Deborah Simmons

by The Last Rogue

  Once in her own room, Jane carefully avoided the broken glass to complete her toilet. She hesitated a moment over her gown, a lifetime of clothing herself in drab garments making her pause, but eventually she chose a simple lavender cottage dress sent by the countess. Stifling a worry that she might soil the bombazine, she tied a handkerchief around her throat and headed to the dining hall.

  She was rewarded for her efforts when Raleigh finally appeared, perfectly turned out, perfect in every way…and paused to stare at her. His hand fumbled at his waistcoat, as if searching for a missing quizzing glass, before he caught himself and bowed low.

  “My lady, you look lovely indeed,” he said in a voice that danced along her nerve endings to pluck at her heartstrings. Blushing furiously, Jane merely nodded in acceptance, for if she wasn’t really beautiful, surely Raleigh’s admiration made her so.

  Her elation lasted through her own small breakfast, while Raleigh devoured eggs, kippers, ham and toast with jam. Where she once would have turned up her nose in disgust, Jane now found herself fascinated by his prodigious appetite and his apparent enjoyment of every bite. When she watched his lean hands spread the fruit, something in her chest became oddly arrested, and she blinked, heat swamping her, as he lifted the treat to his mouth.

  He must have noticed her attention, for he grinned at her. “Have a taste, Jane, love?” he whispered. Startled, Jane leaned back, away from the proffered toast with a shake of her head.

  Laughing, Raleigh returned it to his mouth, and although Jane knew she should ignore him, she stared, rapt, as he studied her under lowered lashes. Slowly, as if drawing out the moment, he took a bite, swallowed, and when he licked his lips, Jane felt as if he had touched her with his tongue. Shivering, she finally tore her gaze from his, only to hear him chuckle softly.

  “I’ll turn you into a sensualist yet,” he promised wickedly, making her blush. “Food is a feast for the senses, love, and meant to be savored.”

  Although she tried to sniff in disapproval, Jane found some small secret part of her agreed with him. Why had she been denying herself? She adored sweets, yet at some point she had decided not to indulge—in desserts and colorful gowns and so much else. Jane trembled, suddenly hungry for all of it. For everything.

  Stunned by the force of her yearning, she pushed away from the table, as if to escape it—or Raleigh. Certainly, she could never think clearly when he was so near, and besides, she needed to get back to her work. But as she prepared to rise, he halted her with a casual announcement that made her stiffen in surprise.

  “Don’t run off, Jane, for since the rain stopped in the evening, the roads should be passable today.”

  All thoughts of escape were forgotten as Jane looked at him in alarm. “You cannot mean for us to leave!” she cried.

  He eyed her quizzically. “You cannot mean for us to stay after last night.”

  Jane stared at him in astonishment. Certainly, the broken window had been distressing, but she never thought to turn tail and run. “You cannot be so cowardly as to let a simple stone and a misspelled message make you flee!” she protested.

  Seeing something like a flicker of pain in his eyes, Jane felt guilty. Had she not vowed to be more agreeable? But she was not ready to leave Craven Hall, nor would she give some base miscreant the pleasure of driving her away.

  “You may not care for the notion, but I am your husband, and I have vowed to protect you,” Raleigh said softly. “What would your father say if I let you come to harm while in my care?”

  Jane flushed at the gentle reminder, for she would never have expected Raleigh to feel responsible! But had she not worried about him, too? The knowledge that he might share some of her sentiments made her giddy and yet all the more determined to stay at Craven Hall. Far from his home and hers, it was the only place that felt right to her somehow. “I hardly think an errant rock is cause for alarm! And besides, we cannot go, for. it is exactly what they wish.”

  Raleigh sighed. “Well I know it, Jane, and I like it no better than you, but I refuse to put you in danger.”

  “We have done well enough together so far,” she said. Blushing and turning her head away, she nevertheless heard the low intake of his breath.

  “Lud, Jane, if only I didn’t feel so demned isolated here,” he muttered, tossing his napkin aside.

  She whirled her face toward him once more, seizing upon this small hint of indecision. “Peg said we should go to her village to find servants, that she knows of those who will be grateful for the work.”

  Raleigh sighed. “I suppose the farther afield from Craven Hall and its strange reputation, the better our chances. I could send Antoine out today.”

  “Oh, would you?” Even though she knew her response was excessive, Jane felt joy sing through her. Perhaps there was something to be said for excess.

  Raleigh nodded. “I would feel better with a staff—to protect you, not to cater to me,” he explained with a pointed look.

  “Of course,” Jane said. Giving in to her elation, she smiled, and Raleigh gazed at her for a long moment, as if astonished, before grinning himself.

  “I’ll speak to Antoine, but first I want to take a look outside.” He rose gracefully, and although she had plenty of work awaiting her, Jane joined him. She told herself that she should be privy to any clues he discovered, and yet her heart leapt in a way that could hardly be ascribed to investigation, only to the nearness of Raleigh.

  Although a warm night had done much to improve them, the grounds were still damp, and Jane lifted her skirts. The sight of the soft pastel startled her when she looked down, but it also thrilled her, as did Raleigh’s appreciative glances. After the rain, the day looked all dewy and fresh, and Jane felt as if she were seeing everything—especially her husband—with new eyes. The breeze that blew over the moor, chasing away the clouds, was bright with promise, and it echoed in her heart, rife with hope.

  Still, Jane said nothing of these ripe new feelings as she picked her way around the neglected garden behind her husband. Raleigh stopped to kneel several times, as if searching for footprints, but the tangled growth left no mark, and with a sigh, he finally abandoned his efforts. He did not turn back to the house, however, instead continuing on to where they had found the skull.

  In the daylight, all looked as it should, and Jane took a deep breath, enjoying the clean air. Off to the west she saw a glint of dark water, and marching through the tall grass, she found an old pond, scummy and choked with weeds. “Oh, I wonder if there are any fish left?” she asked.

  Raleigh gave the muddy area a jaundiced look. “I doubt if even the hardiest could survive that muck.”

  But Jane was already walking around the edge, envisioning a cobbled path, border flowers and a stone bench, perhaps some boulders for fishing with the children. Children? The thought drew her up short, for her brothers and sisters were far away in Sussex. She rubbed her arms, struck with a sudden chill, as another idea formed. But instead of pushing it away, Jane paused to savor it.

  Her children. She had never dared to consider herself as a mother, but now…She stole a quick glance at her husband, wondering what he would do if she brought up the subject. Although she had always thought Raleigh a sad scapegrace, unfit for responsibility, now she imagined him as a delightful parent. Her own father had been kind and loving, if distracted, but Raleigh would be that and more. Raleigh would be fun.

  Jane could easily imagine him playing with little ones, whether romping like wild Indians or sneaking away to string a fishing line and sleep in the grass—as long as his clothes did not get dirty. She studied him with a frown as she wondered if his vanity might interfere, and lost in her thoughts, she did not realize that she was staring at him moodily until he stepped forward, spreading his arms wide.

  “Now what? Have I muddied my breeches?” he asked.

  Jane shook her head. “No, of course not. You are always perfectly groomed,” she said with a tinge of asperity.

  “And that, I
take it, is why you always look at me with such disgust?” Raleigh asked, lifting his brows in question.

  “No, certainly not,” Jane said.

  “Hmm. So you say, but I would dearly like to know when you decided to disapprove of everything about me. As I recall, you have always disliked me,” Raleigh complained.

  Until last night, Jane had thought so herself, but now she knew the truth, and his introduction of the subject made her blink guiltily. She looked away, uncertain whether she wanted to share her secret. “I was not indifferent to you,” she murmured, reaching out to pull at a tall stalk of grass.

  Raleigh laughed gaily. “No, you always gave me sour looks as though I left a bad taste in your mouth.”

  Jane flushed. “I admit that my behavior was not always as it should have been, but I had my reasons.”

  “And they were?” Raleigh studied her with ill-concealed amusement.

  Jane took a deep breath, feeling both giddy and reckless as she proceeded to pick apart the stalk in her hand. “It is difficult to explain, actually, but I was rather awed by you, it seems.”

  “Awed?” She heard the incredulity in Raleigh’s voice, and she could hardly blame him after all the times she had treated him as a pariah.

  “Awed. Interested. Admiring.” Jane paused to take another deep breath. “My admiration for you was such that I did not know how to act, and so I acted deplorably. Forgive me.” There, she had just apologized for years of rudeness, but she felt no relief, only a deeper anxiety over Raleigh’s response. When the silence stretched on unbearably, Jane gave him a sidelong glance, although she hardly dared to judge his reaction.

  She nearly wept with relief to see that he was wearing an expression of total astonishment, as if she had just announced that pigs could fly or fishes sing, and Jane could feel her lips twitch in response. She smiled, and he focused on her, his idiotic look replaced with a lazy one, heavy with intent.

  “If your idea of winning my regard was to glower at me, no wonder we have had such a time of it,” he said softly, and something in his voice raised her every nerve to alertness. Grinning wickedly, he advanced upon her, and Jane squeaked in both alarm and delight. He was but a step away from her when he halted and made a great show of gazing all around, behind him and even overhead before he turned back to her.

  “What is it?” Jane asked.

  “Just keeping an eye out for impending disaster, love. It seems that whenever I reach for you something happens to call a halt to my wooing, and, unfortunately, it usually involves some sort of indignity to my person,” he said, with a wry grimace.

  “Oh,” Jane whispered, for he was right. He had already been pelted with newspapers, stained with ceiling leaks and hailed with broken glass. Would he give up on her entirely?

  “I vow it’s dangerous to come near you, Jane. Either I’m turning into a fumbling clod, or I do believe our ghost does not want me touching my wife,” he added, with an emphasis on touching that made Jane shiver as if he was already doing so.

  Blushing furiously, she felt a wild urge to throw herself into his arms, but her old insecurities held her back. Although Raleigh finally had managed to convince her that he desired her, was it just because she was conveniently here with him, or was there more? How much did he want her? And was simply wanting her enough?

  Swamped with doubts, Jane hesitated, but Raleigh did not. He inched closer, his gaze heady with promise. “Indeed, I suspect that should I attempt to consummate our marriage, lightning would probably strike me, shriveling the necessary equipment down to nothing.”

  Jane tried to sniff with disapproval at his blunt speech, but he was too close, and the suggestion that they consummate their vows put her thoughts into disorder, let alone the rest of her, which was sparking like lightning, ready to strike. It hit suddenly when he reached for her, his hands closing gently around her shoulders. They had fallen into a degree of casualness at Craven, so he wore no gloves, and the warmth of his fingers sent her senses into a giddy clamor.

  “Jane, love,” he whispered as he drew her near, and she tilted her face up eagerly for his kiss. If this husky endearment was not enough, then it would have to do, for she could no longer deny her own fevered yearnings.

  He took her lips in small tastes, as if relishing their texture and flavor, first one, then the other, before pressing kisses to the corner of her mouth. He was gentle and coaxing, but Jane was starved for sensation, and she slid her arms around his neck, opening under him. She heard his low hum of interest, and then his tongue was inside, making exhilarating forays that stole her very breath.

  Pressing closer, Jane wound her fingers into his hair, glorying in the smooth thickness. But it was not only the feel of his locks that excited; she reveled in her chance to tousle his perfect coiffure. Somehow she had to make her mark upon him, so that he did not come out of this encounter as unaffected as usual. Already, she felt her own inhibitions slipping away at the hard contact of his body, the hot delight of his caress.

  He tore his mouth from hers, and Jane was startled to hear her soft sound of protest, but he only moved his attention lower, across her jaw to nibble at her neck. “You have beautiful ears,” he whispered. And when he proceeded to demonstrate his admiration by tracing his tongue inside, she trembled in shocked pleasure.

  As if to hold her steady, Raleigh slipped one hand to anchor her waist, while the other wandered from her shoulder to cup her breast. Before she knew what he was about, his clever fingers were tugging at her gown. Although stylish, it was cut far lower than any of her own, and Jane soon felt the startling brush of air upon her bare flesh.

  But Raleigh warmed her with the heat of his touch, and she gasped at the feeling, so much more vivid than last night’s stolen caress in her dimly lit chamber. Though they were secluded among the trees and tall grass, today the sun shown brightly, revealing her disheveled state to her own eyes. The sight was stunning, and she held her breath to see his golden fingers poised over her pale flesh. It was shocking and exotic and enticing, and she blinked breathlessly as she watched his perfect hair brush against her throat.

  Holding her gown open with his hand, he dipped his head, his lips pressing lightly against her sensitive skin, and to Jane’s astonishment, his tongue darted out, licking and laving her until she shivered and squeaked. At the sound, he lifted his face long enough to grin at her wickedly, and then he bent over her breast once more, taking her nipple into his hot mouth.

  “Ah!” Jane gave a strangled cry as pleasure swamped her, traveling from her chest to every part of her body and pooling low between her legs. Jane, who had spent a lifetime shutting herself off from sensation, was greedily aware of everything—the warm breeze that ruffled Raleigh’s light brown locks, the fragrance of wildflowers drifting from the moor, and the heady noises her husband made while suckling her. The hot pull of his lips and tongue made her giddy, but most of all, she relished the sight of him, his handsome face buried in her bosom, feeding from her flesh as though she were one of his favorite meals.

  It was all too much for her, and yet not enough. Her body throbbed and ached lower down, and she wanted to run her hands over him, stripping off his elegant clothing until she could press kisses to him, just as he was doing to her. Taste him, as he was tasting her.

  Whimpering at her own wild thoughts, Jane cried out in a combination of anguish and joy when he turned his attention to her other breast. “Raleigh! Oh, Deverell, oh, please!” She begged for she knew not what as she threw her arms around him once more. Rising on her toes, she lowered her hands to his behind and tried to somehow get closer.

  With a groan, Raleigh responded to her pleas and lifted her high. For one glorious moment, she felt the hot hardness of him pressed to the juncture of her thighs before he stepped back and swayed, making Jane abruptly aware of their whereabouts. They were not in one of the bedchambers at Craven Hall, but outside, perilously close to the soft ground near the pond.

  Unfortunately, her realization came too la
te, for even Raleigh’s natural grace was defeated as the muddy slope gave way. Releasing her with a low oath, he sought purchase, and might have found it, but Jane was off balance and could not regain her footing. Instead, she grabbed for Raleigh, and they both fell.

  Into the pond.

  Jane heard the splash, then flinched as she was sprayed with dirty water. With a squeak, she rose to her feet, only to see Raleigh flat on his back in the overgrown shallows. “Oh!” She reached a hand out to help him up, but when he stood, dripping, his elegant clothes covered with mud and weeds and scum from the stagnant water, she shrieked in horror. “Raleigh, your coat!”

  Instead of echoing her sentiments, he merely shook his head, sending droplets of water into the air. “Blast the thing,” he muttered, reaching for her. And to her utter astonishment, he pulled her close, finding her mouth again with unerring ease.

  “B-but my gown!” Jane managed to sputter as she tore her lips away.

  “I’ll buy you a new one, love,” he muttered, drawing her down with him into the grass. Seemingly without a care for their berth or dishevelment, he moved over her, covering her body with his own. He pressed himself between her thighs, making her gasp.

  “Raleigh! Deverell!” Jane said. The heady passion that had engulfed her had been dampened by her dip in the pond, leaving her oddly uncomfortable and unsure, and she placed a restraining hand upon his chest as she struggled for air. However, when Raleigh lifted his head, his eyes dark and dazed, Jane lost her breath once more, overwhelmed by a rush of elation such as she had never known.

  “What’s that?” he asked, his words thick. Blinking at her for a long moment, he finally appeared to remember himself. Rolling from her abruptly, he fell onto his back. “Beg your pardon, love. I do believe I was carried away,” he muttered ruefully.