Only Seduction Will Do

by Jenna Jaxon

  God, could he not have explained that to her before demanding she tell him the circumstances of her ruin? Yet he’d wanted to be sure of any feelings she might have for the cad who’d seduced her. That she still shielded his identity spoke of some attachment to him. Women often developed an attachment to the first man they shared themselves with. As she pointed out, he didn’t force or coerce her into yielding to him. There might be something more than she divulged.

  With a groan, Jack sat up, downed the rest of his drink in one gulp and set the glass on a table. Determination stole through him as he gazed into the fire. He was responsible for Alethea. For her ruin, for her current unhappy state, for her future. As he had taken her to wife, so had he also assumed the task of making her happy and heart-whole.

  Therefore, his own feelings on the matter were insignificant. Starting tomorrow he would try very hard to create a life she could live without shame and with some degree of affection. His sister had grown to love the man she married, even though she had loathed him as she spoke her wedding vows.

  At least he liked Alethea. He thought her a beautiful woman with many accomplishments, including an interest in horses they could share. Once he came to know her better, he would regard her with some degree of affection. She had much to recommend her—beauty, intelligence, courage. These qualities he admired in her. Pray God they could strike a spark of passion within him.

  Otherwise, God give him strength to keep her forever from knowing the truth.

  Chapter 11

  Next morning, Alethea stood by the front door pulling on her York tan gloves, pushing each finger into the leather with a violence that threatened to tear them. Teeth clenched, she stared at the front door, impatient to be off on this godforsaken trip. If her so-called husband didn’t hurry up, she’d go back upstairs and refuse to accompany him. Serve him right to go alone. A wedding trip for one.

  Having passed a wretched night crying herself to sleep, Alethea had woken this morning to hideously swollen red eyes. Clemons had assisted her by dabbing the coldest possible water on her aching eyes while Alethea had cursed under her breath and wished herself back at her cousin’s house. Something else could have been arranged about the child had she been given time to think of it. Anything would be better than marriage to a man who didn’t want her. How had she not realized that before mentioning his name to Braeton?

  Easy enough to see that in the light of the morning after. Before she’d believed all it would take would be to become the man’s wife and then all the rest—the love and affection—would magically appear. As though wedding vows alone could conjure passion.

  Obviously not. Last night’s debacle had opened her eyes at last to the reality of her life as the Earl of Manning’s wife. A marriage of convenience, nothing more. No happy life, no family to look forward to save for the child her husband must legally claim as his. Most likely he’d never set eyes on it.

  Alethea shook herself, attempting to brush away her gloomy thoughts. The long ride to come, alone with Jack, would likely try her soul. Best try to start out on a civil if not cordial note. If he would deign to put in an appearance.

  “There you are, my dear.”

  She jumped and whirled toward the sound of Jack’s voice. To look at the man, no one would believe for a moment he’d been upset in the least by last night’s revelations. An excellently cut deep blue jacket accentuated his broad shoulders and brought out the brilliant blue of his eyes. Fawn-colored breeches hugged his hips just enough to entice anyone who enjoyed a fine figure of a man. Black Hessians and a tricorn hat completed his dashing ensemble, leaving her torn between wanting to admire his manly form and remaining aloof, impervious to his charm.

  “I have been looking all over for you, Alethea.” He smiled warmly, with almost genuine concern.

  “I’ve been right here, my lord, waiting for at least ten minutes by the clock.” She motioned to the tall long-case clock in the entrance hall, ticking serenely on.

  “I thought you would be in the breakfast room.” A slight frown touched his brows. “You did eat this morning, didn’t you? I would not wish you to become faint or ill from lack of sustenance.”

  “I breakfasted in my chamber, early this morning. I assure you, Clemons would not allow me to stir a step without toast or chocolate passing my lips.” Squeezing her hands into fists helped her speak evenly, hopefully with a civil tone. This ride would be devilishly difficult when all the while she wanted to rail at him or at the Fates that had given her exactly what she wanted, then had taken all the joy from it.

  “Then come. We will away.” He offered his arm, which she grudgingly took.

  The warmth of him soaked into her hand immediately, as if to taunt her.

  With all decorum, he handed her into the luxuriously appointed carriage, settled her under a warm blue-plaid blanket that matched the interior trim, then sat beside her. Shutting the door with a loud boom, he called, “Forward, Forbes,” and the carriage lurched into motion.

  His solicitousness irked her to no end. He didn’t care for her. He’d made that abundantly clear last night. Why put on this charade of concern? The servants certainly wouldn’t care as long as their master and mistress were civil to one another. Alethea stared out the window, praying slumber would overtake her before he attempted conversation.

  “So you have journeyed to Knowlton’s Keep before, my dear?”

  So much for a quiet ride. She could ignore the question, but from what she’d gleaned about her husband, he wasn’t a man to be gainsaid. “Yes, this past summer. We went after the Season ended, after the house party in Kent.”

  “Ah, yes. That was the first time we were together in company, other than a dance or two at a ball.” He smiled and her stomach coiled. “We must talk more while we are at the Keep. I would like for us to become much better acquainted, at least as much as a proper courtship would have afforded us.”

  All she could do was stare in amazement, her heart thumping painfully in her chest. How could he say such a thing after the way they parted last night?

  Apparently her expression spoke her mind, for he sighed and shifted in his seat. “Please allow me to apologize for my boorish behavior last evening. I must confess to not having handled my inquiry as well as I should have.” Ceasing to stare at her, he shifted his attention to the empty seat opposite. “I should have begun by telling you my plan for us to know one another better before we became intimate at the time or shortly after you accepted my proposal. Don’t you think it prudent for us to talk, share some sense of who we are, become more than strangers? Then we will be ready to share…more.” He turned his piercing blue gaze on her. “Might we please agree to that?”

  The sincerity in his voice touched a chord deep inside her. Disbelief dried her mouth until her tongue stuck to the roof.

  “I know you wished for more last night, but Alethea”—he grasped her hand as it rested on her lap—“we have all the time in the world. We need not rush into this marriage, although we are married in sight of God and the law. I could press you for intimacies now, but it would be a hollow thing, a shadow of what it might be if we wait and work toward sharing a life before sharing ourselves.” He squeezed her hand and she flushed all over.

  All her iciness thawed in an instant. She wanted him so badly she ached from her leather-booted feet to the top of her hat-pinned head. He had stated caution as a reason last evening, though he’d also sounded as though he disliked her heartily for what she’d done. Had she taken his meaning wrong? Or had he changed his mind about her? She studied his face with a keen eye searching for clues to give her hope again.

  The handsome man beside her continued to smile, although worry still lurked behind the kind eyes.

  Heart in her throat, Alethea sent a prayer to the Almighty. “I believe I can concur with you, my dear.” Cautiously, she squeezed his hand in return and a grin split his face, filling her with w
armth as though the sun shone directly on her. “We will come to know one another very well, I believe, and then we can be more…” When had the blasted carriage become so hot? “We can be more familiar with one other.”

  “Just so, my dear.” The fine worry lines around Jack’s eyes relaxed. “Just so.”

  * * * *

  After their arrival at Knowlton’s Keep, the weather turned wet, keeping Alethea and Jack housebound in the tall gray stone castle. The castle dated back to the time of William the Conqueror and although amenities had been added over the years, the property could still be considered rustic by present London standards. The rooms were drafty and damp despite roaring fires. The windows were small, though set with thick panes of glass that let in the scant sunlight. Jack had insisted she take the master solar while he took the second largest room, a boon as far as space and light were concerned. Still, a rather gloomy beginning to the wedding trip that had promised so much more on the journey down.

  The bad weather did, however, give them the opportunity to make good on their bargain and they talked for long stretches during those first days. When conversation palled, more quickly some days than others, Jack unearthed a deck of cards in the library and taught her to play Noddy and Piquet—to his dismay when she managed to take him for all his counters. Then they discovered an ancient chess board and Alethea found herself seriously outmatched.

  In the evenings before dinner, however, Jack buried himself in a copy of Le Morte D’Arthur from the library and they realized a major difference between them. Alethea had never been one to enjoy reading. Outdoor or active pursuits, such as riding or visiting friends, held more pleasure for her. She argued with herself that no couple enjoyed everything together equally, and so the time her husband devoted to books, she spent devoting to herself.

  Clemons arranged hot baths, and afterwards Alethea spoiled herself with perfumed creams and powders. Together they primped and curled and fussed and preened until her entry into dinner felt more like that to a grand ball. Her husband seemed pleasantly surprised at her extended toilette, for he complimented her extravagantly on her appearance and declared her perfume rivaled the best gardens in France. Their charge to become better acquainted seemed to be working, albeit in fits and starts. They were rather different people in most ways. It might take some time before they were truly comfortable with one another.

  On her fourth morning at the Keep, Alethea awoke to Clemons drawing back the curtains on thin sunlight.

  “Thank the Lord.” She threw back the covers and stepped directly into her slippers. “My riding habit, Clemons. I will ride this morning if the sky falls.”

  “Yes, my lady. I have it to hand.” The maid produced the freshly pressed sky-blue habit. “I knew you’d want to ride as soon as I saw the rain had stopped.” She gave Alethea a sideways glance. “Will you ask his lordship to accompany you?”

  “Of course, I will.” Alethea frowned as Clemons pulled her petticoat up and tied the tapes. “Why would I not seek his company?”

  “No reason, my lady. But you were used to riding alone. I wondered if you would continue to do so.”

  Alethea stood still as the maid eased her arms into the tight-fitting jacket and began on the row of shiny brass buttons. She’d not thought about it until Clemons brought it up. She’d always ridden out alone, with a groom of course. Solitude while on horseback was exhilarating. And it was early. Jack might not even have arisen yet. They had been much together the past several days. Perhaps her absence would strike a chord of longing in her husband. “Actually, I believe I will ride by myself today, Clemons. Blow the cobwebs out of my head after three days of being cooped up here. Lord Manning and I will have plenty of time to ride together later.”

  Setting her black tricorn hat on her head and securing it with a jeweled pin, Alethea smiled at the image in her mirror. She arched her neck and forced a smile. Yes, riding might be the very thing to keep her spirits up.

  Treading lightly down the main staircase, she hurried out the door and around the side of the Keep, her steps echoing on the pavement and against the walls. To order her horse saddled was the work of a moment. The groom, John, tossed her up and she settled herself astride the bay. At last she could relax and enjoy the frozen countryside. Adventure in Sussex awaited.

  * * * *

  “Hargrove, send to my wife and ask if she will attend me here.” Jack glanced up from the breakfast table. He’d finished eating and was savoring a cup of excellent coffee while he turned the pages of the two-week-old newspaper from London.

  “I’m sorry my lord, but her ladyship has gone out.”

  Jack’s cup rattled back into its saucer. “She’s gone out? Where?” Had the woman bolted as soon as the weather cleared? After three days confined with her, never quite sure what to say, always on eggshells whenever he spoke to her lest she take it the wrong way, he wouldn’t put flight past her.

  “John, the head groom, sent word from the stable half an hour ago that her ladyship had requested her horse saddled and he would accompany her himself to make sure she came to no harm.” Hargrove shifted uneasily, but stared straight ahead.

  “Your head groom has done me a great service, Hargrove. I will not forget it when Lady Manning and I leave.” Jack tossed the newspaper onto the table. His napkin followed it. “Please send word to the stable to saddle my horse and ask the direction my lady and her groom were last seen heading.”

  “Very good, my lord.” The butler bowed and swiftly exited.

  Cursing under his breath, Jack strode out of the pleasant breakfast room. When he caught up to Alethea he had no idea whether he would join her on her ride or strangle her. The unfamiliar countryside could hide unknown dangers. If she should fall or be thrown, she could be killed or lose the child. How could she be so thoughtless? At least she could have asked him to ride with her. Unless she wished to avoid him. Well, they had lived in each other’s pocket for the past few days. If she wanted time to herself, so be it. But she must think of the child and her own wellbeing first.

  He crashed into his chamber, bringing his valet at a run. “Thompson, my boots, and hurry.” In less time than he imagined Jack found himself booted, bundled in an outer coat, atop his horse, and cantering down the driveway to find a path that branched off to the left at the main road.

  “It leads to a small rushing stream, my lord,” the stable lad had told him. “Last summer, Lady Manning, Miss Forsythe that was, had a fondness for that path. She might have wanted to visit it again.”

  Jack had shot away without a backward look. He pulled the horse down once they turned onto the path. The pine and evergreen trees were thick, though the path was well worn and easy to follow. Still, he might get scraped off by the odd overhanging branch. Holding the big black stallion down to a trot was excruciating, but he forced himself to be prudent.

  Suddenly, the trees gave way to a clearing. Jack reined his horse in, gazing at a figure in a beautiful blue riding habit racing to and fro across the clearing, laughing as she put her bay stallion through his paces. For the first time since he’d met her she looked truly happy. Horses were her element. They had that in common, but was it enough to build a life on?

  The entrancing figure cantered her horse between a series of stumps where trees had been cut. Head up, back straight, her breasts jutting proudly beneath her habit. And she rode astride.

  A violent stirring of his cock made him shift in his saddle and his horse nickered.

  Alethea whipped her head around at the sound. Her eyes grew large, guilt in her face, her laughter cut off as though severed by a knife. After pulling her horse to a stop, she leaned forward and stroked her mount’s neck, hiding her face. When she straightened, she wore a smile and nudged her horse toward him.

  Obviously, she’d come here for privacy, likely to relax from the recent unrelenting contact with him. He should speak to her, then leave her to her solit
ary pleasures. She was a very skilled horsewoman accompanied by a seasoned groom, so he need have no fear for her safety. Still, the thought of riding away sat ill with him.

  “Good morning, my lord,” Alethea called as her horse trotted up to him. “I didn’t know you wished to ride this morning.” The innocent face couldn’t belie the amusement in her eyes. She’d not wanted his company for this outing.

  “I must have missed you at breakfast, my dear. Otherwise we could have ridden out together.” Jack gazed at the clearing, sunshine streaming down, dappling the forest floor as though it were springtime and not the dead of winter. “You have a fine day for your ride. I wondered…” On the tip of his tongue to ask to accompany her, he mentally sighed and changed his mind. Let her have her bit of freedom or rebellion or whatever it was. She was happy. He would let her be. “I wondered if you will have luncheon with me at noon. Or as soon as you are back from your ride.”

  The blue of her eyes seemed to darken as she stared at him, unblinking. “I would very much like that.” She bent her head, worrying her reins. Her changing moods, from unrestrained joy, to wily innocence, to demure supplication fascinated him. He had much to learn about the woman he had married. And suddenly much to like.

  “Would you…would you like to stay and ride with me now?” she asked, her voice soft and hushed, almost as though she didn’t want him to hear the request. Or reject it. Then she straightened her shoulders, sat calmly, awaiting his answer, her bravado given away when she bit her lip.

  The stirring in his loins increased in intensity. His body seemed ready, even eager for this marriage to be consummated, though his mind still insisted on caution. The notion that he would never feel any desire for Alethea had swiftly been put to rest. Only a little more time, perhaps, until he would give in to his body and her desires.