by Em Taylor
She blinked at him.
“He did not mean it?”
“No, he did not.”
“My nose…”
“Is beautiful. Just like the rest of you.”
She rolled her eyes. “I am hardly beautiful, my lord.”
“I think you are.”
“I must get back to Oscar. What if he cries?”
“Maggie is with him. She was coming up the servant’s stairs when Benson arrived. I sent her into your room to look after him in case I had to hide you. I can get you to be silent and I can always pass Oscar off as my bastard to some hapless maid.”
Her eyes popped open at this.
“He would know.”
“No, he would not. I do hate to break the news to you but to most men, one baby looks very much like another.”
“He looks like me.”
“Only to the trained observer. But to Benson he shall be a squalling little person with very little hair, who I claim as my own.” He shrugged.
“Are you certain?”
“Very.”
“Hmm.” She considered all that he had said. She moved over to the dressing table and picked up his shaving mirror and looked at her nose. He was behind her—his front pressed to her back.
“I told you. Beautiful.” And then his lips were on her neck.
“Jason?”
“Mmm?”
“What is a cockstand?”
He pulled her bottom back so she was pressing hard against his growing length. “That is turning into one.”
“Jason,” Her voice was half-moan, half protest.
“What.”
“I…” She pulled away and scowled at him. She walked over to the bed to create as much distance as possible from him. “You confuse me. After what happened in the stables I… well I enjoyed it and then a week passes and you treat me as if I am your sister.”
He adjusted himself in his breeches and gave a wry smile.
“My thoughts are anything but fraternal, Sophia.”
“Why have you been so distant?”
“I thought you wanted distance. I thought that is what ladies needed. Time to accept what was happening. Time to adjust.”
“All I want is to be held, Jason. I… I know it sounds silly, but I liked waking up to find you in my bed. Even though we did not do anything inappropriate.”
His smile was rueful. “I suppose you miss being married.”
She frowned.
“I never woke up to Octavius. We had separate bedchambers.”
“Oh, I see.”
She sighed and sat down on the bed, inspecting her hands. “You were the first man to make me feel wanted as anything other than a brood mare. I had assumed you desired me. But it seems I was wrong. Forgive me.”
She climbed onto the bed and began to scurry over it, preferring the indignity of this escape route from his bedchamber than having to walk past him. But he was round it and blocking her exit, moving onto the bed on his knees and forcing her to pull herself up and face him.
She laid her hands on his shoulders and then his lips descended on hers. Jason collapsed them down onto mattress and pillows and Sophia went willingly. Their legs tangled as much as her skirts would allow and he half covered her with his large frame.
“Jason!”
“I am shielding you in case those blaggards search the house.”
“Do you think your body will cover all my skirts and my entire body?”
“No, but I shall tell them you are my mistress.” He started to remove the pins from her hair. “They shall not recognise you with your hair down and your lips swollen from my kisses.”
“You are a terrible man, my lord. Such a bad influence on me.”
“Is it not wonderful?” He said before pulling the final pin from her hair and lifting her slightly to run his hands through it as he kissed her again. When he laid her back on the bed, he continued to kiss her, but the intensity had gone. He seemed content just to lie atop her, their mouths parrying, their hands exploring gently. It was as if he was trying to calm her and distract her from what was happening downstairs. He made no moves to undress her, and apart from lifting her skirts enough to run his hand up and down her thigh, he did not push any further.
The snick of the door sounded like a pistol shot. Sophia curled into Jason’s chest and he wrapped his arms around her.
“Good god, am I running a brothel now?” It was Lord Whitsnow.
“Go to the Devil, Whitsnow. It is none of your business.”
“It is if it is happening under my roof. You said you had a tendre for the lady. You did not say you were tumbling her.”
Jason adjusted Sophia’s skirts and Sophia glowered as Jason climbed off her. She was all too aware of the large bulge at the front of the man’s buckskin breeches. But at least they were fully clothed.
“I was not tumbling her. And if I were, it would be none of your damned business. She is not an innocent. I am not bedding a virgin under your roof. You have had your fair share of widows and don’t deny it.”
“I do not, but I do not tumble them under my friends’ roofs when my friends are protecting them.”
“So, when you were tumbling Lady Applegate at the House party two years ago in Cheshire, that was not at your friend’s house?”
“That was different.”
“How so?”
“Gentlemen!” She had managed to put her hair back into a slightly respectable knot. They looked at her as if they had forgotten she was there. “I do not wish to know about your collective nocturnal… or not so nocturnal activities, if you do not mind. Lord Whitsnow, I do apologise for my behaviour. It was quite unbecoming of a recent widow though I am out of mourning. I shall refrain from any more such behaviour since it offends you so. Jason, I mean, Lord Rose-Reid, thank you for caring. I needed to be held and cared for and you did. Thank you. Can you tell me what happened with Mr Benson before I go back to my son?”
“They appear to be staying at the Rutherford estate. Obviously they claimed to be worried for the health and wellbeing of you and Oscar. He states he is worried that Beattie cannot be there for you because he resides between London and Herefordshire.” He stopped for a moment as Sophia made a very unladylike snort. “He says he wishes to help you run the estate until the boy is old enough.”
“And you believe him?”
Her ire was rising.
Whitsnow took a defensive step back and raised his hands is a gesture of surrender. “I did not say that I believed him, my lady. I simply stated what he told me.” But Sophia was now in high dudgeon. How dare he take Benson’s side?
“Do you think I would flee in the snow, with just a horse, a bag and my son if I was not desperate, my lord? Do you have any idea what could have happened to me? I could have been set upon by thieves and vagabonds. I could have been ravished or murdered. I did not even have a maid for respectability.”
The corner of Whitsnow’s mouth quirked and he coughed to cover his laugh. “I am aware of the dangers of travelling alone for a lady in this day and age, ma’am.”
“Yet you are struggling not to laugh at my situation. Men! You are all the same. You think because we are weak in body we are also weak in the mind. I know what Benson wants. And it is not to help run the Rutherford estate, my lord.”
“I am well aware of that, my lady. I am also aware that the law does not permit him to be Lord Rutherford’s guardian as the heir presumptive. That is why Beattie is his guardian. He does wish you harm. He was delighted that I told him I would let him know if his runaway step-aunt turned up, so he could bring her to heel. He thinks I am his ally now. That is what you want.”
“What do I do now?”
“You either hope that he does not come back to continue our new friendship, which I hope he does not and stay here, or you do what Reid here suggested and go with him to Yorkshire—assuming you trust yourselves with each other.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean,” said Jason, speaki
ng for the first time in a while.
“Are you sure you shall not ravish her in the carriage?”
“If I do, it shall be with her consent, Whitsnow.”
Whitsnow raised an eyebrow and shrugged before turning. As he left, he spoke softly but Sophia was sure she heard him say “Good God, I am sure I hear the jangle of a leg-shackle.”
Chapter 8
Jason was annoyed to say the least. He had plans for this trip and none of them had involved a damned maid. He had tried to have her put in his own carriage along with his valet but both Sophia and Whitsnow had decided she must, for the sake of propriety, ride in his carriage with Sophia and the baby.
He supposed he was being childish. But honestly, he’d had a cockstand for days over the woman and he had thought once alone he could do something about it. Apparently not. She had been quiet since they had been caught in his bedchamber two days ago and though a couple of times he had tried to kiss her, she had shrunk away.
Travel was slow as the snow was still lying on the road and it was icy in places. The driver did not want to push the horses, which Jason was happy with. Better a slow journey than a dead horse or two… or worse.
Darkness was beginning to fall and he knew they would be pulling into an inn for the evening soon. Oscar had been fractious most of the day and Sophia had been fussing over him. Jason felt pretty fractious himself.
Soon they pulled into an inn and Jason went in to organise rooms. Luckily, although it was a small inn, they had two rooms with an adjoining door. He paid for them under the name Mr and Mrs Reid and then went outside to collect his charges. He led Sophia and Maggie to her room, then headed to the taproom for some refreshment and much needed male company.
An hour later, he felt much better. He went back upstairs and into his room. Next door was quiet and he supposed Sophia was reading. Oscar must be sleeping at last. He tapped on the door separating their rooms and he thought she said come in. He opened the door and froze. She was in a hip bath, running a linen over her breasts. She gasped and tried to cover herself but he just stood there.
“You said to come in.”
“I said, ‘Do not come in.’”
“Ah! I must have misheard.” But he could not make his body move back through the door. Nor could he drag his eyes away.
“My lord!” she said. But nothing was registering. There was a sort of buzzing in his head as his eyes skated down her body, to her slightly rounded belly with the red angry marks at the side of it. What caused them? He could just see a little of the hair that covered her mound and his cock jerked at the thought of the treasure that lay between her closed legs. “Jason!”
“Hmm?” He looked into her shining blue eyes. “You are beautiful, Sophia.”
Her mouth dropped open slightly at that. She shook her head. “How can you say that? My stomach is larger than it was before I had Oscar and these marks appeared while I was increasing. Mayhap once the weather gets better I can walk more and lose the weight on this belly.”
“You need not change anything, my love. Come, I shall help you dry off and dress for dinner. Where is your maid?”
“She is looking after Oscar. He is fractious again.”
“Oh dear.”
She sighed. “I told her I would be fine.”
“I am sure you would be but please allow me to help.”
She bit her lip and he felt himself harden even more at the seductive look on her face.
“My Lord, I do not want…”
“I am not offering to tumble you, my lady.” She looked sceptically at him and he realised that her gaze was directed at the placket of his breeches. He chuckled. “I said I was not offering, Sophia. Not that I did not want to. But I am not an animal. Wanting and doing are two different things.”
He helped her to her feet and started to dry her back with a linen. Then he offered her the linen to dry her front. It was far too intimate for him to do it. He may wish to do it but he could not put either of them in that situation. If she was to trust him, He had to be very careful. Whitsnow’s comment about a skittish horse still repeated in his mind as if it was a line in a play that he went to see every night.
As he knelt and dried her feet, he was all too aware how precariously close his head was to her intimate area and how desperate he was to taste her. Once finished, he sat back on his heels and looked up at her.
“Just being so close to tasting you is driving me insane.”
“Tasting me?” She gave him a look as if she thought he might be fit for bedlam, then reached for her shift. Good God, had the old fellow never used his mouth on her? Jason was beginning to wonder if the man was a molly and had just used Sophia as a brood mare. It was quite common really. He could not imagine being with a woman and not wanting to ensure her pleasure. It heightened one’s own pleasure.
She stepped into her gown and turned for him to lace up the back. He had noticed she never wore stays, but then they would hamper her feeding Oscar.
“How long will you continue to feed Oscar for?” He asked, in order to make conversation.
“We have moved him onto pap at night and will give him pap when he is hungry during the day, once we are settled at your house. For now it is easier for me to feed him while we travel. But soon he can get more pap and just a morning and evening feed from me. That should free me up a little. I would have had a wet nurse but I knew Mr Benson would come after us so I thought feeding him myself was the better option.”
“I think it was very wise.”
“It is deuced uncomfortable though.”
“Breastfeeding?”
“Aye.”
“How so?”
“Well I shall tug at your nipples for four hours a day, sometimes more, and see how comfortable you are, my lord.” Jason grimaced.
“Thank you, my lady. You have made your point well.”
“Plus I cannot even support my breasts in stays at present and they get very heavy and full with milk.”
“I am happy to support them in my hands, my lady.” She scowled at him.
“I am sure you would be, my lord, but that is hardly the point.”
“No, it is not. I apologise for my crudeness. There is no excuse. Now that I have been terribly ungentlemanly, please let me make amends, dinner will be served in a private parlour in one hour. I shall come and collect you for it. If you wish me to leave so you can put on the rest of your clothes and do your hair, I shall do so and get ready for dinner myself. My poor valet will be sending me to the devil if he has to shave me in too much of a hurry.”
“I should hate to upset your valet. Go. I believe Maggie will be back soon.”
He could not leave things as they were so he lowered his head and pressed a delicate kiss to her lips, then left through the connecting door.
∞ ∞ ∞
The next day was very much like the first. Slow progress, a crying, fractious baby and stifled conversation.
Sophia was relieved when Jason handed her down from the carriage, but her heart sank when she saw the look on his face.
“I apologise for this, but they only had one room left. The next inn is five miles away. It is nearly dark. Ordinarily I would perhaps take the chance in the dark, but with the ice and snow, I cannot risk all our lives. Please Sophia, I beg you to understand.”
She sighed. “My lord, When I married for duty and not love, do you think I did it because I was not a practical person?”
“Uh!” He looked confused.
“I am a terribly practical person. Too practical. Of course we should not continue on. I cannot take the chance of harming any of us or the horses by driving to the next inn just to get two rooms, which they may not have either. We shall be fine.”
“I would say ‘if you are sure’ but I am not for driving on just to protect your sensibilities. I prefer to protect your body and make sure we all come to no harm.”
“I prefer it that way too. We have shared a bed before.”
“Indeed.”
They walked into the inn and Jason led her upstairs. “Have you secured a private parlour for dinner?”
“Unfortunately not. I requested dinner in our room. Is that acceptable? There are no spare private parlours.”
“That is fine. I am no stranger to inns and having to make do. My husband’s estate was in Cumberland for four years. It is a long journey between Cumberland and Town. I am well used to travelling and inns, Jason.”
“I do love a lady who is pragmatic and resourceful. Would you like me to order you a bath?”
“I do not need one but feel free to order one for yourself.”
“You would sit here while I bathed?”
“You saw me naked yesterday. It seems only fair. Besides, I would read a book.”
“Would you?”
“I would.”
“Hmm, well perhaps I shall order one. Only for the sake of equity of course.”
“Of course.”
“Within half an hour, a hip bath of hot water was in front of the fire. Sophia retreated to the window seat with her book, trying her best not to peek over it at the man stripping just a couple of yards away. As his bare back came into view, she had to stifle the groan that wanted to escape from her lips. She could see the rippling muscles underneath his skin and sense the leashed tension in his back and shoulders. He circled his shoulders and moved his neck from side to side. He had already removed his boots and leaned over to untie the ribbons holding up his woollen stockings. First one, then the other revealed strong, shapely calves. He reached for the buttons of his breeches and she held her breath until he turned around and grinned.
“Good book?”
Heat burst like fireworks at Vauxhall Gardens on her cheeks and she looked down at the words she had not yet even contemplated. “Wonderful,” she muttered, but knew fine, he knew she had been gawping at him.
When she chanced another look, he was sticking one foot into the bath, his tight white backside rippling with the movement, two little dimples at the top of it calling out to her. Was it wrong that she wished to bite his bottom? She had never wished to bite her husband’s bottom. But then, she had never even seen the man naked. She had now seen more of Jason than she had of Octavius.
