“I will.” He smiled faintly, stroking her cheek. His touch soothed the lingering soreness in the most magical way. “And try not to find any more men who want to marry you until I get back. Fending off your suitors is dashed exhausting.”
“I promise.” She knew that it was stupid to want to throw herself against him and beg him to stay.
He must have seen the distress she tried so hard to hide because he cradled her head in his palms. “I’ll be back in a few days. Then we’ve got the rest of our lives together.”
“I know,” she said, gallantly trying not to cry—and failing.
He saw how close she was to breaking. His expression softened and he gently ran his hands along her shoulders, lifting the collar of his coat so that it hugged high against her neck. The gesture’s unspoken tenderness only made her more tearful.
“Elias, unless you’re going to London in what’s left of your evening dress, you need to get changed now,” Hillbrook said from the doorway. He wore breeches and boots and a heavy greatcoat. A high-crowned beaver hat dangled from one hand.
“You have to go,” Marianne said hoarsely, raising her hands to Elias’s where they closed the coat at her throat to keep her warm. “Just make sure you come back.”
Frustration flashed in his eyes at this unsatisfactory parting. “Nothing could keep me away, darling.”
“Elias!”
Ignoring Hillbrook’s impatient summons, Elias leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was short but powerful, weighted with all the words he needed to say.
He drew away, staring at her as if imprinting her image on his memory. “Dream of me.”
“Always,” she whispered, but he was already gone.
Chapter Fourteen
* * *
Their wedding made it more difficult for Elias to enjoy a quiet minute with his new wife than courtship ever had. He’d hardly shared a private word with Marianne since returning from London late last night. By the time he entered the bedroom Sidonie and Jonas had assigned them, he was ready to explode with frustration.
That morning, he and Marianne had been married in Barstowe’s chapel. She’d chosen a pretty sky-blue gown, and Jonas had stood up in her absent father’s place. They’d returned to Ferney in brilliant sunshine for a spectacular breakfast. All day, happy people had surrounded the bride and groom. Happy people he cared about, but the company had soon lost its charm when all he wanted was to have his wife to himself.
Then he saw Marianne standing by the fire and she smiled with a welcome he’d waited his entire life to find. The day’s minor vexations melted away like snow in the summer sun.
“You’re so lovely,” he said in a hushed voice. “I don’t deserve you.”
A gold and vermillion dressing gown covered his nakedness. Given how edgy he felt, he wasn’t sure this was the wisest choice of clothing. Perhaps he should have pulled on a suit of armor.
She extended one slender hand in his direction. He was disgustingly pleased and proprietorial to catch the glint of her wedding band on the fourth finger. “I thought they’d never leave us. I’ve longed to be alone with you all day.”
Much as he relished it, he didn’t immediately accept her invitation. Instead he lingered to savor the moment, to etch it into his memory. He’d spent so long convinced she’d never marry him. This occasion needed its full due. When he was old, he’d remember the night he claimed Marianne Seaton as his. And he’d know that his life had been worthwhile.
His stumbling prais
e of her beauty had been inadequate. His wife looked like a goddess or a sensual angel. Her white satin nightdress clung to her luscious curves. The sleeve dipped back from her outstretched forearm, revealing the pale perfect skin and graceful wrist. Her lustrous hair, rich mink, flowed down her back.
She was the answer to every erotic fantasy. She looked pure and untouched, a pearl. He swallowed to shift the emotion crammed into his chest. He loved her so much.
He attempted to lighten the atmosphere. Tonight should be joyous, not weighted with past troubles. “Are you sure Sidonie isn’t hiding behind the curtains? No Genevieve under the bed? No Nell lurking in the dressing room?”
Her lips quirked. “They all left ten minutes ago.”
“What about Pen and Sophie?”
“Downstairs as far as I know.”
“I don’t want them pouncing when I kiss you,” he said, although he was overwhelmed at the effort his friends had made to turn this hurried wedding into a celebration. Harry and Sophie, James and Nell, Cam and Pen had all traveled miles to attend the ceremony. Sidonie and Jonas, with Richard and Genevieve’s help, had mounted a lavish party.
Marianne’s blue eyes were deeper than the ocean. “I thought you were glad to see your brother and sister.”