The Marquess's Christmas Runaway

by Josie Bonham

  “But darling I want you to be enthusiastic.” He laughed. “If you’re not I will have failed you as a lover. Can you be the only woman not to know of my reputation in London?”

  “Of course, I’ve heard about that but women are supposed to be demure not wanton.”

  He kissed her neck and she arched her back. “That’s better. Forget all that nonsense about women not enjoying coupling. It’s just stories told to girls to try and keep them safe from marauding boys. I can’t think of anything worse than a wife who endures, rather than participates in, lovemaking.”

  “Oh. So I don’t need to worry.”

  “Do what comes naturally. I’ll help you. Are you shy about undressing?”

  “Not really, but I expect it will feel strange at first.”

  He threw back the covers and stood up. She watched his hands as he untied his banyan and when he let it slip to the floor she gasped. His body was strong but lean and reminded her of the statues in the gallery of a stately home she had visited with her aunt. Aunt Anne had laughed but hurried her away from them all the same. The flickering light of the fire softened his features. She tried not to look at all of him but couldn’t resist. A moment of panic hit her. How was this going to work?

  “Don’t look so worried. Your first time may hurt a little but it won’t last long. Trust me to look after you.”

  He pulled her to her feet and kissed her until she felt dizzy. She snuggled closer and returned his kiss with the fervour she had managed to restrain in the woods. He put his hands either side of her waist and massaged the bottom of her breasts with his thumbs. She threw her head back with pleasure and he feathered kisses along the sensitive skin of her neck. He stepped back and she felt bereft.

  “Let’s remove your nightdress.”

  She helped him gather it up and slip it over her head with fingers made clumsy by her need for him. The garment joined his banyan on the floor. He picked her up and laid her on the bed before joining her and throwing the covers over them.

  “Your body is beautiful. It’s a pity the room is so cold.”

  They lay on their sides and he explored her with his hands. He put his mouth near to her ear.

  “Feel free to join in but please only touch me above the waist.”

  “Why?”

  Max laughed. “Trust me and I’ll explain later.”

  She ran a hand over the strong muscles of his back. His fingers found the soft flesh of her thighs and she put her head on his chest. There was that lovely smell of warm male again. She must ask him what cologne he wore. She forgot all about cologne as a finger slipped inside her followed by another. He removed them and she whimpered.

  “You’re ready, sweetheart.”

  He raised himself on his arms and moved over her. Keeping most of his weight off her he kissed her. Instinctively she opened her legs and gasped when she felt him gently nudging at her entrance. There was a sharp stab of pain and then she relaxed. She tingled from head to toe and wanted something but wasn’t quite sure what. Her body seemed to be moving of its own accord in time with his. She felt Max reach a hand down between them and something inside her exploded in ecstatic release. She cried out and lifted her hips up. Max shuddered and fell onto her briefly before lifting off and rolling to the side, still with an arm around her.

  Georgie curled up as close to him as she could get. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so relaxed. From the rhythmical sound of his breathing Max had fallen asleep. Perhaps this strange marriage might work out. The more aroused she had become the more he seemed to like it. He must think her dreadfully unsophisticated to worry about appearing unchaste with her new husband. Well now she knew he wanted her to be passionate she could enjoy that side of things. Then perhaps he wouldn’t be tempted to take a mistress when they were in London.

  She pushed the thought to the back of her mind. She was safe and her new husband appeared kind, if a bit irritable at times. He had every excuse for that with the frustration of having his family around, even though he clearly adored them. Perhaps in time he would come to adore her too. At the very least he would try and treat her well from what she had seen of him so far. Even girls whose family should have known better were married off to awful men sometimes. She was lucky and must count her blessings. It would be silly to let fear of Max losing interest in her hold her back from learning to love him. She held a hand to her cheek. Did she perhaps love him a little bit already?

  Georgie felt the covers move off her. She opened her eyes to see Max climbing out of bed and donning his robe. The room felt pleasantly warm and sunlight was slanting around the edge of the drapes making patterns of little flecks of dust. She must have joined Max in sleep. He smiled at her and walked back towards the bed, with the light from the window behind him. She caught her breath. He had a magnificent physique.

  “Georgie, sweetheart, I suspect it will soon be time for us to go to church. As much as I would like to give you a repeat performance,” he grinned at her and her insides fluttered, “I think I had better send for some food.”

  Her stomach growled and she laughed. “I am rather hungry.”

  He bent over her and kissed her forehead. “I’ll have a hot bath prepared for you as well. You may find you are a little uncomfortable after your first time.”

  She felt heat flood her cheeks. Oh dear how long would it take before she felt at ease with being a wife. She didn’t want to bore him with her naiveté.

  “Thank you, Max.”

  “I won’t be long.” He disappeared through the connecting door.

  ***

  Jepson was laying out his clothes in his dressing room when Max put his head around the door. He dispatched him to order a breakfast tray for them to be sent up to Georgie’s room followed by a hot bath at a suitable interval. Their first time had gone better than he had expected, with Georgie throwing off her maidenly modesty to a large extent. It was unnerving to find out that his London reputation was quite so widely bandied about. He had always taken such care to behave with circumspection when he was at Hargreaves. If truth were told he wouldn’t have gone to that wretched pre-Christmas house party if he hadn’t had an eye to Lydia Winters, who had been throwing out lures to him in London. If he had known it was a ring she was after he would have kept well clear.

  He breathed deeply. It was a relief to get their first time over. Now he could relax and ignore his nephews’ childish pranks. Lord how had he thought Georgie a woman of easy virtue in the inn? He must have been as drunk as a wheelbarrow. Pleck kept a respectable house and he should have realised he wouldn’t have any woman in who wasn’t a lady. He slapped his forehead. He’d thrown guineas at her. Could that be why she was so worried about seeming wanton with him? She had grown up with a clerical family; perhaps they had been particularly strict with her on matters of sexuality.

  He would like to think that was all it was and yet he had the feeling something was bothering her. He didn’t want her to be worried about anything. She had definitely enjoyed her first experience with him and showed every sign of having a passionate nature. With luck all would be well. He couldn’t wait to show her off in London. A few weeks quietly at Hargreaves first would be best. It would give her time to settle down and become comfortable with her role. She needed feeding up as well. He went back to join her.

  She was seated on the sofa near to the fire wrapped in her robe. It looked several sizes too big. Eliza must have given it to her. He could give her the fancy set he’d bought but at this time of year she needed a warm robe. As soon as the weather eased he would have to take her into Canterbury to buy some things. They might even be able to find word of her friends at the same time. She looked up and smiled at him. His heart skipped a beat. She was such a sweet girl.

  “Jepson said some of the footmen have been sent up into the attics to find the sledges for this afternoon. Would you like me to ask them to save one for us?”

  “That sounds like fun.” Her face clouded over. “I suppose I
had better talk to Mrs Powell about the Christmas meal before we go to church.”

  “No don’t worry about that. I don’t think you’ll have time. I expect everything is in hand and we can ask Eliza to check.”

  “If you are sure she won’t mind. I’ve been working her hard teaching me what to do in running a house like this.”

  “No, of course, she won’t. I’ll ask her to talk to Mrs Powell while you have your bath.”

  There was a knock at the door and two footman entered at Max’s command. They carried a tray each. One was laden with dishes covered with silver lids and the other chocolate and coffee pots together with plates and cutlery. The footmen placed them on a side table and pulled up two chairs. Max thanked them as they withdrew.

  “Hmm. This looks wonderful. Mrs Powell must have anticipated our order.” To his surprise Georgie’s face turned a vivid red. She blushed easily but even so. He caught her hand. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

  She avoided his glance and stared at the floor. He waited but she said nothing. “Georgie, darling, what have I said to upset you?”

  She gulped and looked up at him. “It’s nothing. It’s just….”

  He squeezed her hand. “If something is troubling you it troubles me. I’m truly famished but I’m not going to eat this wonderful breakfast until you tell me what is wrong.”

  She took a deep breath. “The thing is I’m still not comfortable with Mrs Powell after what …..”

  He ransacked his memory to recall what she had said about Mrs Powell before. Good Lord did the woman have the audacity to say something to her that first day?

  “Mrs Powell didn’t actually voice her suspicions of you being a woman of easy virtue when I brought you back to the house did she?”

  Georgie nodded. Her shoulders drooped and she looked wretched.

  Anger gripped him and he raised his voice a notch. “She had no right to question my motives like that, particularly when it meant insulting my guest. You should have told me the whole story before. Eat your breakfast before it goes cold and we will work out the best way to remove her without causing comment.”

  “That doesn’t seem fair. She was probably being loyal to you at the time. Eliza told me how many women have set traps for you over the years.”

  He handed her a plate. “Perhaps. Don’t worry about her now it’s time for breakfast.”

  What had Eliza told her? She wouldn’t have mentioned Lavinia, would she? No even Eliza would hesitate to bring that episode up. He applied himself to the food. Georgie had a point about fairness but if she had been insulted like that the relationship with her housekeeper was never going to heal if it hadn’t by now. He would have to help Mrs Powell find a similar job and give her a suitable payment in recompense.

  He chomped away at his breakfast. This was good, Mrs Powell had been an exemplary, if cold, housekeeper but he was damned if he was going to have Georgie embarrassed on a daily basis. The pleasant interlude at the Hall he had been looking forward to, with only the two of them, would have to go. They could go to London straight after Christmas if the roads were passable. London was thin of company so early in the season and he could introduce Georgie to some of the finer things the capital had to offer without falling over people he knew all the time.

  Mrs Mills would have Hargreaves House in good order, although it needed refurbishment. Georgie might enjoy supervising that. Mrs Mills was a far gentler soul than Mrs Powell. Now there was an idea. He’d enlist her help. He couldn’t think why Cook had recommended Mrs Powell. He had never taken to her himself.

  Chapter Twelve

  Max smiled and Georgie breathed a sigh of relief. He was so angry about Mrs Powell she wished she hadn’t told him what had happened. The more she thought about it the more she realised she would have to make her peace with the woman somehow. If she asked Max to replace her, as Eliza had suggested, she might be angry enough to spread rumours wherever she moved to.

  The truth itself was scandalous enough to have them ostracised if it got out, whatever Max said. Especially as someone had seen them together in that room at the inn. She frowned and looked out of the window with unseeing eyes. Max caught her hand and ran his thumb over her palm. She shivered and yet heat surged through her body.

  “That’s better. You look more relaxed now. Don’t let Mrs Powell worry you, sweetheart. I have an idea.”

  Georgie shifted in her seat. How she desired this man and he had been so gentle with her. The problem with Mrs Powell didn’t seem important at that moment. She smiled up at him and an answering gleam flared in his eyes. He moved towards her and she closed her eyes waiting for his kiss. There was a knock at the door and he shot upright, leaving her feeling bereft.

  “Come in.”

  There was that cross but controlled note in his voice that she was coming to recognise. Two footmen entered and deposited a tin bath in front of the fire. One of them put more logs on the fire before they left.

  “We are destined to be thwarted, aren’t we?” Max smiled at her. “It’s probably for the best though. I don’t want to wear you out.”

  “I’m sure I would manage.” Georgie rested a hand on his arm and captured his gaze.

  Max shook his head and laughed. “Unless I’m hearing things your hot water is about to start arriving. We can rectify matters later. I’ll see you downstairs in an hour or so. Wear your warmest clothes. We may have to walk to church.”

  She watched his retreating back. She still didn’t know him but what she had seen of him so far was promising. There was no denying the spark of attraction between them. There again not many women would be able to resist Max’s charm and he was known as a womaniser. It would be wise not to read too much into that.

  She thanked the footmen as they emptied their cans of hot water into her bath. More arrived, closely followed by Martha bearing an armful of towels. The last can was emptied and the door shut behind the footmen. Martha added a generous sprinkling of lavender to the water. She climbed into the tub and sat back with a sigh of pleasure.

  “Thank you, Martha, I love the smell of lavender.”

  “There’s a whole garden full of lavender, my lady. It’s next to the rose garden. The old Marchioness loved the gardens. They’re beautiful in the summer.”

  “That sounds exciting. There’s so much I don’t know about this place.”

  She leaned forward so Martha could help her wash her hair. An hour Max had said. She couldn’t afford to stay in the bath too long.

  “I had better get out Martha or my hair won’t be dry in time to go to church.”

  Martha put her head on one side and chewed her bottom lip.

  “What is it, Martha?”

  “Why not wear it shorter? It will be easier to manage. It’s so heavy at the moment it’s a wonder you don’t get a headache when you put it up.”

  Martha held out a towel and she stepped out of the bath into it, drawing it around her shoulders.

  “I’ve got some scissors, my lady. I always cut everyone’s hair at home.”

  Georgie hesitated.

  “I wouldn’t cut too much off. You would still be able to wear it up.”

  Georgie studied her thick chestnut brown hair that hung down to her waist in a silky cloud. It would be a wrench but so much easier to manage.

  “Alright, I’ll have it cut.”

  Martha’s eyes lit up. “Thank you. I love cutting hair. I’ll fetch my scissors.”

  She skipped out of the room. Georgie watched her go. Oh dear. What if Martha messed it up? Well if she did she would have to have it cropped by a professional next time she was in Canterbury or even London. She shivered, London was a scary prospect but sooner or later Max would take her there. She didn’t want to have to face Cousin Mary, or Max’s friends come to that. Surely, he would want to wait for the season to be well established? She could relax for a while yet. She dried herself and slipped on the robe Martha had laid out for her.

  Martha returned and set to on her hair. G
eorgie’s heart beat faster as long locks started hitting the floor around her. What if Max didn’t approve? She squared her shoulders, it was important to hang on to her own identity. Max couldn’t expect to dictate things like that. Eventually Martha gave a grunt that sounded like approval and stood back for a moment.

  “There that looks lovely. Have a look and see what you think, my lady.”

  She stood in front of a large looking glass. Released from most of the weight holding them back her waves became more like large curls. They bounced just above her shoulders.

  “Are you sure it’s long enough to put up?”

  “Oh yes. The curls make it look shorter. Sit on that chair in front of the fire and I’ll help you rub it dry.”

  Martha pulled up a footstool to perch on and between them her hair was soon nearly dry to the touch.

  “Leave it like that until it’s time for you to go and then I’ll put it up in a knot on top, my lady. It should be dry when you go out.”

  Half an hour later Georgie felt ready to face the world. She allowed herself another glance in the looking glass. True to her word, Martha had wound her hair in a topknot high on her head and teased little tendrils into mini ringlets on either side of her head. The girl on the edge of womanhood had been replaced by a lady of fashion. Martha helped her into the warm pelisse and hat Eliza had given her. She almost skipped down the stairs to meet Max.

  Maybe she would be able to fill the shoes of a marchioness successfully. She must do so to fulfil her side of the bargain. At last she had the feeling it could all work out. If she could captivate Max, perhaps he wouldn’t feel the need to carry on with his previous lifestyle. They were cut off from the outside world so she could forget about Cousin Mary for a while. Whatever happened she intended to enjoy herself today.

  Max was chatting to Eliza and Nat at the foot of the stairs. He turned towards her and his eyes opened wide.

  “Georgie, you’ve changed your hair. It looks lovely.”

  He smiled at her and Nat and Eliza receded into the background.

  “It was Martha’s idea. She’s cut quite a bit off so it’s easier to manage.”