Thanks to Freddy, she knew her first night as a wife should have entailed far more than what had just occurred between them. But she was also painfully aware she needed to find her footing in this wilderness she was about to inhabit.
She swept from his chamber with as much grace as she could manage.
Just before the door latched behind her, she heard the unmistakable rumble of his voice.
“I bid you good evening as well, Leonora.”
The sound of his deep, delicious voice saying her name haunted her all night long.
Chapter Four
“Dearest Leonora!”
Leonora smiled as she embraced her best friend back with just as much, unladylike exuberance. “Freddy!”
With the sudden wedding preparations on Leonora’s part, and Freddy’s own new marriage to keep her distracted, too much time had passed since they had been afforded the opportunity to chat alone. Freddy sounded and looked so pleased, happiness nearly radiating from her as Leonora took a step back. The salon her friend had turned into a writing area was cheerful and bold, and situated perfectly so the sun poured in through the bounty of windows on an opposite wall.
“Or shall I call you Marchioness now?” Freddy asked, grinning slyly. “You do look different, darling.”
If misery had a look and it could be described asdifferent, that would explain her friend’s comment. Because one sennight into her marriage, Leonora had made a hideous, previously uncontemplated discovery; relieving herself of her spinster status and marrying an eligiblepartihad not fulfilled her as she had hoped it might.
Instead, it had left her confused, empty, and alone.
Contrary to her urging on their wedding night for them to begin again the next day, the following morning had dawned upon a Searle as cold and flatly emotionless as ever. He spoke few words to her. He breakfasted before she was awake and spent dinners at his club. His gaze was intense, but his moods impossible.
Most evenings, he did not return until she was already abed. Each night without fail, she heard him entering his chamber in the late hours of the morning, his heavy footfalls treading to the door adjoining their chambers. In the cool darkness, she waited as the portal opened and he stood there for an indeterminate span of time before closing it once more.
But she could not possibly share all that with her blissfully happy, utterly in love friend before they had even settled to take their tea. Leonora exhaled on a sigh, not wishing to unburden herself just yet. Perhaps not even at all. Freddy was like a summer breeze, shining and warm and abundant and sweet-scented. Leonora felt, in contrast, like a rasping, ravaging winter’s wind, the sort that sucked all the moisture from one’s lips and stung one’s cheeks.
“I feel different,” she offered with a noncommittal shrug. “But tell me about you, Freddy. It has been far, far too long.”
Her friend pinned her with a shrewd, assessing look. “You look as if you have just slid your foot into your slipper and found it filled with treacle.”
Had she been in a lighter mood, Leonora would have laughed at Freddy’s witty observation. As it stood, her emotions hovered somewhere in the brackish vicinity between spontaneous laughter and a hideous bout of sniveling tears.
So, she forced a smile. “There is no treacle in my slipper, I assure you.”
If there had been, it would have been a less trifling matter than the realization she had married a complete stranger, and that obtaining a husband felt rather like being gifted a prettily decorated box only to find it empty inside.
“And now you rather resemble a lady who has found dog offal in her slipper instead,” Freddy countered, arching one dark brow as if to say she was not fooled by Leonora’s reassurances.
“You are certainly laden with similitudes today, Freddy,” she observed instead of responding to either of her friend’s discreet inquiries into her wellbeing. “You look different as well. Radiant and happy, just as you deserve.”
It was true, for her friend was a vibrant beauty on ordinary days. Today, however, she seemed to somehow shimmer with radiance. Perhaps it was her contentment. Perhaps love had softened her. Leonora still knew a pang in her heart whenever she thought of the manner in which Freddy and Mr. Kirkwood had gazed upon each other at their ball.
Had she truly been foolish enough to believe procuring herself a husband would provide her that same sense of comfort and joy? What a ninny she had been.
“Thank you.” Freddy’s smile turned secretive as her hand settled over her abdomen. “It is early, but I do think I may know the reason.”
A riot of sensation burst inside her chest. Elation for Freddy. Longing for herself. Despair that the same thrilling announcement may never emerge from her own lips. Fear of what her life would mean, stretching before her, childless, with a husband who viewed her as a responsibility and nothing more.
“Oh, Freddy.” This time, the smile on her mouth was not forced, for she wanted nothing but joy for her friend. “Are youenceinte?”
Freddy nodded, her eyes glistening with the hint of unshed tears. “I am. You shall be an auntie, and it is my greatest hope that you will soon have similar news for me. Our children could take their first steps together. Only think of how wonderful it would be. Is that the reason for your long face, Leonora? I know how very much you want babes of your own. But you have been married for only a week. It would be too soon for such a happy event to occur.”
“It would also be too soon for a happy event to occur when a marriage has yet to be consummated,” she observed dryly before she could think better of uttering confirmation of Freddy’s fear she was unhappy.
Freddy’s brows rose, her expression turning grave. “Pardon, dearest. I believe I misheard you. Of course you have…that is to say, you enjoyed a wedding night with Searle. Did you not?”
