by Jane Charles
Hannah grinned up at him. “I find I don’t really care.”
He laughed again then came to his feet before he held out a hand. “However, I best return you. We’ve been gone too long and my desire for you has not waned. I fear it’s dangerous for us to be alone much longer.”
With a sigh, Hannah allowed him to pull her to her feet, then she shook the sand from her gown, no longer worried if the hem was destroyed as it was already damp from the knees down.
Desire. He admitted desire. At least she wasn’t alone in this. Hannah wanted to stay and explore all these new sensations. Ones that she’d never experienced before she was beneath Wingate and he was kissing her.
In a blink she pulled back. This was the very situation her unhappy friends had found themselves in. They’d melted at suitors’ practiced kissing and assumed it meant happy for life. Hannah would not make the same mistake.
“Yes, well,” she stepped back. “We should return. Jillian will have tea.”
Wingate looked at her oddly, but thankfully said nothing further as they strolled back to Sam’s home, hand in hand.
“Should I apologize?” he asked after a short bit, looking down at her with concern.
Hannah glanced up at him and shielded the sun from her eyes. “For what?”
“I took advantage when I shouldn’t have, and now you’re very quiet.”
Hannah glanced away. “I believe I allowed you to do so.” She bit her lip and wondered how much she should confess when she wasn’t certain she could yet get her thoughts in order. “Nor do I think an apology is necessary,” she finally admitted.
“Thank goodness,” he chuckled. “Because it wouldn’t have been heartfelt, simply the polite thing to do as I am not sorry in the least.”
Hannah laughed. “Nor am I, Lord Wingate,” she admitted.
“Ashton.”
Hannah blinked up at him.
“After sharing a night…” he looked around then leaned in. “And, rolling about on the beach, don’t you believe we’ve moved past propriety in how we address the other?”
Hannah’s face heated. “I believe so, Lor…Ashton.”
“Ah, that sounds much better.” He grinned. “And, in further honesty, I’m still not used to being Wingate and every time I hear the name, I have to force myself not to glance about to see if my father is present.”
Hannah winced. It was difficult enough to lose a parent, but doubly so when you inherit the title and are constantly reminded of them. “Then I shall endeavor to address you as Ashton when not in the presence of others.”
“And I will do the same, Hannah.” He lifted her hand and placed a kiss on the back.
“Oh Dear!” Jillian exclaimed as they climbed the steps to the veranda.
“What?” Why was Jillian staring at her with concern?
“I should have insisted that you take the parasol and wear a bonnet.” She pulled Hannah into the shade. “Oh dear, you are going to be miserable.”
“Miserable?”
“Your face, neck and shoulders are going to be quite uncomfortable in the days to come.”
“I don’t understand.” Hannah looked to Wingate who was now also staring at her as well and not with the warmth she’d witnessed on the beach. He appeared more alarmed.
“I hadn’t realized we’d been too long in the sun.” His face colored. “I thought she was blushing.”
Jillian rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to know why you’d believe such a thing, especially since you weren’t chaperoned, and both of your clothing is quite ruined. However, a blush is not causing the pink tone to her skin now.” Jillian pulled her into the house. “I’ll have Cook prepare a mixture of sweet almond oil, honey and spermaceti. It does wonders, which I discovered shortly after arriving here and finding myself in a similar predicament. You stay right here, and inside, and I’ll be back in a moment.”
“I should go,” Wingate announced as Jillian quit the room.
“Aren’t you staying for tea?” Hannah asked.
“I’m truly sorry for your discomfort and wish I would have noted the burn before now.” He winced. “My sister, Eve, suffered as well on the crossing and you should apply the lotion as soon as it is ready to ease future suffering.”
Hannah couldn’t understand why the fuss. Her face was warm and a bit tight, but she was far from uncomfortable.
“I had an enjoyable stroll and conversation, Lady Hannah.” He bowed over her hand and winked to indicate he had enjoyed more than he voiced. “I hope to call on you tomorrow.”
“Yes please,” she answered though she wished he would remain.
“Take care.” Then he was gone.
“Oh dear,” Jillian said once again as she returned.
“I have no discomfort,” Hannah insisted.
“Perhaps not now, but you will.”
“I’m certain that I’ll be fine by tomorrow.” She had to be because nothing was going to keep Hannah from visiting with Wingate. Not now. Not after what they had shared on the beach.
Chapter 11
Ashton winced as he pulled the Hessians and tossed them aside before removing the stockings. Good God, the top of his feet were as red as Hannah’s shoulders.
He had suspected a slight burning of the skin given how painful his feet had become as he rode home, but not to this extent. Why hadn’t he noticed when he put the damn boots back on?
Because he’d been thinking about Hannah and how she’d felt beneath him. The perfection of her body, made for his, with desire to match. Had they not been on the beach where anyone could have found them, Ashton would have been hard pressed not to seduce her.
As it was, he’d lain upon her, between her plump thighs and came close to caressing her breast. Thank God he hadn’t kissed her last night or they would not have been sleeping on separate pallets, but together and most likely naked, where her brothers could have found them.
There would have been no discussion of courtship, betrothal or marriage because he was quite certain the Storm twins would have ordered them dressed and marched them to the first vicar they encountered. Not that a marriage would have taken place since there were still rules, he supposed. In England it would have required a Special License or crying of the banns and as he didn’t know what was required here, Ashton assumed it was the same.
Or, the twins could have issued a challenge and then he would have encountered them at dawn.
Or, worse, they could have discarded all civility and shot him where he stood.
Thank God he hadn’t kissed Hannah while they sheltered from the storm.
Regardless, Ashton was no longer reluctant to marry Hannah. In fact, he was quite eager to do so since his need for her had only grown. Unfortunately, the state of his finances had not, which lessened a good deal of his enthusiasm.
He shouldn’t have kissed her. He shouldn’t have lain in the sand with her. He should have never touched her!
Ashton pinched the bridge of his nose and fell back on the bed. What was he to do?
The woman he wanted deserved more than he could give her, and it was unfair of him to ask her to live in poverty. Further, her brothers had a right to know the truth, before the courtship continued. They may decide that Ashton wasn’t suited or worthy of their sister all on account of his lack of wealth, and he couldn’t blame them. If a gentleman of similar circumstances asked for Eve’s hand, he’d be hard pressed to grant it. No brother wanted their sister living a life of near destitution.
He had no choice. The Storm twins needed the truth, and so did Hannah.
At the scratch at the door, Ashton called for them to enter.
“Oh, dear,” the footman gasped.
Ashton lifted his head. “What?”
“Your feet, Lord Wingate.”
“Yes, they are a little tender.”
“I should say so.” The footman picked up the discarded Hessians and set then near the wardrobe. “I’ll have Cook prepare an ointment, but it is unlikely you will be weari
ng boots for some time.”
Ashton frowned, sat up and looked down at his red feet and toes. “Surely no more than a day. I’m certain all will be well tomorrow.” All had to be well as he needed to call on the Storms.
The footman shook his head and frowned. “You’ll blister in a day or so, then they’ll need to be bandaged. I’d be surprised if you are wearing any footwear before a sennight is over.”
With that he quit the room and all Ashton could do was continue to stare at his feet. Surely the man was mistaken. He couldn’t be barefoot for so long. Surely not a week.
He fell back on the bed again. The footman was simply mistaken. While he might not wish to wear his boots today or tomorrow, surely, he’d be healed enough for the following day, and then he’d call on the Storms.
Maybe the footman mistook him for some dandy who may have visited Roxburg in the past and let something like a simply sunburn keep him from leaving the plantation.
By the time supper arrived, Hannah was indeed miserable. Her face was tight and warm, but her shoulders, upper back and upper chest were worse.
Never, ever would she walk along the beach without completely covering her body. She might even wear a veil, along with her bonnet and carry a parasol.
Through the long night, Hannah woke often either from chills, excessive thirst or discomfort from the bed clothing rubbing against her skin, and by the time breakfast was complete, she remained miserable. However, she was not one to lie around all day and feel sorry for herself. Ashton was to call and even though she looked like a ripe apple recently polished, it was more important not to miss his visit, and the reason she carefully dressed for the afternoon, choosing a similar style gown as she’d worn the day before so that clothing wasn’t rubbing against her tender skin.
And, she waited.
Drank tea with Isabella and Jillian and waited.
Drat! Where was he?
“Her Grace, The Duchess of Roxburg and Lady Eve Grell,” the butler announced.
“Do send them in,” Jillian insisted.
If the duchess were here and Ashton’s sister was here, where the blazes was Ashton?
The two women breezed into the room as if they didn’t have a care and then stopped to stared at Hannah, their mouths agape.
Goodness, did she really look so horrific?
“Wingate said he feared you’d suffer from sunburn,” Her Grace murmured. “Are you terribly pained?”
Hannah’s face heated with embarrassment, but luckily her face was already so red that nobody could tell she blushed. “It is not so bad, Your Grace.”
The duchess rolled her eyes. “Bianca. I’ve asked you to call me Bianca. My sister is married to your brother, we are family, and I’m uncomfortable with the title.”
Hannah found it difficult to address her by her given name. She was a duchess and protocol required how she should be addressed.
Her Grace raised an eyebrow and stared at Hannah. “Say it.”
“What?”
“My name.”
“She’s not going to relent,” Isabella whispered with a grin.
Her Grace crossed her arms over her breast and began to tap her foot.
She wasn’t going to relent. “Bianca.”
At that Her Grace grinned. “That wasn’t so difficult, now was it?” Then she crossed the room and settled beside her sister, Isabella.
No, it wasn’t difficult, but she’d not be doing the same in London. Heavens, the ton would be scandalized.
“You must be in a great deal of pain,” Lady Eve’s green eyes filled with sympathy as she settled in a vacant chair within the grouping. “The same happened to me on the crossing. Lud, I was miserable, and I didn’t go back out on the deck again, at least not during the day, until we docked.”
As Hannah had only taken a daily turn about the deck with Lady Whitley, and always wore her bonnet, she’d not suffered as such.
“Will your brother be joining you today, Eve?” Jillian asked as she handed her cousin a cup of tea.
Her eyes widened as if she’d just remembered something and turned to Hannah. “I apologize for not saying something immediately, but I’m afraid my brother is unable to call on you this afternoon.”
A stab of disappointment stung her heart.
“He was going to write a note of explantation, but as it is not proper to write to a miss, he asked that I deliver his regrets.”
“I thought his concern for propriety was all rather silly,” Bianca dismissed as she accepted a cup of tea. “After one walks along the water’s edge with a miss, when both have discarded their stockings, shoes and boots, propriety has already been tossed away, don’t you think?”
Hannah feared she was being judged, but there was a twinkle of laugher in her pewter eyes.
Thank goodness Bianca wasn’t truly disappointed in her because Hannah could only imagine what her reaction would be if they knew that she and Ashton had been alone the night of the storm or what they’d done on the beach. In fact, she’d be quite ruined.
“There is good cause for his absence, however.” Bianca took a sip of tea, leaving Hannah to wonder if she was going to be told the reason.
“I told him it was silly of course, since apparently you’ve already seen his feet.” Lady Eve burst out laughing.
“You shouldn’t laugh at your brother, Eve,” Bianca scolded. “He’s quite uncomfortable.”
“Has he been injured?” Isabella asked.
“His pride, I suppose.” Lady Eve laughed again. “However, I shouldn’t be unkind, as he took care of me on the ship and has my best interest at heart, but his circumstance is quite unusual.”
“Unusual?” Jillian asked, for which Hannah was grateful as she didn’t want to be the one who was overly curious.
“According to a footman, he can’t get his boots on,” Bianca announced. “At least not without a good deal of pain, and thus the reason why he could not call on Hannah today.”
“I went to see him straight away when we learned. Goodness, the tops of his feet might be redder than your shoulders Hannah,” Eve stated. “I doubt my brother will be in a position to leave Roxburg’s plantation for at least a few days.”
She’d not see him for a few days?
Oh blast, her first thoughts shouldn’t be of herself, but of him. If his feet were half as painful as her shoulders, it might be more than a few days before he’d be comfortable in footwear again.
“Please tell him that I wish him a full and quick recovery,” Hannah finally offered.
And, as much as she wanted to see Ashton again, and hoped that he’d kiss her again, perhaps it was best that he didn’t see her in this state, given the reaction of Bianca and Lady Eve. She must truly look a fright and as soon as they’d completed their visit, Hannah rushed to her chambers to gaze into the mirror. She’d only given herself a quick glance earlier but now she saw what they did. Her face was quite puffy and if it swelled further, she’d not be able to see her eyes, or perhaps not even be able to see.
Never, ever, again would she walk along the water without a bonnet and parasol.
Ever!
With that, she removed her gown, all clothing, and slipped into bed. She was so tired but had forced herself to be ready for when Ashton arrived, now she just wanted to sleep and with any luck, when she did awake, her burn would be gone and the puffiness of her face decreased.
Chapter 12
The blisters began the following afternoon and a footman, who had experience in treating such burns, provided salves and ointments and Ashton partook of rum.
“How long before they are back to normal?”
“That is hard to say, Lord Wingate.” The footman studied the tortured tops of his feet. “It will depend on when the blistering subsides, though the tenderness will remain. Perhaps a sennight.”
“A sennight?” he nearly yelled, even though the length of time had already been predicted, Ashton had refused to accept the possibility. He couldn’t go that long without se
eing Hannah. He didn’t want to go that long.
“It might not take so long, but you must have a care and not wear anything that could cause further injury, such as your boots.”
“So I’m to walk around the plantation in my bare feet?”
“It would be my suggestion, yes, but only until the blisters start to leak and then we will wrap your feet, but I strongly recommend that you avoid all footwear for the time being.”
Just the idea of pulling on a Hessian made Ashton cringe since he’d tried to do that very thing this morning. Not only was it too painful, but his foot was also too swollen to fit properly.
“It’s best to simply relax and not walk any more than necessary,” the footman advised. “Is there anything I can get for you?”
An immediate cure for this blasted inconvenience, is what Ashton wanted to bark, but he’d not do so. It wasn’t the footman’s fault Ashton was in this predicament.
“If Roxburg has any news sheets from the area, I might enjoy them with my afternoon tea.” He looked around his chambers not certain what to do with himself. And though he’d like to sit in the shade on the veranda and enjoy the ocean breeze, it wasn’t to be done as he wasn’t properly clothed. If this were his home and he was alone, Ashton would do so, but he’d not scandalize those who lived within the house.
“A bottle of rum and a glass as well,” he added to his request.
“Very good,” the footman exited, and Ashton made his way to the chaise, more suited for a woman’s sitting room than that of a gentleman, but Ashton was happy that it was available for use. At least it was by an open window. There he settled upon it and stretched out his legs. He dearly hoped that he wasn’t stuck here for days on end while his feet healed and never, ever again would he ever remove his boots and stockings to walk along the beach.
If he was in this much pain, Hannah must be suffering doubly from their stroll. It was a shame that the two of them couldn’t be miserable together. At least they’d be together.
The thought gave Ashton pause. Since when was he ever so eager to visit a miss?
