their marriage that she had fallen totally, blindingly, madly in love with Philip. How difficult it had been during their lovemaking not to whisper words of love. How she longed to say I love you to the man who lay beside her at night, the man who captured her heart.
But she could not make such a declaration without forcing a similar--insincere--one from him. Hearing those words upon his lips would make her the happiest woman in the three kingdoms, but she only wanted to hear them if they truly came from his heart.
Would that day ever come, she wondered morosely.
The discovery that she loved Philip uncovered memories buried beneath the years of time. She now recalled with the clarity of clear spring water the first time she saw him. She remembered distinctly that she was four, and she had blurted out, "I'm going to marry Charles's friend. He's so handsome, he must be a prince."
Mama had told her he wasn't a prince but would be the closest thing to it when he became a duke. As a little girl, she fancied herself growing up to be the Duchess of Aldridge. But as he grew into manhood, the gap between him and the little girl she had been grew wider.
Because she was far too drab to entice a rake like him and because he was gone from England by the time she came out, all her girlish affections for him had been suppressed. Until now.
Now that old flame had ignited with more potency than she had ever dreamed possible.
She knew they were utterly compatible. Their backgrounds were similar. They held each other in high regard. And their physical intimacy brought each of them to quivering masses of pleasure.
A pity man did not have to be in love in order to slake his physical needs, needs she'd been told that men experienced much more acutely than women.
Though she certainly held Philip's affection now, she knew he was not in love with her. Fortunately, she had a lifetime in which to do everything in her power to secure his love.
If only she could. If only she were a more patient person. Or a more beautiful woman.
She had thought her wantonness that first night in his arms was due to the Madeira she was unaccustomed to drinking. But under the light of day whilst cold sober, she longed to feel his arms around her, to feel him stroking her intimately, to feel herself writhing beneath her husband's glorious body.
During those blissful days she could forget there was a world outside the boundaries of Glenmont. It was only she and the man she loved. During those days they had seldom spent a moment apart.
All of that would end when they returned to London. Duty, friends, perhaps even other women (she thought, a rent to her heart) would claim him. Was there anything she could do to prevent that from happening?
She would be an exemplary wife. His needs, his interests would always come first. It would be difficult not to cling to him, but she knew that clinging vines destroyed their sustenance.
During the carriage ride back to London, he ignored her as he read through the thick pages of the tax bill. She must not be jealous of his duty. He had set it all aside during their honeymoon to shower her with attention.
Such attentions were sure to stop now that they were returning to the capital.
Once the foul skies of London came into view, she interrupted his reading. "Pray, my dearest, before we arrive at Aldridge House you must tell me about the servants there."
He put the bill aside. "You only need to concern yourself with Barrow, who must be in his eighties. I am the third Duke of Aldridge he has served."
"Surely you're wealthy enough to pension him off."
He shook his head as if in exasperation. "I tried. The Aldridges are like his own family. He wouldn't have anything to live for were he not to serve us. He told me as long as he could walk, he wanted to keep serving."
"If I recall correctly, he can only barely walk," she said with levity.
"Right you are! He's quite elderly."
"And his hearing?"
"I think perhaps it is not
But she could not make such a declaration without forcing a similar--insincere--one from him. Hearing those words upon his lips would make her the happiest woman in the three kingdoms, but she only wanted to hear them if they truly came from his heart.
Would that day ever come, she wondered morosely.
The discovery that she loved Philip uncovered memories buried beneath the years of time. She now recalled with the clarity of clear spring water the first time she saw him. She remembered distinctly that she was four, and she had blurted out, "I'm going to marry Charles's friend. He's so handsome, he must be a prince."
Mama had told her he wasn't a prince but would be the closest thing to it when he became a duke. As a little girl, she fancied herself growing up to be the Duchess of Aldridge. But as he grew into manhood, the gap between him and the little girl she had been grew wider.
Because she was far too drab to entice a rake like him and because he was gone from England by the time she came out, all her girlish affections for him had been suppressed. Until now.
Now that old flame had ignited with more potency than she had ever dreamed possible.
She knew they were utterly compatible. Their backgrounds were similar. They held each other in high regard. And their physical intimacy brought each of them to quivering masses of pleasure.
A pity man did not have to be in love in order to slake his physical needs, needs she'd been told that men experienced much more acutely than women.
Though she certainly held Philip's affection now, she knew he was not in love with her. Fortunately, she had a lifetime in which to do everything in her power to secure his love.
If only she could. If only she were a more patient person. Or a more beautiful woman.
She had thought her wantonness that first night in his arms was due to the Madeira she was unaccustomed to drinking. But under the light of day whilst cold sober, she longed to feel his arms around her, to feel him stroking her intimately, to feel herself writhing beneath her husband's glorious body.
During those blissful days she could forget there was a world outside the boundaries of Glenmont. It was only she and the man she loved. During those days they had seldom spent a moment apart.
All of that would end when they returned to London. Duty, friends, perhaps even other women (she thought, a rent to her heart) would claim him. Was there anything she could do to prevent that from happening?
She would be an exemplary wife. His needs, his interests would always come first. It would be difficult not to cling to him, but she knew that clinging vines destroyed their sustenance.
During the carriage ride back to London, he ignored her as he read through the thick pages of the tax bill. She must not be jealous of his duty. He had set it all aside during their honeymoon to shower her with attention.
Such attentions were sure to stop now that they were returning to the capital.
Once the foul skies of London came into view, she interrupted his reading. "Pray, my dearest, before we arrive at Aldridge House you must tell me about the servants there."
He put the bill aside. "You only need to concern yourself with Barrow, who must be in his eighties. I am the third Duke of Aldridge he has served."
"Surely you're wealthy enough to pension him off."
He shook his head as if in exasperation. "I tried. The Aldridges are like his own family. He wouldn't have anything to live for were he not to serve us. He told me as long as he could walk, he wanted to keep serving."
"If I recall correctly, he can only barely walk," she said with levity.
"Right you are! He's quite elderly."
"And his hearing?"
"I think perhaps it is not
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