The Marquess's Christmas Runaway

by Josie Bonham

  “I’m sorry my thoughtless nephew has spoiled your fun. I don’t think we’ll have time for another attempt today.”

  “Don’t worry, Max. We might be able to have another go tomorrow. There’s no sign of a thaw.”

  Georgie smiled at him and he nearly slipped. She had such a sweet smile. If they hadn’t got Peter he would have been tempted to take her off to the shepherd’s hut near the foot of the hill. He gave a sigh of pure pleasure. He was as reckless as Rollo in his way, asking an unknown to marry him like that. Still how many bridegrooms knew their brides well? He seemed to have done rather well for himself. Most young women of his acquaintance would have been a liability in a situation like this. Georgie had stayed her calm self.

  He suppressed a grin. She had been anything but calm in bed and that was both a revelation and another blessing. He could hardly wait to get her to himself. Would there be time before she went off to oversee their Christmas dinner? It was a shame that task would be overshadowed by her discomfort with Mrs Powell. He owed it to her to sort that out as soon as he could.

  He felt Peter wobble and stopped to lift him down. The little scamp snuggled in his arms and his head dropped onto his shoulder.

  “We can sledge this last bit now by the look of it.” He wedged the sledge against a bush with his foot. “Jump on and I’ll hand Peter to you.”

  They settled the sleepy Peter in between Georgie’s legs and Max climbed on to the sledge in front of them. He pushed off with his feet and they glided down the last section of the hill. He jumped off when they reached the bottom. “If you stay on the sledge with Peter I’ll pull you along to the stables.”

  ***

  Georgie gathered Peter to her and watched Max’s broad back as he dragged them across a bumpy patch. A shiver of awareness went through her as she imagined his shoulder muscles bunching to take the strain. She did her best to shield Peter from the worst of the motion. They reached the smoother surface of the path that wound along the base of the hill. She glanced down at Peter and his dark lashes were brushing his cheeks. With the resilience of childhood, he was still fast asleep. He was a darling. Would she ever hold a son of Max’s in her arms?

  She must stop worrying about that and concentrate on trying to make this marriage work. Max seemed a controlled sort of man. It was hard to know what he was thinking. He had done well calming Nat down when he must have been angry himself. He gave every appearance of a man who stuck to his word and Rollo was in for an uncomfortable time that was for sure. There did seem to be a reckless streak in the family. Cecilia had certainly learnt a hard lesson. Hadn’t Max displayed that same impulsiveness when he offered her his hand?

  They were skirting a section of woodland. Was that where they had interrupted their greenery collection to kiss? It had the same musty smell of damp foliage but perhaps all woodlands smelled like that in winter? She sighed. To forge a good relationship with a man like Max and become part of a lively family would be a dream come true. How often had she fantasised about how life would have been if her parents had survived to produce a brood of siblings, including a brother to inherit the family home.

  They reached the stables. Max helped her off the sledge and pulled it into the stables, with Peter curled up on it still fast asleep. He came back with the boy in his arms.

  “I’ve told them to keep all the sledges there ready. We’ll try again tomorrow.” The muscles around Max’s lips tightened. “Without young Rollo.”

  Barton opened the door himself when they reached the house.

  “Lady Eliza is in the drawing room, my lord.”

  They left their outdoor wear with Barton and hurried to see her. Nat was on his knees unlacing Eliza’s half boots.

  “How is she, Nat?” Max asked.

  “She’s got her breath back but her ankle is swelling up.”

  “I can answer for myself, thank you. I might have a sore ankle but my other senses are working.”

  Nat laughed. “I’m almost sorry you’re able to talk again.”

  Georgie watched Eliza bat him on the arm. They were a well-matched couple and Eliza insisted on being taken seriously. Would an example like that encourage Max to want the same or would he naturally be more autocratic than Nat?

  When Nat tried to remove the boot from her damaged foot Eliza let out a squeal.

  “Ouch. That’s painful.”

  Nat managed to remove the boot and a pale faced Eliza sat back.

  “I hope Peter wasn’t too much trouble,” she said.

  Max laid him on the sofa by Eliza. “He’s been asleep since I took him off you. I’ll send Jepson down. He’ll know if it’s broken or not.”

  He moved towards Georgie and put his arm around her waist.

  “I don’t believe it’s broken. By all means send Jepson though,” Eliza said. “I know he’ll have some way of easing it.”

  Nat paced around the room. “I’d still like to flay Rollo alive.”

  “So would I but apart from relieving our feelings it wouldn’t achieve anything.” Max stroked his chin. “Punishment isn’t enough. He needs a lesson in how to be responsible. Let’s leave him to stew for a bit, expecting some sort of retribution. I’ll give it some thought.”

  Max might look in control of his emotions but Georgie could feel the anger in him from the way he held himself. Even the arm around her tightened its hold. She couldn’t suppress a shudder. He definitely had autocratic tendencies. How much freedom would she have with him?

  “What’s the matter, Georgie?”

  “I was thinking I wouldn’t like to be Rollo at this moment.”

  “I’m glad you’re not.” Max grinned at her and she felt his arm relax. “Don’t worry I don’t think you’re capable of ever acting as stupidly as he did today. Let’s go and find Jepson.”

  She allowed Max to lead her up to his bedroom. Her insides were quivering. She would have to deal with Mrs Powell on her own. Eliza wouldn’t be able to help with her ankle injured. Eliza had been wonderful but it was time she faced up to the task of ordering the household. The sooner she got used to Mrs Powell the better but her disapproval was so obvious it was difficult to put it out of her mind.

  ***

  They found Jepson in Max’s bedroom, laying out clothes.

  “Lady Eliza has need of your ministrations, Jepson. She hurt her ankle in a fall off their sledge. She doesn’t think it’s broken but she’s in considerable pain.”

  “Ah. I expect that was what Viscount Summerton was on about. He was the cause of the accident I imagine?”

  “I’m afraid so. He came to my room, did he?”

  “Yes, my lord. He said to tell you that Viscount Summerton wanted a word with you and was most insistent that I have a message sent to him as soon as you came up to change.”

  Max felt his temper rising again. “He was, was he? Well the young whippersnapper can cool his heels a bit longer. Have a footman tell him I send my regards and will be available to meet him in the library at, what shall we say?”

  He shrugged out of his greatcoat and dropped it on the bed. He grinned at Jepson’s pained expression. He extracted his pocket watch and raised his eyebrows at Georgie.

  “What time did you say our Christmas dinner would be ready?”

  “Seven o’clock but Eliza tells me the tradition is to exchange family presents before the Christmas day dinner rather than St Nicholas’s day. I thought half past six would be a good time for everyone to gather.”

  “That gives us four hours. Jepson, tell Viscount Summerton,” he placed extra emphasis on the title, another mark against Rollo - trying to intimidate Jepson with it, “I’ll meet him in the library at half past four. In the meantime, I won’t take kindly to being disturbed.”

  Jepson grinned. “Yes, my lord.”

  Max’s own lips twitched. Rollo was far out if he thought that sort of tactic would hold any sway with Jepson. He sobered up rapidly. Rollo appeared to be harbouring a greatly inflated opinion of his own importance. The do
or closed behind Jepson. He glanced at Georgie to see a vivid blush colouring her cheeks.

  He took both her hands in his. “There is no need to be embarrassed. Jepson is far too well-mannered to be laughing at what he must know are my reasons for not wishing to be disturbed. We were both amused at Rollo’s attempt to influence Jepson by bandying his title around.”

  She nodded but her cheeks stayed a dull red colour. Oh Lord, she wasn’t going to turn missish on him was she after such a promising start? “What is it Georgie?”

  “Rollo is still a boy.” She paused.

  He felt a stab of impatience. They had better things to do than discuss Rollo but he sensed it was important for Georgie to have her say. He smiled at her and waited. At least it wasn’t their marital relations bothering her.

  “You have every right to be angry with him but I don’t think that attempting to impose your will on him has any chance of success with a boy like that.”

  “You’re correct. I assure you I have no intention of trying to do that. It would set a bad example if I did. Any sanctions need to be agreed with his father in any case.”

  “Had you considered that he may have been trying to apologise and used his title to boost his confidence?”

  He laughed. “I can see you are going to act as my conscience. I will bear that possibility in mind.”

  “Are you sure you will? You can be quite intimidating you know.”

  Ah perhaps this was about their relationship? “I hope I don’t intimidate you, Georgie.”

  “No, but Rollo is young enough to attempt to brazen it out and make you even angrier.”

  She blushed again and he took her in his arms. “Sweetheart, I’ve known Rollo since he was a few days old and I’ve worried about how his character is developing. I hope I’m not the overbearing sort of man that I don’t want him to turn into. He must have a care to the rights of others.”

  She stared at the ground. “I’m sorry, Max.”

  He kissed her forehead. “You have nothing to be sorry for, my darling. I want you to be my conscience. With the sort of power that I wield it would be easy to step over the line of acceptable behaviour. Please feel free to bring me to account at any time.”

  She nodded but looked far from convinced. Did she find him intimidating? They still hardly knew each other and she was in a vulnerable position. He would do well to remember that in his dealings with her. Her happiness was important to him.

  “I’ll remember what you said when I talk to him.”

  “Thank you, Max.”

  “You still look worried, Georgie. I don’t expect you to agree with me all the time.” He smiled at her. “How could I with sisters like mine?”

  Her expression relaxed and she laughed up at him. Excitement surged through him and wrought the inevitable consequence. He stood back to gather his composure for a moment.

  “How would you feel if I was to lock the door and we turned our minds to something else?”

  “I think that’s a wonderful idea. Standing next to you like this does terrible things to my insides.”

  He shivered with desire and ran across to lock the outside door of his room. Georgie was waiting for him.

  “Your room?”

  Georgie threw her arms around his neck. “Kiss me first before I explode with longing.”

  He compromised by kissing her and pulling her into her room at the same time. He locked her door and manoeuvred her over to the bed wrapped in his arms. He broke the kiss to throw off his jacket and waistcoat.

  He whispered in her ear. “Would you like to remove the rest of my clothes?”

  She shivered and he laughed out loud. “I can see that you do. Take your time.”

  Her eyes opened wide. She reached up and lifted his shirt. He raised his arms and between them the shirt soon joined the pile of clothes.

  “Do you need help with the buttons on my breeches?”

  She nodded. He loved the way she blushed that delicate shade of pink. Carefully he undid all the buttons on the front of his breeches. Then he waited. She appeared to take a deep breath then helped him step out of them. He grinned when she gasped.

  “I’ve never been one to wear smallclothes with tight breeches. It spoils the line of them.”

  Georgie’s eyes shot to his face. “You remind me of a Greek statue except...”

  Max burst out laughing. “If you mean what I think you mean, thank you for the compliment. However, you never see a male statue when he is being tormented by the nearness of a beautiful woman. It’s my turn to undress you. Unless you would rather I didn’t?”

  “Yes please.”

  She smiled at him and his resolve to take things slowly wavered for a moment. He gritted his teeth, every nerve a quiver. He stripped her clothes off item by item, lingering long enough to kiss each new part of her uncovered. Desire pulsed through him but he kept his passion in check. Gently, he led her to the bed and lay down with her.

  “Now, my adorable nymph, I am yours to command, for a while at least.”

  She stroked his chest and he felt his torso quiver. Her hands travelled to his waist and stopped.

  “Max you said you would explain why I shouldn’t touch you down there.”

  He nibbled her earlobe and grinned as she arched her back. “Because it might spoil our fun. Today I think you can but only for a moment.”

  He kissed her and trembled when her fingers closed around him. He let her explore for a few moments before calling a halt. He put his lips close to her ear.

  “Are you ready for me, sweetheart?”

  In answer she rolled on to her back and pulled him with her. He kept himself in check, ignoring the frantic rhythm of his heart. His kiss was gentle at first but when she responded he deepened it. She sighed when he entered her. He kissed her again, holding still with an effort of will to allow her to set the pace. He didn’t want to rush her. As soon as she moved beneath him his control broke. He managed to make sure she was satisfied before he reached his own release. He lost himself completely in the moment then came to with a start when he realised she was silently sobbing.

  “What is it, sweetheart?” His stomach took a sickening lurch. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  He was rewarded with a watery laugh. “Oh no, I didn’t know such pleasure existed.”

  He lay on his side and pulled her close. “Then why are you crying?”

  She didn’t answer. Something must be wrong. “If you don’t tell me what’s wrong then I can’t help you?”

  Oh Lord, that had come out far too sharply.

  “I’m just happy, Max.”

  “That’s good, my darling.” He hugged her to him. Was there something she wasn’t telling him? He was too tired to work it out.

  ***

  Max hauled himself out from sleep. He grabbed his pocket watch. Good, half an hour should be enough time to change for his interview with Rollo. Georgie sat up next to him. Her hair was hanging loose and she looked as sleepy as he felt.

  “We’re going to have to get up, my love. First though I have a present for you.”

  He climbed out of bed and went into his room. He hadn’t meant to give Georgie the silk nightwear and undergarments for a while yet but the time seemed right and he couldn’t wait to see her in them. He shuddered; it was cold without clothes. Once he had found the package he was looking for he threw his banyan on and returned to Georgie.

  “I’ll give you these now.” He grinned and watched her open the parcel.

  “Oh they’re lovely.” She held up a flimsy silk nightgown and laughed. “I can see why you wouldn’t want to give me these in front of everyone else. I wish I had known about presents, I would have asked you to buy some in Canterbury.”

  “Don’t worry. The archbishop’s staff had me kicking my heels for so long I had time for a lot of shopping. I got you something suitable for public viewing and things for everyone I thought might be here. They can be from both of us.”

  “That’s good. I’m looking
forward to this evening.”

  “We’d better ring for Jepson and Martha. I have to talk to Rollo in half an hour.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “You’re cold.”

  “Martha will soon have the fire roaring. I’m going to offer her the position as my maid unless you have any objection.”

  “None at all. She seems a quick learner and she works miracles with your hair.

  He rang his bell and helped Georgie into one of the silk robes he had given her. He studied her face. For someone who had been so happy a few minutes ago she looked decidedly dejected. What on earth was the matter? Something was bothering her.

  “What’s wrong, nymph? Is it Rollo? I give you my word I will be careful with him.”

  Georgie sighed. “It’s not that. I’ll have to deal with Mrs Powell on my own with Eliza injured.”

  “I promise we’ll resolve that situation as soon as possible but for now you’ll have to face it.”

  “I know and I can manage on the household side. I’m worried about,” she hesitated, “oh I don’t know.” She blushed a fiery red.

  “About what?”

  “She’ll take one look at me and realise what we’ve been doing.” She studied the floor and refused to meet his gaze.

  He winced. He had to take some blame here. It was a bit of a blur but he could remember mistaking her for a whore. If she hadn’t been unsettled by that Mrs Powell’s attitude might not have upset her quite so much.

  “Georgie, you haven’t had much experience in dealing with the superior sorts of servants found in a big household. It will become easier I promise. Besides which the woman should have kept her opinions to herself. She was badly at fault there, so we’re justified in moving her on.”

  There was a knock on the connecting door. He went across and opened it. “Jepson wait for me in the dressing room for a moment if you will.”

  He ran his hands through his hair and walked back towards her. “I’ll turn her off today if you want me to.”

  “No, I’m being silly. I know it’s none of her business. I don’t think we can get rid of her, for a while at least. Come on we’ll both run out of time.”