Meredith shivered. She need not turn around to identify the speaker. It was now easy and quick for her to distinguish Trevor’s voice among all other men’s.
“Lady Anne is a virtual paragon,” Meredith intoned, trying hard to fight the jealousy she felt, for she truly liked the woman. “You would have done well to heed your father’s advice and consider making a match with her.”
“ ’Tis not necessary for my father to chose my women,” Trevor said. She felt his hand close around her elbow.
Meredith turned and angled her head to look up at him. The marquess gave her a wicked half grin. For some bizarre reason, the force of that gaze made her press her knees tightly together in a combination of fear and anticipation.
The words he had spoken to the duke earlier in such a cavalier manner echoed through her head:This is our wedding night.
“There are several young ladies who are eager to showcase their musical skills,” Meredith said. She licked away the dryness of her lips. “I imagine the entertainment will continue well into the night.”
“We certainly cannot be expected to stay,” Trevor said gruffly. He backed her against the wall and swiveled so he stood with his body nearly touching hers. A heavy, sweet ache formed inside Meredith. She strained toward him, wanting desperately to mold herself against his large muscular form.
“It will cause a great deal of commotion if we leave now.” Her breasts rose as she breathed in deeply.
“Then we must be very clever and slip away without being noticed.” He spoke quietly, his warm breath caressing her face.
“How?”
His eyes deepened to a stormy blue. “Do you think you can find your way to the third floor landing of the main staircase?”
Though it was difficult to concentrate with these feelings of shimmering tension between them, Meredith forced her mind to recall the layout of the mansion. “Yes, I believe I know how to find it.”
“Good. I want you to exit the room in five minutes. I shall follow after another five have passed. There is a portrait gallery on the west wing of the third floor. Wait for me there.”
She held his gaze for an instant. Then she nodded her head unsteadily. Once he had her agreement, the marquess turned and walked away. His abrupt departure deflated her, but she kept her features bland, in case they were being observed.
Meredith dared not move from her secluded location against the wall, fearing to be drawn into a conversation that might delay her departure. She forced herself to wait five minutes and then an extra minute for good measure before discreetly slipping out the door.
Grinning like a giddy schoolgirl, she scurried down the hall, around the corner and up the main staircase. Though there were many servants positioned in various locations along her route, no one questioned her. Her heart thundering with nerves and excitement, Meredith proceeded to the third floor to meet her fate.
Ten
In the luxurious gold, blue, and ivory bedchamber, Rose helped Meredith prepare for bed. She was glad the young maid had accompanied her, for Rose’s friendly face and usual chatter helped calm Meredith’s nerves.
The servant provided a much needed connection to her past, and that was a comfort to Meredith as she prepared to move toward her future. Tonight she was going to start to make a new life for herself, to assume a role she never honestly thought she would achieve: wife.
Trevor had been moodily silent on the walk to their rooms earlier, and Meredith was at a loss to understand why. She had hoped for a kiss when they met on the third floor gallery, conspirators sharing the victory of their escape. But the marquess had only nodded his head in greeting when he found her waiting exactly where he requested and had moved quickly forward.
Thankfully she was tall and long legged, or she would have been forced to run to keep pace with him. That would have almost been too humiliating to bear, for she got the distinct feeling he wasn’t hurrying to get to their bedchamber, but rather hurrying to get away from her.
Gone was the look of potent sensuality he seemed to delight in bestowing upon her, replaced by an impassive look that grew distant and tense with each step they took.
Something seemed to happen to Trevor as they walked down that long corridor, and it disturbed Meredith greatly, for she felt incapable of reversing the coldness that had come upon him. He had left her alone to prepare for bed, as any considerate husband would do for his bride, yet it had not felt like consideration. It had felt like abandonment.
Meredith shook her head at her fancy wonderings. Her nerves must be making her melancholy and overly dramatic. It was far too soon to worry if Trevor would ever reciprocate her feelings. If she continued with these gloomy thoughts, she would never be able to survive the night to come. What could be more depressing than facing a bleak, loveless future?
Meredith forced her mind to change directions. This was her wedding night! It was hardly necessary for Trevor to lose his head over her. His kisses and caresses had aptly demonstrated his desire. For now she possessed more than enough love for them both.
“You look beautiful, my lady,” Rose said with a trace of awe.
Meredith smiled her thanks and glanced in the mirror above her dressing table. The pale blue silk nightgown was of simple design, low cut and sleeveless, with an open front guaranteed to tempt any warm blooded male to reach inside and explore. In a show of bravado, Meredith declined the matching robe, clearly shocking her maid.
“I will see you in the morning, Rose.”
“Late morning, I expect.” Rose giggled briefly at her own daring and hastily left the room.
Meredith’s nerves kicked up again once she was alone. She glanced at the door along the far wall, the one that led to Trevor’s sitting room, but it remained shut tight. Sighing, she picked up her silver-handled brush, sat before the dressing table, and rhythmically stroked her hair.
