by Em Taylor
“Jason is a nice name.”
“I know of no one else named Jason. It is ridiculous.”
“Sophia means wisdom.”
“And yet here you are, lost in the snow and at my mercy.”
“Indeed. Perhaps I should have been named Imbecile.”
“That is not so pretty a name. It would not suit a beautiful woman such as you.”
Sophia did not quite know how to respond. Her body certainly did and she wanted to leap over the table, perch on his lap and find out if she could make his cock grow again. But she would not and could not do that again. It had been foolish the first time.
Jason asked about growing up in Herefordshire. She was able to talk about the Beattie estate and living on the border of Wales. They talked about friends and acquaintances in London and about the scandals of last Season. Sophia filled him in about the scandal over Lord Cindermaine, who had recently succeeded to the title of Duke of Hartsmere after marrying the fiancé of his illegitimate half-brother, having pretended to be him for most of the Christmas Season.
Dinner finished and they had tea in the drawing room. Still they chatted amicably about all manner of things and Sophia realised just how comfortable she was with this man. She was actually more comfortable with him than she had been with her husband. Lord Rutherford would drone on about some place he had been, something she had usually found very interesting, but then he would quiz her to find out if she had been listening. If she had not, he would be cross and scold her. She had always assumed it meant she was not a good wife if she did not listen carefully to what he said. And he had been a very fascinating man who’d had fascinating adventures. She was beginning to worry now that her own new adventures were putting rather a blight on what she had thought was a happy marriage.
“I think I should go to bed now. I need to check on Oscar anyway. It is not fair to leave him with Maggie all this time,” she said, giving Jason an apologetic smile.
“She seems more than happy to care for the babe.”
“Aye but he needs the milk of his mama. Not cow’s milk and bread.”
“Mayhap. I shall walk you to your room.” He rose and offered her his sleeve.
“There is no need.”
“I shall read in my room for a while then go to bed early.”
“Are you reading anything interesting?”
He chuckled. “No. Whitsnow is my dearest friend but he can be rather stuffy. His library is full of the dullest books I have ever set eyes on. So I settled on a book of sermons in the hope of making me a better man.”
“And is it working?”
“Given what happened between us this morning, I would say not.”
Heat rose in her cheeks and she nudged him slightly with her elbow. He chuckled again as he led her upstairs. When they arrived at her room, she hesitated.
Jason glanced both ways up and down the hall, then ducked his head and kissed her far to briefly on the lips.
In the candlelight, it was impossible to see the colour of his eyes, but his lids were hooded and his voice hoarse.
“Thank you for a lovely evening, Sophia.”
“Thank you, my lord. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
She turned the handle of the door and slipped inside where the maid was rocking Oscar in her arms.
Chapter 6
Oscar was crying. It had been the sound that woke him again. Jason rose immediately and put on his dressing gown and slippers. He rubbed a hand over his face, then finger combed his mussed brown hair.
He went to her bedchamber door and listened for a second. All he could hear was crying and softly spoken words, but he could not make out what Sophia was saying. He did know it was her voice.
He knocked.
“Come.”
He walked into the room and froze.
She was kneeling on the bed, babe in arms, her chemise hanging off one shoulder, with one breast uncovered as she tried to tempt her crying son to her nipple.
“I know you are overly tired, my darling, but once you feed, you shall feel better. Come on. Latch on for your mama.” She looked up and her eyes widened in alarm. “I… thought you were Maggie.”
“Uh, no. I thought he may be having pains again.” He forced his gaze from her breast up to her eyes. “I apologise, I should have announced it was me.”
Tears welled in her eyes, shining bright in the light of the solitary candle. Oscar was still howling and Sophia was still trying to urge his mouth to her nipple.
“How long have you been awake?”
She waved her free hand.
“I may have slept for an hour.”
He looked at the clock. It was nearly four o’clock.
“Has he fed at all?”
“A little.”
“Perhaps he is not hungry.”
“Jason, while I appreciate your concern, I know my own child.”
He moved then and sat on the bed.
“I know. But you are clearly exhausted. Let me hold him for a few moments. You do not even look like you are sitting comfortably.”
She sighed and handed Oscar over to him. He nestled the baby in the crook of his arm, as he had seen the maid and Sophia do. The baby grabbed at the lapel of his dressing gown and Jason jostled him up and down, in the hope of soothing him a little, as he watched Sophia clamber into bed. She had pulled the shift up to cover herself and somehow she looked even more alluring that way.
“Oscar is not crying so much now,” she noted, and he looked down at the baby who was sniffling and snuffling.
“Perhaps because you were distressed, he was feeling distressed too. In the way that a horse senses if someone is scared of it.”
“My son is not a horse, my lord.”
Jason chuckled. “I was not suggesting he was, but small children are very perceptive to the emotions of those around them, just as animals are.”
“What do you know about small children, my lord?”
“Not a lot but I do read. John Locke said a child’s mind is like a blank slate. You are putting your impressions of the world on your son.”
“Are you worried my son will grow up to be a molly, my lord?”
Jason nearly choked on his own tongue. “What does a gently bred young lady know of mollies?”
“I read.”
“You do not know about orgasms, but you know about mollies?”
“I do, but you did not answer my question.”
He grinned. “I know a few mollies whose fathers are very masculine specimens. I have no idea why a man grows up to be a molly, my lady, but it is not for lack of a male role-model.”
She looked somewhat relieved at this news. He supposed no mother really wanted her son to grow up to have proclivities that could eventually see him end up in Newgate prison… or worse. But he had told the truth when he said he knew men who were mollies. Some of them were friends and he would never tell anyone about their nocturnal habits. It was nobody’s damned business as long as everyone involved was consenting.
“He shall not be a dandy either.”
Jason smiled. “I hope not. Send him to his uncle Jason and I shall take him to Jackson’s Boxing Saloon and knock the sense into him if he ever comes home in a pair of inexpressibles.”
“Oh you have decided you wish to be a part of his life, have you?”
“I am happy to be a courtesy uncle to the lad. He seems to like me.”
“He is almost asleep. I must confess to being jealous that you have that effect on him while he just cries for me.”
“As I said, you are exhausted and distressed. He feels that. You need to get some sleep, my love. Perhaps tomorrow night we can arrange a maid to look after him, so you can get a full night of sleep. You were ill when I rescued you from the snow. You may not have fully recovered.”
She sighed. “Let me consider it. Do not push me to make a decision now.”
“Fine. Move over on the bed and I shall lay with you while you and Oscar fall asleep, then I shall go back to
my own bed once I know this tiny tyrant shall leave you in peace.”
“My lord, that is quite scandalous.”
He grinned. “It is, is it not? But you are a widow. As long as we do not flaunt it, then it is quite acceptable.”
He could tell by the way she licked her lips that she was considering it.
“I have my dressing gown covering my nakedness.”
“You do not wear a nightshirt?”
“No, now move over.”
Once she was on the far side, he placed the sleeping baby beside her and climbed into the bed, careful to make sure she saw nothing as he did so. He wanted her to feel safe and not as though he was planning to take advantage. As if he would with a baby in the bed.
He drew the curtains around the four-poster bed, just in case any servants should come in, then he snuggled under the covers, drawing her to him and making sure the baby was safe.
“My lord?”
“Mmm?” He pressed a kiss to her temple.
“I… we cannot…”
“Shh! You are just sleeping. I shall wait until you are both asleep, then put Oscar back in that beautiful cradle the servants brought from the manor house this afternoon.”
“Thank you.” She said before her lips brushed his. He could not help himself, His hand moved and held her head there so that he could devour her mouth. But she opened to him without protest and his tongue entered and swept around. She moaned, pressing her breasts towards him. Devil take it. He had to stop this before he ended up with a cockstand.
He growled his frustration as he eased out of the kiss.
“Sleep.” He nestled her head on his shoulder and she did not protest. Within minutes, the deep slow sound of her breathing told him that exhaustion had claimed her. On the other hand, he had a semi-erect cock and a jumble of questions in his mind that ensured sleep would be hard to come by for a while.
∞ ∞ ∞
He awoke to darkness but his eyes adjusted quickly. He was just able to make out the form of Sophia feeding Oscar.
She raised her finger to her lips, then pointed in the direction of the fireplace. Obviously the maid was cleaning out the hearth and setting the new fire for the day. He pressed his lips to Sophia’s bare arm. She moved her arm around him and pulled him to her. She was warm and comfortable on a cold winter’s morning. The fact a baby hung from her breast was neither here nor there. This was exactly what Jason would be happy to wake up to every morning in life.
She smelled of woman and baby and her own distinctive scent. His cockstand ached but he had no wish to use it. Or at least, while he wished to extract the baby from her breast, put him in his cradle and sink into her, he could wait until a more appropriate time. He was in no rush. Sophia needed time and he had plenty of it.
She was beginning to trust him and that was all that was required for now.
The door clicked shut as the maid left and Sophia rested back on the pillows. She ran her hand lazily down Jason’s back.
“Is anyone there?” she called out to the room. There was no answer. She lifted Oscar from her breast and shuffled out of bed. Jason immediately felt a sense of abandonment. She opened the curtains on her side and peeked out. Then she gave Oscar’s back a few rubs, walked up and down with him a few times as the lad cast up a couple of mouthfuls of milk onto a linen his mother had over her shoulder.
She placed the baby into his cradle and returned to the bed.
“You were supposed to leave once we fell asleep.”
“I must have fallen asleep too,” he said with a grimace.
“I am glad you thought to pull the curtains around.”
“I did not pull them around on my own bed. Let us hope she thinks I am out in the stables or something.”
“Oh!”
“Quite.”
“I thought you would have tried to tumble me since we are sharing a bed.”
He raised his eyebrows at this. “You sound disappointed.”
“No, not disappointed.”
“I did not think you were ready yet.”
“I thought you would want to after what happened in the stables yesterday.”
“But you reacted badly to it.”
“I… well…”
“I can wait.”
She looked unconvinced.
“Are you afraid I shall tumble a maid while I wait for the time to be right?”
“Perhaps.”
“I do not tumble the servants, my lady.”
“Some do.”
“I do not.”
She sighed. “Perhaps I just wanted to see you nude.”
He barked out a laugh. “Why? You have seen a naked man before.”
She shook her head. “No. Just statues at the museum.”
“You were married.”
“One only needs to lift one’s nightshirt and one’s wife’s nightgown to complete the deed, my lord.”
“You never saw him without his clothes on?”
“I did not need to. He said that it was crass to remove our clothing.”
“He did not want to see his beautiful young bride?”
“Apparently not.”
“Good God.”
“That is bad?”
He considered for a moment. “Not bad. A little odd, I suppose. I cannot imagine having a creature as beautiful as you in my bed and not wanting to strip you naked.”
“And yet you do not.”
“Not yet.”
“Can I see you naked?”
“Eventually, but not this morning. If I show you how hard and desperate I am for you, I shall have to do something about it. And in this bed, I shall end up going back on my word of giving you time.”
“I do not want time.”
“Yes, my love. You do.” And with that he pressed a kiss to her cheek, rolled out of bed and walked out the door before he was tempted any more.
Chapter 7
It had been a week since Jason’s nocturnal visit to her bedchamber. He had arranged for a maid to look after Oscar at night so that Sophia could get some proper rest and sleep. At first she had baulked at the notion. But her milk was still flowing and though she woke in the morning with aching breasts, after the first feed of the day, all was well. He was apparently sleeping through the night.
Jason was polite and courteous but made no further attempts to kiss her or more. Sophia reluctantly admitted to herself that she was a little disappointed in this, especially since there was little else to do, since the weather had not improved. There had been a few more snowfalls and absolutely no sign of a thaw.
She sighed wearily as she laid Oscar down for a nap, then stiffened at the sound of men’s voices and horses’ hooves outside. Her bedchamber window overlooked the stables, so she walked over slowly, making sure she would not be seen. She peeked around the heavy red velvet curtains and gasped when she saw Mr Benson and his man of business dismounting and handing the reins of their horses to the stable lad. The boy was pointing to the other side of the house, then he bowed and led the horses inside the stable.
It was midmorning. The men must have set off early to arrive here from Rutherford estate at such an hour. She hurried out of her room and stood on the balcony, out of sight of the front door and listened as the butler opened it.
“Mr Nigel Benson to see Lord Whitsnow. We went to the main house and a servant told us he was residing here for the time being.”
“Yes. I shall see if he is at home,” said Lang.
“Oh, righty-oh!” Octavius’s nephew seemed a little taken aback that he had not been invited straight in.
“No need, Lang, I am here. Mr Benson, you say? Do I know you?”
“Perhaps not. I am the nephew of the late Lord Rutherford.”
“So, the cousin of Lord Rutherford, I would presume.”
“Uh, yes, I suppose so.”
“Well I did hear that Lady Rutherford had a boy. My sister is friends with her and writes to me frequently. Far too frequently. She is never done boring
me to death with gossip from town.”
“I see. Yes, well, the thing is, Lady Rutherford and her son are missing. With you being near neighbours, I hoped you had heard from them or seen them. I am terribly worried about them.”
There was a pause and Sophia stepped towards the stairs. If Lord Whitsnow was going to tell them she was here, then she would not hide away like a coward. But a hand over her mouth smothering her protest and one around her waist stopping her forward momentum, meant that she was plastered against a strong, hard male body.
“Do not do anything idiotic, Sophia. Whitsnow has it in hand.”
“Tell me, what does she look like? I do not recall even having met the chit.”
“Blonde hair, blue eyes, normal height and weight.”
“Sort of snubby little nose? Not a real beauty.”
“Not my sort,” Benson said. “But Uncle Octavius was desperate for an heir I suppose.”
“Hmm, I may have seen her in town a few times. Mayhap on his arm,” said Whitsnow. “I suppose she is adequate in the looks department if she is the one I am thinking about. No, I have not seen her. But then, I have been holed up here for weeks.”
“Just you?”
“No, my friend Lord Rose-Reid is here. I fear he is out just now. The chap gets restless being in the house all the time.”
Sophia pulled against Jason but he held firm.
“I see. Perhaps he has seen her.”
“I doubt it. He has a penchant for blondes. I suspect he would have mentioned her had he seen her. Come, have a drink before you go on your way.” And then Jason was dragging her into his room.
Once inside, he let her go and she stomped away from him.
“Well, of all the… how very rude.”
“Whitsnow has a reputation for being an ass and quite unpleasant. As you know, he is not particularly unpleasant. He was playing his part beautifully. Had you gone downstairs huffing and puffing, exclaiming that you are indeed the most beautiful creature on God’s green earth and that you give his friend a cockstand every time he looks at you, then you would have given away his ruse. He wants Benson to think he barely remembers you and was less than impressed when he did meet you. Now Benson will think he has an ally. Whitsnow is a devious blaggard and shall get much information out of the poor hapless sod.”
