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Authors: Cheryl Bolen
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alive.
Before the dim sun went down that night, Bonny, her husband and cousin, along with a couple dozen villagers, buried her mother in the kirkyard beside her father’s grave. As she stood within the confines of the low rock wall that surrounded the yard, hstening to the lonely whoop of the wind and the words of the vicar, she wiped but a single tear from her eye. She remembered the smile on her mother’s face as she breathed her last breath. And Bonny knew her mother had joined her beloved husband.
After the ceremony, Bonny turned to her own beloved husband. He raised her chin with his knuckle. “Tomorrow, my love, we go to your new home.”
Chapter Six
O n this day Radcliff had chosen to ride in the carriage with the ladies, for they would soon arrive at Hedley Hall and he wanted to see his bride’s face when she first set eyes on her new home. Throughout the journey he had continued his practice of riding by himself, rather than undergoing the torture of being so close to his wife, whom he still had not made truly his own.
When he told Bonny on their wedding day he would wait to take her in the marriage bed at Hedley Hall, he had meant it. Making love to her on their actual wedding night was out of the question. She had just buried her mother that very evening. After she was dressed for the night in an embroidered white muslin gown, he had entered her chamber with a sleeping draft and coaxed her into bed, gently pushing the glorious black hair from her beautiful face. “Here, my dear, this will help you sleep,” he had told her.
She looked at him curiously and obeyed. “You are not sleeping here, sir?”
“We can wait until we get to Hedley Hall. We’ll have the rest of our lives. Tonight, we will show respect for your mother.” He had brushed his lips across hers and left her room.
Consummating their marriage in a drafty inn along the way held no appeal to him. Bonny deserved far more grand surroundings, as well as privacy not afforded in the close quarters of the country inns.
Bonny would truly become his wife on his mother’s bed, the bed where he was conceived and born, the bed where his heir would be conceived and born. He had written ahead to his capable housekeeper, Mrs. Green, to redo his mother’s room for his bride. He instructed her to have the room done in a turquoise blue to match Bonny’s eyes.
He turned away from the coach window and took Bonny’s hand in his. “I had best warn you, my love,” he said, “that Hedley Hall is a bit, how should I say it?—awesome for a residence.”
Her eyes flashed. “How so, Richard?”
“I am given to understand the first duke was close to Queen Elizabeth and welcomed her at Hedley Hall, so he wanted it to be quite as magnificent as a palace. Actually, it looks rather like a Tuscan palace. In fact, Cosimo de’ Medici visited Hedley Hall in the sixteenth century and said as much.”
“Oh dear, I assure you I will not know how to act.”
“You will make it a home once again, I am sure. My staff will be at your complete disposal to show you the linen closets and—well, all the things a mistress of the house knows about.” He shifted his weight on the soft squabs of the carriage. God, this was far more comfortable than his mount. He had ridden enough these past few weeks to last a lifetime. It was a wonder he was not barrel-legged.
“I hope your servants don’t find me meddlesome,” Bonny said.
“They will love you.” He lifted her hand and brought it to his lips. “In truth, Hedley Hall is more cozy to live in than one might think. During my parents’ time, they took up residence chiefly in the west wing. That wing, which was added later, has less marble and more wood and seems to me more English. The main building is rather grand and is only used now for large assemblies—of which there have been none since my parents died.”
“You don’t want to open your house to friends?”
“As soon as you are out of
Before the dim sun went down that night, Bonny, her husband and cousin, along with a couple dozen villagers, buried her mother in the kirkyard beside her father’s grave. As she stood within the confines of the low rock wall that surrounded the yard, hstening to the lonely whoop of the wind and the words of the vicar, she wiped but a single tear from her eye. She remembered the smile on her mother’s face as she breathed her last breath. And Bonny knew her mother had joined her beloved husband.
After the ceremony, Bonny turned to her own beloved husband. He raised her chin with his knuckle. “Tomorrow, my love, we go to your new home.”
Chapter Six
O n this day Radcliff had chosen to ride in the carriage with the ladies, for they would soon arrive at Hedley Hall and he wanted to see his bride’s face when she first set eyes on her new home. Throughout the journey he had continued his practice of riding by himself, rather than undergoing the torture of being so close to his wife, whom he still had not made truly his own.
When he told Bonny on their wedding day he would wait to take her in the marriage bed at Hedley Hall, he had meant it. Making love to her on their actual wedding night was out of the question. She had just buried her mother that very evening. After she was dressed for the night in an embroidered white muslin gown, he had entered her chamber with a sleeping draft and coaxed her into bed, gently pushing the glorious black hair from her beautiful face. “Here, my dear, this will help you sleep,” he had told her.
She looked at him curiously and obeyed. “You are not sleeping here, sir?”
“We can wait until we get to Hedley Hall. We’ll have the rest of our lives. Tonight, we will show respect for your mother.” He had brushed his lips across hers and left her room.
Consummating their marriage in a drafty inn along the way held no appeal to him. Bonny deserved far more grand surroundings, as well as privacy not afforded in the close quarters of the country inns.
Bonny would truly become his wife on his mother’s bed, the bed where he was conceived and born, the bed where his heir would be conceived and born. He had written ahead to his capable housekeeper, Mrs. Green, to redo his mother’s room for his bride. He instructed her to have the room done in a turquoise blue to match Bonny’s eyes.
He turned away from the coach window and took Bonny’s hand in his. “I had best warn you, my love,” he said, “that Hedley Hall is a bit, how should I say it?—awesome for a residence.”
Her eyes flashed. “How so, Richard?”
“I am given to understand the first duke was close to Queen Elizabeth and welcomed her at Hedley Hall, so he wanted it to be quite as magnificent as a palace. Actually, it looks rather like a Tuscan palace. In fact, Cosimo de’ Medici visited Hedley Hall in the sixteenth century and said as much.”
“Oh dear, I assure you I will not know how to act.”
“You will make it a home once again, I am sure. My staff will be at your complete disposal to show you the linen closets and—well, all the things a mistress of the house knows about.” He shifted his weight on the soft squabs of the carriage. God, this was far more comfortable than his mount. He had ridden enough these past few weeks to last a lifetime. It was a wonder he was not barrel-legged.
“I hope your servants don’t find me meddlesome,” Bonny said.
“They will love you.” He lifted her hand and brought it to his lips. “In truth, Hedley Hall is more cozy to live in than one might think. During my parents’ time, they took up residence chiefly in the west wing. That wing, which was added later, has less marble and more wood and seems to me more English. The main building is rather grand and is only used now for large assemblies—of which there have been none since my parents died.”
“You don’t want to open your house to friends?”
“As soon as you are out of
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