The Seduction of His Wife

by Tiffany Clare

“Have you a fun afternoon planned?” he called after her.

  With a sly look over her shoulder, she said, “Very fun, and I think you can do me a favor. Come to the kitchen. I need to find something to open these bottles.” She raised them, one in each hand.

  His smile—more a smirk, really—brightened as he walked toward her and took the wine from her hands. Was it her imagination, or had he caressed her hand a little longer than he needed to? Had he leaned in close to her and taken a long inhalation?

  With a shrug, she started up the stairs, aware that he stared at the sway of her hips as they climbed the rounded staircase. It never hurt to exaggerate the wiles of a woman during a flirtation. For now, Grace had to concentrate on Emma. She was sure she could save her sister’s marriage or at least push it in the right direction.

  When her sister was taken care of this afternoon, maybe she’d indulge more in Mr. Lioni’s company. She’d just have to keep her head about her and make sure the flirtation didn’t turn into something she couldn’t keep control of.

  Chapter 10

  Why won’t you come home? What is it I’ve done wrong?

  This was a very bad idea. Emma hadn’t been thinking clearly when agreeing to the charade her sisters had orchestrated. She did not want to do this right now. Not after the letter she’d received from Waverly shortly after their breakfast. Thank goodness she’d intercepted it before Richard had seen it.

  “Why did you wait for my husband to arrive at Mansfield Hall before mandating these challenges?” Emma asked of Abby.

  Emma pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders and sat on the stone bench in the garden. She couldn’t figure out what her sisters had planned. But she welcomed any distraction. She would forget about the letter till later.

  Abby snorted. “We didn’t intentionally time it that way. We’ve never had the opportunity before now, Em. We’ll be away from prying eyes this afternoon.”

  Emma raised a questioning brow. She wasn’t entirely convinced of that. “Where is Grace?”

  “She’s gathering together a few items.” Abby looked over Emma’s shoulder. “Your ears must be burning, Grace. Em just asked what was taking you so long.”

  Grace winked at Abby, then held the wicker picnic basket in her hands aloft.

  “Your big plans for this afternoon are to go on a picnic?” Emma rolled her eyes. Really, couldn’t her sisters be more inventive than that?

  “Hardly,” Grace responded as she looped her arm through Abby’s. “We needed to procure a few items to help you achieve your first task.”

  “When will you enlighten me?” Emma asked.

  “Soon.” Abby took Emma’s arm, tugging her along the cobbled path.

  “Don’t you think you should tell me what we’re doing?” Both sisters turned to her and raised one brow each. “What if I don’t agree to the challenge?”

  “A valid point.” Grace tugged them toward the apple orchard. They could easily get lost amongst the tidy rows of trees. She put the basket on the grass and took a blanket from inside and set it out on the ground. “We’ll only reveal the dare after we’ve had a bottle of wine.”

  “Our great plan for the day is to drink a bottle of wine?” Emma snorted in disbelief. “Grace, I didn’t know you took to such habits.”

  “It’s only to help loosen your inhibitions,” Abby chimed in, taking the bottle from the basket. “I think Brown stuck the cork back in too far, Grace. I can’t get it out.”

  “Mr. Lioni opened the wine for me.” Grace blushed a pretty shade of red at the mention of the visiting gentleman. “He promises to keep our secret.”

  “Sneaking wine in the middle of the day is hardly secret-worthy.” Abby wedged the bottle between her legs and yanked at the cork with both hands. Without so much as spilling a drop on her white dress, she pulled it free with a pop.

  Taking the glasses from the basket, Abby poured out the ruby liquid to the brims. When she was done, she set the empty wine bottle back in the basket and raised her glass. “I think we should have our first sip as a hearty cheers to our sister for allowing us to dare her.”

  “I agree.” Grace raised her glass and clinked it against Abby’s.

  “Why do I have this sinking feeling that I’ll live to regret this?” Emma made a toast with her sisters and took a small sip of the dry wine. “When will the big reveal be, then?”

  “Well,” Grace started, fanning her skirts around her so they covered her stretched-out legs. “We’ve decided that you need to climb a tree.”

  Emma laughed and sat down between her sisters. She had to hand her glass off to Abby in fear of spilling the red liquid over their white quilt. “You can’t be serious. That is the funniest thing I’ve heard in ages.” She took a gulp of air and tried to calm her breathing. It didn’t work. It was so preposterous. Gales of mirth flowed from her, but her sisters sat stoically next to her, expressions steady and filled with amusement.

  “We are serious.” Abby took a long swallow from her wine and passed Emma’s back to her.

  “We figured it better to start small. We already agreed that the tasks shouldn’t be impossible to accomplish,” Grace reminded her.

  “Why would you want me to climb a tree?” Emma looked at the trees around them.

  “Because you never did when we were children.” Grace shrugged. “You should live life to the fullest. Whenever else will you have a chance?”

  “I agree. You want to enjoy the simpler things in life before you are too old for such tasks,” Abby added.

  Emma narrowed her eyes and glared at her youngest sister.

  She was not old.

  “I hardly need wine to fortify me for this.”

  “No, you don’t.” Grace laughed. “We just thought it would be fun if we did this while slightly inebriated.”

  Emma looked over her sisters in bemusement. This really wasn’t so bad. And it was a much better way to spend her afternoon as opposed to worrying about the contents of Waverly’s letter. It was a reminder of his promise to call on her again; a reminder that her painting wouldn’t remain his secret alone for long.

  Climbing a tree would pass the time. Nothing more. Well, it did seem fun and a more than amusing way to spend their afternoon together. It was also a good way to avoid her husband. She didn’t know how she would face him after last night.

  “You hardly needed a wager to make me do this.” Emma stood on the quilt, eyeing the selection of twenty-foot apple trees around them. “Which one shall it be?”

  Abby grabbed her hand and hauled her back down to the makeshift picnic they’d set up. “No, you don’t seem to understand. You will have to take off your shoes and stockings. This is why we have the wine fortification.”

  “Abby and I plan to participate.” Grace took another swill of the claret.

  Emma scrunched up her face as she took another drink of her wine. She had never acquired a taste for wine or spirits of any sort, but the more she drank, the better it started to seem.

  “Is there water?” Emma asked.

  “That would be cheating,” Abby said. “No, we’ll have our toast, then strip out of our unmentionables so it’s easier to climb the trees.”

  To Emma’s astonishment, Grace procured another bottle of wine from the basket.

  “I guess you didn’t think to bring any food to snack on. It’s all wine in that basket, isn’t it?”

  “Indeed it is.” Abby hiked up her skirts to untie her leather kid shoes. “You should do as I am, Emma. You wouldn’t want your younger sisters to shame you in a little tree climbing.”

  Tipping up her glass, Emma downed the rest of the contents. She was a tad light-headed, and doubted she needed another glass to help her partially disrobe. She was not shy with her sisters. They were all women here. Reaching under her skirts she found the laces at the side of her boots and pulled them off.

  “I do believe you will both lose this wager. This is hardly something I wouldn’t have done had you ever bothered to ask.” />
  “And I think the wine is already speaking for itself.” Grace hiccupped and pushed another full glass into Emma’s hand. It was filled to the top again. “Looks like we will polish off two bottles amongst us.”

  “Goodness, what will the household think of us when we arrive stumbling back in their midst?” Emma giggled. Oh, dear, she must be quite far gone, because she never giggled.

  “It’s not as if it’ll matter to us at that point.” Abby hiked her skirts up even higher to release the garter on her hose and roll them down. “I suggest you do the same. You won’t get a good grip with your feet otherwise.”

  Emma slid her hands under the multitude of her skirts to release her garters. Silly of them to intoxicate themselves for such a cause. But now that she was tipsy she didn’t much mind. It lent a certain euphoria to the experience.

  “You do realize I’m one step closer to winning this challenge?” she pointed out.

  “One can never tell the final outcome until the task at hand is completed.” Grace stood from the quilt and walked over to the nearest tree and latched her hands around the lowest resting branch. Wedging her bare toes into a curve near the base of the trunk, she hauled herself up. “I’m sure I only did this once growing up. It’ll be quite fun to see if I can still manage a good climb. Come along. I don’t want to be the only one in a tree.”

  “I’m simply strategizing,” Emma stated.

  Tucking her stockings into her boots, Emma decided on the tree next to Grace’s chosen one. It had a low-hanging branch that was easy to wrap her hands around. She hadn’t thought climbing trees hard until she actually put herself to the task. She levered her foot into a dark, scaly knot and tried to pull herself up. Her grip around the bark wasn’t tight enough, and she slipped off the tree and back to the ground. At least she landed on her feet and not her rump.

  Hands on her waist, Emma looked up at the imposing task her sisters had set forth. Surely, the wine she’d gulped down wasn’t helping the situation. Standing up on her toes, she wrapped her arms around the fattest of the lower branches. Problem was, she wasn’t strong enough to lift herself from the ground.

  “You have to use your legs to kick you up once you have a hold on the branch, Emma.” Abby was already sitting on the heavy hanging branch of her chosen tree, directly across from them.

  “That is precisely what I tried to do,” she called back.

  Determined not to fail at the very first task she’d been given, Emma set her foot against a little ledge and pushed up. She managed to haul herself so her stomach lay over the lower branch of the tree. Thankfully, it was wide enough to support her weight.

  Throwing her leg over one side, she twisted her skirts to rest on either side of the branch and sat up. It seemed natural to give a great hoot as she sat there with a leg on either side of the heavy branch. She was far too impressed by her accomplishment.

  “Excellent work.” Grace had already made it halfway up her tree, and it looked as though she’d tied her skirts around her hips so they wouldn’t impede her progress. “All you have to do is keep pulling yourself up. The hardest part is over.”

  “Easy for you to say. I’ve never had need to climb a tree before. It would be a great deal easier if we were wearing trousers.”

  “Oh, I’m so glad you mentioned that. You’ll need trousers for your next challenge. But I’ll say no more in fear of ruining it,” Abby teased. “Grace, when can we reveal the next test?”

  Emma looked over to Grace. Her sister had evidently made it as high as she could go. Her arm was wrapped around the sturdy trunk shooting up through the center, and her legs hung over the branch she sat upon, swinging back and forth. Quite scandalous, if Emma did say so. They were all quite wicked, and it felt great to not have a care in the world.

  “Maybe tomorrow. And I must say,” Grace said, “this is the most fun I’ve had in far too long. I didn’t think it would be this easy to climb a tree.”

  Emma looked up into the blooming branches of her apple tree. She’d only made it to the first branch. The wind moved the higher branches in its gentle hold. Varying shades of green leaves danced in place, small apples held fast to where they’d budded from flowers.

  “Tell me I’ve passed the undertaking of tree climbing. I fear I will grow dizzy should I climb any higher.” She stared down to the neatly cropped grass lining the orchard. It looked a great deal farther away than she remembered on first spying the ground from atop this perch. “I’m quite content to sit right on this branch and never move again.”

  “Aren’t you even going to try, Em? Look how high I’ve made it, and my branches are thinner and scarcer than yours,” Abby gloated at her accomplishment.

  Emma picked an undergrown apple from the branch above her head and tossed it in her sister’s direction. She had terrible aim. It veered off to the far left and didn’t even hit Abby’s tree.

  Both her sisters laughed in tandem.

  “Don’t make me laugh when I’m so high off the ground,” Abby said.

  Rolling her eyes, Emma finally gave in to the need to laugh along with them. “Fine. I cede the competition of best tree climber to you, Abby. And let it be said, neither of you told me I had to climb all the way to the top. You just said I had to climb a tree. So I’ve passed the task you have set forth.”

  She looked over to Abby, who hadn’t had more than one glass of wine. Their youngest sister was probably the only one not feeling the effects of the alcohol.

  “A shame that you’ve made it this far and won’t attempt to go farther.” Abby climbed back down to a lower, sturdier branch. “I’ve climbed plenty of trees to know that there’s nothing as fun as looking down on the world from atop the highest perch.”

  Grace was already at the bottom of her tree wiping her hands on her skirts and untying the swath of material to settle it back over her legs. “You have passed one of the challenges. I’m happy to say, we’ve made the other two tasks quite a bit more difficult to accomplish. Come on down, unless you’ve changed your mind and do plan on soaring right to the top.”

  Emma looked down at her sisters. They both stood on the solid, unmoving green grass. Her vision was a bit blurry, an aftereffect from the wine. “The ground looks rather far away. I’m liable to turn my ankle should I jump.”

  “Emma,” Grace said in a stern voice, “if you don’t come down on your own, I’ll have to call your husband to come rescue you.”

  “Don’t do that.” Emma groaned her embarrassment. “I should die of shame for being perched in a tree half drunk and half naked.”

  “I think we should have put more wine in her,” Abby murmured.

  What were her sisters planning, aside from scaling trees in the apple orchard? Emma stared down at the exposed roots of the tree. It couldn’t be more than five or six feet from the ground; maybe she could wrap her legs around the trunk and slide down. Oh, she was definitely tipsy to think up something so imprudent as that. She wanted to lean forward and hug the branch she was on until the spinning behind her eyes subsided.

  “I might just stay up here for a bit longer.”

  Grace snickered as she looked off into the distance. “Why, I do believe I see your husband walking this way with Mr. Lioni.”

  Emma’s eyes snapped wide open. “Oh, no. Do hide, Grace. I don’t want him to see me up here.”

  Both sisters ignored her, waving to the two gentlemen walking between the rows of trees. Emma stared after them, and could make out her husband’s black hat bobbing closer as if it floated all on its own. A shame the branch in front of her covered everything else from view.

  “Asbury, you’ve impeccable timing.” Grace’s voice was teasing, the laughter evident. Emma watched her sisters curtsy to the approaching men. Hadn’t Grace promised to be furious at Richard on her behalf?

  “It seems that Em has gotten herself into a bit of a pickle.” Abby looked up at her, grinning nearly ear-to-ear. “She’s like the cat that can’t figure out how to get down from the tree
once it’s found a pretty place to watch the birds.”

  Her husband came into view then, removing his hat as he tipped his head back to look at her. A twinkle of amusement lit his eyes.

  “Good day, husband.” She tried pulling her legs up higher so her bare shins and ankles couldn’t be seen from below. She didn’t want to know what else he could see beneath her skirts. The movement unsettled her balance. She slapped her hands out and held tightly to the branch between her thighs.

  “What a sight you make, wife. I do believe the whole county will see what pretty calves you have.”

  She gasped and, on instinct and in a fit of temper, grabbed another tiny malformed apple and chucked it at her husband. He ducked away just before it could hit its mark. There was satisfaction in knowing it hit him squarely on the shoulder. Not bad considering she’d been aiming for his head. His hand came up to cover his smile too late.

  “It would do you good to recall we are in mixed company,” she hissed. Were the words slightly slurred? She hiccupped. Oh, dear, now he’d know she wasn’t her normal self.

  Richard looked to the makeshift picnic they’d set up earlier, then back to her with one eyebrow raised. “You are a little more cheeky than usual. Do I have the empty bottles of wine to thank?”

  “You odious, impossible man.” Her sisters were bent at the waist. They laughed so hard tears streaked their faces. “I’m glad you are all laughing at my expense,” she shouted loud enough they could hear over their own tittering.

  “Oh, Em, don’t be such a spoilsport.” Abby wheezed for breath before she continued, “It’s all in good fun.”

  “It was fun until this one”—she pointed at her husband, who still expressed great amusement at her predicament—“came along. Mr. Lioni, if you could please show my husband how a true gentleman acts and turn about.”

  She waved her finger in example. Fortunately, Mr. Lioni complied, but not before she saw the grin stretched across his face. And he couldn’t hide the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he laughed silently along with her sisters.

  Later on she might find this funny. Right now, she was straddled over a tree branch with her husband looking up her skirts, and he didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was doing just that. She looked down at him, her lips pinched and eyes narrowed. Didn’t matter, since he was staring at her dangling foot.