Veils of Silk(45)

"Kenneth was the only one who really talked to me. When Tatyana introduced us, he went down on one knee so our eyes were leve and said that he was very pleased to meet me, Larissa Alexandrovna, as if he really was pleased. And he didn't only talk—he listened. When my mother asked for my preference, I didn't hesitate. The next day she told me that she was to marry Mr. Stephenson and we were going to live in England."

"Were they happy together, the peacock and the owl?"

Laura nodded. "Oddly enough, they were. I think my mother had had enough of high romance and melodrama. She told me once that a woman should marry for friendship and stability." Tatyana had gone on to say, with a twist of bitterness, that passion was as treacherous as shifting sand.

"It was wise of her to ask you for your choice," Ian said reflectively. "A child was most likely to look beyond the exterior trappings to the essence of the man. Kenneth Stephenson might not have been the best choice in worldly terms, but he was surely the best available stepfather for you."

Laura repressed a slight shiver. "The mere thought of having a different man as stepfather gives me the chills. But I wasn't the only one to benefit. Perhaps Tatyana didn't love Kenneth at first, but she did later. Much as she enjoyed flirting, she never looked seriously at another man."

She glanced at Ian. "Now you know everything interesting about me, Lord Falkirk."

"I doubt it, Larissa Alexandrovna Karelian Stephenson Cameron, Baroness Falkirk," he said with a smile. "But I think this is enough pillow talk for today. We need to get up, breakfast, and be on our way."

Laura nodded and climbed out of the bed, then languidly stretched her arms over her head, arching her back to loosen her muscles. She felt wonderful. The emotional highs and lows of the last day must have been good for her.

As she straightened, she saw that Ian was watching her with an odd, strained expression. As she gave him a puzzled glance, he drew her into his embrace. "Thank you for marrying me, Laura." Then he kissed her.

She loved the feeling of his lips on hers, and the warm, tingly sensation that spread through her. What marvelous, sensitive things mouths were. And the rest of him felt quite wonderful, too. When he lifted his head away, she said rather breathlessly, "Thank you for coming up with the idea, then talking me into it."

He smiled, then turned away. "I'll dress in the bathroom."

Her gaze followed him as he collected his clothing, then walked out of the bedroom. Thoughtful of Ian to leave. She had enjoyed sleeping with her new husband, but she still felt shy about disrobing in front of him. Perhaps in time she would feel less self-conscious.

As she summoned the young maid who had been assigned to her, Laura reflected on how well everything was working out. Though she had been frightened by Ian's despairing mood the night before, the aftermath had brought them closer.

As Ian had said, it was not the typical wedding night. But it was not a bad beginning for a marriage based on friendship.



12th January 1840. We made the mistake of talking politics and ever since the atmosphere has been horribly strained. Ian and I are both killingly polite, when in truth each of us would give our immortal soul to be free of the other's company for even an hour. Bloody English warmonger.



Laura smiled wryly and rested the journal on her knees. Uncle Pyotr always referred to Ian as English on the occasions when the two men were at odds.

She tried to imagine what it would be like to be confined day and night with another person, to never have an instant's privacy. Even she and her stepfather might have gotten occasionally tired of each other's company. It must have been far worse for two strong-minded military men who came from hostile nations.

She glanced up and saw that Ian had taken the three horses down to the stream to drink. It was their fourth day on the road, and they were taking a lunch break. At least, Laura had eaten. As usual, Ian had consumed scarcely enough to nourish one of the little striped palm squirrels.

They had fallen into a comfortable travel routine, moving at a pace that covered a fair amount of ground without being too tiring. Laura knew that Ian would be going much faster if he were alone, but he was always considerate of her comfort. His quiet solicitude made her feel cherished; in return, she pampered him in small ways that he seemed to enjoy.

Every night so far they had stayed at government-operated dak bungalows, which were austere but adequate. An odd sort of honeymoon, perhaps, but she was perfectly content. The pleasure of having Ian next to her more than compensated for the mild inconvenience of sleeping in a lamp lit room.

He still wasn't sleeping a full night. Often he quietly rose and went for fresh air. But he always came back, and there had been no repetition of his wedding night breakdown.