Sinful in Satin (39 page)

She began to speak. He touched his fingers to her lips to stop any more recitations of Alessandra’s practicalities. “And if anyone should look at my life, they will find that I am married to a good woman who has always been honest in her love and passion.”

Love was in her gaze, but hesitation too. “You cannot know all of this for certain, Jonathan. What if you are wrong?”

“You are the light of my life, Celia, in ways you will never understand. I told you once that I would never give you up easily. Now I could never give you up at all, not even to be Thornridge.”

The caution left her, and the worldly, practical knowing disappeared from her eyes. She circled his neck with her arms and laughed.

“I will argue no further, since you are so determined. I am proud that you love me this much, and that you will be mine in truth. This is exciting but also frightening, Jonathan. So frightening it is a wonder you did not walk away from it. They may have to give you that inheritance, but they do not have to accept us.”

“We already know some will accept us. They already do. As for the rest, we will live as we like and not worry too much about them.”

She kissed him. Beautifully. Expertly. She laid her fair cheek against his and breathed her contentment. “I cannot hold all this happiness in me, Jonathan. My heart is so full of love that I think it will burst. I am too joyful to weep, but I don’t know what else to do with all this emotion.”

He stood, lifting her in his arms. He carried her toward the stairs. “I do.”

C
elia sat on the bench near the garden door, basking in the day’s warm sun. Down the garden path, near the shrubbery, April’s tulips displayed their happy colors while they swayed in the fresh breeze.

She waited for Jonathan’s return. He had gone to another meeting about his petition. Thornridge had said he would contest the claim on the title, as expected. Also the legality of the marriage, and the right of any inheritance. It would indeed drag out, and be the talk of the season. All kinds of legalities would complicate the matter, most of which Celia did not understand. The articles in the newspapers opined, however, that Jonathan was likely to receive the estate at least.

In the meantime they would live in this house, and she was not sorry for that. She had grown fond of it, and proud of her partnership with Daphne. This was a fine garden too, she decided, gazing out at the new beds that had been dug, and other improvements. There would be room for children here.

Her hand instinctively went to her body as she thought that. She could not help laughing. She and Jonathan had wed none too soon.

Jonathan entered the garden then, and walked toward her. He appeared happy, but then, he often did now. He smiled as he sat beside her, stretched out his legs, and crossed his boots.

“Are you warm enough here?” he asked. “You should take care. The sun is warm, but the air is still chilled.”

“I am fine.”

He embraced her shoulders with his arm anyway, to provide more warmth. She rested her head on his shoulder.

“It went well?” she asked.

“Well enough. Also boring and tedious, as I expected. There were twenty lawyers there, a bishop, two dukes, three earls, and more vellum than I have seen in my life combined.”

“It sounds horrible.”

“Not horrible, but it will be lengthy. As best I can tell, first I go to the Church courts about the marriage. Then I go to other courts about the inheritance, once the marriage is upheld. Then I go to the House of Lords. My cousin’s lawyers kept saying ‘once a peer, always a peer.’ The High Chancellor opined that tradition did not apply to men who usurped a title through criminal acts. One bishop disagreed. The other said the Lords may consider such crimes treasonous. And so it went, all afternoon.” He laughed. “I will probably be dead before it is completely done.”

“You do not appear too concerned about that.”

“That is because I am exaggerating. It will be some years, however. Also, what happened as I left those chambers is more on my mind, and cause for my mood.” He smiled slyly. “My cousin’s solicitor approached me and asked to have a word with me.”

“Whatever for?”

“To discuss my allowance.”

She straightened and looked at him, perplexed. “He wants to give you money?”

“Hell of a thing, isn’t it? I don’t think he
wants
to. I think he believes it would look bad if he did not now. Everyone knows I am his uncle’s son one way or another. Perhaps he fears that if he does not make this gesture, the bigger question will be badly influenced against him.” He shrugged, and closed his eyes.

“Or, perhaps he sees the estate slipping out of his hands eventually, and wants to encourage you to be as generous as he, when it is yours.”

“How cynical of you, Celia.” He kissed her nose. “I am sure it is just his good heart at work.”

She nestled against him again. “How much was this allowance he offered?”

His eyes remained closed and turned to the sun. “A respectable amount.”

“How respectable?”

“A lot.”

She smacked on his shoulder. “
How much?
”

“Two thousand.”

“A year?”

“Mmm.”

“That is a handsome income, Jonathan.”

“I thought so. Had the solicitor approached me before the meeting, I might have taken it. Having just left hours of droning tedium, I decided I deserved more and countered with seven thousand. We settled in the middle.”

More than four thousand pounds a year. “What will we do with it?”

“We could buy you a new wardrobe, I suppose. And some jewels.”

“A carriage would be nice, with a matched pair.”

“See, if we put our minds to it, we will manage to run through it in no time.” He hooked his arm around her neck and drew her close so he could kiss her. “You can have it all, to do as you wish, Celia. I have what I want right here.” He touched her belly, then her breast, in a caress.

A discreet cough at the garden door made them both turn. Bella stood there, flushing hotly from what she had witnessed. “My apologies. But there is a man here, to see you, Celia. He is in the sitting room. I’ve his card here.”

Jonathan stood to take the card. He read it, and raised his eyebrows. He handed it to Celia.

Mr. Mappleton had called.

 

 

M
r. Mappleton was all smiles when they greeted him. He bowed a little deeper than he ever had in the past to Celia, and made some flattering, ingratiating comments to Jonathan. Celia assumed that Mr. Mappleton had been reading the papers about her husband’s considerable expectations.

When they all sat, the solicitor smiled some more. “I have come for several reasons. I hope you do not mind. I thought to spare you the visit to my chambers.”

“That is considerate of you.” She had always liked Mr. Mappleton. He had been a faithful helper to her mother.

“Yes, well, first, I want to inform you that the estate is settled. All is in order. There have been no further claims on it, so this house is yours free and clear.”

“That is good to know.” She resisted glancing at Jonathan, who had ensured there would be no further claim.

“I also come as an emissary,” Mr. Mappleton said, more seriously. “It is my sincere hope that you will hear me out. My words are verbatim, from the gentleman who asked I speak them.”

“Which gentleman?” Jonathan asked.

“I am not at liberty to say, sir. I was assured that Miss Pennifold—Mrs. Albrighton—would know the source and meaning.” His eyes sparkled mischievously. “I think it would not be a betrayal of my charge if I said this was a
most
esteemed gentleman.”

“Let us hear it, then,” Jonathan said.

“I am asked to tell you, Mrs. Albrighton, that if you call again, you will be received. That is the entire message.”

Jonathan caught her eye. He did not appear joyed by the overture. Actually, he appeared much as she felt. It would be some time before she called on Enderby again, no matter what second thoughts he recently had. She would someday, though. He was her father, wasn’t he?

“Thank you, Mr. Mappleton. I understand, and appreciate your service in this,” she said.

“Now that is done. There is only one more thing.” He reached in his coat and brought forth a letter. “This was left in my possession by your mother. The instructions were to give it to you, if you ever married for love.” He looked at her, then Jonathan, and blushed. “As if I could know for sure! I said as much to her. She assured me that her daughter would answer the question honestly if I put it to her.”

He suddenly appeared dismayed. “Perhaps I need to ask this of the lady privately, Mr. Albrighton. Yes, that would be best, I suppose. How careless of me. I am not accustomed to such a peculiar mission and—”

“Do not distress yourself, sir,” Celia said. “My husband’s presence does not constrain my honesty on this of all questions. I most certainly married for love, I assure you.”

Mr. Mappleton looked at her kindly. “Yes, I believe you did, dear lady.” He ceremoniously offered her the letter.

He took his leave then. Celia sat with the letter on her lap. The paper appeared fresh enough. It must have been written not all that long ago.

“Aren’t you going to read it?” Jonathan asked.

“I do not know if I want to. It contains a scold for this marriage, I am sure, and for being reckless with my future.”

Jonathan scowled. “If so, it is cruel and selfish that she reaches out from the grave to distress you. I would have thought better of her.”

She fingered the paper with trepidation, then quickly opened it.

She read its contents once, and blinked hard, confused by the words. She read it a second time. Her heart filled as she did. Emotions overwhelmed her. She began weeping uncontrollably.

Jonathan gathered her into an embrace. He took the letter and crushed it in his fist. “We will burn it, and if any more come, you are not to read them. I will not see you so distraught merely because she could not accept that her plans for you were not your plans for yourself.”

She shook her head, and struggled for composure. “It is not what you think, my love. Not selfish or cruel. It is a lovely letter.” She took it from his clenched hand, and unfolded it. She smoothed the sheet on her lap. “You must read it with me. You must.”

Head to head, and bound by his embracing arm, they read the letter together.

On sale in May 2011 from Jove Books

 

There is only one man who can shake
Daphne’s composure.
And there is only one woman who can resist
Castleford’s outrageous brand of seduction.