How to Seduce a Bride

“I don’t flatter,” he said in bored tones. “It’s demeaning, at least for the flatterer. I merely comment.”

“Then, thank you,” she said, so pleased and surprised, she didn’t know what else to say.

The room he showed her to was immense, and so opulently furnished that she caught her breath. But unlike most great houses she’d seen in illustrated magazines, for all its size and splendor the bedchamber was filled with light and seemed modern and airy. The great canopy bed, big enough for a family to sleep in, was hung with peach panels and covered with a sumptuous apricot-colored silk spread. The furniture was graceful and light, fashioned in the Chinese style the prince had made famous with his pleasure house at Brighton. Even the mantelpiece over the fireplace was made of rose-colored marble. The walls were covered with yellow and white stretched silk, and the paintings on those walls were of the sea and sky. The windows overlooked gardens, and it seemed they’d come inside as well, because everywhere there were vases and baskets of bright flowers.

Daisy peeked into an adjoining room to see a dressing room, and when she opened another door, found a second one. There were bathing facilities behind another door: a huge bath, fit for a Roman spa, and an indoor toilet. She swiftly changed out of the gown she’d been married in, and washed, admiring the beautiful marble water basin. She dallied only because she’d never seen a toilet that flushed before, but soon shook herself from the novelty of flushing, and dressed. She put on a simple yellow walking dress, comfortable slippers, and a straw bonnet. With a last backward glance at herself in a looking glass, she left her room. She couldn’t wait to see what else lay ahead for her.

Leland was waiting at the foot of the stair. He, too, had changed, and was dressed like a country gentleman, or rather, she thought, like a London gentleman who had dressed as a country gentleman. Because though he wore a scarf tied carelessly around his neck, no squire had ever worn such a well-tailored green jacket, such immaculate linen, such tightly fitting wrinkle-free gray breeches, or such shining brown half boots.

She smiled. He’d be a paragon of fashion if he had to dress for mucking out a barnyard.

“Yes,” he said, as though reading her mind. “Clothes do make the man, don’t you think? Especially when the man isn’t fortunate enough to command a lady’s attention otherwise.” He smiled. “I know, that’s the past, there’s only one lady’s attention I want now. Even so, I suspect it would be hard to get out of the habit of dressing to suit the occasion. I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with a fop. Unless, of course, it disturbs you?”

“No,” she said, smiling. “I don’t think that caring for your appearance means you’re a fop.” Especially, she thought, when one had endured a husband who bathed only when he felt too hot, and whose idea of fashion was to put on a clean shirt.

“Good,” Leland said, offering her his arm, “Now let’s go. I have so much to show you. My housekeeper won’t bother you for instructions because it’s our honeymoon and you haven’t any duties until it’s over. Let us hope it never is,” he added. “The rest of the staff will also stay discreetly out of our way. So we must entertain ourselves. Shall we begin?”

They strolled down paths to see rose gardens and wisteria arbors, herb gardens and knot gardens and rhododendron walks. His gardeners paused to salute him and show her their prize blooms. Her new husband showed her statues and fountains, and then a huge gazebo that overlooked an artificial pond that suited the real carp in it to perfection.

“These fellows are all tamed, and looking for crumbs,” Leland said, seeing her delight when the fish came to the edge of the pond and bubbled up their greetings to her fingertips when she touched the water. “They’re ornaments, really. But we’ve streams that feed a larger lake on the grounds, if you care to see real fish or go fishing. It’s too far to walk today, but if you like, we can ride there tomorrow.”

“I used to go fishing,” she said, her expression turning somber. “Remember, that’s partly the reason I was transported. I helped my father as he helped himself to our neighbor’s fish.”

“I’m sorry to bring up bad memories,” he said sincerely.

“I don’t mind,” she said, looking up at him. “I’d like to see the lake. I actually enjoyed fishing.”

Her straw bonnet was a flimsy affair; the wide holes in the weave let in the sunlight. The sunlight brought out the gold in her ruddy hair, and had already begun to inspire a light dusting of freckles on the bridge of her nose. Her eyes glowed with pleasure. The sunlight also clearly delineated her form, because her gown was so thin. For once, that wasn’t what held his attention. He studied her face instead. She was very beautiful, and very happy, which made her even lovelier.

“We’ll go there tomorrow,” he said. “I don’t want to exhaust you today.”

Her joyous expression vanished. She looked down at the fish again, her eyelashes shadowing her eyes. He frowned, wondered what had dismayed her.

“Oh,” he said. “I see. The comment about not wanting to exhaust you today? Don’t worry, it had no double meaning. It is our wedding night. But if you don’t want to begin our marriage tonight in earnest, or in the marriage bed,” he added, smiling, “we can wait. We have after all, forever. Or at least as long as it takes for you to invite me to join you in pleasure.”

She looked up at him in surprise. Her first husband had taken her away with him the moment the prison ship’s captain had finished reciting the wedding service. Tanner had laughed, grabbed her hand, dragged her to his cabin, tossed her on his bunk, flipped up her skirt, thrown himself on her, and done it. The act had taken much less time than the wedding ceremony and had terrified her even more. Leland expected her to invite him to do that? She sighed. She supposed she’d have to. But at least he was giving her time.

“Thank you,” she said. “I would like to get to know you better.”

“Now that,” he said, offering her his arm again, “is brave of you. Come, I’ll show you the prize of my home.”

He walked her down a path and up another, and then paused. She looked across a stream and another long lawn, and clapped her hands in glee. “A maze!” she cried. “How wonderful! I’ve read about them and never seen one.”

“So you shall,” he said comfortably. “I love it if only because it proves that my ancestors were just such frippery fellows as myself. My father was such a grim, dour, humorless man that I often wondered if my dear mama had got me off someone else, as she did Daffyd. But, alas, no. I resemble my late papa, in features, at least. He didn’t care for the maze at all. Spending a fortune to erect and then maintain it down through the centuries? He considered it wasteful and unproductive. It didn’t produce vegetables, fruit, or wood, and you couldn’t hunt or graze animals on it. He didn’t understand the reason for a maze because the word ‘play’ was alien to him. But luckily he was too conservative to destroy it. I’m very pleased that he didn’t; it’s the only living link I have to anyone in my family who remotely resembles me.”

“Your mother didn’t appreciate it?” Daisy asked.

“My mother didn’t appreciate anything but attention, and though I suppose she could get that if she pretended to get lost in the maze with a handsome stranger, she had no use for it otherwise. My brother Martin is bored by it, maybe because he knows he’s not heir to it and he’s only interested in what is his. Daffyd’s amused by it. Would you like to go in and see why?”

“Yes!” she said eagerly.

The maze was dark green, some twelve feet high, and made of ancient, thickly woven, manicured shrubs. Once they entered the doorway cut into the hedge, the air became closer and the heavy green smell of freshly cut vegetation was strong. The pebbled paths were so narrow, they had to walk close together, and it amused Leland to let Daisy decide the turnings they should take. After a while, she stopped, put her hands on her hips, and looked up at him.

“You are much too amused,” she said crossly. “And I’m much too smart to keep walking in circles. I’ll never find my way out without help.”

“The point is,” he said gently, “to find your way in,” he said, as they began to walk again, taking what seemed like casual left and right turns at random openings in the hedges. “My ancestors would have parties and award prizes to whomever found the heart of the maze first. No one knows the secret path to it but the heir-and my brothers and your friend Geoff, of course. And no doubt, my mama. And the head gardener, and I suppose his helpers, and my butler and housekeeper as well.

“A secret just isn’t what it used to be,” he said, shaking his head in mock sorrow. “I can feel the weight of my ancestor’s disapproval for sharing it so freely. But what if I came in one day and expired on the spot? It would take centuries for me to be found if someone didn’t know the way in. Ah, here we are. What do you think?”