A Too Convenient Marriage

by Georgie Lee

  ‘Do you like the ring?’ Justin asked when he caught Susanna admiring the way the diamonds sparkled in the sunlight.

  ‘It’s gorgeous. Where did you get it?’

  ‘It was my mother’s.’

  Susanna closed her hand, almost ashamed to be wearing it after the secret she’d kept. Then she stretched out her fingers and looked at it again, determined to make herself worthy of the intimate gift.

  ‘If you’d like, we could sneak out the back gate.’ Justin tempted her, his hot breath laced with wine teasing her cheek. ‘They wouldn’t miss us.’

  ‘Of course they would.’ After all the effort the Rathbones had gone to on their behalf, she didn’t want to be rude by sneaking away, no matter how much she wanted to be alone with Justin. ‘I sense Mr Charton hasn’t depleted the last of Mr Rathbone’s fine port or his store of bawdy jokes.’

  As if hearing his name, the lanky man with the red nose approached them.

  ‘Surprised us all with this wedding, Justin. I didn’t expect you to settle down. Just like your father. I was stunned the day he escorted your mother up the aisle.’ Mr Charton raised his empty wine glass to Justin before wandering off in pursuit of a footman carrying a tray laden with more drinks.

  ‘Your father isn’t here,’ Susanna said, at last noticing the older man’s absence.

  Justin shrugged, his lips drawing up into more of a grimace than the smile he’d worn since she’d come up the aisle. ‘The plentiful drink might have lured him here, but he’d have to be pleasant, something he’s no longer capable of.’

  Susanna wasn’t so sure and she intended to find out. She wasn’t going to allow the wound festering between father and son to continue.

  ‘I hope you aren’t offended by Mr Charton, or anyone else’s jokes,’ Justin asked, his humour returning.

  ‘No, I love it. A society wedding can’t compare to this, unless you enjoy sitting around like a statue with everyone bored and watching the clock tick down the minutes until they can leave.’

  He brushed the back of her neck with his fingers, sending a chill racing across her exposed skin. ‘I’m counting down the time until we can leave.’

  She offered him a seductive look, tempting him as much as he tempted her. ‘You aren’t the only one.’

  ‘Justin, stop fawning so much over your wife or all us husbands will be expected to show our wives the same favour,’ Mr Charton called out across the garden.

  Mrs Charton laid a steadying hand on him as he lurched a little to one side. ‘Careful, my dear, or you’ll have all the wives angry at you.’

  ‘Yes, a fate worse than death, isn’t it, Rathbone?’

  ‘Indeed, I’d never dream of making Mrs Rathbone angry.’ Philip brushed his wife’s lips with a kiss, lingering a little too long for the gesture to be called merely playful.

  Once witnessing such intimacy would have made Susanna envious. Today she linked her arm in Justin’s, knowing she along with the other wives here would soon be enjoying the pleasure of the marriage bed.

  At last the shadows of the rosebushes stretched across the gravel path and the chill of the coming night began to fill the air. The Rathbones’ coach was summoned and, with the guests lining either side of the front steps to wish Justin and Susanna well, the newly married couple took their leave.

  * * *

  Justin’s house wasn’t far from Bride Lane, but in the crush of carriages on the street it was some time until it rolled up to Johnson’s Court and the simple two-storey dwelling wedged between similar unassuming houses on either side. It wasn’t as fancy as the Rathbones’ or as large, but simple in a way she admired. After years living in the draughty halls of Rockland Place, she was eager for the cosiness of an unfussy home.

  Justin escorted Susanna up the steps and into the entrance hall where his servants stood ready to meet their new mistress. He introduced her to the cook, his valet who was also the butler, and the housekeeper, Mrs Robinson. They all received her warmly, even Mrs Robinson, who didn’t seem troubled by a strange woman arriving to displace her authority.

  ‘If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your room,’ Mrs Robinson entreated.

  Susanna went with her up the narrow staircase. From the height she took in more of the house. No panelling graced the walls and the furniture she could see through the open sitting-room door was from another era, though sturdy and of good quality with the exception of one or two pieces which were stashed in discreet corners. The slight formality of the decor didn’t seem to have Justin’s mark upon it and yet at the same time it did. It was uncomplicated and comfortable, yet sturdy.

  At the top of the stairs, Mrs Robinson led her into a bedroom connected by a door to Justin’s room.

  ‘I’ve seen to the arranging and unpacking of your things. If there’s anything you’d like changed, please let me know,’ Mrs Robinson offered.

  Susanna turned over the brush and comb on the fine but unadorned dressing table beside the wardrobe. On the wall above it hung the gilded frame with the miniature of her mother. This was such a different welcome from the one she’d received at the Rocklands’ house. Back then, nearly everything she’d brought with her to Rockland Place, especially her clothes, had been discarded and replaced. Lady Rockland had been too afraid of the lice which hadn’t existed to allow Susanna to keep more than the miniature. Even this had been reframed so it would match the decor of her room. It was a wonder Lady Rockland hadn’t pried it out of the frame before allowing it to leave the house yesterday. She’d probably considered the loss of the frame a small price to pay to hustle Susanna out of her life.

  Susanna moved around the small but comfortable room. Not a speck of gilding or silk marred the clean lines of the suite or made it so pristine one couldn’t touch anything for fear of ruining it. A large bed stood against the far wall and was draped with a fine yellow coverlet which matched the subtle weave in the cover of the chair beside the fireplace. Curtains in a similar cheery hue hung from the single window which overlooked the bustling street in front of the house. A wardrobe stood on the opposite wall, carved in a similar dark-and-burled wood as the bed. Susanna opened the wardrobe and fingered her dresses, which had been arranged by colour. She marvelled not just at Mrs Robinson’s efficiency, but at how at ease she felt here, as if this room were made for her. Even in the house in Oxfordshire she’d never felt completely at home, or in any of the Rocklands’ estates. In this humble dwelling, with her things spread out by a stranger, it was as if she belonged.

  ‘Is everything as it should be?’ Justin asked, opening the door adjoining his room to hers. With him the masculine scent of shaving soap, leather polish and spirits drifted in to overwhelm the more delicate notes of jasmine adorning her space. His coat was gone and he stood in his waistcoat, his powerful arms made larger by the billowing fabric of his shirt. The waistcoat was solid against the flatness of his stomach, the slight taper of it widening his already impressive chest.

  ‘It is.’ Susanna fingered the banyan draped over the back of the chair by the fire to warm it, noting from beneath her lashes how he eyed her with an eagerness which made her toes curl. She wanted to see beneath his waistcoat, to lift the linen of the shirt from his torso and trace the hard lines of muscle which must lie beneath.

  ‘Shall I help you undress, Mrs Connor?’ Mrs Robinson offered, old enough not to blush with the knowledge of what was about to happen.

  Susanna stared at the housekeeper, a little stunned. It wasn’t so much her question which shocked Susanna, but the new name, home and the station in life she’d gained, a station which suited her better than any she’d previously held.

  ‘No, I believe we can manage,’ Susanna answered, the new surety in her life giving her a true confidence to replace the one she’d feigned so many times in the past.

  Without another word, Mrs Robinson left, closing the door behind her.

  Once the lock clicked shut, the desire in Justin’s eyes ignited Susanna’s insides like a hot poker a
dded to wine to boil it. In two steps he brought the high-polished toes of his boots up to touch the satin of her slippers. The nearness of him sucked the air from the room and she looked down at the thick carpet, the confidence she’d enjoyed a few moments before deserting her.

  He slid one large finger beneath her chin and raised her face to his. ‘Don’t tell me a woman of your experience is nervous.’

  It was a joke, meant to be light and to break the tension making her stomach draw in, but it fell flat.

  ‘I may not be a virgin, but I’m not as experienced as you believe.’ She moved to the washstand near the window and fingered the curving arch of the porcelain handle. ‘Lord Howsham and I were intimate only once, in the woods at Rockland Place. He was so eager and I was so stupid to not reject him. In the end it wasn’t—’ She bit her lip, unsure how to explain.

  ‘—wasn’t for your benefit, but for his,’ Justin finished, coming to stand beside her, the linen of his shirt brushing against the bare top of her arm.

  She crossed her arms in front of her, trying to fight back the chill creeping over her. She looked up at Justin, touched he didn’t blame her or call her a whore. She shuddered to imagine what words he’d hurl at her if he discovered the result of her ill-fated encounter with Lord Howsham and how she’d duped him. She didn’t deserve this happiness.

  * * *

  Justin slid his fingers beneath Susanna’s, caressing the tender skin of her arm before he tugged her hand away and raised it to his chest. With a reassuring squeeze, he stilled her trembles, but not the unease curling her shoulders and making her draw away from him. He’d been foolish to tease her about Lord Howsham. He wouldn’t make such a stupid mistake again.

  Justin brushed the side of her face with the tips of his fingers. With her lips pressed together and her eyes wide, she appeared as fresh as the young milkmaid who’d taken his innocence many years ago while surrendering her own. He was no innocent now, but Susanna was, despite her encounter with the earl. He silently cursed the man for having fallen on her like some overeager schoolboy instead of cherishing her enough to take his time and ensure her pleasure as well as his own.

  Justin cradled her face in his hands and lowered his lips to hers. The moist softness of her mouth heightened the desire already coursing through him, but he held it back. There would be no hurrying, no cajoling of her favours, but a willingness in both of them to unite their bodies. He gently probed her lips with his tongue and with a sigh she opened to him, her body unfolding beneath his as she uncurled her arms from her waist to wrap them around him. He explored the taste of her as he ran his hands along the row of ivory buttons along the back of her dress. Starting at the bottom, he began to undo them one by one. When the silk gaped open, she gasped, but didn’t startle or cling to the modesty the fabric offered. Instead she drew away from him, allowing him to take the short sleeves of the dress and lower it down over the length of her. He admired the subtle point of her toes in the stockings as she stepped out of her slippers to raise first one foot and then the other from the circle of the dress. He laid the silk to one side, then slid a wide hand along the back of her calves, stopping just behind her knee, not ready to go higher.

  A sweep of pink spread across the tops of her breasts as he stood to admire the curve of the ivory cotton of her stays. It followed the roundness of her hips up along her waist to where the pliant garment cupped each full breast. Not wanting to leave her exposed and embarrassed, he shrugged out of his waistcoat and tossed it aside, then tugged off his boots. He undid the knot of his cravat and pulled the material out from around his neck. She watched in silence as he undressed and he flashed her a wicked smile when a small gasp of amazement greeted the removal of his shirt. The heat in her gaze as she took in his defined chest made every hour he’d spent in the ring at the pugilist club worth the effort.

  ‘Now we’re even.’ He caught her by the waist and pulled her into the curve of his body. As their lips met, her hands lay flat against his muscles, singeing his exposed skin.

  With deft fingers, he began to undo the laces of her stays, each slip of the strings through the eyelets taunting him to move faster, but he held back. He’d never rushed with a woman, but he’d never moved quite this slow either. The widows he’d enjoyed had known their way around a man enough to keep pace with him, but not Susanna. She’d indulged, but it was clear she hadn’t been allowed to enjoy a man’s body and he wanted her to revel in his as much as he relished hers.

  At last the stays opened and he let go, allowing them to drop to the floor. She broke from his kiss, moving back a touch in her hesitancy. The crisp white chemise surrounding her body glowed cream with her skin. Through the fine fabric he could just make out the pink buds of her nipples, pert against the cotton. He knew what his own body was doing to his breeches as she glanced down to his hips, a saucy smile pulling up one corner of her full lips. She caught the sides of the chemise and raised it over her head, revealing inch by glorious inch her supple body and her trust in him.

  ‘We’re no longer even,’ she purred, standing before him in nothing but the sheer silk stockings with the blue ribbons tied in dainty bows at the centre of her thighs. The candlelight danced over her skin and her full breasts were pert above her stomach which led down to the dark sable at the junction of her thighs.

  ‘Allow me to rectify the situation.’ Undoing the buttons on his fall, he slid off his breeches, stepped out of them, then straightened to catch her eyes widening at the sight of him. She bit her bottom lip not in fear, but with a hesitation laced with anticipation, which further tightened his member.

  Her soft stomach against his hardness made him groan as he tangled his hands in her hair, dislodging the pins and sending a cascade of curls spilling down over her shoulders. The feathery strands brushed his chest and he pushed one silken curl aside to cup her breast. With his thumb, he grazed the pointed tip, aware of the shiver it sent coursing through her. She raised her hands to his shoulders, gripping them tight as he continued to tease the hard point, her breathing growing heavy with his. He broke from her mouth and dipped to taste the skin of her neck, inhaling the flowery scent of her. As his tongue traced the line of her skin, she laid one cheek against his hair, the subtle move both innocent and trusting. He wanted to be worthy of it as he sank lower to take the tip of one full breast in his mouth. Her grip on him strengthened as he made small circles around it, suckling as she arched her back so he could taste more.

  His hands rested on her hips to steady her against him, but he hesitated to move lower and worship the more intimate part of her, afraid the force of her reaction might undo his control. There’d be plenty of time to show her more. Tonight he wanted her to experience the most basic of pleasure, the one denied to her in the past.

  Sliding one hand beneath her arms so the side of her full breasts grazed his skin, he moved his other arm beneath her thighs and raised her up. She wasn’t heavy, but fitted perfectly against him, her lips light and teasing against his neck as he carried her to his room. A few candles flickered in the holder beside the bed, but the fire in the grate roared, increasing the heat generated by their bodies. He laid her down on the cool sheets, then stretched out beside her.

  ‘You’re beautiful...’ he breathed as he traced the curve of her waist and trailed his fingertips down over her hips before sliding between her thighs and into her pleasure.

  ‘Justin, I—’ She shifted against his hand, searching for something denied to her as his thumb teased her.

  ‘I know,’ he murmured against her arched neck, his ability to hold back with her body tightening around his failing. He wanted her as much as she wanted him and she was ready.

  She moaned in frustration as he slipped his fingers from her, but she opened her legs to him and he settled between her thighs. With languid, questioning eyes she watched him, moving beneath him until his manhood pressed against her need. He paused, noting her silent entreaty for more in the flush of her skin and the faint parting of her
lips. The other women he’d been with had been demanding in their desire to be satisfied, but she waited, eager for him to lead her, and he wouldn’t fail her. Here was someone who understood him and what it was to endure the attacks of family and the doubts of many. She supported him, believing in him when those he’d once thought his friends refused to, trusting him even in this most intimate of moments.

  He slid his arms beneath her back, his fingertips digging into her skin as the softness of her curves pressed into his angular body and he slipped fully into her, bringing her closer to him than anyone had ever been before.

  * * *

  Susanna dug her nails into his shoulder blades as he moved slow and steady inside her, solid against her like a wall. She lost herself in the strength of him as he caressed her hip and trailed his finger over her stomach until he reached between them to touch her. She cried out at the sensation of his fingers working her pleasure as his member stroked in time to his movements.

  This was no greedy fumbling or a hurried slaking of his need, but a lingering taste of affection and a deepening of the connection which had been growing between them these past few days. In this as in everything, he was careful and kind to her in a way almost everyone else had never been. Lord Howsham had used her body and ignored her, while the rest had torn at her heart, leaving her to bleed. Justin would never be so unkind.

  She entwined her legs with his, drawing him deeper into her body. It wasn’t just physical desire driving her on, but a more intense need rising up from the place she’d kept hidden from everyone. For the first time since her mother had died, there was someone to protect her and truly care for her and it touched her more than all the play of his fingers across her back. She was his wife. He would keep her safe and give her more than his body and name and worldly goods.