A Marriage 0f Convenience_Historical Regency Romance

by Janet Woods

  Grace shivered at the thought. Although she had seen a cadaver on occasion, never one in the process of decomposition. Her father had drawn the line at that.

  Her nearest experience had been a dead cat in the laneway that she’d poked with a stick. Its appearance was quite gruesome and its smell so offensive that she’d been sick in the hedge. ‘Perhaps Lady Florence just wants to know the outcome of her mischief.’

  ‘I could inform her of that now.’

  That sounds definite. He’s made his plans and he’s not going to tell you what they are.

  She could but ask … and perhaps flatter him a little. Lady Florence had told her that men enjoyed compliments, and they didn’t like women who were shrill. She could compliment him on his ruby waistcoat. He always looked so clean and elegant, in a subtle kind of way, with only a dash of the dandy in him displayed in his choice of waistcoat. His clothes were expertly tailored.

  Perhaps commenting on his toilette was being a bit too personal, though she could always polish his buttons and make them shine. But he would have a servant to do that, she supposed.

  Or his wife.

  Softly, she cajoled, ‘Dominic …?’

  ‘No … certainly not!’

  ‘But I haven’t said anything yet.’

  ‘Say it then.’

  ‘Much as I like you hugging me, my rear end is so cold it’s almost frozen to the stone.’

  The chuckle he gave curled softly into his ear and he closed his arms around her and slid his hands down over her waist and under the rise of her seat before lifting her down. ‘You have such a pretty little rump. Let’s get on our way, else I’ll leave you behind with Lady Florence for company.’

  ‘Hah! There’s nothing subtle about you, is there?’ she said.

  ‘No, I don’t suppose there is. I seem to have run out of subtle.’

  She leaned in to kiss his cheek, found his mouth instead. She kissed him anyway.

  ‘My thanks for the rescue, Dominic.’

  ‘My pleasure entirely, since I enjoyed it too; you were worth returning for.’

  He kissed her again, and she hugged the warm glow she felt inside her.

  Seventeen

  Dominic seemed to have been awake forever.

  They’d spent what was left of the night together in the only bedchamber habitable, and with a fire burning in the grate. They had remained fully dressed except for their footwear. A feather bolster had created a barrier between them and he’d left two candles burning on the chest of drawers.

  He’d woken from sleep when her stockinged foot, such a sweet little creature, had crept under the bolster and curled comfortably around his ankle, as if looking for its mate.

  The bolster had been Dominic’s idea, and was better than the original arrangement of him being ensconced in a chair that had seen better days. There he tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable, his grunts and sighs growing louder and louder until Grace took the hint and called out with some exasperation, ‘For goodness’ sake, Dominic, you haven’t got to be such a martyr. There’s plenty of room for the two of us to sleep on this bed.’

  And there had been, for Gracie with her angel breaths was oblivious to his manly discomfort. He gazed down at her feet, the soles exposed when she’d drawn up her knees, and then turned over and taken the bedcover with her.

  She was as innocent now as she had been when he’d tucked the cover over her, despite the enticement of just being near her. How easy it would have been to throw the bolster aside and then slide in beside her and love her just a little.

  It still would be.

  His body stirred and he gently kissed the arch of her foot. Her toes curled. She sighed, and then turned over. The foot escaped along with the rest of her into the protective mound of bedding.

  He could love her now, snuggle into her warmth and bring her softly from sleep into a live and vibrant existence. He doubted if she would object if her air of disappointment to the presence of the bolster had been any indication.

  Another sigh and she turned again, exposing a bruised cheek, which he gently kissed. He wasn’t a violent man but Dominic would like to kill the nasty little swine who’d inflicted this injury on his love.

  ‘Mmmmmm …’ she murmured and stretched. Her hands raked the air like a cat sharpening its claws while her body slowly moved in a sinuous stretch.

  Oh, God … there was no resistance in him now. Beyond the candles the shadows danced. Reflecting on the window glass the panes flared like a woman dancing in a rainbow-coloured skirt.

  Her eyelids fluttered, and then opened, the lovely golden orbs were warm, still somnolent with sleep and shining like those of a doe. They gazed at each other in the flickering light, their mouths saying nothing, their eyes exposing everything. She was irresistible and he had no resistance.

  She blinked and her eyes widened as they absorbed the light from the guttering candle. Love had changed her, yet there was no outward sign until she reached out to touch his face.

  The cover slipped, exposing shapely breasts thrusting against the fabric of her bodice. Dark eyelashes quivered and she whispered his name – the sleepy mispronunciation of which tickled him. ‘Demonic, did you sleep well?’

  ‘I didn’t sleep at all,’ he grumbled.

  When she giggled it was clear she’d realized her mistake in pronunciation.

  ‘How demonic are you?’

  Surrounded by her laughter he dragged the bolster from the middle of the bed and threw it aside. ‘That you have yet to find out.’

  ‘When will that be?’

  There could never be an invitation quite as blatant. ‘My sweet angel, what are you suggesting?’ he whispered, and then he grinned. An angel? Not his Gracie, and Dominic was in the mood to prove it.

  He crossed to the door, turned the key in the lock and then returned to her and held out his hands. He’d half expected that she’d protest and push him away. Instead she whispered, ‘I need you to kiss me.’

  ‘You know how it will end up? But you don’t, my love.’ He doubted he would get another opportunity as easy as this one.

  ‘Then show me.’ She pulled him down into the space the bolster had occupied and he slid under the bedcover with her. He inclined his head and tasted her mouth, sipping it like wine warmed by the sun. It was poetry.

  A lover’s kiss into musk, he thought.

  His palms brushed across the nubs of her breasts as they nestled in his palm. His fingers stroked with the opening of each tie of her bodice. ‘I’ll help you to remove your gown,’ he said, his voice husky with the need growing in him, and he stopped thinking.

  When his mouth joined with hers again Grace knew she was about to cross the line. She didn’t have the will to stop herself – she didn’t want to.

  The expressing of love was quite exquisite, Grace thought. The skin covering his shaft was silky and alive, responsive to her touch. He guided her hands on his body and while doing so, brought her to a peak in an unimaginable frenzy of shared and mindless lust.

  Aroused, he had been bigger than she’d been led to believe men were, but she was accepting of him, her body eager to accept each thrust and kiss. They melded together perfectly, as though they’d been designed that way, and indeed, nature seemed to have designed them too with every twist of her body accommodating of him easily.

  His mouth explored her body gently, mindful of her bruises, no doubt. His fingers skimmed lightly across her breasts, his tongue circled the rosy nubs and explored the secrets of her body. Grace welcomed every touch with a gasp of delight.

  She wasn’t ashamed by her behaviour, but she felt like a wanton, desirable creature lying naked beneath the bedcover, which was embroidered all over with flowers. It seemed as if she was lying in a spring flowering meadow, the air alive with the hum of bees and kisses that became jewelled butterflies flavoured with delicate spring fragrances.

  Hugged into his body she smoothed the hair back from his forehead and kissed his eyelids. She sighed, for a
lready her naked flesh was telling her she wanted more of him. If they were going to have a permanent relationship, and she admitted to herself that she didn’t have the willpower to resist him, it would be best to sort out the terms now.

  A trifle tentatively, she said, ‘Dominic, there’s something I need talk to you about.’

  ‘Must it be now?’ he murmured, his fingers sliding over the curve of her behind in a most distracting manner.

  ‘Especially now,’ and she dragged in a ragged breath. ‘It’s about time we discussed … well, your wife, I suppose.’

  Dominic sat up in such a hurry he nearly fell off the bed. ‘My what?’

  ‘Your wife.’

  A bucket of icy water couldn’t have been more effective as a passion killer. Propping himself on one elbow he gazed at her. Did she really think he was a married man? Her expression was questioning rather than condemning yet even while she was thinking him wed, she’d also been willing to participate in some loving exercise.

  He found his voice. ‘You think I’m a married man? Yes, you must do else you wouldn’t have raised the subject.’

  ‘I don’t mind … well, I do a little bit … more than a little bit really. I just wished you’d told me.’

  All this time she’d thought him to be married. Amusement cut in. ‘Who told you I was married?’

  ‘The servants at Oakford saw you kissing a woman and she had an infant in her arms. And every time I asked questions about your family … well, you didn’t seem surprised, and you diverted me and I never really got a straight answer.’

  ‘Perhaps you never really asked a direct question on the matter before.’

  ‘As well, I was looking in the church register not long ago. There is a record of a marriage in the church. Dominic LéSayres and Charlotte Carter. I just had time to read it before …’

  He placed a finger over her lips. ‘That would be Dominic Christopher LéSayres. He was my great-grandfather’s brother. While you were researching me in the parish records didn’t you check the date?’

  ‘Oh … I never thought … I wasn’t prying, honestly. I was helping to clean the pew Lady Florence used in the church. It was one of my tasks every week.’ She shrugged. ‘I wasn’t looking for you in there … I sometimes did some clerical work for Reverend Hallam, and I remembered the name and I was just curious. Then when Jessie told me she saw you kissing a woman and you had a child in your arms …’ She shrugged. ‘I put two and two together and came up with five.’

  He couldn’t help but murmur, ‘But the plot thickens. Now it seems I have a child, as well, and no doubt will find a record of his christening in the local church register. You might just remember I have a young nephew and I’m named as his godfather.’ He paused before saying, ‘One thing we should discuss. You thought I was a married man with a child yet you decided to overlook that small legality and offer me the ease of your body. Personally, I don’t feel the slightest remorse at what took place between us.’

  She turned away from his condemnation. ‘Neither do I because, although I tried hard not to, I fell in love with you, I couldn’t stop myself. And if you think I’m going to apologize for that, well, I’m not. Not for anything, and that includes my bad behaviour. Oh yes … and perhaps we should mention your bad behaviour, as well, Dominic LéSayres. You took advantage of both me and the situation.’

  ‘That’s what men do.’ Softness crept into his voice. ‘And I fell in love with you the moment I saw you.’

  Her heart gave a giant leap when he turned her towards him and drew her into his arms. Inclining his head he placed his forehead against hers and fisting one of his hands under her chin brought her mouth level with his. His eyes were as fierce as those of an eagle but his mouth was like a touch of fire. ‘Do you believe me when I say I have neither wife nor child?’

  After a slight pause, she said, ‘I think so.’

  ‘Don’t you trust me, my Gracie?’

  ‘I want to … yes … I think so.’

  He chuckled. ‘That will suffice for now. Now we must rise and get dressed.’ He slid out of bed and strode naked to pick up his clothes. She closed her eyes, and then opened them again, just as his trousers slid up over his buttocks. His body was lithe, the muscles of his back lean and taut.

  Dominic was aware of Grace’s glance on him, sizing him up. He wasn’t vain about his looks or his body. Everything was in proportion and worked as it should, when it should.

  ‘Must we?’ she said.

  He stopped in his stride and turned. Her bare foot emerged from under the cover and her big toe wriggled, beckoning to him like a lure at the end of a fishing line.

  The trousers took a downward dive and he stepped out of them. Three strides took him back to her and he leaned over the bed and planted a kiss on her mouth.

  That wicked little foot of hers tickled his dangling appendage. Immediately, it sprang to attention.

  ‘I guess it can wait a little longer,’ he said.

  Eighteen

  Downstairs, Dominic discovered that Sam had stoked up the kitchen stove and the kettle had begun to sing.

  He investigated the larder and found some cheese and bread. As well, there was a thin slice of smoked ham, not really enough for three. Two jars of preserved apples and some oats looked edible, and emerging from the depths a glass jar contained festering pickled pilchards. When he removed the lid the stink nearly choked him.

  He hadn’t bothered getting provisions in since he hadn’t thought to cater for visitors, especially the unwanted kind. Hopefully, this should be his last day in Oakford House. He hadn’t expected to have guests. There were many things he hadn’t expected, and he smiled, grateful that his life had taken a step in the right direction.

  His liaison with the ever-delightful Gracie Ellis had started the day off well with some unexpected physical exertion. Afterwards, Grace had fallen asleep her head snuggled against his chest, the exposed skin between the bruises as softly glowing as the skin. A glance at her back had revealed the extent of her injuries, and although the bruises were beginning to fade he could only imagine what she’d been through, and marvelled that her small body had supported his without complaint.

  He closed his mind on the vision and centred on the oats. ‘I could cook some oats and we can finish off the fruit.’

  Sam gazed with hungry eyes at their meagre supply.

  ‘You may share the ham with Miss Ellis,’ Dominic said.

  ‘Then there won’t be any for you, sir.’

  ‘It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve gone hungry, but I’ve finished growing, so it doesn’t matter. You still have a way to go, Sam Rider.’

  ‘One of the hens is still running loose and I might be able to find us an egg or two.’

  Sam went outside and after a while came back with three eggs, and a beaming smile on his face. ‘Edith laid some eggs.’

  ‘Good for Edith, and well done to you for finding them, Sam.’

  ‘Hens be creatures of habit and use the same nesting place if they can.’

  ‘All the same, you have sharp eyes. I think what we have will stretch to three now. Drop the eggs in a pan of boiling water and cook them for eight minutes … and make the tea if you would.’

  ‘Tea is for posh folks and Lady Florence wouldn’t let me have any, not even the leftovers. She said one drop would give me a taste for it and I’d get ideas above my station.’

  ‘Lady Florence won’t know. Do you think nurturing ideas above your position in life is wrong, when you’ve hardly lived?’

  Sam scratched his head. ‘Reckon I haven’t thought about it much, though be blowed if I know what nurturing means.’

  ‘It means you care for someone and you do your best to look after them. It’s like a duck with her ducklings. Or perhaps it’s a baby, who cannot fend for itself. His parents love and teach him until he grows into a man and can then look after himself. That’s what nurturing means, especially when applied to those we love.’

  ‘Nobody wa
nted to nurture me. I was left on Lady Florence’s doorstep like a bag of old rubbish. They said I was a gypsy.’

  Dominic didn’t know quite what to say. ‘That was unfortunate. I expect your parents were poor and tried to give you a better life. You have made some good friends, have you not? And you have received an education of sorts, I believe.’

  ‘From Miss Ellis?’

  Yes … just like his Gracie to do that, Dominic thought. ‘It was good of her to spare the time, and you can improve if you work at it.’

  ‘That’s what Miss Ellis said when she was learning me to read. When I said it was too hard, she took me by the ear and said, “Do you want your head to stay empty, so questions rattle around inside it without you being able to provide answers? If you do then I’ll not waste any more of my time on you. Never ever tell me you can’t do anything again.” Fierce, she was, and as hissy as a polecat with its tail caught in a trap.’

  Dominic told himself he needed to discourage Sam from discussing Gracie in such a casual manner. He understood that Sam was accustomed to addressing her thus when she’d been Lady Florence’s companion, but he needed to learn not to be so familiar. Dominic was formulating a reply when Sam blurted out, ‘Miss Ellis is a good girl, and she needs to be wed.’

  Tempted to tell the lad to mind his own business, it occurred to Dominic that Sam might be in the throes of first love.

  Dominic’s first love had been a rather thin woman with pale blue eyes who sang louder than any other female in church. When she sang a high note her voice warbled. She usually wore a cream coloured gown with little blue birds embroidered on the bodice and every time she hit that warbling high note the birds seemed to come alive and quiver on the swell of her bosom. Dominic had thought her to be a bird angel.

  He dragged his thoughts away. ‘Are you suggesting I should propose to Miss Ellis?’ He wondered if Sam had overheard something he shouldn’t have. Marriage wasn’t a bad idea though, one he’d been toying with ever since he’d first met Grace. It had been wrong of him to take advantage of her, but the opportunity had been there and he was just a man. It occurred to him he was using the excuse to justify the action, as many man did.