Reckless Angel by Jane Feather

fire, a book upon his knees. For a man on his wedding night, he seemed very relaxed to Will. And Henrietta was behaving as if nothing momentous had occurred in her life. It seemed to Will that the burden of recognizing this marriage as fact had fallen to him, and he did not know quite how to deal with it. Playing backgammon with the bride as the night grew late did not strike him as appropriate.
    â€œNay,” he said, getting to his feet. “’Tis late, and I’m awearied. You should be too.” A pointed stare accompanied the latter declaration.
    Henrietta frowned. “I do not feel particularly weary. I expect ’tis because I lay long abed this morning.”
    â€œWell, I am going to bed,” Will said firmly. “So I’ll bid ye good-night. Good night, sir.”
    â€œBut you will see him in a minute—” began Henrietta, then stopped, a fiery blush mounting to the roots of her hair. She lowered her eyes to the board and became very busy with the pieces.
    â€œGood night, Will,” Daniel said calmly. The door closed on Will and he shut his book with some deliberation, watching Henrietta, who still sat absorbed withthe draughtsmen. Her head was bent, exposing the delicate, vulnerable column of her neck above the deep lawn collar and white neckerchief of her dark blue gown.
    â€œHenrietta?”
    â€œYes.” She turned her head to look at him, her eyes very large.
    â€œI think you should perhaps follow Will’s example. We will have a long ride tomorrow and must make an early start.” He smiled gently.
    Her tongue moistened suddenly dry lips, but she rose obediently.
    â€œI will come to you in a little while,” he said. A jerky nod was the only sign she gave of having heard him as she hastened from the room.
    Daniel stared into the fire for long moments. It was his duty to consummate this marriage, but he was not ready to father children on that slight body, not after what successive pregnancies had done to Nan. She had been sixteen when he married her and was dead at twenty-one, worn out with the carrying and delivering of children. He would not permit that to happen to Henrietta. In a year perhaps she would conceive an heir, but until then he would have to take certain precautionary measures—measures that had not occurred to the lustily eager young man he had been.
    How much did she know about her conjugal duties? Nan had been completely ignorant, and he had been not much better. But they had learned together, after the first few fumbling awkwardnesses. He smiled in reminiscence. At least he could bring Henrietta the benefits of his experience and hopefully ensure that the loss of her virginity would not be unnecessarily painful.
    Henrietta was trembling as if in the grip of an ague as she undressed and released her hair from its braided coronet. It fell down her back in a shining, corn silk-colored cascade, rippling beneath the strokes of her brush as she tried to achieve equilibrium with the accustomed rituals of bedtime. But questions roiled inher anxious brain. This was not, after all, an ordinary bedtime and the accustomed rituals were perhaps not appropriate. Should she take off her smock and get into bed naked? Should she put on her nightcap? Should she blow out the candle? When would he come? Would he still be dressed, or would he come to her in his shirt?
    Deciding on compromise, she kept her smock on but left her nightcap off, then climbed onto the high feather mattress, pulled the sheet up to her chin, and sat gazing at the door with apprehensive eyes.
    Daniel came in carrying a candle that he set on the mantel before turning to the bed. “Oh, you poor little elf,” he said impulsively as she offered a tremulous smile that did nothing to disguise her apprehension. “There is nothing to fear.” He came and sat on the bed, reaching up to brush her hair away from her face, allowing the silken tresses to slip slowly through his