What Rumours Don't Say Read online

Instead, she felt a mixture of bewilderment, exasperation, dread, and for the most part, an overwhelming sadness, as if something of great value had been right within her grasp and then suddenly snatched away from her.

  She turned on her side, clutching the front of her chemise, holding back the tears that threatened to breach through, wondering if every woman in polite society had felt as despondent on their wedding night.

  It was a long time before sleep claimed her.

  Axelle was sleeping soundly, Reeve thought, regarding his wife from his side of the traveling coach.

  Just as planned, they had left London at daybreak and were now headed for the Ravenhall lands in the countryside, in particular, the stately Ravenhall Manor. There, they would be spending their obligatory month-long honeymoon.

  Apart from the constant thudding of horses’ hooves and the rattling of the wheels as they rolled over winding cobbled streets that gradually faded into muddy paths, the carriage was shrouded in a cumbersome silence, which, combined with the arduousness of the journey and its indolent pace, did nothing at all for Reeve’s mood.

  He was still disgruntled about last night’s events. After all, he had expected his wife to be mature, to be ready, to be a challenge even, just as she was on her feet, or at least responsive – anything but the innocent he had seen trembling beneath him last night, clearly terrified of his advances but doing her best to appear otherwise.

  Part of him told him he should have pressed on nonetheless, and wondered why he had not done so. It was his husbandly privilege, after all, and she had been compliant – either of which most men would have found sufficient reason to continue. But, damn it to hell, he had wanted more, wanted her to look at him with eyes that burned with a lust equal to his own, to encourage him with her own touches and moans, to hold on to him with all of her strength.

  Just as he had wanted of Anne.

  Anne.

  It was ironic how re-marrying had made him turn his thoughts to his first wife even more, when it should have diminished her memory.

  Anne, too, had been terrified on their wedding night, except that she had made no effort to conceal it. She had sobbed uncontrollably and flinched at his slightest touch, moving away even, her eyes begging him to leave her alone.

  But then, Anne had led a rough life and had been subject to a horrid experience just a few weeks past, whereas Axelle, in spite of her unorthodox upbringing, had never wanted for anything and as far as Reeve knew, had never known a man’s touch, which left him at a loss as to why she would not welcome his.

  Perhaps, he thought, he would simply have to bide his time.

  Three

  By the time they arrived at the Ravenhall lands, Axelle felt her spirits restored, abetted by the long rest she had managed to acquire and the knowledge that they had arrived at the tranquil countryside where she had lived most of her life. Ignoring the somber expression of the man across her, whose mood, it seemed, unlike hers, had not improved during the trip in the slightest, she looked out of the tiny carriage window with childlike excitement, which eventually turned into awe as she caught a glimpse of Ravenhall Manor in the distance.

  Even from across the river, she could tell that the Manor was an impressive abode, much larger than the country house she had grown up in and even larger than the mansion in London. In fact, it looked more like a castle with its sheer size, corner towers and symmetrical stone façade punctuated by grey windows. Axelle had to admit it looked a little dark, though, and she resolved then and there to lighten up the place. She was now the Countess of Ravenhall, after all.

  As the carriage drew closer to the Manor, some of her awe dwindled into anxiety. Although she had already been introduced as the Countess of Ravenhall to the ton, this was her first time meeting the staff of the Manor, as well as some of the people living on her husband’s lands, whom she could already see gathered at the front courtyard of the Manor, and she had a feeling their acceptance of her mattered more than that of all the nobles in polite society.

  Still, she straightened out her shoulders and held her chin high as she stepped out of the carriage, greeting everyone with the most charming smile she could muster.

  Much to her relief, her smile was returned by warm, hopeful ones along with sincere words of welcome after just a moment of scrutiny, and when she had finished being acquainted with everyone at the Manor, all her disquietude had vanished, replaced by a feeling of optimism which deepened as she crossed the threshold of the colossal house.

  Just as she had expected, the interior of the Manor was as magnificent as the outside. It, too, was as dreary, though, and she made a note to have the drapes changed at the soonest opportunity, convinced that they were largely responsible for creating the distressing atmosphere.

  “Would you like some tea in the parlor before supper, my lady?” Mrs. Burrows, the housekeeper, asked.

  “Tea would be lovely, Mrs. Burrows,” Axelle said as she allowed her new lady’s maid, Jackie, to take off her coat. “Though I think I would like to take a tour of the house first.”

  “I’ll take you,” Rosalind offered as she came down the stairs. She and Lady Glenwood had arrived with Axelle and Reeve in a separate carriage but had entered the Manor earlier while Axelle had been busy meeting the staff. “The house is enormous, after all. You might get lost.”

  “Are you certain?” Axelle asked. “You must be exhausted.”

  “Not at all,” Rosalind said. “Besides, I have not yet had the chance to spend time alone with my new sister-in-law.”

  At that, Axelle smiled. It was strange but from the moment she had met Rosalind, she had felt a kindred spirit in her, as if Rosalind was the sister she never had, and she was glad that the younger woman seemed to approve of her.

  “Will you be joining her ladyship in the parlor for tea, Miss Colter?” Mrs. Burrows asked.

  “Yes, I will,” Rosalind answered. Then, she turned to Axelle. “Shall we?”

  Axelle nodded then followed Rosalind down the hall. “I am grateful for your company,” she said.

  “Not as grateful as I am,” Rosalind said. “After all, I rarely get to be out of Aunt Lucille’s custody.”

  Axelle smiled, reminded of how she, too, had once desperately wanted to be free of her Aunt Gertrude. “I am glad to be of help.”

  Rosalind grinned as she opened the first set of double doors which led to the salon. “Besides, I must say I cannot help but bear some measure of admiration for the woman who finally made my brother remarry.”

  “You make it sound like I have accomplished some insurmountable feat.” Axelle surveyed the room with admiring eyes. “When was the last time this room was used?”

  “Many years ago,” Rosalind answered. “I was still a child when the last ball was held at Ravenhall Manor.”

  “We should definitely hold one,” Axelle said.

  Rosalind’s grin widened. “My brother was right to have chosen you.”

  Axelle smiled at the praise.

  “Although I must say,” Rosalind went on. “I cannot imagine why you agreed to marry him.”

  Axelle viewed the younger woman with amusement. “I was under the impression that if women were permitted to make offers of marriage, your brother would have received many.”

  Rosalind shrugged. “True, his looks are not bad and his age doesn’t really show, and of course, there is the immense wealth…”

  “For most women of the ton, that is more than enough reason.”

  “But he can be very disagreeable at times,” Rosalind added.

  “So far, we have reached an agreement on most things.”

  Rosalind sighed. “When I marry, I think I should like an affectionate husband, not merely an agreeable one,” she said as they went out of the salon and continued down the hall. “Then again, I suppose it is no surprise that my brother is no longer capable of affection after the tragic incident regarding Anne.”

  “Anne?” Axelle slowed down.

  “His first wife,” Rosa
lind said as she opened the door to the drawing room. “Have you not discussed her?”

  Axelle shook her head as she followed Rosalind inside the smaller but equally lovely room. “We have agreed not to.”

  “Indeed?” Rosalind gave her a puzzled look. “It seems you are more considerate than I thought.”

  “I would like to think of it as wisdom more than consideration,” Axelle said, running her fingers across the back of an elegant chair. “Surely, nothing good can come out of unearthing the past.”

  “Especially not a tragic past,” Rosalind said, looking out the window. “It’s a pity he did not meet you a long time ago. Then, he would never have suffered of a broken heart.”

  “He loved Anne that much?” Axelle asked, unable to resist presenting the question in spite of Reeve’s warning. Then again, Reeve had only warned that he and Axelle would never discuss Anne, and did not exactly prohibit her from discussing Anne with other people, and so she was not really doing anything wrong.

  “Unfortunately,” Rosalind answered, sighing. “I heard he nearly took his own life when she died and I have long feared that his heart has been buried in the grave with her.”

  Axelle said nothing.

  “Of course, I was wrong,” Rosalind went on, walking back towards the doors. “He married you, after all.”

  “Ours was not a love match,” Axelle reminded, following her.

  Rosalind only gave a knowing smile.

  Axelle forced one of her own as they stepped out of the drawing room. She did not know why, but some of the despondence she felt from the night before had suddenly gushed back at her.

  “Come.” Rosalind took her hand. “Let me show you to the library.”

  The library, with its numerous shelves stocked with books on various subjects, succeeded in lifting Axelle’s spirits up until supper, which she had alone with Reeve in the spacious dining room, Rosalind and Lady Glenwood already having retired.

  When it was clear he was not going to start a conversation, not even bothering to ask her how she found Ravenhall Manor, she made an attempt to engage him in one, asking him if it was permissible for her to have the drapes changed, to which he simply answered that she could do whatever she wanted with the Manor as long as she left his bedchamber and his study alone. After that, he said nothing more, rendering her effort futile and making it clear he was in no mood to speak.

  She ignored him in turn, eating in silence and trying to conceal her annoyance even as she tried to dissuade herself from it. She had no genuine reason to be annoyed, after all. Reeve had only agreed to four things – treating her as an equal in private, letting her know if he had any mistresses, giving her the freedom to read whatever she wished and assisting her in procuring the rest of her father’s books. He had never agreed to be kind or to cosset her, nor did she ask him to, and so she had no cause for disappointment.

  Still, she could not help but hope that he would visit her bedchamber after supper and when he did not, her spirits sank even lower.

  True, their marriage was not a love match just as she had confided to Rosalind, but was it too much to ask for him to spare a few words for her at dinner or to bid her good night warmly? Was she expecting too much?

  She slapped her forehead as the answer came to her. As much as she had considered herself to be a strong, intelligent woman who was no longer inclined to romantic whims, she realized now that she had, indeed, secretly hoped for an affectionate husband, which was why it crushed her to know that she did not have one, nor would she ever have one.

  It is no surprise my brother is no longer capable of affection after the tragic incident regarding Anne.

  At the recollection of Rosalind’s words, she felt the tears that she had managed to restrain the night before streak down the sides of her face to moisten her pillow.

  If she had married any other man, perhaps it would not be a mistake to hope for affection, but she knew she had no cause to hope for that from Reeve. He still loved Anne. The fact that he had not remarried until unfortunate circumstances compelled him to was proof enough of it, and if she had not died, Reeve would, no doubt, have never noticed Axelle.

  As she contemplated her misfortune, she allowed the tears to fall freely and when she had wept all she could, she wiped the traces away with the sleeve of her nightgown and rose from the bed, walking to the window so she could part the curtain and glimpse at the moonlit skies.

  Tomorrow, she would ask for new drapes to be sewn and see what other changes could be made.

  She would cease her foolish expectations, telling herself that if Reeve did not see her worth, it was his loss and she would strive not to make it hers, as well.

  She would simply see to the Manor, performing her duties as a countess and conducting herself perfectly as such, knowing that if she did, she would somehow find something to fill the emptiness she felt inside.

  Axelle was doing well, Reeve thought as he watched her dismount her horse from an upstairs window, a nosegay clasped in her right hand, which he presumed was a gift from a little girl in the village.

  In just one week, it seemed as if she had completely settled in, having changed not only the drapes from purple to green but also the order of the furniture in some rooms and the meals, which he had to admit were now more scrumptious. In the past few days, she had taken to riding out, as well, and from what he had heard, she was welcomed warmly everywhere, which caused his chest to swell with pride, affirming the correctness of his choice of countess.

  Indeed, she was diligent in all her duties except for one, which was her duty both as a wife and a countess, and since it had already been a week, he intended to remedy that tonight.

  With that intention in mind, he went to her bedchamber after dinner, right after she had finished with her bath and the maids had brought down the tub.

  “That will be all, Leah,” Axelle said as he entered, mistaking him for a maid since her back was turned to the door, her gaze seemingly directed beyond the window as she brushed her hair. “You may…”

  As soon as she saw him, she stopped and slowly set down her brush on the dresser. “Forgive me, my lord, I was not aware it was you who had entered my chamber.”

  “As you have made clear,” he said as he took a step closer to her.

  “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?” she asked, unintimidated by his presence.

  “You sound displeased,” he said as he entwined a lock of her brown hair around his finger, not missing the icy edge of her tone. “I was under the impression you were enjoying your stay here.”

  “And I was under the impression I no longer concerned you,” she said. “After all, my lord, I have barely heard a word from you since we arrived.”

  She was displeased, he thought. “I was not aware that conversation during meals was one of your requirements.”

  “I was not aware I had to require it.”

  He frowned. “And would you also like to require that I escort you to your bedchamber after dinner and kiss you good night?”

  “That, my lord, would be a perfectly sound idea,” she said as she walked to the bed. “Although of course, I would not dream of requiring anything else, considering all of the things I have already asked of you. I am only your wife, after all. Your second wife, I might add.”

  “Would you care to explain what that means?”

  “Why, nothing, my lord,” she answered. “Simply that I would never be able to fulfill your expectations since I could never compare to Anne.”

  He clenched his jaw, his temper rising. “I thought I had made it clear we would not, under any circumstance, discuss my first wife.”

  “You have made it perfectly clear, my lord, that as your second wife, I…”

  “First wife or not, you are still my wife, Axelle,” he interrupted her. “And as my wife, you should be aware of the purpose of my visit.”

  “I see.” She sat on the bed. “I must admit, my lord, I did wonder at first why you came, but now that you have enli
ghtened me, I am reminded that a man only visits his wife’s bedchamber to collect on his rights.”

  “Damnation, woman.” He stood beside the bed. “I was simply giving you time to settle in. Now, it has dawned on me that I should never have extended such courtesy.”

  Her green eyes widened. “Giving me time?”

  “I should have just done this a long time ago.”

  With those words, he held her chin and kissed her.

  Four

  Reeve was kissing her.

  At first, Axelle was not even aware of what was happening, the feel of a man’s lips on hers one she had only experienced once before and had already cast out of her memory, considering how that experience had been concluded. Then, when she realized that he was actually kissing her, she was too stunned to do anything except close her eyes, barely able to breathe as she was suddenly and acutely made aware of the seriousness of his intent to collect on his husbandly rights.

  At that thought, she was unable to suppress a shiver, though strangely, unlike before, she did not feel too apprehensive and when she felt the tip of his tongue on hers, slipping past her lips, she felt that apprehension vanish, replaced by a feeling she could not entirely comprehend or put into words.

  All she knew was that she suddenly felt very warm even though her skin was still damp from her bath under her thin chemise and the bedroom window was open, letting the cool evening breeze drift into the room. She felt almost feverish, in fact, and as he held her chin firmer, pushing it back so that his tongue could delve deeper into her mouth, she felt herself melting, the warmth quickly transforming into a pulsating heat that made her breasts ripen and the place between her legs tingle.

  Whatever it was she was feeling, she suddenly knew she wanted more and she pushed her tongue back against him and whimpered. As abruptly as Reeve had started the kiss, though, he stopped and she opened her eyes to look at him, questioning him.

  He simply groaned, though, as he walked away, pausing by the window.