‘I think Lady Lydia and yourself are correct, my lord. The very gentleman. Who, if it is to be believed, is on his way with new directives from you.’
Lydia shook her head and Harry heard her mutter something about dismembering. He’d have to make sure never to get on his lady’s bad side. He smiled faintly before once more addressing Williams. ‘Ah, the plot thickens. Does he say when?’
Williams nodded his head. ‘All in the letter you hold, my lord.’
‘Then one moment.’ Harry scanned the letter rapidly and mentally swore. Jeremy needed a firmer hand than he, Harry, in deference to the man’s status – and his mama – could show him. If all this were true, and he saw no reason why it shouldn’t be, his heir was well on his way to becoming a hardened criminal and would need to be stopped.
‘Do you know any boats heading to India?’ he asked. ‘That we can use for my plan…’ He looked back at the letter. ‘After the day after tomorrow?’
Williams steepled his hands together and looked thoughtful. Across the room Lydia sipped her ale and looked thoughtfully from one man to the other.
She cleared her throat. ‘My papa has, I believe, an interest in the Cristobel, which is due to sail from Plymouth on, let me think, today is Tuesday the twenty-fifth. Mama’s letter came yesterday – yes, I told Esther to let the cat out of the bag this week – and she remarked they may be down next month as – ah yes, I have it – the Cristobel sails for India on the twenty-ninth, and around the twentieth of next month they have a spice boat arriving. I’m not sure what that has got to do with the Cristobel, but there we are. Is that too far ahead? I imagine she was just being chatty and knows I really am not interested in ton gossip.’
‘Whatever, she’s done us a great service,’ Harry said and looked at Williams. ‘If you prefer not to be involved, now is your chance to tell me.’
‘Do not even think to leave me out,’ Williams said fiercely. ‘He has duped me into giving away your money. I’d like half an hour with him alone, I can tell you. I might not look it but I was somewhat of a good pugilist in my youth.’
Did everyone have hidden depths, Harry wondered as, an hour later, their plans to show Jeremy the error of his ways were sketched out and agreed on. First Lydia and now Williams. He almost dreaded to hear what Jem’s hidden talent was.
They indulged in another glass of ale as they waited while Williams sent an errand boy to see if Bert senior was around and, if so, to ask whether he could join them, and then to purchase new gloves for Lydia.
‘I’ll be squiffy soon,’ Lydia said cheerfully, ‘but what the… harm can it do for once,’ she finished with a smile. ‘And it is very good ale.’
‘Home-made, miss,’ Williams said. ‘A hobby of mine.’
‘Then you now have a commission,’ Harry said. ‘A barrel to Orchard House, please. Ah…’ Heavy, running footsteps outside got louder. ‘That sounds like a visitor.’
There was a rap on the door and, as Williams called a welcome, Bert Pickles entered, puffing slightly.
‘M’lord, I want to say how generous you are and the boys are in alt and well…’ He broke off, gulped, and bowed. ‘What can I do to help you?’
‘Is your boat capable of delivering a package to another boat, which is due to sail to India from Plymouth on the twenty-ninth? The Cristobel. That reminds me.’ He turned to Lydia. ‘We’ll need to get your papa’s permission.’
‘Ah.’ She coloured. ‘I was a bit economical with the truth. The rest of my letter says that, as they are happy I have seen sense…’ She rolled her eyes. ‘And hopefully settled down – that is a subtle reference to the letter we concocted…’
Harry shrugged and grinned, glad that the presence of Williams and Bert, both interested onlookers, saved her from saying any more.
‘That is a good start then. You were also saying?’
‘Oh yes. The Cristobel has a new owner. Me. And the master has been informed of it. I’m not quite sure how that will go down, but it should serve for me to write a letter to be handed to him saying I authorise the, er, irregular passenger.’ She didn’t say ‘and of course Papa expects it will be yours when we marry’. She didn’t have to, as it was the law. Harry, though, decided his marriage would be different and Lydia should keep her fortune to do with as she wished. However, this wasn’t the time to discuss it.
‘That’s good then, if Mr Pickles can aid us?’ He looked at Bert, who flushed at being addressed so formally and nodded.
‘I can do that. My boat’s a good ‘un and we regularly fish well away from here.’
‘Then be ready any time from two days hence.’
An hour later, with as many wrinkles ironed out as they could think of, Harry handed Lydia into the carriage he’d arranged and took up the reins. Behind them a barrel of Williams’s ale was securely fastened, and Lydia’s hands were covered in the new, clean, white-lace gloves that Williams’s runner had been dispatched to get once he’d found Bert Pickles.
‘That went well,’ Harry said as he tooled the carriage out of the docks and along the road, which led towards Newton Abbot and the bridge over the river. It was a lengthy drive but, with a stop halfway for a snack, he trusted it would be agreeable. It would also give them time to make plans.
‘Do you think we have everything covered?’ he asked Lydia as he urged the horses to pick up their pace and engage in a fast trot. This close to the town, the road wasn’t suitable for anything faster. ‘When Jeremy goes to the docks, Williams and Pickles will greet him. I’ll be nearby and, once he knows just what I think of him, he will be given the options. Trial by his peers or deportation to India. Then we marry.’
‘Yes,’ she said flatly. ‘Just like that.’
Harry mulled over her answer, realising he had not sounded very lover-like.
Swiftly, he checked the road for traffic and, on spotting a lane, turned down it. It was narrow, scarcely wide enough for the carriage. Cow parsley and dog roses brushed the sides of the vehicle and dropped pollen and petals onto them. The lane bent and the road was hidden from view.
‘Where are we going?’ Lydia asked without much interest. ‘Is this a faster way home?’
‘No.’ Harry spotted a field gate and pulled up in the entrance.
Lydia swivelled on her seat to face him. ‘No? What is going on?’
‘The next part of your wooing.’ He looked across the river several hundred yards below them, across fields showing the beginnings of a good crop of wheat, and to the fields and hedgerows closer to.
Perfect. Harry swung down, tied the reins to the gate and stalked around the carriage to tug her to stand on the ground next to him. She put her hand in his and straightened her skirts.
‘Oh good. Is this a next step up?’
‘Step up?’ He wan’t sure what she meant.
‘Well, I assumed we progress in steps towards…’ She blushed. ‘You know.’
‘Oh, I know, and you will soon.’ He chuckled. ‘If you are a good girl.’ He took her face in his hands and made her look at him. ‘Are you a good girl, Lydia?’ Harry asked in a mocking tone. ‘What do I have to do to persuade you to be a very bad good girl?’
Her eyes shot darts of fire at him and her bosom heaved under her clothes. The rosy flush of temper spread downward and Harry’s body tightened at the thought of how far it might spread. One day, when he had her naked, it would be worth finding out. Then she smiled. ‘Why don’t you find out?’
He patted her bottom. Even before he lifted his hand he accepted it had been a very patronising pat.
He didn’t see it coming until it was almost too late
Even tensing all his stomach muscles, her punch was enough to send him reeling.
‘Hellfire, that hurt.’ Lydia tugged off her glove and threw it disgustedly on the ground. ‘Ouch.’ She sucked her knuckles and glared at Harry who wheezed as he stood, doubled up, in front of her. ‘You ass. Now I have scraped hands and have no doubt ruined yet another pair of gloves. Why, Harry, for
God’s sake, why?’ Her anger left her like a balloon deflating and she sighed. ‘Why…’ she asked again, quietly this time, ‘did you spoil it?’
‘Why?’ He stood up and rubbed his solar plexus. ‘Why? You bloody infuriating woman, I’ll tell you why.’ He took two steps towards her. Lydia regarded him warily and took two back.
‘I love you, that’s why,’ Harry shouted the words and moved forward again and Lydia realised the gate was at her back.
‘I am scared I’ll do or say the wrong thing. Like that pat. It’s like walking across a battlefield and dodging the sabres. I am in the dark with regards to wooing the woman I love. Totally at sea.’
Unless she could climb the five bars – which in her present dress was not likely – he had her trapped. She wondered about, and distrusted, the glint in his eyes, the wolfish expression on his face, and then his words filtered through her scrambled brain.
‘I cannot imagine life without you to keep me in check. To love me, share our children, and keep us all in check. To know you are with me, for me and for us. To let you do as you want and pray it includes me. Not to curb your independence or spirit but let you use them for us. Us. A partnership.’ He took a deep breath and Lydia watched his chest heave. Saw the unshed tears in his suspiciously bright eyes and allowed herself to hope.
‘Us,’ he said softly. ‘You, me, and whoever else. I love you, Lydia, only you, and I worry I’ll do something wrong and spoil it.’
‘My love, you couldn’t. Not now. I’m yours for ever.’ Sheer, unadulterated delight poured through her. ‘So…’ Lydia licked her lips. ‘How about you show me just what love is?’ Very forwardly, she ran her finger down his cheek and tucked it into the edge of his cravat and tugged a little. ‘Then I’ll know whether to forgive you for having what you thought were my best interests at heart.’ Said heart thudded uncomfortably as Harry cocked his head and stared at her, his expression unfathomable.
‘Love?’
The expression of sheer delight made her heart jump. ‘Oh yes,’ she said quietly. ‘Love. For my love is ready to blossom, you know.’ In that moment she knew it was really true. ‘I fought it, because I was so sure my way was the right way. Until you showed me otherwise and gave me a glimpse of our glorious future. Now I want to discover more.’
He swallowed and Lydia paused to decide how best to convince him she was speaking the truth. After all, might he not think it a bit sudden? From flat no to yes please had happened somewhat suddenly, and she hadn’t really had a lot of time to express what it all meant to her.
Truth time.
‘I have to confess, I did tell Esther my feelings had changed and become involved with how I feel for you.’ She giggled as her nerves overtook her. ‘Including the fact I’m mightily interested in just how you can use a bed apart from sleeping.’
Harry nodded, just once. ‘I like that. Go on.’
‘I added that, when you were near, my nerves jumped and my brain scrambled. That you made my heart race and my skin tingle. That I suddenly had an urge to feel you naked next to me and to discover what made a perfect couple mesh. And yes, I hid it. After all, who would blame you if you didn’t believe me? I’d been so adamant about what I wanted. Even when I showed a little interest, shall we say, I felt you didn’t believe me.’ She gulped at the brief flare of heat that showed in his eyes. ‘I fought it as long as I could, but now we are…’ Very daring, Lydia began to untie his cravat. ‘I want to know it all.’
‘Try before you buy, so to speak,’ Harry said huskily.
Lydia smiled. ‘Well, not on my side, but maybe you should know what you’re getting. Will you help me to show you?’ This was it; she had nothing else she could say. Very carefully she moved her hands from his cravat and put them to her sides, as she waited to hear what he might say.
‘I rather like the idea of you showing me how you love me,’ Harry said in a voice that made her body tighten. ‘Come with me.’
Was it too forward to run?
****
What the hell was he doing? This was a well-brought-up young lady he intended to deflower among the flowers. With no fancy settings, nothing to make it the special occasion it was. She deserved more. Harry snagged his cape from behind the seat and swung Lydia into his arms.
‘Wha…?’ She put her arms around his neck and let her head rest on his shoulder.
‘I want it to be special,’ he said huskily. ‘I want it to be a magical moment for us both. I can give you flowers but no sweet music, no soft bed strewn with rose petals, no fine wine or silken sheets.’ He looked towards a corner of the field where more bushes banked the verge between it and the lane, and where nothing overlooked and no one would be able to see them except the skylark that sang overhead. ‘All I can give you is a bed of grass and my body.’
‘Ah, my love…’ Lydia moved to graze her lips over his neck. ‘Don’t you realise? All I want is you. The rest is mere decoration.’
Harry stopped walking, his eyes stung with unshed tears, and his throat clogged with emotion. ‘Then, my love, you shall have me.’ He put his cloak down on the ground and lowered her feet so she stood next to it. ‘We shall have each other. Turn around.’ She complied with alacrity and looked back over her shoulder.
‘My laces are under my jacket.’
He watched as she unbuttoned that garment and held it out to him.
‘Our pillow?’
‘Why not?’ He shrugged out of his own jacket. ‘Along with this.’ In seconds he’d rolled them into a fair imitation of a pillow and began to loosen her dress. ‘As much as I want you naked, love, we might have to make do. Just in case, ah, shall we say, a cowman happens to be passing. I need to be able to cover your confusion.’
Lydia gurgled and spluttered. ‘Oh, the picture that conjures up. Is alfresco lovemaking always so fraught with danger?’
‘Always. Do you want to stop? Hell, I hope not. My staff is hard enough to break rocks with.
‘Oh no. I have decided I’d like to live dangerously with you.’
‘Thank God for that,’ he said frankly. ‘I’d have had to leave you and ease my pain in other ways. No, don’t ask – I’m not going to tell you yet.’ He eased her gown down off her shoulders and under her breasts – breasts he ached to taste – and pulled her towards him so her naked back rested on his linen-covered chest. Very carefully, Harry slipped his hands under her arms and stroked the soft swell of each bosom. As her breath sped up and she moaned softly, he let the pads of his fingers trail gently over her nipples. She gasped.
‘Oh my.’
He stopped and let his fingers hover above her skin. She pushed her breasts into his palms.
‘No, no, go on. Please, don’t stop. I want it all, Harry, I need it, I need you.’ Her tone was frenzied, her voice so deep it sounded uncomfortable to talk. ‘I’ll beg.’
‘No need to beg. Let me help you down. Stretch out on your back.’ As if she were spun glass he helped her to position herself as he desired. Her head rested on their jackets, her dresses shoved down to her waist baring her top half, and below, all was covered by green-and-lilac-sprigged muslin. Daring and demure. What a combination.
Harry held her gaze as he stripped off his shirt and deliberately opened the placket of his trousers. Her eyes widened as his staff sprung free of its confines and waved in the warm air. To a more experienced lover, he’d have quipped about it saying hello. To Lydia he merely smiled and stretched out alongside her, his head propped on his hand. Her eyes never left his erection and she swallowed.
‘That will fit in me?’
Harry nodded. ‘Perfectly, I promise you.’ He stroked her breast again and watched her eyes darken and her pupils dilate. ‘Good?’
‘Oh yes.’ She breathed the words and moved her hand towards him and hesitated.
‘I’d like it if you touch me,’ he said hoarsely. ‘You won’t hurt me.’ Not in the way he imagined she might think. ‘In fact, I would go so far as to say that I’ll hurt more if you don�
�t.’
Her fingers feathered over his length and he bit back a groan.
‘Like this?’
‘Just like that, as soft or hard as you like, within reason.’
‘Then maybe?’ She circled the girth of his cock with both hands and tightened her grip just a little. God, her innocence was appealing, the earnest look on her face entrancing, and her desire to do what he wanted enough to make him want to come there and then.
Lydia moved her hands up and down and his staff jumped. She let go as if it were fire and gulped. ‘You… did… oh lord, I’ve done something wrong. You’re wet. Oh lordy, why?’
Harry took a deep breath. ‘That, my love, is my arousal. What helps me to slip into you and give you just sweet pain. And now I think, for my sanity, I best take the lead.’ Or really give you more than you bargained for. My release all over you.
‘Oh… oh yes…’ Lydia wriggled on his cloak. ‘So…?’
‘So… lie back and feel.’
****
How could she put into words what she experienced as Harry stroked his fingers up each leg in turn? With each caress her skin grew hotter, her mind fuzzy, and her ability to do anything other than live through her senses disappeared. For the first time in her life, Lydia lost control and let her senses – and Harry – take over.
Cool air wafted over her mound and she lifted her head only to be pushed firmly prone once more.
‘Just use your inner senses, remember. Let go and feel.’
Oh, she felt. Harry bent his head and took one nipple in his mouth. He nibbled and sucked. She bit back a scream. Had he really done what she thought he had?
It seemed so. His wicked chuckle caressed her skin and he addressed the other nipple in the same way. Her senses reeled and something – oh heavens, his finger – stroked the wiry hairs that covered her mound. That which she’d read men called a honey pot. That was altogether too sickly. She must remember to ask Harry…
Any thoughts of what she thought to ask him disappeared as one long finger slid inside her and moved
Moved. It moved. ‘Ah well…’
‘All right?’
The Lord's Persuasion of Lady Lydia Page 25
