knee was throbbing, and all I could think about was how wonderful Seger was, saying to me, ‘There, there now,’ and rubbing his cheek against the top of my head.”
“Then he returned to check on you that afternoon,” Quintina added, encouraging Gillian to continue.
“Yes, and that’s when I fell in love. No one knows what he’s really like, Auntie. Not like I do. I know the real Seger. Society has always judged him wrongly and most unfairly.”
Quintina remembered that day very well. That’s when the seed had been planted, and it had grown into something far too substantial to be ripped from its roots now. Especially by an American.
Straightening her shoulders, Quintina spoke with fresh resolve. “This wedding is impulsive for both of them. There is room to maneuver and to manipulate the situation. We will all be living together in the same house very soon, and I for one will not simply hand the reins over to a vulgar, opportunistic foreigner. She has no heart invested in this marriage, while you have half of your lifetime invested in loving Seger, deeply and truly. It is not fair, and we will do what is necessary to find a way around this obstacle. You will have him. It won’t be difficult. With all that we know about that woman and her past, we will find a way to put an end to this.”
He should not be troubled, Seger told himself, as he spoke his marriage vows in front of the reverend and the small number of guests. Clara simply had a blemish in her past, which was nothing compared to the complete discoloration of his own tainted history. He should think of it as further proof that they were a good match. She was a kindred spirit, so to speak. She was by nature impulsive and somewhat rebellious toward social restrictions, even though, since her near brush with scandal, she had tried to walk the straight and narrow.
He had witnessed that wild impulsiveness in bed when she had pleaded with him to make love to her. He had given in and reveled in her passion.
So, what was the problem now? he wondered, resisting the urge to rub the tense muscles at the back of his neck. Why did he not feel elated on this day when he was securing a beautiful, spirited woman as his bedmate, and he was removing the cloud of duty that had hung over his head his entire life—the duty to marry and produce an heir and continue his line.
He should be relieved. He should feel that a great weight had lifted, but he did not. He felt only apprehension.
Perhaps it was because he was entering into a permanent relationship with a complicated woman, and he would have to deal not only with the problems of life, but with her resulting emotions.
He’d dealt with a problem that morning, and it had not been a pleasant discussion. He hadn’t enjoyed asking her those questions. He’d tried to be impartial, and had wanted the same from her in return, for he had only once let himself near a woman’s emotions, and in doing so, he had fallen in love. Then he had been devastated beyond words when it came to an end.
No, he said to himself as he slipped the ring on his bride’s slender finger. He should not feel apprehension or any other convoluted emotion. This was all very simple. Clara had made a mistake once, and almost married a swindler. She did not care for the man, and it was ancient history. He knew about it now, and he would very quickly forget that.
In fact, he should try to see this as a good thing. Clara’s secret had put some distance between them. They did not really know each other, and this morning that truth had been brightly illuminated.
Yes, he should be able to relax somewhat. There was a small measure of space now.
So. All he had to think about was the very pleasant task of providing his line with the future Marquess of Rawdon. He would devote himself entirely to his wife’s pleasure, hour upon hour, until she was completely satisfied and sighing in his arms.
Not such a terrible fate after all.
Clara waited in her room that night for her husband to come to her.
Her husband. It hardly seemed real. One day, she was adoring him from afar, not even knowing his name. Now she was married to him—to her mysterious dream lover.
Just then, the doorknob