yet she had a shapely body. Ralph's cheeks grew hot at the memory of her breasts pressing against his chest, her thighs soft against his. He could remember, though with some humiliation, how small and feminine she had felt beneath him on the bed.
He wanted her. He wanted to go to her again that night and make love to her in a manner that would erase her fears and perhaps bring pleasure to her as well as to himself. He wanted to be fully married to Georgiana. He wanted to put his seed inside her.
But he dared not. He had decided that the night before. He could not go to her tonight and risk the same outcome. He would not do that to her. He remembered unwillingly just how very frightened she had been, prattling away to him in bed, yet obviously not knowing what she said. And it was so out of character for Georgiana to prattle. He wondered if she was blaming herself for what had happened. Perhaps she thought she was not desirable enough to attract him. His behavior must have gone a long way to destroy any confidence in herself that she might have. If he repeated the failure tonight, he might destroy entirely her faith in her own femininity.
And he had hurt her. Ralph closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the cool pane of the window. God, he had hurt her. She had cried out to him that he was hurting her. He shuddered. Poor little girl! She deserved so much better. She deserved a husband who could at least make love to her without hurting her.
He had decided the night before that he must try to win her trust and her friendship. Perhaps in time, when they grew accustomed to each other, when they came to like each other, and to be relaxed in each other's presence, their relationship could take on a physical dimension. He would not hesitate to touch her: hold her hand sometimes, touch her cheek, even kiss her—that brief kiss this morning had been achingly sweet. But he would not rush her into deeper intimacies. Those would come when they were both ready for them—he hoped! He dreaded to think of what would happen if he found himself forever incapable of being a man for her.
Georgiana came bouncing into the house an hour later looking anything but the shy, homesick girl that Ralph pictured to himself. She threw her bonnet and gloves in the general direction of an oak chest that stood in the hallway, called to the butler to ask where his lordship was and strode toward the library, calling over her shoulder for Gloria to follow her. She threw open the door to the library before the butler could scurry across the hallway to perform the honors for her.
"Ralph," she said as soon as she saw that he was indeed in the room. He was seated in a deep leather chair beside the fireplace, reading. "Such an afternoon! We met three of our neighbors: a Mrs. Horsley and her daughter and Lady Quentin. Gloria presented me and they declared their intention of calling on me tomorrow. They would have come today, they said, but they thought that perhaps we needed a day to rest after our journey from London. Was not that foolish? And we went into the milliner's shop, where there was a chip bonnet that looks just perfect on Gloria, but she would not buy it because she said she does not need more bonnets. You must persuade her to purchase it, Ralph. It was just made for her. The vicar's housekeeper made us some tea when we called. And you did not tell me that Gloria and the Reverend Boscome are betrothed. I was never more surprised in my life, especially to know that they have been betrothed for six years." She paused for breath.
Ralph had jumped up in surprise when his wife first entered the room without a knock or a footman to announce her arrival. He watched her and listened with growing enchantment as she spoke. Her face was alight, her eyes sparkling and her cheeks flushed from the walk. He was smiling by the time she paused.
"You seem to have enjoyed your afternoon," he said. "Hello, Gloria. Does that betrothal still exist, by the way? I thought it had been forgotten about a long time ago. I have heard no mention of it."
"It still exists, Ralph," his sister replied gravely. "It is just that with Papa dying last year and Mama being left alone while you were at university, it did not seem appropriate to talk about nuptials."
"But that is absurd now, is it not, Ralph?" Georgiana said, turning to him in appeal. "I have been telling Gloria so all the way home. Why, if we can get married little more than a year after the death of your papa, there is nothing improper about her and the Reverend Boscome doing the same. And it has been six years, Ralph! Why, Gloria will be too old to bear children if she waits any longer."
Both brother and sister flushed. Gloria looked away and busied herself with folding her shawl.
"Perhaps that is for Boscome and Gloria to decide," Ralph said gently.
"Yes," Georgiana persisted, "but they have wanted to marry these six years past. It is your mama who has always found reason to put off the wedding. That is not really fair, is it, Ralph?"
Ralph put down his book and took his wife by the elbow. "Let us go upstairs to the drawing room for tea," he said. "You must be thirsty after your walk. If Mama has advised Gloria to wait, dear, I am sure she has a good reason."
"But six years, Ralph!" Georgiana trotted along beside him as he led her across the hall and up the stairs. Gloria came quietly behind them. "You could permit them to marry. You are the head of the family. The Reverend Boscome is almost old already."
"Only four-and-thirty, Georgiana," Gloria protested from behind her.
"He will be too old to romp with his children if he does not have them very soon," Georgiana said severely, preceding her husband into the drawing room. She appeared not to have noticed the embarrassment of her companions at her earlier mention of children.
"Just a cup of tea for me, Ralph," Gloria said. "We ate at the vicarage, and I am not hungry."
"Me either," Georgiana said absently: "Ralph, I have had a famous notion. Do let us give a dinner party for your neighbors. We could have cards and music afterward, and perhaps even some charades or dancing. This room would be quite splendid for the dancing if the carpet were rolled up. It is big enough, and I would not think there are a great many people to invite, are there? Oh, do let's, Ralph. I have never had a chance to have my very own evening party before." She was almost dancing around the room, viewing its possibilities from various angles.
Ralph looked inquiringly at his sister and then smiled warmly at his wife. "I cannot think of a better way of introducing my countess to the neighborhood," he said. "It is many years since Chartleigh was used for parties. Papa used to have hunt dinners, but the guests were almost exclusively male."
Georgiana clapped her hands. "Oh, splendid!" she said. "We shall have such fun. I shall go right now to confer with the cook on the menu. You must tell me how to reach the kitchen, Ralph."
His smile had turned to a grin. "I think Cook might have an apoplexy if you rushed at her with such a proposition at the moment," he said. "Cook is a very excitable person, and I am sure that at this time of day she is very busy preparing our dinner. Perhaps later tonight, Georgiana, or tomorrow morning? I shall take you down myself and introduce you to her. She is an old friend of mine."
Georgiana had stopped bouncing around. She came to sit demurely in a chair across from her husband's. "Oh, very well," she said. "I shall wait. Though it is very provoking to have to do so when one's mind is once set on something. I suppose the cook also fed you shamelessly between meals when you were a child. I believe you must have had all the servants wrapped around your little finger, Ralph."
He looked sheepish. "I was such a puny little boy, you see," he said. "Everyone thought I needed fattening up. Georgiana, are you sure you are up to giving a party? You will be expected to entertain a large number of people and will be very much on display. No one will expect such an event from a new bride. Would it be better to wait until we return to London, when Mama can help you and perhaps be official hostess?"
Georgiana stared at him. "What nonsense!" she said. "What is so difficult about conversing with a dozen or so people who are no different from you and me? I do not need to shelter behind your mama or anyone else, Ralph."
