The Folly at Falconbridge Hall

by Maggi Andersen

  “God Bless,” Vanessa murmured. Hurrying down the passage, she fingered the butterfly brooch on her dress, hoping she would be able to keep her promise. She would never leave Blythe voluntarily.

  She opened the door to her new room. It was next door to Julian’s, but she had yet to see it.

  The empty bedroom was shadowy with only the bedside lamps alight. It loomed around her, elegant and airy, dominated by a tester bed covered in a burgundy silk coverlet. Vanessa had trouble drawing her eyes away. She and Julian … She spun away. Her feet sank in to the soft, ruby red Oriental rug. Deep red silk damask curtains edged with gold fringe dressed the tall windows. In the fireplace at its far end, where two chairs were drawn up in conversational mode, the logs glowed and crackled cozily in the grate, turning the embossed striped wallpaper a warm gold. Her few possessions had been brought down from the attic bedroom. Her mother’s likeness sat on the dresser, and her books had been stacked on a table by the fireplace.

  She sucked in an anxious breath at Julian’s midnight blue paisley silk robe lying over a chair. She picked it up and held it to her nose. It smelled of sandalwood. She remembered his kiss at the wedding ceremony, and her stomach clenched. His lips had been almost impersonal, and he’d hardly touched her since. It was to be expected she supposed, when they weren’t in love, although she couldn’t tamp down a wish for some sign of passion. Her nightgown and the matching peignoir were neatly arranged on the coverlet, virginal white lawn, decorated with pink satin ribbon threaded through the lace. A knock came at the door. “Come in.” She held the gown against her chest as if she was already naked.

  The maid entered. “Do you require assistance to undress or with your hair, my lady?”

  Vanessa had got this far in life without assistance. She didn’t think she would need it now. “No, thank you, Mary,” she told her new maid. “You may go to bed.”

  The door closed again.

  “My lady,” Vanessa said softly to herself. How strange that sounded. She would have to get used to Mary helping her dress, she decided. It would be unkind of her not to. To live like a viscountess seemed an enormous undertaking. She opened the door leading to the bathroom. In the bathroom mirror, her eyes looked enormous and distracted her face pale. She was used to her face and no judge if it was attractive. She brushed out her hair which couldn’t be called red, or blonde for that matter, and wasn’t particularly fashionable, and her green eyes weren’t a fascinating emerald green like Clara’s. Her woeful nose would never be heralded as a feature of great beauty. She liked her mouth though, it was generous and full-lipped, she only hoped her new husband would.

  When she came out wearing her nightgown, she found Julian waiting. He had removed his cravat and coat and sat in a chair in his shirtsleeves. “Ah. Here you are.”

  Heart thudding, Vanessa crossed the room on trembling legs.

  He approached her and took her hands. “How pretty you look,” he said, sounding surprised. “I’ve never seen you with your hair hanging down past your shoulders.”

  She couldn’t meet his gaze and fiddled with the ribbons on her nightgown.

  Leading her over to the bed, he drew her down and sat beside her. He tipped up her chin with the heel of his hand, bringing her gaze on a level with his. “I hope you will be happy and secure here in my absence.”

  Vanessa stared into the blue depths, searching for reassurance. She dragged in a breath. “I’m sure I will … .”

  He glanced down to where her breasts heaved beneath the thin lawn. “I won’t leave you carrying my child. I promise not to do that to you.”

  “You sound as if you have doubts that you’ll return.” Forgetting her own concerns completely, she searched his troubled face. Might that be what lay behind this? The thought struck cold fear in her.

  He shrugged and stood to unbutton his shirt. “It’s a dangerous undertaking. Every venture into the Amazon carries risk.”

  She had to accept it and was determined not to utter one word of complaint or pleading. A strong urge took hold of her to hold him, to soothe him and allow him to go with a clear mind, at least about those he left behind, but she wasn’t sure he’d welcome it. “We shall be all right. You mustn’t worry.”

  “Thank you for that.” He shrugged off his braces and shirt and began to undo his trousers. The smattering of dark hair on his broad chest captured Vanessa’s gaze. His trousers went the way of his shirt, and he stood in his underwear.

  She’d never seen a man in his underwear before, let alone Julian. The scrap of silk hinted at what lay beneath. Her gaze fluttered up to meet his amused one, before he bent his head to continue undressing.

  When she realized she’d stopped breathing, she took a deep breath. “I’ll pop into bed, shall I?” she gasped.

  He turned from removing his garters to look at her. A grin lightened his face. Vanessa was glad to see it. She gave a tremulous grin in response. Humor was needed for her to get through this. She threw back the covers and climbed into the bed; lying down, she squeezed her eyes shut.

  The bed moved.

  His breath fanned her cheek. “What are you doing?”

  She looked at him. His face was very close to hers. Laughter lurked in his eyes.

  “Nothing. Waiting …for you.”

  Julian pulled away the blankets that rested under her chin and gazed at her, from her high-necked nightgown down to her toes, which curled with nervous anticipation.

  His brows rose into peaks. “Whatever is the matter? I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “It’s just that Lady Forster said this is something to be endured,” Vanessa confessed.

  He gave a soft laugh. “Poor Lady Forster.”

  He began to ease up the hem of her nightgown. “What pretty legs.” When it reached her knees, she grabbed a fistful of lawn, holding it there. She felt as if a rod of iron had been adhered to her spine.

  Julian laughed again. “Vanessa, will you relax?”

  “I’m trying to, really.” Her lips trembled.

  He gave her a long look and shook his head. “What kind of a fellow am I to put you through this?”

  Had he changed his mind? She was surprised to find the thought didn’t bring relief.

  He lay down beside her. “Come here.” He slid an arm under her shoulders and drew her against him. “Let’s talk for a while, shall we?” Relieved, Vanessa laid a cautious head on his arm. “Tell me about your childhood.”

  Memories returned of wet sand scouring her bare feet, the shock of cold wavelets tugging at her ankles, and the sun warm on her back. Her limbs sank into the soft bed as she described her years in Cornwall. Her father came vividly to mind, standing at his easel, paintbrush in hand while she sketched beside him. And her mother, stalking the living room carpet with a speech in her hand and a pencil tucked into her bun. As always, she shut out the later, painful memories.

  “Your father didn’t get on with his family?”

  “No.” She’d grown used to the knowledge Julian had gained of her family. It didn’t bother her; in fact, in some way, it drew her closer to him and Blythe and made her feel part of a new family. The thought warmed her. “My uncle came to see me after Father died,” she confessed. “He invited me to live with him.”

  Julian’s eyes widened. Well, he didn’t know that, she thought smugly, yearning to touch the cleft in his chin.

  “You refused?”

  “Yes.” She flushed at the incredulity in his voice. Did he think her foolish? Impossible to explain how her formal and stiff uncle made her feel. So obviously holding out a reluctant helping hand to a poor relation. When she declined his offer, had she spied some measure of relief in his eyes, which were so like her father’s? She had never considered herself inferior to anyone until that day.

  Julian drew her closer, causing her to hope that perhaps he did understand. Vanessa liked his smell, smoky male and woody cologne. She wanted to rest her cheek on his chest to breathe it in. The thought made her smile and stretch ou
t comfortably beside him.

  Her movement stirred him. He leaned over, took her face in his hands, and kissed her, a gentle, friendly kiss she welcomed. She expected him to draw away, but the kiss lengthened. He plunged his tongue into her mouth to touch hers. Shocked, she tensed then gave into it as a tingling warmth spread through her body. Her tongue explored the contours of his mouth as her guard slipped and her shoulders sank back into the mattress.

  He looked at her, his eyes darkening to indigo. “Let’s undo this straight jacket, shall we?” he said, his tone husky.

  “I thought it lovely,” she protested.

  “You may wear it when I’m gone.” He deftly undid the buttons and slipped a hand through to stroke her breast. Finding a nipple, he rolled it gently between his fingers, unleashing a delicious sensation.

  When he began to remove her nightgown, Vanessa stilled his hand. “Perhaps you could turn down the lamp.”

  The smile returned, lifting the corners of his mouth, but his eyes looked determined. “I want to see you.”

  Before she could protest again, her nightgown slipped off. His gaze resting on her body, he threw the garment on the floor.

  She lay naked before him, flushing, wanting to pull up the covers. “You’re perfectly lovely, Vanessa.” He sounded as if he’d been handed an unexpected present.

  Julian’s obvious pleasure in her made her bolder. He kissed her again, and when Vanessa returned his kisses, they grew more urgent. Their breaths quickened, and her fingers itched to stroke his bare skin.

  Lowering his head to her breast, he took a nipple in his mouth. She sighed with delight at the wonderful sensations, stroking his dark hair with her fingers. Her nipples firmed beneath his ministrations and warmth rushed over her skin. He kneaded her breasts gently. In his hands, they grew strangely heavy.

  Their rasping breaths filled the room. He pushed away from her to remove the rest of his clothes, and she gasped at the intent in his gaze. As she watched him strip off his underwear, her stomach tightened, and she was captured by the sight of such a fine example of a naked male. Julian must need to keep himself in shape for his work, she thought distractedly, eyeing strong buttocks and thighs, she hadn’t expected to find in a tall, slim man. He returned to the bed well-defined muscles playing beneath smooth skin. She held her breath, gazing at his maleness, so potent and intoxicating. Just the sight of his erection made her hot all over and moist to the core.

  His fingers roamed up her leg and tangled in the curls at the apex of her thighs. Startled, she almost sat up. He caressed her there. As he stroked, she stilled with a strange hunger and pushed against him, a moan escaping her lips. She cast aside her qualms and surrendered to the sensations. They moved together as he caressed her, his tongue dancing with hers. She began to tremble on the brink of something elusive.

  Julian drew away from her and parted her legs with a knee, settling between her thighs.

  His heavy-lidded gaze sought hers and held. “I’ll be gentle.” His voice sounded strange, deeper, his intensity thrilling.

  Vanessa took a quick breath as he pushed into her, causing a brief flash of pain. She was so moist it made his passage easier, but the pain made her tense.

  “Relax, Vanessa,” he whispered.

  Their breaths mingled as his mouth covered hers; his hand at the nape of her neck under her hair pulled her into a deep kiss. She hardly noticed when he slipped a little farther inside her until the tightness became uncomfortable and she tried instinctively to wriggle away. He would have none of it; he cupped her bottom and pushed.

  She was distracted by his mouth, teasing and nibbling, and his smooth skin beneath her fingers. He nudged deeper inside her. The pain vanished to be replaced by something extraordinary. A primitive need somehow satisfied. As if she’d been craving it all her life. She raised her hips to move with him, enjoying the weight of his body on hers, and having him deep inside her. It was natural and right to be joined with him in this fascinating dance. Julian moved faster, and they were both gasping, coming together hip-to-hip, grasping, urgent. Her hands were in his hair then dancing across his back, seizing his strong buttocks and relishing the power of muscles moving beneath satiny skin. She murmured his name, one minute wanting to fight the desire building within her, the next begging him to sweep her along.

  When he withdrew from her to spend, she wanted to cry. She throbbed with an odd unfulfilled need.

  He leaned over her. “Was that so terrible?”

  “No.”

  “But not wonderful. Not yet.”

  “I liked it. I did really.”

  He traced her swollen bottom lip with a finger. “You liked it? I want you to love it. To cry out from the pleasure of it.”

  “You do?”

  “Mmm.” He turned his attention to her breasts, his soft fingers stoking the fire still smoldering within her like a deep ache. He pressed soft kisses against the pulse at the base of her throat and down over her stomach, making her giggle, then lower, as she seized handfuls of his hair, writhing, embarrassed.

  His tongue stroked within her intimate folds and an explosion of feeling raced through her. Her breasts tingled, and her thighs tensed. Pulling at his hair, her hips bucked under him and she moaned.

  He continued drawing her to some place she knew not. She gripped his shoulders, her nails raking his back, losing herself completely in the sensation. Embarrassment cast aside, she searched for some sense of completion that hovered tantalizingly out of reach. And then with a cry, she understood just what she had been seeking. Her body clenched as waves of pleasure took her. Julian slipped a finger inside her, and the pleasure intensified, making her call out incoherently. He lay beside her.

  “My goodness.” She fell limply back against the pillow.

  He propped his head on a hand. “You liked it?”

  “I loved it.”

  He smiled. “It will get better.”

  She gave a long sigh. “Better than that?”

  He stroked her hair away from her face and kissed her lightly. “You’ve had a big day, my sweet. Sleep now.”

  She stretched luxuriously, incapable of worrying about anything now. Endure? How wrong Lady Forster had been. Every fiber of her being felt drugged. Her eyelids seemed weighted down, and she had to close them.

  “I will for a little,” she murmured.

  Chapter Eleven

  Vanessa awoke at a knock on the door. She had slept so deeply she hadn’t noticed when Julian left the room. Mary came through the door.

  “What time is it?” Vanessa asked, yawning behind a hand.

  “Nine o’clock, my lady.” The maid placed a tray by the bed. “His lordship told me to bring you some breakfast.” She opened the curtains. Rays of bright sunlight fell across the red rug, turning it to flame.

  How could she have slept so heavily and so late? Her face heated as she recalled their lovemaking. A worrying thought tugged at her. Had Julian enjoyed it as much? Unlike her, he seemed very much in control of his emotions. Vanessa held the sheet against her naked body as she sat up. “Thank you, Mary. Pass me my gown, will you?”

  Once in her gown, she poured herself a cup of tea and buttered a piece of toast. She smoothed on a layer of marmalade and took a bite, relishing the bitter orange flavor. How decadent to be eating in bed and at this hour! Where was Julian?

  Vanessa didn’t want to ask the maid, so she ate quickly then headed for the bathroom where Mary had run her a bath. Bathing refreshed her and soothed her tender nether regions. She returned and sat in front of the mirror to brush her hair.

  A maid had thrown back the covers and was stripping the sheets from the bed. Vanessa flushed as the evidence of her and Julian’s night together went its way to the laundry maid. Impossible to keep such things from the servants. She must not mind such things, she told herself sternly.

  She couldn’t bear it any longer. As she drove pins into her scalp in her impatience, she asked, “Mary, do you know if his lordship has left for the
city?”

  “I believe he’s gone riding, my lady.”

  “With Miss Blythe?”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  She should have gone with them. They would think her a poor thing sleeping half the day. “How long ago did they leave?”

  “I saw them go out on my way to you.”

  Vanessa began to unbutton her dressing gown. “Please help me with my riding things.”

  Mary hurried to the wardrobe and took out Vanessa’s sad, pea-green skirt. She hadn’t thought to replace it. Vexed, she decided it would have to do.

  A short time later, Vanessa hurried along the path past the lawn tennis court. At least, this time she knew the route the riders would take. It would be a nice surprise for Blythe, and, she hoped, her new husband. She reached the stables where Jim polished a saddle resting it on a stall wall. There was no sign of Lovel, for which she was grateful. “Good morning, Jim, could you saddle Flora for me?”

  He performed the task quickly, and a few moments later, Vanessa rode Flora along the bridle path. Choosing the trail that led to the meadow, she urged the horse to take the left fork. Flora obeyed her with a little firm coaxing. There was no sign of them, but fresh horse dung showed they had ridden this way. The narrow track widened, and the shrubbery peeled away to reveal a wide meadow covered in cowslips. At her bidding, Flora cantered over the soft, uneven ground. Vanessa raised her head from watching for rabbit holes and saw a group of riders in the distance.

  Embracing the chance to show Julian she had become a proficient rider, she leaned over Flora’s neck, urging the horse to go faster. The ground was far less level than it looked, and it proved a bumpy ride. Vanessa slid uncomfortably about on the sidesaddle as the ground flew dizzily past. Flora stumbled over a hillock, sending a stab of unease into Vanessa’s chest. She did not feel in control. Wishing to present herself well in front of such skillful riders, she attempted to slow the horse. Flora misinterpreted Vanessa’s instruction, barely slowing before she stopped dead. Vanessa fought to keep her balance and failed. She slid, rather than fell, onto her bottom on the muddy ground, just as the others reached her.