In Compromise with the Earl by Ava MacAdams

Chapter Sixteen

“Enough,” Oswald snapped. “Mother, what has gotten into you? Where is this coming from?”

“By the things I know about her family,” the Dowager said. “And I am ashamed that you would choose a lady who might bring more shame upon us.”

Oswald stepped forward and partially blocked Aphrodite from his mother’s line of sight. “And my last wife proved to be a paragon of virtue, I assume? The lady that came to me looking like a spotless lamb but was a wolf underneath? Moreover, you are judging Aphrodite on the sins of her father and that is unconscionable.”

The Dowager bristled. “Defend her all you want but I am telling you the truth. I will not credit this nonsense. You were to find a humble, modest lady, not one who will make matters worse.”

“And how do you know that?” Oswald was getting angry. “Mother, I know you feel obligated to look out for me after the rut I had dug myself into and while I do thank you, I sent you that letter to notify you, not to ask your permission. I am marrying Aphrodite, there is nothing more to it.”

Frowning, the Dowager took one sweeping look over the two and pinched her lips. “Mark my words, you will regret it.”

Oswald rested a hand on her shoulder while the Dowager stalked out of the room without a look back, but Aphrodite could not let her go without trying again. She pulled away from Oswald and rushed to meet her in the corridor and stopped her.

With a curse, Oswald followed her and stood at the doorway to watch and wait to see if anything would go wrong.

“Wait,” Aphrodite hurried to put herself in front of the Dowager. “Please stop.”

The Dowager did not look amused. “What do you want? Aside from tempting my son away from his common sense?”

He watched as she swallowed over the fear on her face. “I know that you have your reservations, but I assure you, I have no bad intentions for the Earl. I do care about him.”

“If you cared one whit about him you would not have accepted his marriage offer,” the Dowager scowled. “He does not need you.”

“Actually, I do,” Oswald said from the doorway. “For reasons that I know you will think ridiculous, but they are true. I realized that I do not need a timid wife, Mother. If I married someone without any spark inside, I would never remember the passion I once had for life. Lady Aphrodite has started to show me that again.”

“And by that do you mean bedsport?” the Dowager scoffed.

“No,” Oswald said evenly. “A part of me was still lingering in the past with Claire’s deceit. I kept using the dagger of love she had wielded against me to stab myself repeatedly. I thought my ability to care for another was poisoned, but it is not.”

“You could care for another who does live under a scandal,” the Dowager said. “And until she can prove it to me, I will not believe it.”

With her last words, she swept away and disappeared around the corner. Aphrodite let out a long sigh. “She will never like me, will she?”

“My mother is stuck in her ways and what she deems best for me,” Oswald said, tiredly. “Don’t be too appalled.”

Turning, she asked, “Did you ever want a timid wife?”

His eyes met and held hers. “I had not thought of marrying again at all, but as I examined myself, I realized at that no, I do not need a wife who will not open my eyes to new things or will be content to take a place behind me.”

She rested a hand on his chest. “What will we be then…equals?”

“Equals in our own right, as soon as we get the license in two days,” Oswald said. “But I fear staying at my Hall after our honeymoon in my townhome at Bath.”

“I don’t think there is much to fear,” Aphrodite laced her arms around his neck. “I’ve buffered more fiery darts, dismissive glares and disbelief than you can imagine. If I can surmount the image my father has cast over me, I can do this. It will be fine, Oswald.”

Brushing his lips across her forehead, he murmured, “I hope so.”

* * *

Two days later, clad in her a rose-gold silk dressing gown, Aphrodite paced the bedchamber at Lady Pandora’s Manor while Lydia watched. She cast an eye over the silver-blue wedding gown resting innocuously on her bed. The empire-style gown had a fine cream tulle overlaying it and lace embroidery about the hem and bodice completed the gown.

To others it was another dress, but donning it marked the end of an era and the start of another. Aphrodite had not truly imagined what marriage would be for her, though it always lingered in the back of her mind. Reaching for the bouquet of white roses Lady Pandora had made for her, she stroked the silky white petals.

“Are you worried?” Lydia asked.

Instead of replying, Aphrodite pressed her nose to the flowers and inhaled the sweet floral scent. Putting the bouquet down, she forced a smile, “Yes. All this time I knew, in the back of my mind, that I would be married, but I never truly thought about it.”

“Are you worried about the ceremony or the wedding night?” Lydia asked. “If it’s the wedding night you’re dreading, mayhap you may ask His Lordship to wait a while—”

“No, no, I want that,” Aphrodite blurted then, suddenly realizing what she had said and broke off with her cheeks going fiery red. “What concerns me is the living situation. His mother is not particularly fond of me.”

“I would hope that His Lordship will be a buffer between you two?” Lydia suggested.

“I know he will,” Aphrodite said while eyeing the ormolu clock on the mantle. “But will he be able to do so every time? I don’t think so. I must find a way to win the Dowager over and prove to her that I am not as she expected me to be and that I will never be like her late daughter-in-law.”

The clock chimed on the mantle and Aphrodite stood. “We can talk about this later on, but it time to dress.”

* * *

They exited through the open French doors into the garden and to the gazebo where the wedding was being held; scores of unlit lanterns were dotted on well-groomed green grass, while a large stone fountain splashed in the middle of the four-way cobblestone walk and the gazebo rested in the farthest corner.

It was going to be a private ceremony with most of the Manor’s guests away from the gardens or any near vicinity for the next hour. Lady Pandora was the only one with them, as she had nominated herself to be Aphrodite’s witness.

With Lydia trailing behind her, she looked to see Oswald standing with Lord Easton beside him. Oswald was mostly a block of black, in his dark suit but his silver-blue waistcoat stood out much like his eyes. She did not think he could be more attractive than he was right at this moment.

The priest was younger than she had imagined, with blond hair and kind blue eyes—but he was also familiar. Aphrodite swore she had seen him before, but where? As she stepped in, it struck her; that day at the shuttlecock grounds, he had been there with Oswald.

Are they friends? Related?

“Lady Aphrodite Newfield, Earl Oswald Bristol, my greetings,” the priest nodded. “His Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury had given me, Leonard Bristol, the pleasure of presiding over these proceedings,” the man smiled. “And yes, My Lady, I can see the questions in your eyes, I am Lord Tennesley’s cousin.”

“I see,” Aphrodite shifted in her slippers and gave Oswald a warm smile.

She felt her nerves ease as the ceremony began with the prayers, and when she had to speak her vows she said them calmly, knowing that she would walk out of there today as Countess Tennesley.

“Oswald Alexander Bristol, wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

With their hands clasped, Oswald said the binding words, “I will.”

Handsome, intelligent, decent, brave, but scarred. I supposed I’m scarred too.

When the priest reiterated the order, Aphrodite smiled. “I will.”

Facing the two witnesses. “Will you who have witnessed these promises do all in your power to uphold these two persons in their marriage?”

“We will,” Lady Pandora and Lord Easton intoned.

The rings were brought in and while she slid Oswald’s thick band onto his finger, she gave him a warm, promising look, silently swearing to uphold her vows. It seemed that Oswald might have gotten an inkling as to what her gaze meant because his eyes darkened with seriousness as well.

Priest Bristol joined their right hands. “It is my pleasure to pronounce you man and wife. Those whom God has joined together let no one put asunder. You may kiss the bride.”

Oswald gently tipped her head up and her lashes fluttered closed as he brushed her lips across hers. The mere touch made memories of the sensual, scintillating kisses flare up and a pronounced bereft feeling twist her chest a little. But she consoled herself; the honeymoon would make the feeling a distant memory.

She pulled away with a smile. “A wonderful day, don’t you think Earl Tennesley?”

“I’d have to agree with you, Countess Tennesley,” he replied, tucking a stray stand of her hair away from her face.

Pulling away from him, Aphrodite met Lady Pandora’s placid gaze. Her lips were faintly turned up at the corners, but Aphrodite knew her friend was not completely happy. Six people had attended her wedding in total. Not one person from her family nor Oswald’s was present, and surprisingly, Aphrodite did not mind.

“Do you want to stay for the breakfast?” Oswald whispered in her ear. The desire to sample the cake and champagne melted away like butter under the sun when she saw the dark hunger in his eyes. Everything about him was raw heat and restrained power.

Mesmerized by his look, she replied, “I think Lady Pandora has it handled. I need to talk to her about it.”

With a soft nod, Oswald turned to his cousin and Lord Easton and Aphrodite went to sit by Lady Pandora. “I know you’re still not pleased, but understand, it might have come about in the most unorthodox way, but I am happy with the result.”

Lady Pandora’s smile was still slight. “I know you are, I just cannot believe it ended this way.”

“No, it starts this way,” Aphrodite replied. “And I only have you to thank. By the by, Oswald and I will not be attending the breakfast. It might be best to be on our way.”

“I understand,” Lady Pandora replied. “I would leave as quickly as I could if I were in your shoes.”

“Thank you,” Aphrodite stood. She moved off to Oswald’s side and saw his cousin pat him on the shoulder.

“Second time around, Oswald for you and me.” Leo said. “I hope I won’t have to preside over your third wedding.”

Paused in her tracks, Aphrodite stared at then. Leo married Oswald’s first wife as well. No wonder they are close.

Acting as if she had not heard them, she came to the two. “Priest Bristol, thank you.”

He bowed. “No, no, it’s my pleasure. Oswald has told me about your plans to leave soon. Have a safe journey, both of you.”

As he moved off, Oswald said. “Since we’re done here, I will summon the readied carriage and we will be on our way,” Oswald replied.

“Just allow me time to don a carriage dress and my coat,” she brushed over his chest. “And you should do the same. I don’t think wedding attire would be too comfortable to travel in.”

He shot a look to his jacket. “I suppose.”

Unbidden, a giggle left her mouth. “Are you so determined to leave you would destroy a suit for it?”

“Yes,” Oswald shrugged.

Amused, Aphrodite turned to the door. “I’ll be down soon.”

* * *

Fifteen minutes to her parting word, she met Oswald at the front doorway of the Manor, clad in a maroon carriage dress and light coat; he was dressed smartly in tan trousers and jacket, a dark-blue waistcoat and a white shirt. His cravat was missing, and a beaver hat sat rakishly on his head.

She tapped his clavicle. “Ready to do away with social rules, are you?”

“I don’t want to feel strangled or halfway decapitated when I do not need to be,” he replied, while resting a hand on the small of her back. “Please, let us go.”

They descended the flat steps and he helped her into the carriage, before joining her inside. With a quick rap to the roof, the driver spurred the horses on. Oswald plucked the hat off and dropped it on the seat next to him. “Do you think your father had received my contract?”

“Even if he did, there is not much he can say about it,” Aphrodite said. “Anything less than Duke Strathmore’s golden offer is a disappointment to him. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“We have two posting inns to pass through before getting to Bath,” Oswald said.

Cocking her head, she asked, “And why do you state it with such heavy tones?”

“Because…” he reached for the velvet curtain and dropped it before reaching for her and tugging her onto his lap, “because we will not couple until we are there. Do you know how narrow those beds are? Utterly unfit to have a long night of lovemaking.”

She shivered under his touch, and leaned her cheek into his large, callused palm. “How long?”

“Until dawn,” he replied sultrily, while sliding a hand under her nape and using his thumb to swipe a heated streak down the pulsing point in her neck. “Might be taxing for an innocent.”

“I suppose the response for that is to teach me,” Aphrodite replied, firming her hands around his face. “Kiss me.”

Their mouths met, hungry, hot, and open. With a groan, he sank his tongue past her lips, and Aphrodite knew for certain that she would not rest until they were one—until she was his.

A soft moan escaping her did in his darkest fantasies. His drugging cologne filled her nose and brought on a craving she had never known. Sinking her fingers into his hair, the kiss turned ravenous. And when he cupped her backside and brought her flush on his chest, she was lost to anything and everything around them.

When the need to take a breath gripped her burning lungs, Aphrodite pulled away but kept her hold on his face. “Not that I am complaining, but this ardor. Why haven’t you shown this before?”

“You cannot show something that did not exist before,” he replied. “The moment I kissed you in the lake, something began to change and that night you came to my bed, you resurrected the passion I had thought dead.”

A hand slid up her back, before his thumb coasted over her rib and brushed the side of her breast. The touch, almost accidental, still burned through her clothing and a soft, involuntary gasp left her lips.

When he possessed her lips this time, the kiss was needy and ruthless, but he broke it to kiss down the smooth slope of her throat. The scrape of his almost-invisible stubble was oddly arousing and heady as he licked his way up to her delicate jaw and then her earlobe.

Capturing the flesh in his lips and curling his tongue around the sweet curve of her ear he suckled, and gripping his shoulders with almost bloodless fingers, she began to writhe against him.

“I won’t take you now,” he growled into her ear as his hands found the row of buttons at the back of her dress. “But I crave touching you. We’re alone, indulge me for a while.”

One by one, he popped the buttons and eased both shoulders down. His gaze was piercing, giving her every chance to say no—but she didn’t. She wanted to be daring, to break the rules, even once, and when he cupped her soft, firm breasts through the silk chemise, she groaned. His touch was Heaven. He found the hard peaks, rubbed them through the thin layer of silk.

She was panting now, her eyes closed, her hands gripping his sleeves. With a growl of pure want, he pulled the chemise away and lowering his head, licked the sensitive crevice between her heaving mounds before capturing a rosy nipple, flushed with color and ripe as a berry into his mouth. He drew his thumb across the other puckered peak, and her eyes flew open.

Resting on his lap, her hips undulated, seeking, longing for more pressure. She recalled his lips on her core, the mere memory of his tongue dancing over her intimate flesh, sent a thunderbolt of arousal straight to her core. She wanted it again but knew it impossible in such tight confines.

“What do you want, Sprite?” he nosed at her ear. “Tell me.”

Sinking her fingers into his hair, she said, “I want you to touch me, there. Send my mind soaring again.”