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Authors: Cari Hislop

Tags: #historical romance, #Fiction

Taming the Shrew (6 page)

BOOK: Taming the Shrew
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“Hervey’s in the kitchen. Wait, don’t go...I...in the print shop...”

“Yes?”

“You needn’t sneer, I’m trying to apologise...I thought you were Hervey.”

“How does that excuse your rudeness Madam?”

“As I was telling you before you rudely interrupted, I thought you were Hervey. I thought he was ignoring me to irritate me. I’d been standing there for five minutes.”

“Has Hervey ever ignored you? Woman if I hadn’t given my word to be polite...”

“To think I felt bad about hurting your stupid feelings. Say what you please you horrid ugly man, I hate you. Get out!”

“With pleasure; how he can stand you I’ll never know.”

“Who cares what you think, you ugly orange-head?” The door slammed with violent fury inciting the remaining occupant to scream in fury. Out of breath, she curled up in the chair that smelled like the Hervey creature and burst into tears. She’d married into a horrid family of stupid ugly orange-heads. Her children would all have orange hair and be stupid and vile. She’d demand an annulment and free herself from the vile prospect of giving birth to orange-heads.

Chapter 7

Behind a screen in the corner of the kitchen, Hervey’s naked body glistened as he carefully shaved his upper neck when a scream befitting Satan’s daughter pierced his ears and shot down his spine into his stomach causing instant fear. He dropped his cutthroat razor and grabbed his robe off the screen too panicked to care if the old retainers would see their young master in all his glory. Running past his brother Avery half way up the stairs he was deaf to everything but the unhappy sounds coming from his study. Clutching his robe closed he burst into the room, “Sweetheart? What’s the matter?”

“What do you think?” The satanic snarl was punctuated by soft sobbing hidden behind a chair facing away from the door.

He carefully buttoned his robe and then slowly walked around the desk. “Have the ghosts been throwing things at you? That’s always unnerving the first few times.”

“I hate your family.”

“Did Avery upset you?”

“What do you think you stupid orange-head? I must have been mad to marry you; I want an annulment.” Hervey took a deep breath and slowly exhaled his irritation and hurt as he put his hands on his hips. Delicate negotiations always went smoother in a climate of calm.

“As you wish, but...”

“That’s...what...I...wiiiiishhh.” The final word was punctuated with a scream muffled by her arms covering her face. He glanced at the desk and noted the missing brown ledger. His heart sank; she’d read it and she still wanted an annulment?

“Sweetheart, I’m not my brother.”

“You’re all the same.”

“Do you think if you kissed Avery it would feel the same?”

“I’d rather die than kiss that vile orange-head.”

“I’m relieved to hear it, so why punish me for my brother’s sins?”

“I hate him!”

“That may be, but your misdirected anger is hurting my feelings.”

“What about my feelings? I married an orange-head. You only kiss me when you want and you won’t bed me until I feed your self-conceit. You must be mad to live in this creepy house; I want to go home.”

“As you wish; I was hoping you’d come shopping with me.”

“Shopping?”

“I’m going to buy you some presents, but if you’d rather go home...”

“I hate my house; it’s boring and it stinks of laudanum.”

“You could come with me...”

“Do we have to ride in the devil’s stinking carriage?”

“Kissing you will be more pleasurable on a comfortable seat.”

“Everyone will see.”

“Yes, they’ll all know you’ve married me.” Hervey lifted the hem of his robe, “Here, dry your eyes.”

Her eyes peered out from between her arms, “You have blood on your neck. It’s staining your lovely robe.”

“I was shaving. I heard you scream and nearly slit my throat.”

“Why?”

“Because I was terrified something bad had happened to you.”

“You care about me?”

“I wouldn’t have exposed my nakedness to the kitchen in my mad dash to save you if I didn’t. I’ll blush like a cooked lobster every time Cook asks me if I want sausages. Look at me, I’m still wet.” Hervey felt the sunshine through the window warm his neck and fill the room with a haze of happiness as his wife leapt out of the chair and flung her arms around him, wiping her wet eyes on his chest. Hervey sighed with pleasure. “If you knew how much I care, you’d never call me orange-head.”

“I’m sorry Hervey creature. Do you hate me?”

Hervey took advantage of her raised head to kiss her cheek. “Never!”

“Your brothers hate me; I apologised to that vile Avery creature and he was horrid. He doesn’t want me to be your wife; he doesn’t think I’m good enough for you, I hate him.”

“Sweetheart, I love my brother and usually value his insight, but his opinion of you is irrelevant to our happiness.”

“I don’t feel happy, I want to die...”

“And deprive me of your kisses? That would be cruel.”

“I want people to like me. Why does everyone hate me?”

“Sweetheart; calling a man a vile, stupid, ugly orange-head is not the way to win his regard.”

“Am I supposed to pretend he isn’t ugly or stupid?”

“Those adjectives are subjective.”

“What the devil does that mean?”

“Thinking Avery is a stupid, ugly orange-head is your opinion. I think him handsome, intelligent and kind.”

“You must be blind.”

“Just because someone sees the world differently doesn’t make him stupid. We all have our own viewpoint and opinions. Why should yours be more valid than mine?”

“I’m not blind.”

“You’d like my brothers if you could see them as I see them. Even David wouldn’t be such a pig if he was his own man.”

“How can I like your awful brothers when they glare at me?”

“You assume my brothers glare at you because they hate you, when really they’re gnashing their teeth in envy. I’d wager everything I own that if you’d invited Avery to tea yesterday he’d have dismissed his dreams of love and married you last night and cheerfully performed his conjugal duty thinking all the while how blessed he was to find a rich beautiful wife. Even Belvedere, who insists he’ll marry for love, would probably have sold his dreams for the chance of having a beautiful wife and a home of his own.”

“Why did you marry me?”

“Why do you think?”

“Don’t ask me that stupid question, just tell me the answer.”

“I have told you.”

“No you haven’t.”

“I have and I need to finish shaving so I can dress. I can’t take you out looking like this; people would laugh at you for marrying a madman.”

“They’ll laugh at us in any case. They’ll call us Mr and Mrs Red till we die. I hate people who call me names. What’s so funny?”

“Your look of indignation; what’s the difference between calling Avery an orange-head and a stranger calling you Mrs Red?”

“The Avery creature has an orange head while I’m not Mrs Red.”

“Sweetheart; his hair is orange, not his head.”

“Are you trying to make me feel guilty?”

“I’m not trying to make you feel anything. I’m merely pointing out that calling Avery an orange-head won’t endear you to him. It won’t take me long to finish my toilet and then I’ll...” Hervey forgot what he was going to say as his wife fingered the top button on his robe until it slide out of the button hole. “Juliana...you’re tempting me to break my resolve...”

She fingered the next button, “Good! Sweetheart?”

Hervey felt his blood scald his veins as bluish-green eyes begged him to make love to her. “That’s very close...”

“Oh Hervey creature, don’t be cruel. I’ve never been any good at acting. I’ll die an old maid with a ring on my finger.”

“Practice saying sweetheart out loud to an imaginary Hervey and with any luck I’ll be doing my duty before nightfall. Now if you’ll leave my nakedness covered I’ll go finish my toilet so I can take you shopping.” He briefly kissed her upturned lips and headed for the door.

“Sweetheart...”

The word pierced his back halting his departure. “Heavens!” Hervey’s voice cracked with desire as he turned his head to see if there was love in her eyes. “That almost sounded like you meant it.”

She growled in irritation as she stomped her foot, “Hervey creature...I can’t do any better than that.”

“Negative thinking is self-defeatist. Be positive.”

“I’m positively going to demand an annulment if you don’t do your duty in a year.”

“Sweetheart; if you haven’t learned to say it like you mean it in a month I shall give in to your sweet demands and then cry myself sick.”

“Why would you cry?”

“Why do you think?” Her answer was a satanic scream. “If you think my kisses are divine, just think how much you’ll enjoy the rest of me.” He blew her a kiss and stepped out of range as his brown ledger landed in the hall. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me Sweetheart.” His inkwell followed the ledger spilling its contents in a glorious black rainbow. “You’re going to irritate the ghosts. They don’t like having strange things on the walls.” Another satanic scream echoed through the house making him smile. With any luck she’d soon be crawling into his arms with love in her eyes.

Chapter 8

Blind to the items in the shop window, Juliana tipped her bonnet just far enough so she could view the whole reflection of her husband looking resplendent in a bright blue coat, orange waistcoat and yellow buff breeches. The blue of his suit seemed to make his face and hair glow. She stared at the distorted image in the glass wishing she could glance at the real man without being seen. The more she looked at his face the more she liked it. He had a well-shaped nose and his magic lips weren’t too thin or too thick. His face wasn’t too long or too round. It was freckled and he did look youthful, but it was a pleasant face neither handsome nor plain. If they went in she was more likely to have an opportunity to admire him unobserved. “Are we going to stand here all day or go in?” With her gloved fingers tucked securely around his elbow she allowed herself to be led through the door only to find she was in a shop selling ladies underclothes. To be seen by her husband in her shift or nightdress was almost bearable; to purchase a shift with a man at her side was unthinkable. “I don’t need any of these.” Her furtive whisper went unheard. “Hervey creature!”

“I’m sorry Sweetheart, did you say something?” The question rang through the shop drawing every feminine eye that wasn’t already admiring her husband.

Juliana turned her whole head so she could glare at her smiling companion past the brim of her bonnet. “I don’t need anything in here.”

“Yes you do Wife. Buying you a shift has been a long cherished dream.”

Her pink cheeks flushed a deeper red as several other customers snickered in amusement. “Don’t be horrid; they’re laughing at me...”

Hervey lowered his voice to a seductive whisper, “There’s no need to be embarrassed Sweetheart, I’m your husband.”

“I want to leave, now!”

“You can remain with me or wait outside while I buy them. People will think it rather strange if you leave, but if...”

“Then buy the stupid things and take me away before I scream.”

“As you wish.” Pulled towards the counter, she mutely observed her husband purchase three shifts in linen so fine she could see through it. Thinking the trial of her patience was nearly over Juliana was watching her husband’s long masculine fingers with fascination as he paid for his purchases when the shop door behind them opened.

“Hervey de Vere, I wouldn’t have thought you’d find any bargains in here.” Juliana felt her husband start before turning a polite smile to the beautiful woman behind him. “So who is your companion, she looks familiar.”

“Lady Malmsbury, may I present my wife Mrs Juliana de Vere, formally Miss Browne.” The woman raised her eyeglass and looked Juliana up and down as if she were a two-headed calf.

“Ah yes, the Browne chit you’ve been chasing forever. I remember hearing something about her being an heiress, but money isn’t everything Hervey. Some bargains aren’t what you bargained for though my advice appears to be a little late.”

Juliana’s eyes watered as she clenched Hervey’s arm too enraged to speak. She could only turn her head and watch her husband calmly reply, “My Lady, it’s very good of you to concern yourself in my affairs, but I’m quite pleased with my choice of wife. If she’d met me at the altar in rags without a pair of shoes to call her own I’d have thought her the bargain of a lifetime. If you’ll excuse us, we have an appointment.” He turned to address the lady behind the counter, “Deliver the boxes to the black carriage with the sky blue interior waiting at the end of the street.”

“It’s true then, you’ve purchased the devil’s carriage? What were you thinking?”

“It was a bargain.”

“I know a lady who hates Lyndhurst with a burning passion. Call on me alone next week and I’ll tell you who’d pay to set fire to it.”

“That is very good of you my Lady, but I haven’t decided to sell it. For all his sins, His Grace has excellent taste. It’s very comfortable.”

“Hervey dear, you can’t ride around in the Duke of Lyndhurst’s carriage; people will think you’re in his pocket. Who’ll buy your bargains then?”

“My Lady, your concern does you credit, but I assure you I’m in no danger of being found in the devil’s pocket. Excuse us...” Juliana breathed in through clenched teeth as she was marched out of the shop and down the street.

“Why didn’t you tell that sneering old nag to eat yew and die? How could you stand there and let her stare at me through that stupid looking-glass as if I were some sort of freak show exhibit? Why didn’t you say something?”

“She was rude on purpose Sweetheart. Lady Malmsbury would die without a daily dose of scandal. She wanted one of us to say something outré so she’d have some on dit to whisper at her next passing acquaintance. I don’t like people saying unkind things about you and I certainly won’t encourage them by becoming your rude husband.”

Feeling mollified, Juliana unclenched her teeth and sniffed her reluctant approval. “I still wish you’d put a flea in her ear. She knows perfectly well who I am. I’ve been invited to any number of her boring routes.”

BOOK: Taming the Shrew
12.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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