He tutted. “I do have a few volumes other than erotic texts.”
“Of use to a man on his wedding night?” she queried naughtily.
They took their position for the waltz. “If you remember our weddingnight,” he said, “you will admit that a manual of clever moves would havebeen irrelevant.”
Eleanor knew what he meant. Frightened by a series of strange eventsand by dim memories of a drugged rape, what she had needed, and found, wassensitivity and kindness.
“Are there books to teach magic of the heart?” she asked.
The music started and they began the twirling dance. “The Bible?” hesuggested with a slight smile. “The Koran. The Veda. The AbhidhammaPitaka. The Bhagavad-Gita ...”
“You are trying to make me feel my ignorance,” she said without rancor.“But I can at least guess that they are all books of religion. Are yousaying you gave these to Lucien?”
“I wish I had thought of it,” he said with a laugh. “In fact, I gavehim Mary Wollstonecraft.”
“You expect them to spend tonight debating the rights of women?” sheasked skeptically.
“I think it would be a very good thing,” he replied. “But having a mindabove this prurient interest in other people’s beds . . .” He drew herslowly closer, until they were joined together in a way that was quiteimproper. Fortunately by then he had also migrated them out of the roominto a quiet corridor.
Eleanor was ready for his lips when he kissed her. She could feel thefamiliar aching melting, the longing for home, for Nicholas. She clung tohim. “I’m trying to imagine,” she whispered when the kiss ended, “what itwould have been like if it had been like this on our wedding night. Thishunger. And the knowledge that it would soon be satisfied to thefull.”
One sensitive finger played knowingly at the base of her skull, sendinga shudder through her. “I wonder if a wedding night is ever like that,” hesaid. “A knowledgeable wedding night seems to be a contradiction interms.” He sighed. “As I said to Elizabeth, this is a barbarous affair. Ithink it’s time to leave. I have no wish to watch the victims led to thesacrificial stone.”
“I will be pleased to be home. I would be pleased to be returning toSomerset.” It was a strong hint.
As they descended the grand staircase he said, “So would I. But I thinkwe have to look into this matter of Deveril. I may have forsworn pettyrevenge, but I don’t like seeing him at such high water. I’d rather seehim in the mud.”
“So would I,” she said, remembering the horrible man who had tried tobuy her, then ruin her into marriage. “But he’s a dangerous man,Nicholas.”
“So am I,” said Nicholas Delaney calmly.
Chapter Fourteen
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Beth saw the Delaneys leave and felt strangely as if she’d lost heronly allies. True to his promise, Mr. Beaumont was not here. Lord Dariusand Viscount Amleigh were apparently already on their way to Belgium totake part in the ever-more-likely war. She supposed Aunt Emma wassomewhere about, but she didn’t think that lady would be able to help.
No one would be able to help.
Beth took wine whenever it was presented and found it drew a comfortingmist between herself and reality.
All too soon, however, it was time for her and the marquess to retirefor the night. The duke and duchess, the bridesmaids, and a number of themarquess’s friends all formed a procession to escort them to thebedchamber.
His bedchamber.
Beth had never considered before how public an announcement of theirintended activity this would be. The picture of Mars and Venus loomedmonstrous in her mind, and she desperately wished to run and hide from allthe knowing looks, all the sniggering laughter. What an extraordinarilyvulgar business a wedding was.
Then she found herself alone with him. The alcoholic veil fell awayleaving her chilled with nerves and slightly sick. She simply stood andlooked at him. So large, so strong ...
After a moment he sighed. “Are you as terrified as you look or is thismore acting?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I mean, terrified.”
He poured her a glass of rich red wine. “Here,” he said as he passed itover. “This should help.” He took one for himself, drank it down, andpoured another.
Beth supposed it might. She’d like the misty comfort back again, buther hands began to shake and the wine splashed a deep red stain down herbeautiful white gown. She dropped the glass and began to cry.
She was swept up into his arms. She struggled frantically as he carriedher to the bed and laid her on the silken cover.
