Jonathan reached for her hand and lead her slowly to the bed, whereupon he sat on the edge and waited until she did the same. She lowered herself and let her feet dangle, toes brushing the wool rug. They sat facing each other and once again Aurelia was struck by the thought that her husband didn’t really want to be doing this. She was uncertain whether his hesitation was because he did not find her attractive enough or if he still did not believe she was willing.
She could think of no other way to assure him that she did not mind beyond touching him, so placed her hand on his knee. He jumped and then grinned at her shyly. She wondered if he, too, was a virgin and had as little idea how to proceed as she had. Now that she had begun, however, he seemed more willing to speed matters up. He put his hand on Aurelia’s knee. The pressure and heat from his palm felt good and, when she did not flinch, he slowly ran his hand up the side of her thigh to rest on her hip, bundling the fabric of her nightgown beneath his fingers in the process and exposing her leg to the evening air.
As the previously untouched flesh began to ripple awake with the chill, Jonathan leaned closer and hesitantly kissed Aurelia’s lips. However hesitant he might be at intercourse, he was good at that and she responded with eagerness so that when his lips grew firmer and began to move in unison it felt perfectly natural. Her head began to spin and Jonathan seemed equally affected because when he unexpectedly drew away his eyes brimmed with lust.
He moved his left hand to beside Aurelia’s head and gently kept her chin tilting up. He brought his other arm around her back and rested his hand between her shoulder blades with his fingers spread wide. Aurelia put her arms around her husband’s shoulders and without quite realising how it happened they were lying down, legs up on the bed, and were beside each other. Jonathan was still wearing his dressing gown so he paused briefly and undid the cord at the waist. Aurelia wondered if she should assist him, but he shrugged it off with ease, broad shoulders rolling back, first one, then the other. Aurelia watched in fascination as he shimmied it down his arms and let it fall to the floor, wondering if he was aware how the movement displayed the firmness of his well-shaped chest muscles through his cotton nightshirt. He rolled back over towards her and she felt something hard pressing against her thigh that she had not noticed before. Their eyes met and she saw in Jonathan’s unconcealed excitement.
The light of the candle made his sandy hair glow with flecks of gold and carved his cheekbones into sharp planes. She was not sure what her own face would show, but was consumed by a sudden sense of coyness. She rolled away to extinguish the candle beside the bed, plunging them into darkness save for the splinter of light that crept between the heavy window curtains. She turned around back into Jonathan’s waiting arms. He stroked his hand along from her wrist up her arm, then let his fingers trail over her collarbone and down until his hand came to rest on her breast. He squeezed it gently and a slight gasp escaped Aurelia’s lips as the pressure sent a thrill of pleasure racing through her body that finished and intensified at the cleft at the top of her legs. How two such distant parts of her body were connected, she wasn’t sure and didn’t care.
She put her hand to Jonathan’s chest, wondering whether the male anatomy was similarly joined. His nightshirt was fastened with a lace at the neck and a deep V-shaped opening down to just above his heart. There was room in the loose-fitting garment for her to slip her hand inside the gap and the muscles she touched were firm and covered with a light sprinkling of hairs. In her mind they were the same light brown as his hair. She stroked her fingers across them, slipping her other hand inside the neck of his nightshirt at the nape of his neck. He gave a sigh that had echoed her own and buried his head against Aurelia’s neck, kissing the exposed skin with hot quick breaths against her ear.
He rolled her onto her back and eased one leg between her two. The length of her nightgown made his task difficult. He slid his hand to where it had bunched just above her knee and drew the fabric up so that Aurelia was exposed from the waist downwards. The cold air contrasted with the heat of his firm leg pressing against hers and once again the strange cramping, clenching spark between her legs coursed.
She wasn’t sure what to do now, but fortunately Jonathan seemed willing and eager to take the lead because he drew his own nightshirt up until he, too, was half-naked. What a sight they must make, Aurelia thought, lying there in such a state. At least she now knew the answer to the question of whether she would need to be naked. Jonathan’s fingers trailed across her belly with a light touch and the delicious sensation began to grow stronger within her, like the ripple spreading out from a stone thrown into the river.
‘Are you...?’ he murmured against her ear.
Until now they had both been silent so the question came as a surprise.
Am I what? Aurelia thought. Scared? Excited? Ready?
She wasn’t sure what he was asking, but she realised that the three descriptions that had come to mind were all accurate so she turned her lips close to his.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Yes, I am.’
She felt his hand wander down through her thatch of hair to settle at the parting between her legs. Jonathan slipped a finger inside her and the sensation of such an intimate breach caused her to gasp as her body admitted the digit with ease. He drew his finger away and lowered his body on top of her. Aurelia felt the hardness of his manhood pressing against her opening where his finger had been. She drew a sharp breath as her body spasmed.
‘I will not hurt you,’ he whispered. ‘I will make it as quick as I can.’
She nodded and put her hands around his back, settling each one on a shoulder blade, and braced herself for discomfort.
That was not exactly the sensation she experienced. There was a slightly sharp lurch as he entered her that was not unpleasant. She tried to concentrate on the feeling of him moving in and out, upon how that action must be related to the increasing ripples of pleasure at the edge of her senses. It felt like trying to catch a dandelion seed that floated through the air almost within her fingers’ grasp, but when she tried to clutch it, it darted out of her reach.
She became aware that Jonathan’s breath had become audible moans that coincided with the increasing strains of his thrusts and the swollen hardness inside her. It was over quickly as he had promised, but far from feeling relieved, Aurelia was left with a sense that something had ended before it was resolved. Jonathan sagged onto her, his strength apparently gone. With one hand he brushed Aurelia’s hair back from her cheeks where it had stuck, dampened by perspiration. He kissed her cheek, then drew himself out of her body and lay beside her on his back. Now she had grown accustomed to the light from the window she could make out the shape of his chest moving up and down in time with his breath. He felt for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
‘I hope that was not too uncomfortable,’ he said.
Aurelia squeezed his hand back and smiled in the darkness. It hadn’t been uncomfortable and, if that was the duty of a wife, she could endure it for as long as it was necessary for her to fulfil her part of their marriage contract.
‘No, it wasn’t,’ she answered. ‘But thank you for your consideration.’
Jonathan sat up and dropped his feet to the floor. Aurelia was momentarily confused until she remembered he had promised that once the deed was done she would have her privacy. He put on his dressing gown and tied the cord as she sat up and looked at him. She was almost sorry he was leaving because lying beside him hand in hand had been pleasant, but she had to remind herself that for him this was just a business exchange. She should no more expect him to stay with her than to keep the company of a customer once the transaction was complete.
He stood and turned to face her. ‘Goodnight, Mrs Harcourt. I hope you will sleep well. I hope you will join me for breakfast at nine. I usually eat earlier in order to be at the mill at that time, but I thought tomorrow we might eat together. I need to pay a visit to you
r father to sign some papers and, if you wish to visit your family, we could ride together.’
‘Thank you. I will. Goodnight, Mr Harcourt,’ Aurelia replied.
Jonathan walked to the door and gave her one last look before he left, closing it quietly. As soon as he was gone Aurelia scrambled from the bed and drew back the curtains. By moonlight she washed herself with the jug of water Annie had left. The water was cold and she decided she would ask for warm water to be provided nightly. She brushed her hair loose and climbed into the bed. When she and Jonathan had lain together they had not even bothered to draw back the counterpane so the sheets were smooth and clean, though warmed a little from the heat of bodies lying on top of them.
Aurelia lay back and tried to recapture the sensations of what had taken place. Even though she had rinsed her skin, she could still catch the scent of Jonathan about her person. It was not unpleasant and, in the absence of her husband, it would have to be her only company.
Arthur’s face rose in her mind and she tried not to imagine what their wedding night would have been like if circumstances had been different. Arthur had been a passionate suitor, continually trying to coax kisses from her, and he must have loved her dearly to risk ruining her in order to claim her as his wife. There could never have been a wedding, of course. She knew that.
She was glad that Jonathan had shown enough sensitivity to leave her in private because it meant there was no one to see her weep over the man who had deceived her so basely. Far better to be married to a man who did not expect or need her heart than cause scandal with one who had broken it.
Chapter Nine
Jonathan sat opposite his bride at the small dining table while she poured his morning coffee. One week on from the wedding, they had fallen into this ritual naturally and satisfactorily. If this was to be any indication of how their future lives would be, he could dare to believe marriage to Aurelia might not be too bad after all.
Every morning she would pour the coffee, then pass it to Annie, who would carry it to Jonathan at the other end of the table. She always waited until Jonathan had put his cream in before pouring her own cup and adding a single lump of sugar which she stirred slowly until the coffee was almost cold. Black and sweet. White and bitter. They were perfect opposites in their taste for that.
‘Thank you, Annie. You may leave us,’ Aurelia told the maid.
The girl bobbed a curtsey and left the married couple together. She seemed content with taking both the roles of parlour maid and Mrs Harcourt’s personal maid in exchange for her duties as the maid to all four of the Upford women. Presumably she was not party to the intimate knowledge that the marriage was a sham and believed her young mistress and new master to be rapturously in love and wishing to spend all their time together.
Jonathan felt a trickle of heat creep stealthily across the back of his collar. The marriage was not a sham. For the past seven nights Aurelia had admitted him to her bedroom when he had quietly knocked on the door and allowed him into her bed with the same quiet compliance and an expectant look upon her face. She consented to his touches and lovemaking without complaints. More than consented, he thought, now he considered it. She appeared to derive pleasure from the time they spent in her bed, though Jonathan was careful to ensure that when he felt his final strokes coming upon him he did not hold back in order to prolong his own enjoyment. Instead he submitted to the first warning of his body and let the climax flood out of him so he did not subject her to the act any longer than necessary.
They never spoke of what passed between them once the candle had been snuffed out, but he believed she was happy. He hoped she was.
He sipped his coffee and stared at her over the rim of the cup. Aurelia lifted her eyes from the piece of toast she was buttering and glanced in his direction. When she realised he was watching her, she lowered her knife and gave him a shy smile. He held her gaze as his stomach did a somersault.
By God, she was beautiful. He was in danger of becoming besotted with her in a way that went far beyond the transactional nature of what they had agreed. It was just as well their unions took place in the dark because if he saw her expression and discovered it to be one of simple forbearance he swore he would break. Then again, if her face showed any fraction of the ecstasy that he himself felt, he would not be able to limit himself to just one attempt each night and would take longer and longer over each visit, which would not be a part of the agreement. After the first time he had laid her on her bed he had not kissed her lips. It was too intimate, too dizzyingly sensual, and if he allowed himself to indulge that need he knew he would lose himself too deeply in the whirlpool of emotions that he could feel himself edging closer to.
Her hair was swept back into a knot and she was dressed in a blue blouse which billowed out in layers of tiny ruffles over the breasts he knew by touch were full and soft. Each night she was waiting for him in the white nightgown with delicate lace, her hair in a loose plait. He imagined her clad in nothing but the finest, diaphanous silk his factory could produce as he stroked it over her belly, thighs and breasts.
‘What are you thinking about?’ she asked.
Jonathan’s breath caught. It was an odd question and she could not have asked it at a worst possible time, given the images that were going through his mind.
‘Silk,’ he said. He placed his coffee cup down and rested his arms on the table. ‘I’m thinking of what I have to do today.’
She looked at him with slight interest. ‘I wondered if perhaps one day you might show me around the mill. I’m fascinated by how simple threads turn into such beautiful cloth—it seems impossible.’
Jonathan wrinkled his brow. He never tired of watching the fine spools of silk come together to create intricate patterns. She might be interested in the process, but his wife didn’t even like to spend time in a room with too many guests. She would hate the clatter of machinery and relentless loud chatter of the workers.
‘We’ve been married for a week and I haven’t even seen beyond the gates,’ she continued.
‘It isn’t a place for a lady,’ he said. ‘The noise and the dust can be overwhelming.’
His throat tightened, thinking of Edward and the fibres that were suffocating his life day by day. He would not want Aurelia to be exposed to those, even though sense told him that an hour would not be enough to do much damage.
‘But you have women working in your factory,’ Aurelia pointed out. ‘And children. Isn’t it overwhelming for them?’
Jonathan looked at her, open-mouthed. It was the first time she had ever argued with him. The skin beneath his collar began to prickle at such flagrant confrontation.
‘Women. Not ladies,’ he said firmly. ‘They need to work there, you do not have to. The factory is no place for you.’
Aurelia’s eyes hardened. She turned the handle of her coffee cup ninety degrees, then pushed her chair back.
‘As you say. In that case I shall bid you a good morning and occupy myself in other ways. Goodbye, Jonathan.’
She walked out, leaving Jonathan burning with fury at being dismissed so abruptly.
* * *
It was only when he was halfway to the mill that it occurred to him that Aurelia had called him by his name for the very first time. It had been anger, not passion, that had broken through her decorum. His temper rose and he could very clearly understand why his father and mother had been at odds and so often. And it was not something he wished to emulate in his own marriage.
* * *
A day in the mill only strengthened Jonathan’s belief that he was right to forbid Aurelia to enter it. He was greeted with the news from Edward that the wooden rails on one of the mill’s four skein winders had split. The spider-web-thin warp threads of silk that had been so painstakingly wound had slipped and the entire process would have to begin again. If this was not enough, he found the foreman on the second floor of the building steppi
ng into what look like a brawl between two of the girls who each apparently held the other one responsible for the spilling of a basketful of bobbins.
He arrived just in time to witness the older girl leaping towards the smaller and seizing her by the hair. He had to rush to his foreman’s aid to help separate them, each grabbing one around the waist. Both girls were eventually pacified and stood sullenly listening to their employer.
‘It doesn’t matter who caused the error,’ Jonathan said as patiently as he could muster. ‘But while we are standing here the work is not being done and the mistake is not being rectified.’
Both girls glared at each other, though the younger of the two, who was no more than ten in Jonathan’s estimation, looked as if she was about to start weeping. Jonathan sensed that she had not been the one at fault. He held his hand up, stepping in between them.
‘If there was anyone else capable of completing the task quickly, I wouldn’t hesitate to show both of you to the gates myself, but you’re both good workers and I’d hate to let your skills go to waste.’
He nodded briefly to the foreman. ‘Give them a five-minute break for a cup of tea, then get them both back to work.’
He turned to the girls. ‘By rights there is nothing to stop me throwing you out, but I’m placing my trust in you. Don’t make me regret that.’
Both girls thanked him effusively and sloped off to the table at the end of the floor where tea was perpetually stewing in a pot. The younger one turned back and gave him a shy curtsey, then hurried to get her mug before the time was up.
Jonathan decided to leave his paperwork and instead spend the day walking the different floors, observing his workers.
* * *
By one in the afternoon he was irritable, with ringing ears and hair that felt stiff and greasy with the scent of human grime and silk threads. If Aurelia could see this, she would understand why he did not want her to be exposed to such a situation. He would try explaining that he had not commanded her without good reason.
The Silk Merchant's Convenient Wife Page 9
