Page 59 of Courting Claudia

Poppy shook her head.

What would happen when Lady Livingston arrived home from her afternoon tea and found her daughter in shambles? How would she react to such a scandalous event? A shiver pricked its way up Claudia’s spine at the thought of having to tell such a story to her father. Granted, he hadn’t taken the news of her pending nuptials too well either. She could hardly blame him; he must be mortified by her behavior. Despite her intentions, Claudia had made scandalous behavior an art form.

Just then Lady Livingston entered the parlor. “Good afternoon, girls. How are we today?” The stately woman took one look at her daughter’s still figure and stopped moving. “Poppy, darling, what’s the matter?”

Poppy turned to face her mother and burst into tears.

Her mother immediately took a seat next to Poppy. “Gracious, whatever is wrong?” Mother and daughter embraced, and Claudia watched as Lady Livingston’s hand rubbed an even tempo against Poppy’s back.

“Whatever is wrong, remember all will be well.” She retrieved a handkerchief from her reticule. Dabbing at Poppy’s eyes, she looked at her daughter with nothing but love and concern. “Stop crying, love, before you make yourself ill. Now tell me what happened.”

It took Poppy a good fifteen minutes to recount the story amid hiccups and sobs. Her mother held her again and rocked her gently.

“Not precisely the question you thought he’d ask you? Well, I can certainly understand these tears. Your heart is broken, my dear, but it shall mend in due time. I know you think he was the only one to make you feel that love, but he’s not. A bit more patience and time, and you’ll see.”

Claudia watched Lady Livingston console her daughter. Envy sat in her stomach like a stone. She felt like the intruder being here during such an intimate family moment. But she couldn’t tear herself away. What must it feel like to have a parent not judge, not scold, but only comfort?

There was no mention of a scandal to the family or how this incident would affect her family name. There was no mention of a lack of judgment or reckless behavior. Instead there were hugs and pats and tender words meant to console and express love. Claudia would have given anything to know what it felt like to have that kind of love, if only for a moment.

Chapter 13

She was married.

Claudia sat at the dressing table, brushing her hair. She’d lost count somewhere along fiftysix strokes as her mind worked to absorb all the day’s events.

Married.

It was a strange and giddy feeling. It had been a quiet ceremony with only Poppy’s family and a few of Derrick’s friends as well as his aunt. Claudia’s father had not come. She had known he probably wouldn’t come, but she’d hoped he would prove her wrong. She would send a note to him later to let him know she was well and would come see him soon.

Derrick was behind her somewhere in the room; where precisely, she wasn’t sure, as she couldn’t see him. But she felt him, like a warm blanket around her shoulders. Her husband. She wanted to turn and find him, to study his features as she’d never allowed herself to do, but her nerves wouldn’t allow it. There was no awkwardness between them, but there was a charge in the air that was palatable. Tonight he would make her his own, and the thought terrified and exhilarated her. Was he as nervous about the marriage bed as she?

Perhaps, but certainly not for the same reasons. She was nervous because she’d never lain with a man before. But even more so, she’d never had any man look upon her while she was unclothed. Or touch the excess flesh that gave her such shame. She put a hand on her belly and felt the softness. Perhaps he wouldn’t want to touch her at all.

Try as she might, she didn’t believe that. Derrick would want to touch her. Everywhere.

That thought paralyzed the breath in her chest.

The feelings he’d evoked from touching her the few times they’d had encounters had left her shamelessly aching for more. More of what, she wasn’t certain. But surely there was more.

She’d always believed what went on between a husband and wife behind closed doors was an unpleasant thing, but Derrick had made her believe it might be quite pleasant.

Then suddenly he was behind her, his reflection standing above hers in the mirror. He was so handsome, she nearly gasped. And he was hers.

He took the brush from her and gently brought it back through her hair, his hand smoothing a path behind the brush. There was something so intimate about his brushing her hair. No one save Baubie and her mother had ever brushed her hair. He continued his brushing, all the while keeping his focus on her hair.

She allowed herself to study him in the mirror, and for the first time, she saw something other than his handsome face. There was a childlike concentration in his expression as he brushed her hair, and in that moment he seemed lost and vulnerable, and she felt the strongest need to love him. To forget her worries about one-sided affection and simply hand him her heart.

“There’s something you need to know.”

He stopped the brushing, and his eyes met hers in the mirror.

He set the brush down and walked to the bed. “Come over here.”

She chewed at her bottom lip.

He swore under his breath. “When you do that, I want to throw you down on that bed and kiss you. From the top of your head to your little dainty toes.” He shook his head and released a little chuckle. “They’re toes, that’s all, and yet they’re the most erotic toes I’ve ever seen. And that ridiculous nightgown.”

She looked down at her gown, then looked back up at him. She opened her mouth to say something, but he cut her off.