Jasper couldn’t keep silent any longer. ‘It wasn’t your fault. You were an innocent. The wrong was all his.’
She held up her hand for him to be silent, and though it took an immense effort, he closed his mouth on the comfort he longed to give her.
‘Then one day I got caught out in a storm and ran for shelter to the summer house. Though why, I shall never know. He said it was because I knew he was there, that I wanted him to see me in clothes so wet they were transparent, that I was a tease.’ She shook her head, clearly still bewildered by her clever abuser’s arguments.
‘How could I have known he was there? I thought he was with Gerard, but then, why didn’t I just go home? I couldn’t have got any wetter.’ Her shoulders drooped.
‘Anyway, we were both there, and the rain was pounding on the roof, and I was shivering with cold. And he had some brandy. He’d been drinking it himself. I tasted it on his breath. And he was so strong. Far stronger than me. I couldn’t do a thing to stop him.’
Jasper knelt in appalled silence, the only thing keeping him from crying out in anguish the memory that Dr. Fothergill had pronounced her a virgin. Whatever Lionel had done, whatever he was about to hear, he could at least be certain the cur had not fully raped her.
‘He poured brandy down my throat till I thought I would drown in it. Then he pinned me to the floor, and described all the ways a man’s body differs from a woman’s, and all the ways a man can get pleasure from a woman’s body although only one of them results in a woman having a baby. It seemed to go on for hours. And all the time he had his mouth to my ear, pouring his filthy words into my head, he was…’ She shuddered. ‘But at last, he got his pleasure, and he rolled off me. I staggered outside and was sick into the rhododendrons. He stood behind me, laughing while he did up his breeches. He said there was no point in telling anyone what had just happened, because there was no physical proof. It would be my word against his, just as it always was. Besides, it had been a week since he’d spent the night in my bed, and I hadn’t complained then. And I reeked of brandy. He would say I was drunk, and egged him on, that he couldn’t resist me. I ran back to the house with his taunts ringing in my ears. He was right. I couldn’t tell anyone. I was as much to blame as he was. Besides, Aunt Susan was pregnant with Jenny at the time, and I didn’t want to upset her.’
Jasper groaned. She would bear anything rather than distress anyone else. So she had needlessly borne the guilt of this horrific assault all these years.
‘I was too scared to sleep in my room that night in case he came in and actually did any of the things he’d told me men like to do to women.’ Her voice was strident now, as though she was forcing herself to come to yet another sticking point. How much more could there be? Jasper bowed his head, bracing himself for the worst.
‘I took my quilt, and crept up to the attics to hide, and I burnt the dress he’d soiled in the grate. While it burnt, I prayed like I’d never prayed before that something would happen to stop him ever coming back to The Holme again. And it did. Gerard died.’ She choked on a hysterical little sob. ‘I…I killed him, Jasper. I prayed to the fire, and fire took Gerard. I…I am not the sort of woman any man should marry, especially not one like you. There is something evil in me…’ she pressed her hands to her stomach ‘…something dark and destructive.’
He could not take any more. He gripped her shoulders and shook her. ‘That’s nonsense. Do you hear me? Nonsense. First of all, it was Lionel who assaulted you. And secondly, the fact Gerard died as he did was just a coincidence.’
He wasn’t getting through to her. Her eyes were dark with horror in her pinched, white face. He reached inside himself.
‘Listen to me. When my brother died, I felt that darkness that you have just described, inside me. Guilt that I was still alive, when he was dead.’
Her eyes turned towards his face at last, though they were still glazed with grief and guilt.
Ruthlessly he hauled her to her feet. ‘And if you think for one minute that I am going to let you jilt me, because of something that happened six or seven years ago, you are very much mistaken. No Challinor has ever been jilted, and I am not about to be the first.’
‘J…jilted?’ Hester looked stricken. ‘I’m not jilting you. Don’t you see? I’m trying to spare you.’
‘And how would making me look ridiculous spare me anything, you little fool?’
‘At least you won’t be married to a woman whose reputation is in tatters.’
‘I won’t be. Don’t you think me capable of crushing a worm like Snelgrove? You should have just come and told me of this attempt at blackmail.’
She shook her head, closing her eyes. ‘I couldn’t. I never wanted to have to repeat any of this to anyone, least of all you. How you must despise me.’
‘Despise you?’
Abruptly he let go of her shoulders. She thought he was angry with her. No wonder. He had been shouting, shaking her. ‘I do not despise you.’ He spoke through clenched teeth, keeping his tone as moderate as he could.
‘But now you know,’ she persisted, ‘I’ve been living a lie for years. I am soiled, Jasper.’
He turned away and vented some of the fury at what Snelgrove had done to her by slashing at the bushes with his riding crop. Was there nothing he could do to root out the canker that the man had planted in her soul? She couldn’t even bear to let him touch her any more.
Hearing the noise of skirts rustling, he turned to see Hester untying her bag from Nero’s saddle.
‘What do you think you are doing?’
‘I’m going home. It’s obvious you cannot marry me now you know it all.’
‘Not to me it isn’t.’ He snatched the bag from her hand and tied it back to the pommel. ‘Anyway, what good would it do to go back to your uncle? He won’t be able to protect you. How long do you think it will be before Snelgrove makes another attempt on you? Do you want to fall into his hands like a ripe plum? For make no mistake, if you do not marry me, he will go after your inheritance again. Make your mind up, Hester. A lifetime running from Snelgrove, or a lifetime secure with me.’
‘No, it wouldn’t be like that.’ She pressed her hand to her forehead. ‘I can’t think…’
‘Then I will make the choice for you. You are not going to make a fool of me and make yourself miserable. You are marrying me and that’s final.’
Mounting Nero, he yanked Hester up on to the saddle in front of him again.
‘In fact, we are going to get married in the first church we come across today. I have been carrying a special licence about in my pocket since the day that damn fool doctor threatened to lock you away. Not he, nor Snelgrove, nor your own desire for martyrdom are going to stop this wedding going ahead.’
Hester quailed at his anger. He had only decided to marry her in the first place because Lionel had thrown them together, and now he felt obliged to carry it through rather than face the ridicule of being jilted. Or expose her to ridicule by crying off.
He was saving her from disgrace yet again. She wrapped her arms about his waist and buried her head in the crook of his shoulder. While he had to concentrate on picking a way through the dense undergrowth to get back to the road, he couldn’t shake her off, no matter how disgusted with her he was.
Hester was amazed at how much money it took to push a clandestine wedding ceremony through. The vicar’s scruples against runaway matches had to be overcome, witnesses had to be bought. She had never seen so much cash change hands on such a nefarious pretext.
* * *
It was well into the afternoon when she found herself being hauled out of the dank little church where Jasper had growled, and she had whispered, vows.
‘That’s it then.’ He stopped in the lych gate and turned her roughly to face him. ‘Legally you are my wife now. You can forget all your silly notions of running away and hiding from Snelgrove, and others like him, for the rest of your life, do you hear?’ He grasped her chin in his hand and forced her face u
p. ‘You don’t have to fight your own battles any more. It is my duty to protect you.’
Tears filled Hester’s eyes, though she tried to blink them away. He was furious that she had got him into this mess, but he would always do his duty by her. He would defend her. Supply every material need. But now he knew the worst of her, he would never respect her.
Jasper swore and let her go. No wonder she was crying. She had never wanted to marry anyone. And now he knew why. That devil had poisoned her mind, making her shiver with revulsion every time a man touched her.
He let go of her chin and drew back. ‘We can’t go back to London till morning,’ he said, leading her back to the yew tree where Nero was tethered. ‘We must spend the night at an out-of-way inn I happen to know of.’ He boosted her into the saddle and mounted up behind.
‘People are used to seeing us riding early in the park. Stephen will meet us there with Strawberry, and we will all simply ride up Brook Street as we have done so many times before.’
* * *
It was dark by the time they dismounted outside a ramshackle building. Hester was grateful when Jasper put his arm round her waist as they went in. This was so obviously the sort of low place men frequented in pursuit of illicit pleasure that Hester felt just as ashamed as if she was the sort of woman the smirking landlord assumed, rather than a legally married wife.
She felt slightly sick that this was the place Jasper had chosen to consummate their ill-fated union. But it was in keeping with all that had gone before. Everything about their relationship was second best. She was not at all the type of woman he had gone to The Holme seeking, and now he felt he had to go to extreme lengths to make sure she could not run away from him again.
Silent tears slid down her cheeks as the landlord led them up a rickety staircase to their rooms. It was not going to be pleasant to face the ordeal she had always dreaded while Jasper was so angry. She knew it would hurt. Lionel had told her that if he had taken her in the summer house, when she was still a girl and he a fully grown man, they would hear her screams in Beckforth square.
Hester blinked at the surprisingly clean little sitting room, at the table with supper laid out for two, and her stomach roiled. The landlord retreated and Jasper strode across to the door that led to the bedroom. Casually he tossed her bag on to the double bed, and stripped off his coat. Her mouth went dry.
‘Have you eaten anything today?’ he asked, strolling towards the supper table as if this was all perfectly commonplace. It probably was to him. He’d probably had dozens of secret assignations.
‘You should try to eat something.’ He took a bread roll from the dish and tore it in two with his great, strong hands.
‘I can’t.’ Hester shut her eyes, waves of nausea drenching her with sweat. She felt Jasper catch her as she swayed on her feet, pulling her into his chest and holding her tight. She could hear his heart thundering beneath his waistcoat. Or was it hers?
He untied the ribbon to her bonnet, reaching up to draw out the hat pin that secured it in place. ‘I’ll take this, I think,’ he said, pocketing the hat pin and tossing the bonnet on to a chest of drawers.
She looked at the grim set of his face. ‘I won’t fight you, Jasper,’ she vowed, as much to herself as to him. She had so little to offer him that she would not deny him the heirs that were the sole reason he had decided to marry at all.
‘I’m not taking any chances.’ He began to unbutton her coat. ‘I’ve seen you in action, don’t forget.’
‘But I’m your wife now. It is your right.’
‘You are shaking from head to toe, Hester. You don’t know whether to make a bid for freedom or a last-ditch attempt to protect your virtue.’ His mouth twisted with scorn as he tugged her coat down her arms. ‘I’ve cornered you, trapped you, and you want to lash out at me. You haven’t understood yet that I’m nothing like Snelgrove. That I will never hurt or humiliate you.’
‘Yes, I have,’ she protested. ‘Else I couldn’t have fallen in love with you. I can’t help being afraid. I don’t want to be afraid with you. It’s just that…’
Her eyes flashed with determination. Her hands went to the buttons at the neck of her gown. ‘Never mind supper—I think we should just get on with it!’
As Jasper’s eyes widened, her fingers managed to fumble about three buttons open.
‘No.’ He seized her wrists and halted her attempt to undress for him. ‘It’s not going to be like that. I’m your husband, not a rapist. Do you think I want to just take and give nothing in return?’
Hester was utterly bewildered by his reaction.
‘Oh, God, Hester,’ he breathed, pulling her into his arms. ‘You think you know so much, but you know so little, and what you do know is warped.’
As he rocked her, stroking her hair, he felt her trembling gradually subside. When her arms slid tentatively round his waist, he sighed with relief. This was working. She needed plenty of reassurance. He would need a great deal of patience, but he was determined to teach her that a man need not defile a woman in order to get his own pleasure.
There was a knock on the door, and a couple of chambermaids came in with all the paraphernalia required for a bath.
‘You have been shivering on and off ever since I got you off the coach,’ he murmured into her hair. ‘I ordered the bath for you. I thought it would help you get warm, and relaxed.’
‘That was thoughtful of you, Jasper.’ She looked up at him sadly. ‘But I don’t think I will feel relaxed being undressed and knowing you are in the next room.’
‘I won’t be in the next room.’ It had suddenly dawned on him that there could be no better way to teach her that a man’s touch could be gentle, than to bathe her. He would handle every last square inch of her, and when he’d finished she would feel both cleansed, and cherished. ‘I will be with you every step of the way.’
She stiffened. ‘You can’t mean to watch me?’ Her eyes widened and a flush spread from her cheeks right down her neck. Jasper followed its progress with his fingers, opening the buttons that obstructed his view.
‘Not just watch…’ His mouth followed his fingers, planting gentle kisses in the cleft between her breasts as the dress fell open. He cradled her head to his shoulder as the dress fell to the floor. ‘Don’t be afraid of me.’ His hand ran up and down her spine, stroking, soothing.
‘I…I’m not afraid.’ She wasn’t lying. Her fears had dissipated the moment he’d pulled her into his arms. She couldn’t be afraid of anything when he held her like that, not even his masculine desires. And at the first tentative brush of his knuckle against her breast, the blood had begun to run hot through her veins.
And when he’d kissed her—she had no words to describe what that felt like. On the two occasions he had kissed her mouth, she had found it pleasant. But to feel his mouth on her body…
Now Jasper was kneeling at her feet, unlacing her boots. When he raised her foot to tug the first one off, she almost overbalanced. He looked up, grinning when she hopped in a most ungainly fashion towards a chair, his hand still grasping her ankle.
‘Give me your other foot,’ he ordered, and she found herself bracing her bare foot against his shoulder while he tugged off the second boot. When she would have lowered her foot to the floor, he caught it, kissing the instep before sliding his hands up her raised leg to remove her stocking. It was just as well she was already sitting down.
‘Now your petticoats,’ he said eventually.
‘No.’ Somehow she found the willpower to force her boneless legs to take her weight. Tottering towards the bath, she said, ‘I’ll manage now, thank you.’
She couldn’t just sit there and let him strip her naked. As soon as she was out of his sight, she tore off the rest of her underclothes. She had hardly sat down in the warm, rose-scented water, when Jasper approached, rolling up his shirt sleeves. He had already removed his waistcoat and cravat.
Feeling she would die of self-consciousness, she hugged her knees to her chest.
‘If I had any compassion for your shyness, I would give you some privacy, is that what you are thinking?’ He knelt down beside the tub.
She nodded, her eyes watching him warily as he picked up the cake of soap.
‘Well, I don’t.’ He dipped his hands into the water behind her, and began to work up a lather. ‘You need to learn…’ His voice trailed away as their eyes met, and held. He couldn’t remember what he had been about to say. He just needed to get his hands on her.
She couldn’t believe how gentle his hands were on her back. He massaged the bunched muscles at her shoulders and neck first, sweeping the length of her spine with firm, sure strokes. Was this what a cat felt like when stroked? She certainly wanted to arch into his caress. And purr.
Shame engulfed her when his warm breath feathered down behind her knees, and her nipples contracted in a painfully pleasurable response. She wasn’t supposed to feel like this. She was completely naked, completely at his mercy, and she ought to be afraid, repelled.
With a groan, she hid her face in her knees. He took her right hand, peeling her arm from round her knees, slowly running his freshly soaped hand the full length of it. When he got to her fingers, he soaped between them, interlacing his own fingers with hers, and drawing her hand to rest on the rim of the tub. Then he reached for her left arm.
She kept her knees tucked up to her chin while he methodically washed her, raising her face to watch him when he moved to the foot of the bath. He was kneeling facing her as he reached below the water line and gently grasped her foot. She gripped the edges of the bath tightly as he drew it out of the water, knowing her left breast would be exposed to his gaze as he extended her leg.
She couldn’t take her eyes off his face, as he worked soapy fingers over and in between every single toe before rubbing the arch of her foot with his thumbs. He looked totally absorbed in what he was doing, concentrating his dark gaze on whichever part of her leg he was caressing, kneading, learning. She slid lower in the water as his hands worked their way inexorably higher, tensing as his knuckles brushed the place where she most feared a man’s touch.
His Cinderella Bride Page 25
