Deceived by Desire Page 14

  Aubrey had explained the logistics to her the night before, while warning her that the travelers were apt to be weary after the overnight trip. Maeve had taken the train from New York to Providence and a smaller ferry to Newport, which had been more economical than the deluxe accommodations the Nelson family had probably secured on the overnight boat.

  Maeve marveled at how he’d settled her nerves and calmed her fears. Today, she’d worn the dress she’d been married in, hoping it would bring her the same luck it had on her wedding day. Watching the Nelsons pour out of the carriages, she had a feeling she would need all the luck she could get.

  * * *

  Watching his mother alight from the carriage, Aubrey was filled with dread. He’d promised Maeve he would protect her, but the sight of his mother’s face reminded him of whom he was dealing with. It would take all his considerable fortitude to manage this situation and ensure that no harm would come to his fragile union at the hands of his mother.

  Next came his father, and Aubrey gasped at his obvious decline in the last few weeks. Aubrey’s mother shouted orders to anyone who would listen, instructing them to tend to her husband. Wiggie and Kaiser appeared, each of them offering an arm to Mr. Nelson to help him up the stairs.

  Aubrey’s mother, Eliza, did a double take at the sight of the men. Even dressed in red livery, their rough edges were still readily apparent in their awkward, unpracticed movements.

  “Mother.” Aubrey kissed both her cheeks in the European way she preferred. Once upon a time, Eliza Nelson had been beautiful. Now she would be considered attractive for her age with her blond hair gone brassy and deep lines around her mouth giving her the look of a perpetual frown. Aubrey shook his father’s hand while Wiggie and Kaiser stood by in case they were needed. “Father, it’s good to see you. Meet our new footmen, Wiggie and Kaiser. Gentlemen, these are my parents, Mr. and Mrs. Nelson.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, sir, ma’am.” The men recited the line Maeve had instructed them to use when they met their employers.

  “What happened to George and Tim from last summer?” Eliza breezed past Plumber and Maeve and into the house. His father followed behind her, moving much more slowly.

  Aubrey offered his arm to Maeve as he followed his parents inside. “They left.”

  As she removed her hat, his mother turned to him, her gaze zeroing in on Maeve’s hand tucked into the crook of his elbow. “They left?”

  “The entire staff left at the end of last Season.”

  “That is not true. Corrigan continued to pay their wages.”

  “You would have to consult with Mr. Corrigan about that.” The family’s man of business took care of paying the household bills in New York and Newport. “But I can assure you the staff departed en masse at the end of last summer. I have taken the liberty of hiring a new staff, including Mr. Plumber, our new butler.”

  Plumber bowed in greeting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both. I’m honored to be working at such a fine home.”

  “And this is Maeve—”

  “Ah yes,” Eliza said, “the housekeeper. The agency in New York informed us of your hiring.”

  Aubrey and Maeve spoke at the same time.

  “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

  “She’s no longer the housekeeper.”

  Eliza eyed her youngest son. “I beg your pardon.”

  “Maeve is no longer the housekeeper.” He put his arm around her. “As of a few days ago, she is my wife.”

  Eliza stared at him for the longest time, during which Aubrey refused to blink.

  His mother began to laugh. “You can’t be serious. You aren’t married to the Irish housekeeper.”

  “I’m married to Maeve Sullivan Nelson, formerly of Dingle, Ireland.”

  “Is this some sort of joke, Aubrey? Because I assure you, it’s not funny.” The laughter of a moment ago had been replaced by a fierce scowl.

  “It’s no joke, Mother, and I would advise you to think carefully about what you say or do next. Maeve is my wife, and I care for her very much. You will show her the respect she deserves or else.”

  Eliza’s eyes narrowed. “Or else what?”

  “I’ll take my wife and my friends, the duke and duchess, and we will spend our summer—as well as the rest of our lives—elsewhere.”

  “Don’t make idle threats. The duke and duchess aren’t going to want to summer anywhere but here.”

  “They will summer wherever I am, Mother, and whether or not I’m here will depend entirely on you.”

  Before his mother could form a response, his father spoke up. “I’d like to lie down if that’s all right.”

  “Of course, Father.” Aubrey signaled to the footmen, who again came to his father’s aid. Aubrey would’ve helped his father himself, but he didn’t want to leave Maeve alone with his mother.

  As the footmen helped his father up the stairs, Aubrey’s sisters and their children arrived in a noisy, happy gaggle of words and laughter that seemed to die when they realized they were walking into something.

  Aubrey ventured a glance at Maeve, and noted her face was pale and her lips set with displeasure. He hated that she’d had to witness such ugliness. Hopefully, his mother had heard what he’d said and would take him seriously. Aubrey had no doubt that Derek, Catherine and the others would take their lead from him, and if he said they needed to relocate, they would.

  They couldn’t care less about hobnobbing with society. They were coming to see him, and Aubrey was thankful for that. His mother was looking forward to enjoying the stature that would come with hosting the duke and duchess and wouldn’t want to have to explain to the other hostesses why her illustrious guests were no longer planning to come to Newport. The humiliation would be greater than her mortification over her new Irish daughter-in-law—or so he hoped.

  Aubrey was putting great faith in his friendship with Derek and Catherine. Their pending visit gave him cachet within his own family, and with the social doyennes who could make or break the Season. If the duke and duchess were to snub the Nelson family, that would be a disaster for his mother and sisters—and his mother knew it.

  He took hold of Maeve’s hand, which was freezing, and gave it a squeeze. “Maeve, I’d like you to meet my sisters—Adele, Audrey, Alora and Aurora. Alora and Aurora are twins, as you can probably tell. And these are my nieces and nephews—Margaret, Augusta, Jane, Samuel, James and Sally.” The children ranged from the oldest at eleven to the youngest at three, and living as they did in close proximity in New York, were nearly constant companions. They too looked forward to the summers in Newport when they lived under the same roof for a couple of months. “This is my wife, Maeve.”

  “You got married, Uncle Aubrey?” Augusta asked. At nine, she had strawberry-blond hair and big blue eyes.

  “I did. Come say hello to your new aunt Maeve.”

  Augusta led the other children over to greet Maeve. “You’re very pretty.”

  “Thank you.” Maeve hugged each of the children in turn. “You are as well.”

  “You talk funny,” James said.

  “James,” Aubrey said sternly. “That’s not polite. Maeve is from Ireland, and that’s why she speaks differently than you and I do.”

  “I’m sorry,” James said.

  Maeve patted James on the top of his dark-haired head. “No apology needed. I do talk funny compared to you.”

  James, who was seven, giggled.

  “James has no right to say anyone talks funny,” Margaret said. “He says a lot of words wrong.”

  Aubrey embraced his eleven-year-old niece. “Spoken like an older sister.”

  “It’s true,” Margaret said.

  James made a spitting noise at his sister.

  “That’s enough, children.” A team of governesses materialized to usher the children upstairs to unpack.

  “Can we play croquet on the lawn, Uncle Aubrey?” Samuel asked on the way up the stairs.

  “Absolutely. We’ll set up the gam
e after lunch.”

  “They’re delightful,” Maeve said.

  “They’re a handful, but we love them.” At times, he wondered how many children he would’ve had by now had Annabelle lived. His children would’ve grown up among the others. Now he had another chance for a family of his own, and he couldn’t be more excited by the prospect of children with Maeve.

  “Aubrey, may I have a word in private, please?” Eliza asked.

  “Of course, Mother.” He released Maeve’s hand. “I’ll find you shortly?”

  “We’ll take care of Maeve.” Audrey hooked her arm through Maeve’s. “Don’t worry, Aubrey.”

  “Be nice, or else,” he said under his breath to his sister.

  She rolled her eyes at him and escorted Maeve toward the back veranda with their other three sisters in tow. Over her shoulder, Maeve glanced at him, looking uncertain. As Aubrey followed his mother into the parlor, he hoped his sisters would be kind to his wife.

  The door closed with a loud thud.

  “What is the meaning of this, Aubrey?”

  “Of what, Mother?”

  “You marrying the Irish housekeeper.”

  “I love her.” He loved her and would do anything it took to make their marriage succeed.

  His mother’s brown eyes flashed with rage. “You love her? You barely know her!”

  “I know her better than I have ever known anyone, including Annabelle.”

  “How is that possible when you only met her two weeks ago?”

  “I can’t explain the how of it. All I can tell you is it’s the truth. She is the woman I have been hoping to find ever since I lost Annabelle, and I won’t stand for anyone, even you, making her feel less simply because she was born in Ireland.”

  “She won’t be received here or in New York.”

  “Yes, she will. The same people who would shun her will wish to entertain my friends, the duke and duchess. We come as a group. All or nothing.”

  “You show astonishing hubris in pretending you speak for the duke and duchess.”

  “The duke and duchess are my dear friends, and I have no doubt whatsoever that they will embrace my wife and will follow my lead when it comes to contending with Newport society.”

  “How could you do this to me, Aubrey? I’ll be mocked from one end of Bellevue Avenue to the other.”

  “I haven’t done anything to you, Mother, except marry the woman I love, the first woman to truly catch my attention in the ten years since I lost Annabelle. I would think you’d be happy for me.”

  “You would think wrong. I’m appalled, and if your father was in his right mind, he would be, too. People of our class don’t marry the help, for God’s sake.” Her harsh words were spoken in the crisp British accent that indicated her aristocratic upbringing.

  “People of our class also don’t mistreat their help.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “When Maeve arrived here, she found a complete disaster. Last year’s staff left the windows open all winter to invite in the seagulls, rodents and other feral guests. In your room, we believe they left food to ensure maximum wreckage. Everything in your room and Father’s had to be burned. She has worked her fingers to the bone for weeks, at first completely alone, to ensure the house was ready for your arrival. If not for her extraordinary efforts, you would’ve been arriving to a mess that defied description. In all my years, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “They should be prosecuted,” she said, sputtering with outrage.

  “You should be prosecuted for treating them so badly that they would do such a thing. Henceforth, you shall have no authority over the household staff in this house. They will answer to me and only me.”

  Her face turned an alarming shade of red. “Who do you think you are?”

  “I’m your son, and I’m appalled by your behavior.” He let that sit for a long moment before he continued. “In light of Father’s precarious health, I see no need to tell him about what transpired at the end of last Season, unless, of course, you continue to be abusive to the hardworking men and women who depend upon us for their living. In that case, I would have no compunction whatsoever about telling him what happened and why.”

  Rage rippled from her in waves that Aubrey could feel as much as see.

  “You will treat my wife and our staff with courtesy and respect, or I’ll make sure you’re the social pariah of the Season.”

  “You would do such a thing to your own mother?”

  “Try me, and you’ll find out the lengths I’ll go to in order to ensure my wife is embraced by my family and that the people whose life’s work is to serve us are well treated.”

  “You have disappointed me greatly, Aubrey.”

  “Likewise, Mother. You should know that I couldn’t care less what you or anyone else thinks of me, my choice of a wife or anything else I do. I have nothing at all to lose here, whereas you care so greatly what others think and have everything to lose. I truly hope that you will hear me when I tell you to tread carefully.”

  Feeling as if he’d made his point, Aubrey walked away, eager to find his wife and make sure his sisters weren’t peppering her with questions that she wouldn’t want to answer.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “You have to understand.” Adele said along with expressive hand gestures. “Aubrey hasn’t shown the slightest interest in any woman since he lost poor Annabelle, so it’s a shock to us to arrive and hear that he has gotten married.”

  Aubrey listened in for a minute before he made his presence known.

  “I’m sure it’s very startling,” Maeve replied.

  “You must tell us everything!” Alora declared.

  “No, she mustn’t,” Aubrey said as he came through the door to join them. “Mind your own business, you annoying harpies.”

  “When have you ever known us to do that?” Aurora asked.

  Aubrey laughed. “Very true.”

  “Well, one of you needs to tell us how this happened,” Adele said. “We have a right to know.”

  “You do not have a right to know,” Aubrey said, “but all I’ll say is that the moment I met Maeve, I wanted to know her. I wanted to know everything about her, and when I was lucky enough to convince her to become my wife, I was smart enough to get it done before you ladies could arrive and talk her out of it.” He put his arm around Maeve and glanced her way to make sure she was all right.

  She smiled, and he felt something inside him settle. She’d met his mother, father and sisters and was still smiling at him. He recorded each of those things as victories. “I require a moment alone with my wife.”

  “Honestly, Aubrey,” Aurora said. “In the middle of the day?”

  “I wish to speak to her.”

  “Of course you do,” Audrey said as the others cackled with laughter. “We’ve been newlyweds, too.”

  Aubrey pulled a disgusted face. “Don’t put those thoughts into my mind.” Before the girls could pursue that line of conversation, he led Maeve inside and up the backstairs, hoping to get to their bedroom before they encountered family members. He was relieved to see the hallway clear of relatives and followed her into the room, closing the door behind him. Leaning against the door, he released a long breath full of relief. “All things considered, I think that went rather well, don’t you?”

  “Your mother was very displeased.”

  “She often is displeased, but I made it clear to her that I’m quite delighted with my choice of a wife, and I’ll tolerate no detractors, even my own mother.” He pushed himself off the door and went to her, putting his arms around her waist and kissing her.

  “Did you tell her about the house?”

  “I did, and she suggested the former staff ought to be prosecuted. I suggested she ought to be.”

  “You didn’t!”

  “I did, and I meant it. I put her on notice that the staff no longer reports to her and that unless she wishes to be shunned by polite society, she will be kind
to my wife as well as the men and women who work for us.”

  “She must be so angry.”

  “I care not if she is. I have always been a good and faithful son who respected his mother and father, but as I grow older, I have learned that respect must be earned, not bestowed.”

  Maeve placed her hand over his heart. “I find this protective, fiercely loyal side of you very . . . attractive.”

  The statement became his favorite thing anyone had ever said to him. “Do you?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Going up on her tiptoes, Maeve kissed him while Aubrey stood perfectly still, stunned and aroused to nearly the point of madness by her taking the initiative for the first time.

  He forced himself to stay still, to see what she would do, and she didn’t disappoint.

  With soft, almost delicate brushes of her lips over his, she had him clinging to the edge of sanity, and when she added light dabs of her tongue, he snapped, wrapped his arms around her, hauled her as close to him as he could get her and devoured her.

  She met every stroke of his tongue with one of hers, buried her hand in his hair and tugged on it to get him even closer.

  Aubrey lost track of time and space and anything that didn’t include her and having more of her right now. It didn’t matter to him that they were in a house full of family members or that they’d given his sisters plenty to talk about by disappearing this way in the middle of the day. As he continued to kiss her, he eased them onto the floor, making sure he was under her to soften the landing.

  She broke the kiss and stared at him, seeming as stunned as he felt. “What’re you doing?”

  He grasped handfuls of her skirts and eased them up and over her fine backside. “This.” As he spoke, he turned them so he was on top of her.