Passion and Propriety (Hearts of Honour Book 1) (29 page)

At the end of their first day of matrimony, their evening meal extended far beyond the usual time. So engaged were they in conversation, they kept forgetting to eat the delicacies placed before them.

“I thought we might establish a tradition of sorts,” William said after Hannah declared she couldn’t consume another bite. “You might have noticed the drawing rooms range in size from generous to downright cavernous?” Her quiet laugh confirmed she shared his view. “I thought, on those evenings we’re not entertaining, you might like to share them with me in a more congenial setting.”

He’d been going to say
intimate
but thought better of it.

“Where did you have in mind?” Hannah leaned forward in her seat.

“I thought we could make use of the sitting room attached to the master suite,” he said, hoping she wouldn’t read too much into his proposal. “The one you used as an office while I was convalescing? It has a cosy feel, and will be easy to heat in the winter.”

“That’s an excellent idea.” Hannah smiled. “Shall we go there now? Unless you want me to leave you alone while you indulge in brandy and a cigar?”

“Why would I want to do that?” William rose and came to assist her from her chair. “I never saw the appeal of sitting in a cloud of foul-smelling smoke, and I rarely imbibe, certainly not when alone.”

“Really?” Hannah seemed impressed by his revelation. “I thought all gentlemen indulged as a matter of course.”

“Not all.” Certainly not the sixth Viscount Blackthorn, who had no intention of following in the footsteps of his forebears when it came to drunkenness and the misery it engendered.

After he ushered Hannah into the sitting room that held some of his most cherished memories—who knew recovering from life-threatening injury could be the happiest time in one’s life?—her expression became noticeably downcast.

“What is it?”

“You removed my desk.”

“To a more sensible location.” He hid his smile. The wife he was beginning to read rather well rearranged her features to hide her disappointment.

“Of course. I imagine I’ll need a study of my own.”

“If you wish, though I thought you might prefer to share mine since we’ll be working together so closely.”

“We will?” Her eyes lit up.

“You’re my resident expert on the needs of the locals.” He stood before her and rested his hands upon her shoulders. “Your advice and ideas are invaluable, not
that I expect you to assist me in the running of the viscountcy, of course. You’ll be busy enough with the household and keeping track of our social engagements and whatnot. I wouldn’t want to overburden you—”

“Working with you could never be a burden.” The husky timbre of Hannah’s voice caused the muscles in his abdomen to tighten. When she lifted up on her toes, clearly aiming to kiss his cheek—she always chose the scarred one, as if to let him know it didn’t bother her—his resistance crumbled. Turning his head at the last moment, he captured her lips, his arms encircling her and drawing her close.

There was nothing chaste about this kiss. It lasted for many minutes, more a series of kisses, brushes of lips, nibbling tastes, and soft strokes of lips and tongue. William managed to keep it to a gentle exploration, though it took some willpower not to escalate it to a hungry devouring of one another’s mouths. For the first time, Hannah was the one to draw their kiss to a close, her breath coming in soft pants and her hazel eyes appearing golden in the firelit room.

“Have you given any more consideration to our plight? I don’t want to rush you—”

“But kisses aren’t enough.” A stab of pain replaced his burgeoning passion. With a groan, he stepped back and ran his good hand through his hair.

“No. Kisses are wonderful.” She placed a hand on his arm, her touch holding him as firmly in place as if she had the strength of ten men. “I’m sorry. You asked for time. I shouldn’t have pressed.”

“What if kisses are all I can ever offer?” He couldn’t hide his anguish, and saw it reflected in her eyes.

“Then I will treasure each and every one.” She moved her hand to place it over his heart. “I can’t begin to tell you how much your friendship means to me, William. To know you value my opinion and want me by your side is an extraordinary gift . . . more than I’d ever hoped for.”

He covered her hand and pressed it to his chest. “Your friendship means a great deal to me also.”

“Then we’re in agreement, not that we won’t
disagree
at times.” The smile that curved her lips released some of the tension he’d been holding. “I should warn you,” she continued, “you won’t always like my opinion. I shan’t be afraid to say when I think you’re wrong.”

“Not even forty-eight hours have passed since you promised to honour and respect me, and you’re already threatening mutiny.” William’s smile faltered when he recalled the other things they had promised each other. To have and to hold. To raise a family together.

“I’ll avoid calling you on your errors in public. Will that do?” Hannah said, and William strove to hide his sombre thoughts.

“Not at all. Public castigation by my wife will keep me from becoming puffed up . . . the downfall of many a viscount.”

“And what of a viscountess?” She matched his tone, but her smile faded. “Do you have any advice to help her avoid accusations of unworthiness?”

Taking her hand, William led her to the leather chesterfield he’d had installed in the sitting room for this very purpose. After drawing her down beside him on the right, he stretched his good arm around her shoulders.

“A viscountess need answer to no one but the occasional duchess, marchioness, princess, or queen, and we don’t have any of those around here.”

“Tell that to the ladies of Blackthorn,” Hannah murmured, letting her head rest against his shoulder.

William’s heart swelled with pride that she felt comfortable enough to do so. The day had been a success, and he only drew it to a close when he noticed his new bride hiding a yawn behind her hand.

“I think we’d best call it a night.” He leaned over to kiss the top of her head.

“If you insist.” She sighed before meeting his gaze. “You’re not going to share my bed, are you?”

He shook his head. “Not tonight,” he said, unsure why he’d worded it that way. Despite saying he would consider her request, the risk was too great. Since he couldn’t bear to lose Hannah, he had no intention of sharing her bed ever again.

Chapter 24

Unbearable

After another shared breakfast, William asked Hannah if she would like to go riding. He’d purchased her a lovely chestnut mare and was eager for them to become acquainted.

“I thought we could explore the estate,” he added, the fear that appeared in her eyes causing him to reconsider his plan. “You don’t ride?” He could have kicked himself for making the assumption. She’d been raised a curate’s daughter on a minimal income. Maintaining a stable of leisure ponies was an expensive business.

“I was given opportunity when I visited Grace at the Cromley Estate, but I’m not very good.” She grimaced. “The first and last time I went on a hunt, I ended up in a ditch. It took weeks for the bruises to fade.”

“What were you thinking?” Apprehension made William’s tone harsher than he’d intended. “Riding to hounds requires an experienced level of horsemanship. You could have been killed.”

Hannah bristled. “I know that
now.
I’d only ever ridden astride as a girl . . . that’s how one learns. Riding sidesaddle is much more difficult, but it was the first invitation I accepted after my mother’s death. I thought it would be a good way to reintroduce myself into society.”

“Riding sidesaddle is a preposterous notion,” William said, hoping to ease the discomfiture he’d caused her. “It takes years of practice to master. Would you be averse to riding astride? It’s much safer. We could take it slow until you’ve built up your confidence.”

“I’d need a special riding habit.” Hannah seemed taken by the idea, but then her expression fell. “But it’s not the done thing. People will talk.”

“Let them.” William shrugged. “They will anyway, at least, they always have where I’m concerned. I should have warned you about that, but then you might not have agreed to marry me.”

“Since your proposal was intended to save me from serious conjecture, I hardly think that would have been likely.”

William frowned at the reminder. Hannah might believe he’d married her to rescue her reputation, but the gossip had worked in his favour, giving him the excuse he needed to do what his heart already craved.

“What about a drive instead?” Hannah’s suggestion brought them back to the plans he’d had for the day. “We could take your new sulky.”

William scowled. Like any officer, he could ride one-handed as long he had two reasonably sound legs with which to control his mount, his spare hand needed for brandishing his sword. But carriage driving required two hands.

“I’d need your help,” he admitted, sacrificing his pride so as not to disappoint her. After releasing her fingers, he formed his hands into two, unequal fists. “I can manage the reins with my right, but I’ll need you to be my whip hand.”

“I’d be honoured.” Hannah covered the weak, loose curve he’d formed with his left hand. The sensation was incomplete, but he appreciated he could feel anything with the hand he’d not expected to keep, and he managed a gentle squeeze of her fingers in return.

They spent the day exploring some of his favourite haunts and enjoying a picnic lunch by the lake. One of the things he loved about Hannah was that while their conversation flowed easily, she didn’t feel the need to fill every silence with idle chatter. When she did speak, it was because she had something of worth to say.

Driving back to the manor through the extensive orchards, now sadly in need of attention, they responded with waves and nods to the greetings of his new labourers. Knowing at almost any time throughout the day they could be observed had helped him keep his demeanour suitably reserved. But once again, William found himself losing control when they retired to their private sitting room that night. Seated upon the chesterfield, they followed their first relatively chaste kiss with one that was less so. As passion overwhelmed him, William wondered how he would ever get enough of the taste and touch and feel of his wife. Holding her in the circle of his arms, he stroked her back, holding tight. If he wasn’t careful, he would have her stretched out beneath him on the padded leather seat, and then God alone knew how he would stop himself from taking things further. Calling on what little self-control he had left, he pulled away from her soft, sweet mouth.

“I think we’d best call it a night.” He rested his forehead against hers, both of them breathing hard. Her shoulders shook in response to his words, and he feared she had begun to cry.

“Hannah?” he said, and she seemed to collect herself. After taking several deep breaths, she pulled away, only the telltale trembling of her lips betraying her.

“Yes, of course.” She didn’t meet his gaze. “Thank you for a wonderful day.” She stood and crossed the room to the door that led to her suite, leaving him sitting forward on the seat with his elbows resting on his knees. It was impolite of him not to stand, but the effect of their shared passion would be all too visible if he did.

“Good night, William.” She turned to face him, her smile strained, and he admired her courage. Smiling was beyond him.

“Good night, Hannah,” he said, hoping she would have pleasant dreams.

He didn’t expect to sleep at all.

The next day, William went out of his way to make up for rejecting his wife. Enticing her to engage with him in passionate activity and then calling a halt was unpardonable behaviour for a gentleman. Determined not to send such mixed messages again, he vowed to maintain his reserve. While solicitous, he refrained from indulging in
too
many kisses, no matter how great the temptation. Receiving word early in the day his final wedding gift for Hannah had arrived, he waited anxiously for it to be readied. They were both in need of a distraction.

“I’ve a surprise for you,” he said after lunch, leading her into the gold drawing room. It wasn’t the cosiest of settings, being the largest of the manor’s many parlours, but he’d had the furniture arranged to create the illusion of intimacy. He could have chosen a more modestly sized drawing room for her gift to preside, but this location would be ideal for entertaining.