Bedeviled Bride (Regency Historical Romance) Read online

  “Beth,” he said in quiet, but commanding tones.

  Her eyes shot open suddenly and met with his. Michael couldn’t ignore the terrified and desperate look he saw there. He wanted to comfort her, though he knew she probably wouldn’t let him.

  “Goodness, Beth, are you all right?”

  She didn’t move, didn’t say a word. Perhaps she was still not awake. Perhaps she was still in the dream. His sister had walked and talked in her sleep when she was little, and oftentimes her eyes had been wide open, as if she were fully awake.

  He reached out to touch her, with the intent of shaking her awake, but she fairly jumped before his hand made contact with her shoulder.

  “Stop!” she shouted frantically as she shimmied to the other side of the bed. Away from him. “What are you doing?”

  Confused, he scowled down at her. “Trying to wake you. You were having a bad dream.”

  “A bad...oh, yes, a bad dream.”

  Michael watched as she clearly began to remember the dream. It must have been awful, if her horrified expression was any indication. “Would you care to tell me about it?”

  Her gaze snapped to his. “Oh, no, that’s all right. You must be tired. I’m sorry if I woke you.”

  “You didn’t. I was reading.”

  Beth looked down sheepishly and cleared her throat. “Good,” she said. “I’m glad of that.”

  Michael was about to offer to hear about her dream again, but she cut him off with a chipper, “Well, goodnight!”

  Slowly, he began to retreat to his room. Halfway to the door, he turned around. There his wife sat, a too-wide smile on her face, her entire body still submerged under the covers. Something wasn’t right, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. He considered her for a moment.

  “Are you sure you’re all right, Beth?” He wasn’t trying to provoke her, but she wasn’t acting herself just now. And that bothered him to no end. What was she up to?

  “Mm-hmm,” she smiled back. “Fine!”

  “Why are you smiling like that?”

  The corners of her mouth immediately turned down. “Like what?”

  That was it. Something was definitely going on here, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it. “What are you hiding under there?” He pointed to the covers, under which her hands were still hidden.

  “Under where?” she parroted, feigning innocence.

  Innocence. Inn-o-cence. All the blood drained from his face in a sudden whoosh. She must have seen it in his features that he’d figured her out, because at the same moment, all her blood seemed to rush to her cheeks. Astonishment and disbelief set his feet pounding to her bedside. She tried to scoot back to the other side of the bed, but she was too late. Michael had already ripped off the covers, revealing her nightgown, which had been hiked up around her middle.

  He tried to speak, but all that came out was a series of stuttered, incoherent words. And somewhere in the midst of his discovery, he’d become hard as a rock. It didn’t matter that she’d been toying with herself or even that she’d lied about it. How could he care about things like virtue and honesty at a time like this? His wife—his innocent little Elizabeth Crawley—had been in the middle of pleasuring herself.

  A thousand thoughts flew threw his mind. Aside from the fact that the idea of her touching herself made him randier than a cock in spring, he couldn’t get past the fact that she shouldn’t need to touch herself. That they were married, and she should be entitled to real pleasure whenever she wanted. Whenever he wanted.

  And damn it, she looked like an angel lying there in her white nightrail, with her golden hair sprawled upon the pillows in the firelight. A wanton little angel.

  As if suddenly aware that she was still partially bared to him, Beth snatched the hem of her gown and pulled it down over her, before grabbing the covers back and tucking them under her chin.

  No one said anything. They both stayed completely still, staring back at one another, clearly at a loss for what to do next. Should he follow his cock and climb into bed with her? Finish off what she’d started? Surely now was as good a time as any to consummate their marriage. She was primed by her own hand, and he was certainly ready.

  Or should he act the gentleman and leave her in peace? God, but he wished he hadn’t been raised properly.

  He gulped down self-hatred and backed away from the bed. Beth’s eyes held a hint of disappointment, or so he thought. He could have imagined it. He wasn’t exactly in his right mind just then.

  “Ahem...well, I can see you’re...busy.” He backed away slowly, suddenly unable to make eye contact. “So, goodnight.”

  ***

  The connecting panel slammed and Lizzie collapsed back onto her pillows, releasing all her breath is one giant whoosh. Her cheeks were still aflame and her heart raced as if it were the frontrunner at Ascot.

  What were you thinking, Elizabeth Prudence Crawley—no, Wetherby! She was all mixed up, confused and completely mortified. She knew nothing good could come from doing that, and she should have listened to her conscience. She should have heeded all the sermons she’d heard on self-pleasure and indulging base desires. Should have remembered that silly book she’d read on the dangers of onanism.

  Just as her pulse returned to normal, she saw Michael’s face in her mind and a fresh wave of humiliation came over her. What must he think of her now?

  She humphed, realizing she didn’t really know what he’d thought of her before and therefore had no basis for analysis. Well, whatever he thought before, his opinion of her must have been vastly diminished by his discovery.

  Perhaps she should explain. Tell him that she’d never done it before, that she was simply curious as to what it felt like. And what if he pries further?

  Lizzie shook her head with great determination. No, she couldn’t say anything. If he ever found out that he had been the impetus for her exploration, she would be humiliated. Humbled. And she was sure he’d walk around like a cock in a hen house if he knew that about her. That she found him desirable. That he had been the one to set her body aflame while she lay in bed. And while she ate and slept and bathed.

  Good heavens, she was becoming a wanton! She needed to think happy, wholesome thoughts. Thoughts that had nothing to do with her virile husband or the kiss he’d planted on her lips that morning or the way she imagined he would touch her, if she allowed him.

  Happy, wholesome, happy, wholesome...

  She chanted the words a few hundred more times before she finally fell asleep with thoughts of her husband’s fingers dipping into her and bringing her the greatest pleasure she’d ever known.

  Eight

  Lizzie opted to take breakfast in her room the next morning and thankfully, Michael didn’t force her to do otherwise. She needed time to regain her wits and set herself to rights before they set upon the second day of interviews. She could scarcely believe he’d caught her in the act. In the light of day, it seemed as if it had been a horrific dream. Oh, if only that were true. Then she might be able to face her husband with a shred of dignity. Just then, she wasn’t sure she would ever be able look him in the eye again.

  Eggs and a thick piece of bread dripping with butter stared up at her from a pink, flowered plate. It smelled delicious and Lizzie’s stomach rumbled, but she had the feeling she wouldn’t be able to keep her breakfast down that morning. Instead, she drank her tea slowly, wanting to delay the moment when she’d have to meet with Michael. How in the world would she survive sitting next to him all day without dying of embarrassment?

  Mrs. Kerr knocked lightly at her door and then entered without invitation. The woman eyed Lizzie’s still-full plate and clucked her tongue.

  “You’ll be nothing but skin and bones soon,” she said.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Kerr. I suppose I haven’t had much of an appetite lately.”

  A warm smile broke out on the woman’s lips, as if she knew something Lizzie didn’t. “Not to worry, dear. You’ll have your
appetite back in a wink. This phase doesn’t last but a month or two at most.”

  “A month or two?” Was the woman daft? What was she talking about?

  “That’s right,” Mrs. Kerr went on as she bustled about, tidying up the room. “I was sick as a dog with Maggie, but it passed quickly enough.”

  Maggie? Lizzie struggled to follow the vein of conversation, but she couldn’t. Her mind was still muddled from the night before, and this woman seemed to be speaking in a code that she clearly thought Lizzie would understand.

  “And goodness, but it was worth it. Maggie was the best thing to ever happen to us.” A shadow passed over the woman’s features and a frown replaced her formerly bright smile.

  Lizzie took the opportunity to ask for clarification. “Mrs. Kerr, who is Maggie?”

  “Why, my daughter, of course! Weren’t ye paying attention?”

  Realization practically slapped Lizzie in the face. “Oh, no! Mrs. Kerr, you thought...I mean, you think that me...and Michael...that we’re...”

  The housekeeper stopped her bustling and turned to Lizzie. “Well, of course, dearie. And I’ve a second sight about these things. Now, you just relax and I’ll come for ye when the master is ready to begin the interviews.”

  Mrs. Kerr ambled out of the room, and Lizzie stared after her in a state of utter shock. The woman thought she was pregnant. Pregnant! For heaven’s sake, she’d barely been kissed, let alone ravished! Unless her fingers held magical powers, she most certainly was not with child.

  But how was she to tell Mrs. Kerr that? She and Michael were man and wife, after all. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary that the woman assumed they’d consummated the marriage.

  However, they’d only been there three days now, married for eight. Surely the symptoms of pregnancy didn’t show up so quickly. Was the woman insinuating she and Michael had engaged in such activities before they’d been wed?

  Oh goodness, it was too much for her to think about now. She was groggy from too little sleep, and her hands shook with nerves as the minutes ticked away on the clock. Michael would be expecting her soon. Lizzie blew out a breath. Might as well get it over with.

  With that, she abandoned her now cold breakfast and left the room.

  ***

  Michael put down the letter he’d been reading from his brother and looked up to find Mrs. Kerr standing over the breakfast table.

  “Everything all right, Mrs. Kerr?” he asked, his brows raised in question.

  “Right as rain, milord,” she replied with a jaunty grin.

  “Wonderful!” Michael threw his napkin on the table and started to stand from his chair, but Mrs. Kerr stayed him with a hand.

  “Although—and I know this isn’t really any of my business—but I do think you ought to take extra special care with Lady Elizabeth.”

  Michael’s stomach plummeted to his toes. “Is something wrong? What’s happened? Is she all right?”

  “Fine, fine,” Mrs. Kerr chirped with a little laugh. “It’s nothing out of the ordinary, milord, but you won’t want to be taxing her with...well, you know.” She picked up his empty plate and moved to exit the room.

  “No, I don’t know.” Michael shot up from his seat to stop her.

  She turned to him with a sympathetic smile. “It’s not for me to say, Lord Michael. You’ll have to ask the missus if you want to know more. But don’t keep her too long today. The lady needs her rest.”

  Michael’s head spun with possibilities. What was the woman talking about? Was Beth ill? Why else would she need so much rest?

  “Ahem.”

  Michael turned to see his wife, looking the picture of good health, standing in the doorway of the dining room. Her golden locks had been partially swept into a coif atop her head, but much of it fell around her shoulders. In an instant, his mind flashed to the night before, to her lying in her bed, bared to the waist, staring up at him with those crystalline blue eyes. His voice caught momentarily, but he finally managed to greet her.

  “Good morning, Beth,” he said, studying her, trying to discern if she was well or not.

  “I figured you would want to get started as soon as you finished breakfast, but if you’re not ready, I can—”

  “No, no, I’m ready,” he assured her before striding towards the door.

  She took a step back, casting her eyes to the floor. Perhaps he should say something about last night. That there was nothing to be ashamed of, or that lots of people did it. Something to ease her embarrassment. Otherwise, this was going to be a very long day.

  “I wanted—”

  “You should know—”

  They both spoke at the same time and then sheepishly smiled at one another. Good God, what was wrong with him? He’d never been one to shy away from uncomfortable topics. She was his wife, after all, and he’d been the one to find her...indisposed. He needed to buck up and be the adult now.

  Michael took his wife’s chin in his hand and forced her to look at him. Damn, but that was a bad idea. She looked as if she might burst into tears at any moment, and he hated that.

  He was about to tell her there was nothing to be ashamed of, but decided to take another tactic. Instead, he lowered his head and kissed her. It was only a fleeting kiss, but when he pulled away, Beth had stopped breathing. Her lips were swollen and moist, her eyes wide.

  “I’m sorry for barging in on you last night,” he said, his face barely an inch from hers, his heart beating rapidly. “Obviously, if I had known—”

  “Please,” Beth breathed. “It’s all right. I would like to get on with the day, if you don’t mind.”

  Michael nodded, understanding that she wasn’t ready to talk about what had happened. “Yes, of course. And I promise not to keep you too long today. You will have plenty of time to rest, I promise.”

  He hoped his words might provoke her to tell him what was wrong, why Mrs. Kerr had insisted he not tax her, but she said nothing. They walked silently to the drawing room and took their respective places on the settee by the hearth. Mr. Kerr appeared moments later to announce the first of the day.

  “Miss Bonnie Cameron.”

  From behind him came a girl, not more than seventeen, Michael was sure, with dark red hair and startling green eyes. She was better dressed than anyone they’d interviewed thus far and carried herself in a manner beyond her years. She sat down in the seat across from them and gave a warm smile that revealed a row of perfect, white teeth.

  Michael knew instantly that he liked her, and he was certain his wife would too. She seemed the ideal person to tend to Beth as her ladies maid.

  ***

  Lizzie watched her husband as Bonnie sat down before them and primly folded her hands in her lap. A twinkle of adoration shown in Michael’s eyes, and Lizzie started at the sudden envy that came over her. He was taken with the girl. The girl. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen or seventeen, though she seemed rather precocious to Lizzie.

  Bonnie, indeed. Fitting, she supposed. She was rather pretty. Annoyingly so, if truth be known. But she was practically a child and it bothered Lizzie that Michael seemed so smitten with her. It made her wonder if he was the type to harass the hired help and go after girls who were considerably younger than he.

  Lizzie practically harrumphed aloud. What did it matter? It wasn’t as if she’d ever let him in her bed. She didn’t care what he did in his own.

  Turning her attention to the task at hand, she asked Bonnie to tell them about herself and her experience in servitude.

  “Well,” she said with an innocuous bat of her lashes, “I’ve not done much in the way of cleaning and such. I’m afraid I’d be at a loss in the position of a chambermaid. However, my mother taught me everything she knew about sewing. And I’m rather gifted with hair and such. I don’t have experience, other than helping my mother, but I daresay, if you haven’t got a personal maid, milady, I’d make a fine one for you.”

  Lizzie was about to protest that she needed an attendant with
experience when her husband slapped his knee, a silly grin on his face, and said, “Capital idea, don’t you think, darling?”

  Darling? “Ah, well...perhaps we should discuss this, in private.”

  “But, why? You heard her. She’s gifted with hair.” Michael looked at her as if she’d completely lost her mind to protest taking the girl on as her maid.

  Well, Lizzie would not be forced into taking Bonnie on just so he could have his way with her. “She is the first we’ve seen today, dearest, and you know I’m not one to make rash decisions.” Turning back to Bonnie, she said, “Please leave your information with Mr. Kerr on your way out and we will be in contact.”

  A pained expression broke out on the girl’s face. She visibly gulped, but she didn’t move.

  “Now, hold on a moment, Beth. Perhaps she could demonstrate her proficiency for you. Show you what she can do?”

  The girl nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, please! I promise I won’t let you down, milady.”

  Lizzie inhaled a sharp breath, knowing that if she said no now, she’d look like a shrew of the highest order. Both Michael and Bonnie waited for her response, their eyes wide and practically pleading. She hated both of them in that moment.

  “Fine,” she said finally, ringing the bell to summon Mrs. Kerr. “Mrs. Kerr will show you to the library where you will wait until we are finished here. Then you may arrange my hair in an evening style for dinner.”

  “Oh, thank you, milady! You won’t be disappointed.”

  Lizzie nodded her head in acknowledgement, her lips pursed in annoyance. She couldn't wait to be alone with her husband so she could strangle him.

  Mrs. Kerr arrived at the door moments later. "You rang, milady?"

  "I did. Mrs. Kerr, will you please see Miss Cameron to the library? She is to wait there until we are finished."

  The housekeeper's gaze shifted to the girl, and her eyes widened in an expression of disbelief. "My goodness," she breathed, but then said nothing more. She only stood there, staring.

  "Mrs. Kerr, are you all right?" Michael asked.