Chapter Seven
September 10, 1818
Somewhere between London and Derbyshire
They’d been married for four and twenty hours. John still couldn’t wrap his head around that fact. He had a wife. For better or for worse, he was responsible for another person for the rest of his life.
What the devil do I do now?
Their wedding night had been spent at a posting inn, for he and Caroline had left for Derbyshire shortly after the wedding luncheon to make use of the light. He’d given her the bed in the room, while he’d bunked on the floor with a pallet of blankets. It hadn’t been the most comfortable of nests or how he’d thought he’d spend that particular night if he’d ever given any thought to it during the course of his life, but she’d been panicked and nervous. He’d not mentioned any expectations, nor had he hinted at what usually happened between married couples. It had been her choice and would remain that.
Their union had never been based on physical need, and besides, he was a patient man. Once they knew each other better, perhaps their relationship would move into other aspects. It was enough that he’d gained the boon of removing her from the Storme influence, at least for a little while.
He didn’t take that lightly.
Now, once more in the Earl of Hadleigh’s traveling coach, he was still as stunned as he’d been the day before. Yes, with their nuptials, he’d intended to set her free so she could discover who she truly was once away from everyone coddling her, conversely ignoring her, or protecting her out of their own fears. But what of everything else life would hand them? Every union went through trials and tribulations. Would they have enough between them to weather those?
His attempt to stifle a sigh failed, and it sounded overly loud inside the coach. Caroline ceased her contemplation of the passing countryside to rest her curious gaze upon him. She was rather fetching in her traveling dress of moss green and ivory striped muslin. There was a matching bonnet, but she’d categorically refused to wear it, so it sat on his bench, for he’d picked it up from where she’d flung it on the way out to the coach earlier. That stubborn spirit was adorable; would that she’d always have it. He grinned in the hopes of further gaining her trust but to also set her at ease. “How do you like traveling thus far?”
“I enjoy seeing the countryside.” She trained her attention on the window once more. “Peaceful. Want to paint it.” Her fingers glided over the sketchbook that sat on the bench next to her. “So pretty and full of life. Colorful.”
“You’ll have plenty of time for that once we arrive.” As much as he would have liked departing directly from Hadleigh Hall to Ipswich to begin their married life, it hadn’t been feasible to delay due to packing her belongings. The time alone together was vital if this union was to survive in whatever form it would take. Once their wedding trip concluded, and after Brand paid his promised visit, they would all return to London together, and from there, go to Ipswich on Brand’s schooner. Would Caroline enjoy being on the water? It would certainly expand her horizons and give her other views to contemplate.
“Will there be sheep?”
He frowned. “I beg your pardon?”
Again, she looked at him. “Are there sheep? I want to see them.” Her words were slow and deliberate in an effort to make them release in proper order.
While he appreciated that, John wished she were comfortable enough to be herself. He didn’t mind that her speech was sometimes jumbled. It was a part of who she was and a reason he’d wished to help her embrace that aspect. “I don’t remember, truth to tell. The last time I was at Hadleigh Hall, it was winter.” During that house party, he’d spent much of his days with Caroline or the doctor—now earl—for Brand had been newly married and couldn’t bear to be away from his wife for too long.
Poor devil was missing his wife fiercely at the moment, though.
She nodded. “I think I would rather sheep like.”
“I suppose they are quite congenial. More than goats, perhaps.” No, this wasn’t a conversation he’d ever thought he’d have with the woman he took to wife, but there was nothing for it. From everything he’d managed to glean from various Stormes, Caroline’s life had not only been sheltered while she’d been locked away, but she rarely interacted with other people. To say nothing of the hint of violence she’d already let slip. His heart ached for the lonely life she must have led, far from anything of beauty, no doubt craving any sort of touch or kindness.
That ends now. I’ll do whatever is in my power to see her life bloom.He couldn’t explain the curious pull between them; he only knew she needed so much more than she’d been given. That coupled with the solitude, the disappointment, the abuse his own childhood had seen, he felt a bond with her that perhaps no one else of her acquaintance would. We can help each other, if she’s willing.
That tentative smile curved her lips, and John dropped his gaze to her mouth. What would those two pieces of rosy flesh feel like if he stole a kiss? Were they as soft and plush as they looked? Would doing so frighten her too badly or open her world to other possibilities? He didn’t know but he wouldn’t do anything to rush his fences.
“Will you teach me to ride?”
The words startled him. He snapped his attention back to her gaze. “Ride a goat?”
“No.” She shook her head and lifted one of her hands to wrap her fingers around a white enamel crescent moon pendant on a silver chain. “A horse. One never have ridden. Is it frightening?”
“That depends on the temperament of the horse and the attitude of the rider.” Again, his chest tightened with empathy, for the woman across from him had missed out on so much women of her status should have done.
Caroline nodded. “I remember horses. From childhood. My father forbade me from riding.” Her eyes narrowed. Annoyance threaded through her tone. “Mother said I wasn’t capable. Isobel could. Got everything.”
“While you were sent to your room,” he finished softly for her. There was unresolved anger deep down within her. Of that he had no doubts.
“Yes.” She traced the moon with a fingertip. The edge of the enamel was worn as if she’d done that for many years. “Nothing to look forward to.”
“Those days are behind you, and now the world is at your feet.” As much as he could provide those opportunities. It helped that the Earl of Hadleigh had given him five hundred pounds for her dowry. His father would not see a farthing of that money, for he intended to purchase a house and in that way care for his wife as she deserved. It was a good start in the event the new shipping outfit suffered pockets of slow commerce. When she met John’s gaze, the relief there was so obvious that his heart squeezed, but he didn’t want to be seen as her savior, her rescuer. He wished them to have a friendship, perhaps more later, based on mutual likes and things in common. “Tell me about your pendant. I’ll wager it holds great meaning for you.”
“This?” Caroline held up the moon so he could better see it. When he leaned forward, a bit of a face with features was visible, worn like the edges. “Mother this me gave birthday for my tenth.” She shrugged and let the pendant fall back where it settled between her collar bones. “Only thing not taken from me at the asylum.”