The Earl's Inconvenient Wife

by Julia Justiss

  As he gradually gained mastery of the thousand estate details he had to learn, the merciful boon of those long hours of work would disappear. But for now, with everything else he had to deal with, he was heartily grateful not to have to wrestle with restraining his desire for her.

  And then his heart leapt, pulling him from his tired reflections, as he spotted Temper approaching down the drive.

  ‘Here,’ she said, holding out a welcome mug of ale as she reached him. Craning her neck towards the stables, she continued, ‘I hope the groom has something equally reviving for your horse, or I may have to charge you with animal neglect. The poor nag looks done up.’

  ‘Yes, I told Hoarly to give him an extra ration. We rode the entire southern border today and, though the river level has gone down somewhat, it’s pretty heavy going, with the sucking mud of the verges and the pools of standing water. I’d take you there, but the riding is still dangerous.’

  ‘The two failed steam pumps haven’t been repaired yet?’

  The ones his father and brother had been going to investigate the morning they drowned. ‘Not yet. After inspecting them, I agreed with Randolph that we should reinstall the windmill devices on top, so we may get some pumping use from them until we can bring in some steam mechanics from Lincoln. Our local wheelwright, wainwright, farrier and blacksmith have all had a go, trying to fix them, with no luck.’

  ‘You trust Randolph’s advice?’

  He took a swig of ale before responding. ‘I guess I have to. He’s been the estate agent here for twenty years and certainly knows the place far better than I do. I’ve not really lived here since I was sent away to school at age six.’

  He brushed away the memory, still hurtful after all these years, that after a modicum of education at Eton, his elder brother had been summoned back home to be tutored by clerics, his father considering the education of his heir in the running of his estate more important than a stint at university. Even more important, Giff knew, he’d wanted his eldest son with him.

  Unlike the second son, who languished alone at school, unless a classmate like Gregory invited him home for holidays and term breaks.

  He resurfaced from those bitter memories to find Temper gazing at him. ‘You are intelligent, grasp things quickly and have a strong sense of responsibility,’ she said, gripping his hand. ‘You will master the details you need to run the estate. You’ve already made a splendid beginning.’

  He clutched her fingers, savouring the contact, inhaling the lovely spicy scent of her. ‘I appreciate the encouragement.’ He laughed ruefully. ‘So many of the staff have been...sceptical of my abilities.’

  ‘How could they not be, when you weren’t brought up to run this place and have spent so much of your life away that they don’t really know you? Once they see what a splendid job you are doing, they will come to admire and rely on you, as they did on your father and brother.’

  ‘I certainly hope so.’

  ‘I know so,’ she said, gently withdrawing her fingers. ‘Now that you’re back, are you feeling the same attachment to Fensworth that your brother and father had?’

  ‘I never felt it as a boy—I suppose I resented too much being excluded. But it does grow on you, this sense of the land. Even more, the responsibility of knowing that how well you manage it will impact the lives of nearly a hundred souls. Though I still intend to continue my work in Parliament, I will spend much more time here in future than I have in recent years.’

  ‘As the master, you must. Now, if Randolph is so competent, why hasn’t he had the estate employ a mechanic who knows how to rebuild and maintain the steam engines? You have, what, fifteen of these pumping machines to prevent flooding and keep the fields dry and arable?’

  ‘Oh, the usual answer—money. Not enough to hire permanent staff, Randolph said when I asked him.’

  If the draining had been completed and successfully maintained, the tragedy that took his kinsmen’s lives might have been avoided. And he would be back in Parliament, listening to testimony, crafting legislation, engaged in spirited discussions about things he knew well and about which he cared passionately—rather than in this remote area near the Wash, struggling to deal with agricultural issues about which he knew so little.

  ‘Well, money will no longer be a problem, will it? I saw several pretty little cottages when I walked the perimeter of the high ground yesterday. With steady work and a nice thatched house, you might be able to lure one of the Lincoln mechanics to remain at Fensworth.’

  ‘A good suggestion,’ he said, once again grateful for the no-nonsense, practical advice she continued to dispense. ‘How wise I was to marry a rich woman.’

  She chuckled. ‘Well, at least you derived one benefit from wedding a hoyden.’

  As he looked down at her dancing eyes and lovely face, despite his fatigue, the repressed desire came flooding back. Along with an unexpectedly strong surge of tenderness.

  With his free hand, he caught hers again and brought it to his lips. ‘I’ve received more benefits than I can count. For which I am more grateful than I can express.’

  Sadness shadowed her eyes. ‘Nothing can make up for the loss of your family. Whatever assistance I can offer, you know I’m happy to give.’

  ‘And how useful it has been! Whipping the negligent housekeeper into shape, co-ordinating with the vicar to plan the funerals, organising the staff to receive condolences from the neighbours, keeping my mother supplied with doctors to tend her—even hiring your own post chaises to travel here, while I selfishly rode all the way from London.’

  ‘Burdened with such worry and grief, I couldn’t have stood being cooped up in a carriage either,’ she said.

  Although it wasn’t just grief and worry that had compelled him to ride the long miles into Lincolnshire alone. With his emotions raw—grief, frustration at having to leave Parliament with his work undone, deep misgivings about the unknown duties awaiting him at Fensworth—and his strength at a low ebb, he wasn’t sure he could have travelled for days with Temper in a closed carriage and still managed to resist his desire for her.

  Just as he now worked himself to exhaustion, to make sure temptation didn’t overwhelm him some lonely evening.

  ‘No worried frowns,’ she said, making him sigh as she smoothed her fingers along his forehead. ‘See what a very capable explorer I shall make?’

  ‘Capable indeed,’ he had to admit, stifling a pang of protest. He didn’t want her to head off for parts unknown.

  How quickly he’d grown accustomed to seeing her every day, to relying on the assistance she offered in a calm, capable manner he wouldn’t have previously believed possible for impetuous Temperance Lattimar.

  The impulsive child truly had grown into a competent manager, as well as desirable woman. And unlike his mother, who required the ministrations of various maids and dressers and a series of social engagements to keep her entertained, since their arrival, Temper had required almost no attention from him.

  She cared for herself with the minimum help from a single maid. Rather than remain indoors to be waited on by the household staff when he was gone for long hours, riding about the estate, she rode out herself in all weathers to bring him a basket of meat and ale. When he did remain at the manor, occupied with the estate books, being tutored by Randolph about seeds, planting, crop rotation and harvests, or reading about the myriad agricultural topics of which he knew so little, not once had she interrupted him, demanding that he curtail his work to devote some time to her.

  In the odd moments he’d found himself free and gone in search of her, he’d found her reading in the library. Or riding out, always with a groom he insisted accompany her—an impediment he’d worried the impatient Temper might try to evade. To which, at his apology for curtailing the speed at which he knew she preferred to ride, she’d replied simply, ‘With all you have on your plate, you don’t need to worry abou
t me falling into a canal or being thrown into the mud.’

  He didn’t have much experience with women—other than with demi-reps in the bedroom—but he guessed that such independent self-reliance was rare among females.

  He knew his mother had never exhibited a trace of it.

  The more he was with her, the more she impressed him. And the stronger grew the feeling that he didn’t want her to leave and trek about the world for months at a time, without him.

  ‘I hope you’re not meaning to desert me for some exotic place quite yet,’ he replied at last.

  ‘Of course not! I won’t leave Fensworth until you feel you have a firm handle on the duties you must perform here. Even after I return to London, it will be some time before I’m ready to travel.’ She gave him a smile that didn’t quite succeed. ‘With Prudence and her soldier having taken over the mission that was to have framed my explorations, I must first decide where—and how—I wish to travel. And then there will be all that entourage-building you’re so concerned about.’

  ‘I’ve almost finished the essentials of what I need to do for the estate. Once the last pumps are working again, nothing else requires immediate attention. The crops are in, all the repairs and supplies needed by the tenants are being addressed and the household supplies not provided locally have been ordered from Lincoln or London.’

  ‘You intend to go back to London soon, then?’ she asked, looking surprised.

  ‘Yes. In the last day or so, when I finally had enough time to think about something other than estate business, I realised that, though everyone has been addressing me as Earl, I don’t legally hold that title yet. I won’t until the Committee on Privileges reviews the documentation proving I am the legal heir and issues a writ of summons to the Lords. A process I expect will take some time. Until then, I’m plain Mr Newell and can legally remain in the House of Commons. If the summons is delayed long enough, I might actually see the factory bill to passage before I have to give up my seat and move to the Lords.’

  ‘How satisfying that would be to see it through!’ she exclaimed, looking delighted for him.

  ‘The most satisfying thought I’ve had since I read that courier’s message in London, another lifetime ago. Now,’ he said, holding open for her the side door they’d just reached, ‘I must go up and bathe before I drip mud all over the floors you just made the housekeeper polish. I think I can spare the time tonight to join you for dinner, if you’d like.’

  ‘I would like that! Besides...’ her smile faded and she looked suddenly...nervous and uncertain ‘...I, too, have something I’ve been putting off, that we really need to discuss.’

  ‘That sounds ominous,’ he said, watching her expression with concern.

  She sighed. ‘‘I know. I’ll see you at dinner.’

  * * *

  Whatever it was she wished to talk about, Temperance did not bring up anything serious at dinner. Instead, fortified by a bottle of his father’s best claret she’d had the butler bring up from the cellars, she kept him chatting with a series of questions about the myriad details he’d been learning about the estate.

  After dining, with Giff declining to remain and consume his port in solitary splendour, he accompanied Temper into the small sitting room, where a snug fire burned on the hearth.

  He poured himself a glass of spirits and joined her on the sofa.

  ‘I’ve been so busy, I’ve not had time to introduce you to the rest of the families in the county. When we return next, we’ll need to give a ball, so everyone can meet the new Countess.’

  Temper laughed and shook her head. ‘Me—a countess!’

  ‘No more incredible than me becoming the Earl. Who would have thought it?’ He sighed. ‘Certainly not my mother.’

  ‘Is she feeling any better? I’ve had the doctor summoned whenever she calls for him and send in whatever her maid says she requires, but I haven’t forced my company on her.’

  ‘I looked in on her briefly tonight.’ He gave a short laugh. ‘She even seemed...rather happy to see me, although that would be such a novel occurrence, I might just have imagined it.’

  ‘Perhaps she’s beginning to realise that, though she may have lost a son, she has another just as competent—and worthy of her love.’

  ‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ he said wryly. ‘But you have been working your magic again, haven’t you? She told me you’d suggested she might want to relocate to London, where she wouldn’t be...surrounded by so many unhappy memories. She actually asked if there would be funds to support such a move.’

  ‘I hope you assured her there would be!’

  ‘I did. Fortunately, though the estate operated with barely a profit these last few years, Father was not forced to go into debt. There are no mortgages or loans to repay, so with the infusion of my rich wife’s dowry, the Fensworth finances are finally on an even keel again.’

  ‘I could visit her and encourage her intention of going to London. Perhaps add that if she cannot master her grief, her health will certainly suffer and neither her late husband nor her beloved elder son would have wanted that. That in London, where she isn’t daily reminded of their loss, she would have a better chance to heal.’

  ‘So she wouldn’t have to see me here, in Robert’s place.’

  ‘I could tactfully remind her of that, too,’ Temper said drily.

  He laughed. ‘Temper, tactful? You may turn into a politician’s wife yet!’

  Her smile at that rejoinder was tentative and, from her suddenly tense and hesitant manner, he sensed that she was about to bring up whatever was concerning her. Tensing himself in apprehension, he waited.

  ‘It’s the matter of my becoming your wife that we need to discuss.’

  ‘Thus far, I think you’ve done a marvellous job.’

  ‘At part of it, I suppose.’ She took a deep breath. ‘With the shock of the news and the flurry of preparations to leave London, it wasn’t until the long carriage ride to Fensworth that the full implications of your changed status occurred to me. No longer a private individual, a simple politician, but the holder of an ancient title and a vast property. Which must be handed down to an heir. Since my arrival, despite all the busyness, I’ve... I’ve thought of little else.’

  Was she implying she might consider amending the terms of their marriage blanc? Tamping down a thrill of hope, he said, ‘Naturally, the estate will be handed down to an heir. I have cousins.’

  ‘Yes, but surely you would prefer to pass your inheritance down to...a son of your own.’

  He swallowed hard against a rising tide of excitement and arousal. ‘Does that mean...you are considering a change in our...intimate relationship?’

  She nodded. ‘I think I must.’

  Hands trembling, he set down his glass. ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’

  She shrugged. ‘You are responsible for the estate. As your wife, I am responsible, not just for the household, but for the succession. Try as I have to convince myself otherwise, that’s a fact.’

  With everything he desired almost within reach, Giff had to restrain himself from leaping up and dancing around the room. ‘Are you sure you’re sure?’

  She nodded.

  The fatigue of the last few weeks forgotten, Giff leaned towards her. As she angled her head up, he leaned down and kissed her.

  Slow and easy, he cautioned himself, trying to hold back the rampaging desire. She may now be willing, but she’s still an innocent maid. He shouldn’t try to sweep her straight from a single chaste kiss to complete union, probably not even in a single night.

  But the touch of her lips was so intoxicating, he had to have more. Slowly, he deepened the kiss, until, as he gently probed at her lips with his tongue, she parted them. He moved within, licking and sampling, drunk on the taste of her. And when, with a little sigh, she moved her tongue to meet his, thought was paralysed entir
ely and need seized control.

  He kissed her with ever-increasing urgency, trailing his fingertips over the satin of her bare throat, her silken shoulders, tracing the edge of her low bodice. And then he had to touch her, cup the full, voluptuous roundness of her breasts.

  One hand on her chin to hold her mouth to his, he skimmed the other down her arm and under her breast. Though she probably wore too thick a covering of chemise and stays to be able to feel the full effect, he had to rub his thumb over the nipple.

  But at the first glancing touch, she stiffened and pulled away. ‘S-sorry, Giff,’ she gasped. ‘But I—I am too tired to start anew tonight. Forgive me?’

  Though he wanted to weep and snarl with frustration, there was only one answer. ‘Of course, sweeting. It’s been a long day. Go to bed and get some rest.’

  She gave him a tremulous smile. ‘Thank you, Giff.’ Rising quickly, she practically ran out of the room.

  Chapter Twenty

  Back in the safely of her chamber, Temper closed the door and leaned against it, trembling as the panic slowly subsided.

  It was her duty to give Giff an heir. She knew that. For the past few weeks, she’d been working up the courage to act upon that knowledge. And tonight, she had fully intended to allow him to claim all the rights of a husband.

  But then he’d touched her there—and she just couldn’t.

  She stumbled over to the bed and sat on the edge. She was tired, just as she’d told Giff. Maybe tomorrow, after she’d rested, it would be easier.

  But even as she whispered those comforting words, the sense of panic, of being barely able to breathe, descended again. The dead weight of him crushing her, his harsh ragged breaths, the searing pain.