Julie Garwood Page 20

  Bradford’s answer to her demand was to pick her up and carry her to the bed. He dropped her in the center and pushed her down on the pillows. “I’ll take care of everything,” he said in a soothing voice. There was a sparkle in his eyes when he added, “Trust me.”

  He kissed her again, a quick brotherly peck on the side of her cheek, and then walked over to the door.

  “Bradford, this isn’t finished,” Caroline called after him.

  Bradford opened the door. His back was to her but she could hear the smile in his voice. “I know, my sweet. It’s about time you understood that.”

  Caroline was off the bed and running before Bradford had the door closed. “You won’t tell him about the letter, will you? He’ll send me back to Boston if you do. I won’t have him worried,” Caroline stated emphatically.

  Bradford shook his head and let his exasperation show. He started down the hall when Caroline had a sudden, horrible thought. She grabbed Bradford by the edge of his jacket. “If he demands a duel, don’t you dare agree.”

  Bradford didn’t answer her. He continued walking, with Caroline trailing behind. “And just what am I supposed to do?” she asked. She realized she was still pulling on his coattail and immediately let go. The man was making her act like an imbecil.

  She simply had to get hold of herself, she thought, even as she heard herself repeat her question. “Well, what am I to do?” She was referring to the letter and her father’s wrath but couldn’t form the explanation in her brain to tell him so.

  Bradford was taking the steps two at a time while Caroline watched him, clutching the top of the bannister rail. “You might try growing your hair before Saturday,” Bradford called over his shoulder.

  All the bluster went out of Caroline with Bradford’s ludicrous remark. She sat down on the top step and put her head in her hands. What in God’s name was happening to her? She needed to be in control, she told herself. She needed order in her life. She would straighten this mess out, she told herself as she made her way back to her room.

  So he was once again in her life, she thought with a sigh. It was a mixed blessing, having him pursue her again. Her heart was glad for it but the logical, unemotional part of her knew that the problems continued to exist between them. Unless she could find a way to teach him how to love, how to trust her enough to give her his love, then the future looked bleak indeed.

  She believed that she was nothing but a pretty bit of goods to Bradford. How long would the attraction hold him? How long before he grew bored with her and turned to someone else? He had called it a game, and Caroline was beginning to believe that was all it was to him.

  She couldn’t marry him yet. She wanted to share her life with a man who would love her when the beauty had faded, when wrinkles of time lined her face.

  It wasn’t an impossible dream. Her uncle Henry and aunt Mary loved each other more now, after years together. And Charity and Paul Bleachley loved the same way. Caroline remembered that Bradford had believed that Charity would turn her back on Paul because he was no longer handsome.

  She didn’t know if she could change his attitude. He had been raised in a superficial society where looks seemed to count above all else.

  What kind of marriage would it be? Would she begin to fret over her appearance, worry about her figure, her clothing? Would all that she had always considered insignificant become uppermost in her mind? Dear God, would she change so much that she would start to giggle and swoon at the drop of a hat, like Lady Tillman?

  Caroline shook her head, trying to stop the ridiculous notions rambling through her mind. She got into bed and tried to sleep. At least, she consoled herself, she had admitted that she couldn’t marry him. “Until he is suitable,” she whispered the promise into the darkness. And then she cried herself to sleep.

  Chapter Ten

  IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL WEDDING. AT LEAST THAT WAS WHAT everyone kept telling Caroline as she stood in the reception line next to the man she had just exchanged vows with, the man she had just promised to love and cherish until death did one of them part.

  Caroline was thankful that the ordeal was finally over. She had given up fighting the inevitable the day before, when she, Charity, and her father had traveled to Bradford Hills. It had been decided that the wedding would take place there so that tradition would continue. Bradford’s father, grandfather, and great-grandfather had all been married in the mansion.

  Bradford had seen to all the arrangements while Charity and the earl had taken care of the announcements and invitations. Now, as she glanced around the beautiful ballroom, Caroline was amazed that it had all gone so well. Everyone looked immensely pleased. Everyone but Caroline. She was still having difficulty sorting it all out.

  Bradford had placated her father the night of their encounter, and the next morning the earl had announced that he was thrilled with the match. Caroline tried to point out that there wasn’t going to be any match but her father absolutely refused to listen to reason. She remembered that he had asked her if she loved Bradford and she had been foolishly honest enough to admit that she did, and from that moment on, he turned deaf to her arguments.

  There wasn’t anyone she could turn to for help. And Charity drove her to distraction. Caroline wasn’t allowed out of the house and therefore couldn’t escape her attention.

  Madam Newcott and three jittery seamstresses worked night and day on her wedding gown, right there in the house, and Bradford had employed two burly-looking men to see to her protection. Caroline’s father never commented on it and she wondered what he was thinking. She wasn’t at all convinced that the guardians were there solely to see to her protection either. She wouldn’t put it past Bradford to instruct them to keep her from running away. The thought had entered her mind, and she fantasized about returning to Boston more than once. Life had certainly been less complicated then.

  Caroline hadn’t met Bradford’s mother until she was settled in the magnificent home called Bradford Hills. She was in the bedroom assigned to her, changing for dinner, when a dignified woman entered. She was taller than Caroline and elegantly dressed and walked with the bearing of royalty.

  Caroline hastily pulled a robe from the closet, put it on, and then tried for a dignified curtsy while the duchess studied her.

  “Are you carrying his child?” the duchess asked with such briskness in her voice that Caroline was jarred by it.

  “No.” Caroline didn’t elaborate. If Bradford’s mother was rude enough to ask such a question, then she would return the rudeness.

  The two stared at each other for a long minute. Caroline noticed that the woman’s eyes were the same color as Bradford’s. She had deep wrinkles around the corners, telling Caroline that she was a woman who smiled often.

  “Don’t let him cower you,” the duchess decreed. She sat down in one of the stuffed chairs and motioned for Caroline to take the other.

  “I’ve never cowered in my life,” Caroline remarked as she sat down across from her soon-to-be mother-in-law. “I’m not sure I even know how.”

  “He always was impatient. When he settles on something, he wants to see it through immediately.”

  Caroline nodded. The briskness in the woman’s voice no longer offended her and she found herself smiling. “He’s not only impatient,” Caroline said, “but overbearing and arrogant as well. I think that you should know we’re ill-suited for each other.”

  The duchess smiled, seemingly unaffected by Caroline’s honesty. “You actually don’t want to marry him?” she asked.

  “He doesn’t love me,” Caroline acknowledged very matter-of-factly. “And he doesn’t trust me. A sad start, wouldn’t you agree? Perhaps, if you would speak to him, he might reconsider?”

  “Nonsense, child. He obviously wants you or he wouldn’t marry you. My son never does anything he doesn’t want to do. It’s up to you to make him love you, not that it is really necessary.”

  “To love isn’t necessary?” Caroline asked, showing her confusio
n.

  “It’s a solid match, that’s the important thing,” the duchess returned.

  She stood up then and walked over to the door. “I believe my son has chosen well.” And with that pronouncement, she left the room.

  “Caroline! Are you daydreaming on your wedding day?” Charity was pulling on her arm to gain her attention. “Only think of it, you are a duchess now.”

  Caroline wasn’t aware that Bradford had turned from his conversation to hear Charity’s enthusiastic remark. She shook her head and replied, “No, I’m Bradford’s wife first. That is quite enough to deal with now.”

  Bradford smiled, pleased with her comment. Milford appeared, making a formal bow before Caroline, and took hold of her hand. The sapphire ring that Bradford had placed on her finger glittered in the candlelight, drawing Bradford’s attention, and he felt a wave of satisfaction overtake him. The ring was proof that she belonged to him.

  When Milford had finished with his congratulations, he said, “Will you forgive me for breaking my promise?”

  Caroline shook her head. “I won’t. It was a dastardly thing to do and look where I have ended up because of it.”

  Milford didn’t appear the least remorseful. “Tell me, what did you find so amusing when you were reciting your marriage vows?” he asked.

  “If you’re referring to the fact that my wife laughed her way through them, I can assure you it was because she was overcome with joy.” Bradford’s statement forced a reluctant smile from Caroline.

  “I’ve a cheerful disposition,” Caroline told Milford. She turned to her husband and added, “Unless, of course, I’m forced into a situation I have no control over. Then I can become quite contrary.”

  Bradford didn’t react to her comment. He merely took hold of her hand and led her to the center of the ballroom. It was time to begin the dancing.

  The rest of the evening was a blur to Caroline. She kept wishing for just a few minutes alone, just enough time to think one coherent thought, to catch her breath, but Bradford never left her side. And then it was time to go upstairs.

  Charity assisted her. She had grown quiet and Caroline was thankful for it. Only after her bath was completed and she was dressed in a transparent white nightgown did Charity whisper the question that had been worrying her. “Do you understand what will happen, Caroline? Did Mama explain what a husband and wife do together?”

  Caroline shook her head. “Mama would have fainted after the first sentence,” she said.

  Charity looked crestfallen. “Oh, then I’ll have to wait until the next time I see you to find out exactly—”

  “Charity! Don’t make me more nervous! Oh, why do we have to spend the night here?” she groaned. She thought about what was going to happen and then pictured facing everyone tomorrow. “They’ll all know,” she whispered.

  “Don’t be nervous,” Charity stated. “If you laugh while … well, you know, then I think Bradford will become angry.”

  Before Caroline could comment, Charity hugged her and took her leave. “I’ll pray for you,” she whispered before closing the door.

  Caroline stood in the center of the bedroom and waited. She thought about getting into bed but decided that hiding under the covers wouldn’t do at all. Bradford might find that humorous, and she would die if he laughed at her.

  The connecting door to Bradford’s bedroom opened and he was suddenly standing there.

  Bradford leaned against the doorway and looked at his wife. She was so breathtakingly beautiful that his breath caught in his throat. The seductive gown Caroline wore left little to the imagination, and Bradford took his time admiring her long shapely legs, slender hips, and full breasts.

  Caroline returned her husband’s gaze. He had removed his jacket and his cravat and his hair fell forward, softening his features. His expression was guarded, and Caroline found him both irresistibly handsome and frightening. She wasn’t nervous anymore, only terrified. She wished she hadn’t cut her hair, thinking that the length of it might have covered part of her breasts. Would it be childish of her to grab the comforter from the bed and wrap it around herself?

  She shivered and wasn’t sure if it was because of the chill in the bedroom or her husband’s intense scrutiny.

  “Charity’s praying for me,” she heard herself say. Her voice was little more than a weak whisper, but she knew he heard her because his eyebrow lifted a fraction. And then he smiled, and Caroline wasn’t terrified anymore.

  She turned, trying to remember what she had done with her robe, when Bradford finally found his voice. “Don’t be afraid, Caroline.” He started walking toward her, his gaze tender.

  “I’m not afraid, only freezing,” Caroline returned. She tried to smile while she rubbed her arms. She was shaking now and couldn’t seem to stop.

  Bradford put his arms around her and hugged her. “Better?” he asked, his voice husky.

  Caroline nodded. “You have a beautiful home, Bradford, but it’s so cold,” she whispered against his chest. “And drafty,” she added when Bradford lifted her into his arms and started toward his room. “The fireplaces don’t give sufficient heat.” Lord, even as she blurted out the words, she wished she could stop herself. What was the matter with her? Caroline closed her mouth and determined not to say another word.

  Bradford shut the door behind him, locked it, and then carried Caroline over to the bed. The covers on the gigantic four-poster were drawn back and Bradford placed her in the center. As soon as he released her, Caroline started trembling again.

  “You’ll be warm in a minute, love,” Bradford promised. There was amusement in his voice and his eyes, and Caroline knew he was smiling because he thought she was shivering over what was about to happen. She gave him what she hoped was a disgruntled look. He definitely had the upper hand right now, and Caroline felt completely helpless. She thought, as she watched her husband divest himself of his shoes and shirt, that if she could just stop staring at him, she might be able to find a way to gain a little control. He was sitting on the side of the bed and Caroline wanted to reach out and touch him.

  She remembered how his kisses had inflamed her in the past and how she had never wanted the touching to stop, and just thinking those thoughts released some of the fright.

  Bradford stood up, started to take his breeches off, and then hesitated. He turned, giving Caroline a full view of his powerful chest. Curly black hair covered the sinewy strength. Caroline knew she stared, but couldn’t help herself.

  “You remind me of a Spartan warrior, did you know that?” Caroline blurted out. She noticed the scar right above his waistline then and asked, “Did you get that in a battle?”

  “A brawl,” Bradford corrected. He smiled and sat back down on the bed. He decided to leave his breeches on for the time being, out of deference for his innocent wife’s feelings. She was as skittish as a new foal and he didn’t want to frighten her any more than she already was. “Milford has an identical scar, although his is on the left side. Tokens of our first night on the other side of town.”

  “I’ll have to ask him to show it to me,” Caroline commented with a sparkle in her eyes. She was relaxing with the easy banter between them. Bradford acted as if he had all the time in the world, and the initial panic that had overtaken Caroline now receded. She felt almost in control again.

  “You’ll do no such thing,” Bradford answered, his voice a low growl. “Best friend or not, he’d probably rip his clothes off with your first suggestion.”

  “You don’t trust Milford?” Caroline’s voice sounded incredulous.

  Bradford didn’t answer her. He was having enough difficulty trying to follow the conversation. His loins ached and all he could think about was taking his wife into his arms.

  “I think I should warn you, Bradford …” Caroline began. She couldn’t look at him and lowered her gaze to stare at her hands.

  Bradford frowned, wondering over the serious tone in her voice. He reached out, cupped the sides of her face wit
h his hands, and forced her to look at him.

  “I’m not completely certain about the procedure … I’m not at all sure what I’m supposed to do.”

  Bradford nodded, trying his damnedest to keep his expression solemn. “I didn’t expect you to be experienced,” he said.

  Caroline continued to look at him, her expression serious, but Bradford noticed that special sparkle was back. “I assume that you do know what to do?”

  Bradford slowly nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and Caroline added, “I thought that you did, but you’re just sitting there and you still have your breeches on and even I know that it’s a necessary requirement to have them off.”

  He didn’t answer her, but he did take her into his arms. He stretched out, taking her with him, and lowered his hands to her hips, pulling her firmly against him. “I thought to keep my pants on out of consideration for your innocent feelings.”

  “I don’t think it will work,” Caroline whispered against his neck.

  Bradford began to stroke Caroline’s back and nudged her head aside with his jaw so that he could place soft kisses on her neck. “What? My considerations or my pants?”

  Caroline started to answer but his warm breath against her ear made her lose her train of thought. “You’re making me warm,” she whispered instead.

  “Not good enough,” Bradford told her. He rolled her over onto her back and covered her with his body. “I want you hot, Caroline. So hot that your body glistens from the heat.” His mouth covered hers then, in a kiss that promised fulfillment of his demand.

  Caroline’s lips parted under his and Bradford’s tongue invaded her mouth, penetrating the sweet, soft interior. She sighed over the erotic feelings he created and began to slowly caress his shoulders. His skin felt so hard, so muscular, so incredibly warm.

  Bradford kept up the tender assault against her mouth until Caroline couldn’t form a single thought. She allowed the sensual waves of pleasure to consume her, heard herself moan in protest when he moved away from her. He stood up and quickly removed the rest of his clothing and Caroline thought he was the most beautiful man alive. He was so uninhibited by his nudity, so casual about it, that Caroline wasn’t nearly as embarrassed as she thought she ought to be. Of course, she couldn’t bring herself to look at him there, stopping just short of his muscular thighs.