Love and Marriage Read online

  Humbly waved a pudgy hand. “You are bound together. Would the years not pass more pleasantly with affection between the two of you?”

  Adam battled back the vivid images that threatened to rise to mind. Images of Addy’s countenance lighting with happiness when he entered the room. The two of them seated by the fire discussing their day. Addy in his bed with her arms open.

  Such thoughts could only lead to disappointment. And in the end, bitterness.

  Far better to accept what was his and make the best of it.

  “For now I would settle for a measure of contentment,” he said firmly.

  The Vicar abruptly raised his glass. “Then that is what we shall strive for. Into battle, my son.”

  Chapter Seven

  Addy was miserable.

  The slippers that until tonight had fitted perfectly now pinched her toes. The lace of her rose gown made her skin itch and the clips holding her raven curls were giving her a headache.

  Even the lovely aromas drifting from the supper room were making her nose twitch in distaste.

  Absurd, really.

  The elegant soiree was precisely the sort of gathering that Addy enjoyed the most.

  Unlike the previous ball, the townhouse was only modestly filled, with enough room to comfortably converse and move from one group to another. There was also a pleasantly relaxed atmosphere that displayed none of the usual spiteful gossip or fierce competition to outwit one another.

  But while her host and hostess had been warmly delighted to meet her, and the other guests too polite to reveal their curiosity at the stranger in their midst, Addy was far from enjoying herself.

  Rather than mingling with the others and becoming acquainted with the numerous young ladies scattered about the room, she discovered herself standing in a far corner.

  Worse, she realized her narrowed gaze was unable to leave the tall, dark form of her husband.

  Perhaps not so surprising, she told herself with an unmistakable twinge of annoyance.

  From the moment they had swept into the room he had been besieged by a bevy of beautiful ladies. No, not besieged, she silently corrected. Mauled.

  Her eyes narrowed a fraction further as she noted the delicate blonde that currently clung to one arm while a Titan-haired, full-bodied widow tenaciously sank her claws into the other.

  They appeared to be a pair of ornaments that had permanently attached themselves to his side.

  Not that Adam seemed distressed at their forward manner, she seethed. In truth he appeared infuriatingly content to laugh at their witty comments, to lean downward to whisper softly in their ears, and watch in fascination as they batted their lashes and pouted their sultry lips.

  It was a sickening display. Utterly shameless.

  For nearly half an hour she had awaited Adam to signal his distress. But in all that time he never once attempted to free himself from their grasp. There were no desperate glances about the room to plead for silent rescue. No polite hints that he would rather be in a pit of hot tar than captured by rabid females. Rather he appeared remarkably satisfied with his lot.

  He also appeared to have forgotten her very existence.

  Wiggling her toes, Addy cursed her pinching slippers, the itchy lace, the evil hair clips, and her suddenly unpredictable husband.

  How was she suppose to enjoy the soiree with such annoyances?

  As if sensing her simmering temper, Mr. Humbly suddenly appeared at her side, bringing with him two glasses of champagne and his soothing smile.

  “Ah, Addy. I wondered where you had disappeared to.”

  Attempting to hide her discomfort, Addy forced her lips to curve in what she hoped was a smile.

  “Are you enjoying your evening, Mr. Humbly?”

  “Very much. So much nicer to be able to breathe and not have one’s toes crushed by large matrons.” He shot her a rather wicked glance. “Of course, I do miss the monkey.”

  Addy couldn’t prevent a small chuckle. The Vicar was such a dear man.

  “Perhaps Lord Umberly will attend. He is said to go everywhere with a parrot upon his shoulder.”

  “Ah, a treat indeed.” He held out one of the glasses. “I brought you some champagne.”

  “Thank you.” Addy took a small sip of the golden bubbles, but they landed heavily upon her coiled stomach.

  “I pray that you do not intend to hover in the corner all evening, my dear.”

  She instinctively shied from his accusation. It smacked far too closely of cowardice.

  “I am not hovering in the corner.”

  Humbly pointedly glanced about their remote location. “No?”

  Addy gave a small sniff. “I am merely enjoying watching the various guests.”

  “Forgive me, my dear, but when I approached you did not appear to be particularly enjoying yourself. Indeed, you looked as if you had just bit into an unripe grape.”

  An unripe grape, indeed, she seethed. His toes did not ache. His skin did not itch. He did not have clips pricking his scalp or a husband being devoured by a group of harpies.

  “That is absurd.”

  “Perhaps,” he murmured, although there was a distinct twitch to his lips. “What do you think of our host?”

  She lifted a vague shoulder. “Both Mr. and Mrs. Bates are very gracious.”

  “Yes. I understand Mr. Bates is an old friend of Adam. They seem very dissimilar, but then opposites often are attracted to one another.”

  Addy had been surprised herself to discover that Mr. Bates was a large, extroverted gentleman with a ready laugh. Not at all like Adam.

  Perhaps Mr. Humbly had a point. The differences between the two might easily have drawn them together. Dark and light. A pity the same notion did not seem to have a similar effect between a husband and wife.

  “Yes, I suppose.”

  “And I believe that is Mr. Bates’s sister with Adam, is it not?”

  Addy’s teeth ground together as her gaze shifted to the tiny blonde plastered against her husband.

  “I believe so.”

  “She is very lovely.”

  “She is passable in an insipid manner.”

  “No doubt she has been acquainted with Adam since they were both young.”

  Addy thought of Mrs. Hall’s warnings of how the maiden had pursued Adam for years. Her hands clenched.

  “I really could not say. Adam has never spoke of Mr. Bates or his sister.”

  Not appearing to notice her catty tone, Humbly studied the trio across the room.

  “I wonder who the beautiful woman with the Titan hair is?”

  “Mrs. Wilton,” Addy retorted in clipped tones. She had detested the woman on sight. “She is a widow.”

  “Ah. She also seems to be a close acquaintance of Adam.”

  Close? She had practically crawled on top of him.

  “Yes.”

  “Shall we join them?”

  “No,” Addy swiftly refused. “I would not wish to intrude.”

  “Intrude?” Humbly questioned in puzzlement.

  Addy’s features unknowingly hardened.

  “Adam is clearly enjoying himself. I do not believe that I have ever seen him so delighted.”

  “Well, it is only polite to enjoy oneself at such an event,” the Vicar murmured, not appearing to notice the outrageous antics of the two women.

  “It appears Adam agrees with you,” she said dryly.

  “Addy, what a delightful surprise,” a male voice intruded into their conversation.

  With a faint sense of dread Addy turned to discover Lord Barclay standing at her side. He was as elegant as ever in his brilliant crimson coat with his golden hair shimmering in the candlelight. A gentleman that would trip the heart of any lady.

  But Addy was in no mood to have her heart tripped. Nor did she desire to bandy words with a skilled rake.

  Not when she needed to keep a close watch on those treacherous jades.

  “Good evening, my lord,” she forced herself to murmu
r politely.

  “And Vicar Humbly.” Lord Barclay swept a bow in the direction of her companion.

  “My lord.” Humbly performed his own awkward bow, then straightening he flashed Addy a gentle smile. “If you will excuse me I believe that I shall seek out the supper room.”

  Lord Barclay raised his quizzing glass to watch the older gentleman amble away, his handsome features set in mocking lines.

  “Gads, I believe the old fool should give the supper room an occasional miss,” he drawled. “He grows more fat each occasion I see him.”

  Addy grew rigid at the unkind words. She could never abide those who poked fun at others.

  “Mr. Humbly is a very kind and decent gentleman. He is also a guest in my house.”

  Swiftly realizing he had erred in his strategy, Lord Barclay summoned his powerful charm.

  “Forgive me. I suppose he is a good enough sort, at least for a vicar. He possesses the sense not to preach at one or constantly frown in disapproval.”

  Addy was far from appeased. “I find him a delightful companion.”

  “Enough of Humbly.” The nobleman waved an impatient hand. “I am far more interested in you. How glad I am that Foley convinced me to join him for this evening. I presumed it would be deadly dull, but now I find myself in debt to my persuasive friend.”

  “Indeed?”

  “Yes. To think I have been given yet another opportunity to gaze upon your beauty. It seems I am uncommonly fortunate.”

  “Very pretty,” she muttered.

  “You do not believe that I am sincere?” he demanded, stepping close enough for his sleeve to brush the bare skin of her arm. Ridiculously Addy felt no more than irritation at his proximity. There were certainly none of the searing tremors that Adam could create with a mere glance lately. Odd, considering Lord Barclay was precisely the sort of gentleman she had always thought she preferred. “I assure you that I was quite disappointed when we were so rudely interrupted upon the last occasion.”

  Addy cast him a wary gaze, wondering if he were deliberately attempting to remind her of the embarrassing scene between herself and Adam.

  “I believe we had come to the end of our conversation.”

  “No, Addy, do not speak of endings,” he protested. “This is only a beginning.”

  “A beginning of what?” she asked bluntly.

  He slowly smiled. “Whatever you desire.”

  She gave a shake of her head. “I hope you have not forgotten that I am a married woman?”

  He flinched, lifting a dramatic hand to his heart. “How could I forget such a ghastly tragedy? Still your usually tenacious husband appears to be adequately entertained for the moment. Why should you not seek your own pleasure? Come with me to the gardens.”

  Returning her attention to Adam, Addy sucked in a sharp breath. Mrs. Wilton had actually placed one hand on his chest to lightly stroke the lapel of his coat.

  “Addy.”

  The buzz of an unwelcome male voice in her ear made her impatiently turn toward her companion.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  A golden brow arched at her flashing black gaze. “I asked if you would join me for a turn in the garden.”

  “No. No, thank you.”

  His gaze slowly narrowed, clearly sensing the source of her prickly irritation.

  “I thought you had more pride than to stand here like a neglected wallflower, Addy.”

  He managed to say precisely the wrong thing and Addy retreated behind a wall of icy disapproval. She did not need this man telling her that she was acting like a nodcock. She was quite intelligent enough to reason that out all on her own.

  “If you will excuse me, I believe I shall join Mr. Humbly.”

  With her nose high in the air, Addy swept away. Neglected wallflower, indeed, she silently seethed.

  The devil take all gentlemen.

  And while he was at it, he could have overly forward minxes who clearly had no business attending soirees if they couldn’t keep their claws off other women’s husbands.

  Blast it all.

  * * *

  It was well past two in the morning when Adam finished reading his latest notes from the War Department.

  He could not deny a flare of guilt at neglecting his duties. Although he was merely a consultant and not directly involved in the final decisions that determined the course of the war, he knew that his word carried a great deal of weight. They depended upon his insight and years of study of battle strategies. They also depended on his firm refusal to become embroiled in the tedious political factions that created such discord among those who should be united.

  And yet for all his sensible understanding that he was needed by his country, he did not completely regret the time he had devoted to his wife.

  A faint smile curved his lips as he made his way from his study.

  There had been no mistake that Addy had been thoroughly and utterly furious earlier this evening. Standing across the room she had never allowed her heated gaze to stray from the sight of Mrs. Wilton and Miss Bates as they had vied for his attention. Not even the appearance of that damnable Lord Barclay had been able to ease her annoyance.

  It had been worth the irritation of having the two women flagrantly attempting to seduce him. It had even been worth devoting an entire evening to mindless chatter and shallow flirtations.

  Surely Addy could not be so obviously angered without feeling something for him? Even if it was just possession.

  Yes, he told himself as he started down the hall, it had been a profitable evening.

  Heading for the stairs, Adam had passed by the closed door of the library when he noticed a faint glow of light.

  Wondering who the devil could be up at such an hour he shoved open the door and stepped into the room. His surprise only deepened when he caught sight of Addy seated in a wing chair attired in nothing more than a sheer robe with her glorious hair woven into a simple braid.

  His gaze narrowed as the dancing light from the fire played over her body, revealing a warm hint of the beauty beneath that robe.

  A hungry, dangerous heat swept through his body at the sight of her lush curves.

  He should leave, he told himself as the muscles of his groin began to stir. His need to lay with his wife was growing to a nearly painful ache. Only the inner determination to slowly and thoroughly seduce Addy until she begged for his touch kept him from sweeping her into his arms and taking her to his bed for the next week. Or perhaps the next month. There would be no more nights of her lying beneath him with stiff martyrdom.

  Taking a step backward Adam was abruptly halted from his strategic retreat when Addy turned to regard him with a startled gaze.

  “Adam.”

  More or less trapped, Adam determinedly reined in his fierce desire and forced himself to move toward the center of the room. Surely he could conduct a pleasant conversation with his wife without tugging her onto the carpet and drowning in her sweetness?

  “What are you doing up at this hour, Addy?”

  She gave a vague shrug, her fingers toying with a ribbon upon her robe.

  “I could not sleep.”

  “I saw the light beneath the door and feared that Mrs. Hall had forgotten to snuff out the candles.” He moved closer, attempting to ignore the unmistakable silhouette of her body beneath the sheer material. “Is something troubling you?”

  “No, of course not.” She made a poor attempt at a smile. “I was just feeling rather restless.”

  A sudden flare of triumph rushed through Adam. Of course. She was still troubled by the events of the evening. Perhaps Humbly was not thoroughly noddy after all.

  “Are you certain?” he probed with seeming innocence. “You were very quiet on the way home.”

  “Was I?”

  “Yes. As if you had something upon your mind. Did Lord Barclay say anything to upset you?”

  She gave a startled blink. “We spoke only briefly.”

  “Well, I could not help but n
otice that you left him quite abruptly and that he had a very petulant expression upon his countenance.”

  Without warning the dark eyes narrowed. “I am surprised that you managed to notice anything at all.”

  Adam sternly controlled his quivering lips. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You seemed very preoccupied,” she retorted in a tone that could only be described as snippy.

  “I was merely keeping myself entertained, as you requested,” he said mildly. “It was my understanding that you did not wish me to bother you during such events.”

  A faint color touched her cheeks. “Yes, well, you were certainly being entertained.”

  “Addy, you are not jealous, are you?” he demanded.

  There was a sharp silence as her eyes widened. It was obvious that the thought she might actually be jealous did not sit well with Addy.

  “I am merely astonished that supposedly well-bred ladies would behave in such a shocking manner.”

  “Are you referring to Mrs. Wilton?”

  He could almost hear her teeth grind.

  “Her and Miss Bates. They were practically standing atop you.”

  Adam gave an inward shiver at the memory. Although he possessed enough natural vanity to appreciate being admired by a beautiful woman, he did not enjoy being battled for by two shallow, decidedly greedy vixens who viewed him as little more than a wealthy prize.

  Even now his nose wrinkled at the clouds of perfume that had choked the air and the sharp talons that had dug into his arms.

  “Surely you exaggerate, my dear?”

  “Do you deny that they were flirting outrageously?” she demanded in a dangerous voice.

  He met her gaze squarely. “No more outrageously than Lord Barclay flirts with you.”

  Her mouth opened then closed then opened once again before she managed to speak. Adam fiercely hoped that she did feel a measure of the same discomfort he had felt at seeing her with the golden haired lecher.

  “I thought that they made an embarrassing spectacle of themselves,” she at last muttered.

  “Perhaps it is my turn to ask if you trust me,” he charged softly.

  She held his gaze for a long moment, then without warning she rose from the chair and paced toward the darkened windows. Adam caught his breath at the graceful sway of her hips. He could almost feel his hands running along those soft curves.