by Jenna Jaxon
Stripping off her dripping pelisse was easy, although she shook harder and inched closer to the fire. Proceeding to remove her gown, however, he hesitated. He was about to cross a Rubicon from which he’d not return. If discovered, they risked censure and their marriage became a certainty, no possibility of appeal if his circumstances changed for the worse. But if she died, none of that would matter in the least.
With unsteady fingers, he unbuttoned the little silver buttons, each carved into a rose, that ran down the bodice of her riding habit. The material, a fine wool, was damp and cold to the touch. It came away, revealing a very pretty pair of embroidered stays over a sleeveless linen chemise. He swallowed hard and his nether regions stirred despite the cold.
“You c . . . can gawk later, Hugh.” Maria rubbed her arms where the gooseflesh had the hairs standing at attention. “Help me with the skirt fastening in b . . . back.” She turned around and he untied the skirt and underpetticoat, which fell sopping to the floor. Kicking them away, she wobbled on unsteady legs, then inched closer to the fireplace and held her hands out. “You need to stoke the fire while I unfasten my stays. Thank goodness these close in the front.”
Glad of something to do other than stare at her luscious body, Hugh grabbed more wood and poked up the fire before dumping the logs in. Sparks flew upward and heat poured out into the room.
A glance over his shoulder showed Maria standing only in her chemise now, the thin material clinging to her, showing every delicious curve or shape. Perhaps that thin material would dry while on her. And she could have his shirt as well, to help hide her many temptations. Pulling his shirt out of his breeches, Hugh let the folds fall around his hips, then unwound his cravat, which he draped over the tub rim. He grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled it over his head.
“Ooh, Mr. Granger. What a nice, strong back you have.” The teasing sound of Maria’s voice raised his spirits. If they could get her warmed up, with a little luck, she would not take cold from this incident.
“Why, Lady Kersey. You say the nicest things.” Smiling, he waved the shirt in front of the flames to dry it even more. “I hope you mean—”
He turned to hand her the shirt and stopped, his heart hammering in his chest.
Not only had she removed her stays, but her chemise as well, standing before him naked save for her stockings and garters. His mouth dried and his cock surged against his breeches.
More lovely than he had ever imagined—and he had imagined her naked before him many times in the past weeks—she reminded him of Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus. Her smooth skin, pale in contrast to her dark, rosy nipples, made him long to run his hands all over her. Breasts that would fill his hands and stiffen his member gave her a rounded form above, while her generous hips provided like curves below. While the dark, thick triangle at the apex of her thighs beckoned him to explore its secrets. Hugh drew in a ragged breath. “Dear God.”
She rubbed her arms, making her breasts bob up and down. “I’ve thought of another way you can help me get warm.”
“Maria.” He couldn’t allow this to happen. “We cannot do any such thing. You know we cannot.”
Grabbing the shirt he still held out to her, she reached up and removed two pins from her hair. It cascaded down over her shoulders in snaky, wet strands. She shook out his shirt, then wrapped it around her hair, squeezing the water from it, then rubbing it vigorously, seemingly unaware of the way her breasts jiggled and bounced with every movement.
His cock kept track of every motion, it seemed, bumping against his breeches insistently until it lay hard and ready, seeking a way out.
Letting the shirt drop to the floor, Maria left the warmth of the fire and walked toward him.
He backed up as far as he could, until his bare back hit the cold tile wall.
“Maria, please. We promised.”
“More fool us then.” She draped herself against him, sliding her arms around his neck, her breasts pressed skin to skin against his. “Love me, Hugh. Please love me.”
He groaned, but didn’t try to push her away. How could he? He’d almost lost her forever. Her body still shook with cold. He should be willing to do anything to keep her safe and warm, no matter if the task was odious or pleasurable. That this task would be immanently pleasurable shouldn’t matter, shouldn’t make him feel guilty.
She burrowed against his chest and he slipped his arms around her. “You are a very stubborn lady.”
“And you are a stubborn man.” She smiled against his chest. “I imagine we will have more battles than this one because of it.” A chill shook her. “I’m just glad I won this one. I really am terribly cold, Hugh.”
“Sweetheart.” He lifted her into his arms, and grabbed the material out of the tub. “I hate to take you from the warmth of this room.”
“Transfer the fire to the bedchamber fireplace. It won’t be as warm as this room, but it will take the chill off it.” She grinned up at him. “We can produce the rest of the heat ourselves.”
With a sigh, Hugh stalked into the bedroom and threw the ripped bedcurtains onto the feather mattress. He laid Maria on the material, then ripped the other curtain off the rails and draped it over her.
She drew the soft fabric around her and snuggled into it.
It then took only moments to scoop the fire into the bucket for ashes and transfer it and the remaining logs to the main fireplace. Soon it was roaring, and the cold of the room retreated. Hugh turned back to the bed where Maria lay, following his every movement.
“Come to bed, my love.” She raised the makeshift blanket, invitingly.
* * *
She’d still not stopped shivering, even though the fire and cover had helped. What she needed, wanted, was Hugh’s big, hot body pressed against her again. The body he was revealing this very moment before her. Hungrily, she waited to see all of him.
His strong chest and shoulders were a delight to the touch, smooth and warm when she’d draped herself against him in the bath chamber. Now she wanted more.
He sat on the edge of the bed, taking off his boots, building her anticipation until she squirmed beneath the cover. Didn’t he know how much she wanted him right now? From his reaction to seeing her au naturel—she’d felt that hardness press against her earlier—she assumed he wanted her too. So why was he taking so abysmally long?
At last he turned around and oh, yes, without a doubt he wanted her. His shaft jutted straight out, full and hard and magnificent. She raised the covers again and he dove between them.
He pulled her to him, wrapping her in his arms as if he would engulf her entirely, pressing all of him against her. As she’d suspected, his body was hot, heat pouring off him in waves, like a blazing bonfire. For a moment she simply reveled in the warmth, her body relaxing at last into the safe haven. He did not shrink from her cold limbs at all, but tried to rub every part of her that needed his warmth.
Her shivering finally stopped, though her stomach trembled for a completely different reason. Staring deeply into his blue eyes, now darker than she’d ever seen them, she wanted to stay like this always, warm and intimate with this man. She lowered her mouth to his, touched his lips briefly, then sucked his bottom lip between her teeth to nibble on it.
He moaned deep and long before pulling free and rolling her onto her back, bringing him on top of her, his weight pressing her deep into the mattress. Dropping kisses on her lips, her chin, her jaw, her neck, he wound his way down her body, her temperature rising at every touch of his mouth. Disappearing beneath the covers, he continued his caresses, where she could not see. Suddenly, he sucked her nipple into his mouth. Half gasp, half moan escaped her, bringing her head up off the mattress. While his mouth played with one breast, his fingers stroked and tweaked the other one, hardening the tip until she thought she might explode with the pleasure of it.
His head emerged from the covers, his dark curly hair charmingly disheveled. “You do not get off so easily, my lady. Will you guide me in, if you
please?”
“I am more than happy to help, sir.” She slid her fingers along the hard muscles of his abdomen, over his slim hip, and down to where his member stood ready. Slowly she stroked it, up and down, wanting its raging heat inside her now.
He raised up and she positioned him right at her opening, then shifted her hands to his buttocks and pulled him toward her. Like the finest silk, he slid smoothly in, filling her completely.
Happy beyond belief, Maria moaned as he began to thrust inside her, long slow glides that reached all the way to her core. A tension began to spiral deep within her, a pressure she’d only experienced a few times before during her brief marriage to Alan. The faster Hugh stroked, the tighter wound she became until the tension reached a critical tipping point. This was how she was supposed to feel when she was with a man, but so seldom had.
“Hugh, Hugh!” she cried as she shattered around him, pulsing deep within.
He continued to thrust, faster and faster until, with a great cry of release, he shuddered inside her, filling her with his hot essence. After a moment he slumped on top of her, but immediately rolled over onto the bed, spent and panting.
Maria sagged into the mattress, totally spent, immeasurably happy, and finally, completely warm.
Chapter Twenty
Drowsing in Hugh’s arms, Maria could think of no place she would rather be. Certainly not in the Highlands of Scotland where, if she allowed Jane and Lord Kinellan to guide her, she would be for the better part of the winter with little or no contact with Hugh. She ran her hand over his forearm and was rewarded by the squeeze of his embrace. Undoubtedly, after this morning’s activities, the situation had changed once again, as she had known it would. Still, she wasn’t sorry. This is how their life should be, would be if his brother’s life did not have so much of their future hanging on it.
She turned to face Hugh, resolved not to think about the uncertainties of her life, only the things she knew to be true. That Hugh loved her, and she loved him. That despite anything that happened with his brother, she and Hugh would be together. And therefore, she would not be leaving for Scotland in the morning.
Hugh’s eyes opened, only halfway at first, then a frown touched his brow. “What are you thinking, my love? You’re frowning.” He kissed her forehead right where it joined her nose. “I hope it does not mean you are having second thoughts?”
“Absolutely not.” She slid her arms around his neck and snuggled down beside him. No one had ever made her feel so warm and safe. “Although I was thinking that things have now changed.”
“Indeed they have.” Raising up, he kissed the tip of her nose. “I hope that is not a surprise to you.”
She smiled into his neck. “No, it is not. I’m actually quite glad that things have changed between us. And because they have, I do not see any reason for me to go to Scotland.”
“Why did I think that would be your first thought after we shared intimacies?” He continued a trail of kisses down her neck.
“Because it is true. The major reason I was going with Jane and Lord Kinellan was to keep this from happening.” Peeping underneath the cover, she clucked her tongue and shook her head. “Tsk, tsk. Now it would be like shutting the stable door after the steed is stolen.”
“It may have been one reason, but not the only one, if you remember. There is also the notion that we should keep you away from Lord Wetherby. That has not disappeared.” With a sigh, Hugh lay back on the mattress, staring at the canopy overhead. “If we could marry now, then our problems might be solved. But like it or not, the matter of money must be taken into account.”
“It is my own fault, I suppose.” Maria ran her hand over Hugh’s bare chest. “If I had only waited and let my father make settlement arrangements before my marriage to Alan, I would at least have something we could perhaps have lived on. But I was afraid he would not marry me if we waited, and the result of that folly is that I have nothing. Alan didn’t even have the decency to provide for me and his child in a will. Jane said he could have made a bequest if he’d wanted to. He was so sure the child would be a boy, I suppose, that he didn’t think he needed to make a will.”
“He did make a will, Maria.”
“What?” She raised up in the bed to stare at Hugh. “Why would you say that?”
“Because I witnessed it.” Hugh sat up as well, his head cocked, a frown furrowing his brow.
“That’s impossible. Mr. Clarke, the solicitor, would have told me.” Hugh’s words made no sense whatsoever. If Alan had made a will . . . “When did you sign the document? Soon after he inherited the title?” That was the most likely time a will would have been made.
Hugh shook his head. “He asked me and Mr. Chambers to sign a paper on the morning of the duel.” He swallowed and looked away. “About an hour before he died.”
“But why was I not told this?” Why had the solicitor lied to her? “Mr. Clarke assured me that there was no will that benefitted me or little Jane. It was one of the first things we asked once we understood there was no male heir.”
Flopping back onto the bed, Hugh punched the mattress. “Blast it to hell. I beg your pardon, my love. It was the junior clerk.”
“What are you talking about?”
“That morning in April, Lord Kersey had us sign the paper, then gave it to me. I was leaving that morning for London on business and he asked me to take it to the solicitor’s office.” He flung his hand over his head. “The foolish clerk mislaid the will. It did not come to Mr. Clarke’s attention until the current Lord Kersey had been found. He asked me about it when he came to Kersey Hall two weeks ago.”
“April?” Astonishment gave way to incredulity. And anger. “You have known about this will since April and did not think to tell me about it?”
“Maria, please.” Hugh shook his head and tried to take her hand, but she crossed her arms across her chest. “I did not know for certain it was a will until two weeks ago. That morning I signed it I hoped it was something to benefit you and your child. But the late Lord Kersey did not take me into his confidence about it. It was not until Mr. Clarke told me it was a will that I knew for certain.”
“And you could have told me about it two weeks ago. Why would you wish to keep something like that from me?” Fighting to hold back tears, Maria sniffed and wiped her eyes with the tail end of their covering.
“I swear to you I did not. Here, get back underneath the cover. You’ll freeze again.” Pulling the curtain around her shoulders, Hugh scrambled from the bed and stoked the fire. “This is the last of the wood. We shall have to leave shortly.” He disappeared into the bathing chamber. When he returned he had his shirt on and her still wet clothing in his hands. “We should have hung these up to dry at least a little.”
“Why did you not tell me, Hugh?” An outlandish fear gripped her that Hugh hadn’t wanted her to have an inheritance. That way he could plead financial difficulties as a way to keep from marrying her.
“My love, I didn’t know that Mr. Clarke hadn’t told you.” He dropped the clothes to the floor and took her into his arms. “In fact, I assumed he had, especially when immediately afterwards you moved from this house back to Kersey Hall. I thought the will had contained some kind of stipulation that would allow you and Jane to always live on the estate.”
“So you don’t know what is in the will?”
Hugh shook his head. “Mr. Clarke showed me the page with the signatures on it, nothing more. Nor did he divulge its contents to me.” He kissed her and held her tight, soothing her fears. “But I think that if he did not tell you, you need to go to London and find out.”
“Absolutely. Just think, if I have even a small inheritance, we may be able to marry regardless of your brother’s circumstances. Will you take me?” The prospect of spending the several days’ journey to and from London with Hugh made her take heart afresh.
“I do not think that would be wise, my love. First, I am still employed by Lord Kersey. My duty to him will keep me he
re. Second, we do not need him to know about this business, as any will favoring you would consequently not favor him.”
“True.” She burrowed closer to him. “I will tell this all to Jane. She will devise a plan, I’m sure.”
“Now come.” He kissed her and drew her to the edge of the bed. “We must make you look as disheveled as possible, without making you so uncomfortable that you freeze. Take the top curtain and wrap it around you.” Picking up her sodden riding habit, he tossed it onto the remaining curtain and proceeded to roll it up in the material. “This will wring some of the water out of your clothing, but it must be damp enough that people at the Hall will believe you fell through the ice.” He looked at her apologetically. “It’s going to be a rather cold ride back to the Hall.”
“I will be fine. And all we need tell them is the truth—with one short interlude left out.” Her cousin’s rule always held true. “Let’s see if we can get my chemise a little drier. No one will see that save my maid, and she is very loyal.”
The afternoon shadows had begun to lengthen across the lawn by the time Hugh tossed Maria, shivering in the cold wet clothing once more, up onto Lily and they set out for Kersey Hall by the shortest route possible.
As they drew up in front of the house, grooms appeared to take the horses.
“Call Lord Kersey and Lady John Tarkington this instant,” Hugh called to a footman on duty at the front door. He then helped Maria crawl down off Lily, almost as frozen as she had been earlier. The ride had been an agony of icy wind on the wet clothing. Shivering, she let Hugh help her up the front steps. As they approached, the door opened and a bevy of people spilled out onto the portico.
“What has happened?”
“Maria? Maria, are you all right?”
“Granger, what the devil is going on?”
Everyone spoke at once, so Maria answered none of them. She gazed about until she located Jane and steered herself through the throng and into her cousin’s arms.
