by Sahara Kelly
He looked up and met a worried gaze from her ocean blue eyes. “Don’t be. You could never, under any circumstances, disgrace me.”
Her expression changed and he could’ve sworn he saw impish sparkles dancing at the back of those eyes.
“Well, now, I might be able to think of a few areas that could be problematic.” She put her gloved finger to her chin and gazed upward in thought.
“You won’t disgrace me, love.” Charles muttered, mounting his horse beside her. “But I have a suspicion you’ll push my patience to the limits…”
Chapter Nineteen
The journey back to Fontaine House was accomplished without incident, which made Charles very happy. The past week had been so fraught with adventure that a morning of quiet riding along roads that were drying out—well it was a pleasant relief.
He caught the hitch in Hannah’s breath as she caught her first glimpse of his home and smiled at her widened eyes and excited face.
“Charles. Is that really your home?”
“Our home now, Hannah. What do you think?
“I think it’s rather large for the two of us.” She grinned at him.
“You won’t get lost, I promise you. Come on, time to introduce you to the world of the Fontaines.”
He spurred up his horse, and Hannah followed suit, the two of them cantering up the gravel driveway and arriving somewhat breathless at the front steps where the door was already opening.
“Welcome home, my Lord.”
“Sharpley. Glad to see you. Please tell me you managed to evict my aunt and her flock?”
“I did, sir. Lady Grassemaine asked me to express her sadness that you left before her arrival.”
“I just bet she did.” He glanced at his butler. “What did she actually say?”
Sharpley cleared his throat. “I believe the words damned cur of a nephew were involved, sir.”
“That sounds more like it. Here, come and meet Lady Penvale.”
Charles watched with amusement as the older man’s expression transformed from the perfect butler into complete bewilderment.
“I beg your pardon, sir?”
“Lady Penvale,” said Charles, helping Hannah from her horse. “My wife.”
“Ah.” Sharpley swallowed and took a deep breath, gathering himself from his shock. “Welcome, Lady Penvale. We were not expecting you, but it is a pleasure to…to…”
He lost himself as Hannah turned her sunniest smile on him.
“Thank you. Sharpley, is it? Well I know I’ll be relying on you to show me how to go on.” She leaned toward him a little. “And between the two of us, if you’ve managed to take such good care of Charles all these years, then you have my undying admiration.”
“You are very kind, Ma’am.” Sharpley bowed deeply.
“Charles,” she whispered. “He called me Ma’am.”
“That’s correct. You will be my Lady, Lady Penvale or possibly Lady Hannah. And Ma’am in informal situations.”
She chuckled. “Shall you call me Ma’am when we’re…informal?”
A choking sort of sound emanated from the butler’s throat.
“Come on, Lady Hannah. Get used to the titles and come see my home.”
Sharpley leaped to attention, directing a footman to carry in the bags, and a servant to summon the housekeeper.
Before long, the chaos of an unexpected wife had subsided into a gentle buzz, Hannah had a maid who was beyond thrilled to wait on her new Ladyship, and Charles had the satisfaction of seeing his wife finally where he wanted her—safe in his drawing room, pouring tea.
Although the place he wanted to see her most was, of course, in his bed. But that would have to wait for a few hours yet.
She had declared her suite perfect, investigated the connecting door to his, and happily donned a dress left behind by one of Aunt Agatha’s girls. It was the wrong color and not a great fit, but she didn’t seem to worry too much about it.
He made a mental note to ask about local dressmakers. He didn’t want to take her to London yet. He needed time with her to learn how to be a good husband.
And there remained the overriding issue of how to deal with her father. Charles wanted that matter settled because he could not trust a man who treated his daughter the way Derby had treated Hannah.
His self-absorbed greed overruled any parental interest or care, which made him a danger to Hannah. And that, Charles knew, could not be tolerated.
So the first weeks of their honeymoon were spent in a state divided between watchfulness and newlywed bliss.
The watchfulness resulted in the hiring of several new footmen, solidly built, young, and happy to provide extra security. They were ex-soldiers, used to the concept of patrol duty, and were ideal for Charles at this time. Plus he provided uniforms and a steady wage—something too many returning soldiers found themselves lacking.
Hannah’s wardrobe was increased tenfold with the assistance of a charming seamstress who declared herself overjoyed to work with Hannah.
Since his wife wasn’t picky about her clothes, Charles was content to leave the whole business to Miss Winthrop, and his decision was rewarded by the attractive dresses Hannah began to wear. He also approved of the silk lingerie she chose.
“I thought you’d like it, Charles.”
She sprawled seductively across his bed. “There’s something about silk, and this shade of blue is particularly attractive.”
It was bliss, to see his Hannah in his rooms, practically naked before his appreciative gaze. “It is a lovely shade indeed. Take it off.”
“I thought you might like to.” She pouted.
“Sometime later, perhaps. Tonight I’d like to watch you do it.”
“Hmm.”
A glint of curiosity flashed in her eyes—he’d seen it before and knew he’d caught her interest. Once that happened, she would enter into the spirit of the moment, eager to learn, to experience—even to experiment. She was naturally sensual, reveling in the act of love in all its incarnations, without any shyness or reticence.
Every day Charles knew he’d made the right choice at last, and this night was no exception.
Hannah slithered off the bed and moved to the candles, blowing out all but a few next to the bed. “Come, husband.” She patted the linens. “Rest up here on the pillows.”
Already she’d taken control of the situation. He didn’t mind in the least, but followed her instructions. “Very well.”
“Now I shall delight you by removing my nightgown.” She shot him a wicked glance. “You devil.”
“Delight me, wench.”
“Yes, my Lord.” A giggle slipped out, but then she shook her hair free and slipped one thin strap down as she unfastened the ribbon holding the top in place.
She settled on her knees, just out of his reach. “Are you not warm in your robe, dear?”
He’d forgotten he was wearing it and swore softly. “Damn, you’re a distraction.” He removed the robe and tossed it to the floor.
“I find it a trifle warm in here myself.”
The other strap fell and the blue silk clouded at her waist. Her breasts were hidden beneath the black ripples of silky hair, and Charles held his breath.
“Should you not divest yourself of your nightshirt, Charles? You won’t be needing it. I will keep you warm…” She purred as she teased him with a glimpse of her body.
He gulped and wriggled out of the damn thing. It was strangling him and tangled around his cock, anyway.
“There. That’s how I like you.”
She had turned the tables on him.
He had stripped naked while she was still a tantalizing and sensual vision in black hair and blue silk. He sighed, but hell. He certainly wasn’t about to object.
“And now, my dear…it’s your turn.” He lay back on the pillows, ignoring his erection, focusing on her.
She smiled, a siren’s lure promising delights beyond imagination. She was indeed a natural sensualist, and Charles co
uldn’t be more thrilled.
She rose to her knees, letting her gown fall to pool against her calves. Her nakedness shone in the candlelight, her skin gleaming like fresh cream and her woman’s hair curling amidst the shadows between her thighs.
She was glorious, and when she lifted her arms, tilting her head back and tossing her hair behind her…his heart nearly tripped over itself and his lungs seized.
“I love being naked with you.” She shifted, moving toward him, leaving her nightgown behind.
He reached for her, but she shook her head. “Let me.”
She moved over him, straddling him, eager for this position which had caught her attention a few nights before. It gave her more control and she seemed to derive great pleasure from riding him at her own pace.
He, of course, being a sensible man, was quite happy to give her the reins, as he did on this night.
“Come then. Show me what you’d like.” He slithered down a little to make it easy for her. There were times he forgot how much taller he was.
“I like you, my Lord. Like this.” She took his cock into her small hands. “Hard. Strong.” She stroked him. “Mine.”
His heart picked up a few extra beats as she continued her affectionate caresses. “Er, Hannah? Feel free to—oh I don’t know—be a little less gentle? You won’t break me, you know.”
“I know that, silly.” She kept up her soft movements, driving him to grit his teeth. “But I do like the feel of you, so strong beneath such soft skin…”
He choked down a groan of impatience and watched her face as she touched him.
Then he caught a glimpse of teal blue eyes beneath long eyelashes. The brat was playing with him. Teasing him.
Well two could play at that game.
For once he blessed his height because he could easily reach around and grab one of her nicely rounded buttocks.
He squeezed it gently, then tugged a little, letting his fingers slide toward the crease.
She shifted. “Mmm.” Her strokes faltered just a tiny bit.
His hand moved again and he stretched out his fingers, finding the delicate place between her buttocks where the skin was most sensitive. He stroked the little puckered rose.
She jumped a foot, thankfully letting go of his cock before she did so.
“Jesus God, Charles. What did you do?”
He blinked, keeping his expression as innocent as possible. “Why I love the feel of you, darling. So soft and tender…”
She narrowed her eyes. “You are so amusing, husband.”
With that pronouncement, she moved above him and promptly lowered herself onto his cock. Abruptly and with intent.
Which was exactly what he wanted.
He grabbed both her hips, steadied her and let her ride, loving the way her body moved over his and how natural a rhythm she established. It was as if she’d waited her whole life to share this experience with him.
He lifted himself into her, thrusting as she pressed down, tight and wet and hot around him.
Her breasts bounced in time with their movements and the fire rose rapidly between them, as it always did.
Charles was lost…swirling in everything that was Hannah. Her eyes were unfocused, teal pools of passion and desire. Her lips were red and parted, her cheeks flushed—and when she arched back with a muted cry, he lifted her clean off the bed, exploding inside her even as she rolled through her own release.
Her body grasped his, an iron fist coated in wet fire. Her spasms milked him violently, almost painfully, as he emptied himself deep into her darkness, marveling at the miracle that always seemed to envelop them.
Maybe even her womb.
As they tumbled apart, panting and sated, Charles couldn’t help but wonder if they had just made their first child.
And wouldn’t that be the most amazing miracle of all?
He gathered her silently to him, tucked them both beneath the quilt, and fell asleep.
*~~*~~*
It wasn’t too much longer before Hannah cornered her husband in his office after breakfast one morning.
“Charles, may I speak with you a moment?”
He put his papers aside. “Of course, love. You don’t need to ask. Is everything all right?”
She came and stood next to the desk. “You’re busy.”
“Just estate paperwork. Shouldn’t take me too long.”
She ran her hand along the edge of the desk as she turned to walk to the window. “That’s the trouble.”
“What’s the trouble?”
She turned, hesitating for a moment, then deciding to be honest. “You work, Charles. You do paperwork necessary for the estate. I dither amongst linens, china and menus. You go out with the groundskeeper and discuss flocks and crops. I potter among roses with the gardener.”
She sighed. “I’m useless. I potter and dither while you do useful things.”
He was silent for a few moments. “I take it you don’t like pottering and dithering?”
“It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s that I feel…at loose ends. I’m used to working, Charles. I was little more than a servant at home and a proper servant at the Sow’s Ear. I certainly don’t want to polish the silverware, but I need a sense of purpose.” She gulped. “I’m a failure at being a Lady.”
Incredibly he smiled, then stood and moved to her side, taking her hand in his. “Firstly, you could never be a failure at anything. You are Lady Penvale and much beloved by your husband. And, I will add, your staff, who have nothing but praise for you.”
“Really?” This was news to Hannah.
“Yes. They won’t tell you to your face, of course. That would be impertinent. But they already care for you as one of the Fontaine family. That says a lot.”
“Goodness.” She leaned against him. “Thank you for telling me.”
“Secondly, you’re right.”
She leaned some more. “I think you’d better repeat that, just in case I mis-heard what you said.”
“Don’t be cheeky, Lady Penvale.” He chuckled, the rumble tickling her ear where it was pressed against the side of his chest. “But you are right in that you do need a purpose. There are many women who seem to think pottering and dithering are the sum total of a lady’s daily activities, interspersed with tea and gossip, and followed by balls, soirees and other evening activities.”
She squeezed his hand. “I like the other evening activities.”
“Don’t distract me.”
“Sorry.”
“I’m extremely glad to learn that you don’t care much for dithering and that pottering leaves you unfulfilled. I’m not sure I’d have enjoyed having a wife who considered them a day’s work. Which is probably why I love you, because you understand all that I just said even though some of it doesn’t quite make sense to me.”
She sighed. “I love you, Charles. And yes, I understand that you understand.” She paused. “You know, I think being married has turned both our brains to porridge. We’re not even making sense when we talk anymore.”
They stared at each other for a second or two, then burst out laughing.
“It’s those other activities,” she giggled. “They’re rendering us incompetent.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” agreed Charles. “But here’s something that will please you and put your brains back to work. Dev is arriving tomorrow.”
“Oh lovely.” Hannah was thrilled. “It will be wonderful to see him again.”
“Well it’s time for us to go back to reality, and I need Dev’s ability to devise strategies.”
She sobered. “This is about my father?”
He nodded. “I confess to keeping you close to the house, love. I am guilty of contributing to the pottering and dithering, since it was my belief that the less you were seen, the better. By now, word of your presence has gently made its way through the village and beyond, but every hour, every day it took, bought us a day free of your father’s attention.”
It was her turn t
o nod. “I understand.” And she did. “In my turn, I will admit to feeling secure here. I haven’t been in a hurry to circulate locally for fear that he might try something else. And we still have no idea about this talisman business or how to counter his actions.”
“That’s why I invited Dev. He has been a part of this and I believe he’ll help us see it through to the end.”
“I agree.” She took comfort from the warmth of his hand, and lifted it to her cheek for a moment. “Charles, I—“
“Hush.” He stopped her with a finger on her lips.
“But—“
“You were going to apologize and I will not permit that. You are not responsible for your father’s actions. You never were and you never will be. So not another word, all right?”
“Yes, dear.” She kept her eyes downcast and her voice soft and respectful.
Charles wasn’t buying it. “Nice try, brat.”
She shot him that look from beneath her lashes. “Going to spank me, then?”
God, she loved to hear him give that particular soft choking sound. It meant she’d aroused his interest. His sensual interest.
And that night, he did indeed administer some well-deserved corporal punishment to his Lady’s naked buttocks.
She loved it.
Chapter Twenty
Dev arrived in the middle of a rainstorm.
“Good God, man. Must you always bring bad weather with you?” Charles shook his friend’s hand while insulting him.
Hannah ran down to the front hall to welcome Dev and gave him a huge hug. “You’re wet.”
Dev rolled his eyes. “You cannot imagine how glad I am to be here. One of you insults me and the other states the obvious. I really hope I’ve earned at least one brandy for putting up with you both.”
Charles laughed as Hannah led Dev to the drawing room and stood him in front of the fire.
“There. Now you can steam for a bit while Charles fetches your brandy. How are you, Dev? It’s wonderful to see you.”
