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The Rake Enraptured

Page 17

by Amelia Hart


  Finally the vicar was done, and raised them up, beaming happily.

  "If you'll just come this way, the register must be signed. Just here. Just here, yes." Julia's hand was steady as she signed without blot or spatter of ink. She watched Colin form his own name in loops and sharp slashes, a dynamic shape much larger than her own, engulfing the line below his space. "Lovely. Very good. And you too, Mr Carstairs, of course." It had been an unhappy moment when she told the couple she had no one to stand for her or give her away. She could not ask them for the money to send for Grandmere, and other than her there was no one. They had stepped forward without hesitation, and the kindness of their acceptance was warming even as it made her squirm within. She felt almost ashamed of her marriage, of how everyone must pity her for such foolishness. Even as much as she had despised Colin once, she knew she now shared the name and some part of the reputation. It was not something she could hide from, but there, she had resolved to take this course. There was no point dwelling on what was to come.

  There would be all too many tomorrows for regret. Now was the moment for whatever happiness she could take.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  "Are we not taking a carriage?"

  "Would you prefer it?" He turned to her with his eyebrows raised, gloved fingers still on the latch of his horse's box. "We can if you'd like, but I have something else in mind."

  "What is that?"

  "A ride over the fields to the cottage I have rented, with you up before me."

  "Won't that be uncomfortable? And we can't carry much baggage that way."

  He laughed and pulled her close to him, tucked under his chin. She came willingly, though it felt very odd to hold a man like that, even here in the warm privacy of the stables where there was no one to see but the horses.

  "Very practical," he said, and kissed the top of her head. "It is only I have this fantasy, built on a certain memory, of a woman who has promised to wed me, carried away on my horse until we find a quiet place with a soft bed and no one to trouble us. No need for baggage because it is already there. No servants to interrupt us. Only she and I to discover each other. But if you prefer you may ride in a carriage. I'm sure the Carstairs will lend us one if we ask."

  "Oh. When you put it like that . . . Our baggage is already there?"

  "My valet took it personally."

  "Your valet? I didn't realize you had one with you."

  "I left him at the inn. You don't imagine I can maneuver myself into such finery as I am wearing today?"

  "It is very tight." She smoothed a hand over the superfine coat he had worn to their wedding, now concealed beneath his greatcoat, and smiled a secret smile to be permitted to touch him like this. Not quite proper of course, in a public place, but no longer a scandal. They were married. He was hers. "You looked wonderful."

  "A compliment, is it? You must be careful, or I shall be overcome." She leaned her forehead against his chest, and he squeezed her gently. "Would you prefer I ask for a carriage?"

  "No. I like the sound of the horse," she said dreamily.

  In an instant he had stepped away and opened the box of his tall bay mare. "I'll be with you directly."

  "Shouldn't you change first?"

  "That would take too long."

  "Or let a groom saddle the horse?"

  "That would also take too long."

  She gurgled in amusement, and admired the swift way he went about his task. "You do that very fast."

  "I should think so. Half asleep, in the dark and blindfolded. That's a cavalry man for you. There we are."

  She stepped back from the entrance so he could lead the horse out past her into the courtyard. "She's very beautiful."

  He mounted in a swift, lithe motion that delighted her with its grace. "She's my pride. Give me your hand." She put up her right hand and he leaned down to grasp it firmly. "Now put your foot on my boot and step up."

  "I'll marr the polish," she said, eying the mirror shine on his Hessians.

  "That is why I keep a valet. Now, will you step up or must I dismount and throw you up there, wife?"

  "No, husband. I will come." She looked at him under her eyelashes, demurely, and saw his eyes narrow in satisfaction at the exchange of terms.

  She gave a small boost but it was mostly his strength that lifted and turned her as she came, and tucked her comfortably into his lap, his arm tight around her waist. He took a moment to arrange the bulk of their clothing to his satisfaction, and she felt herself come to rest more closely against his chest, between the lapels of his greatcoat.

  "Comfortable? Warm enough?" he asked.

  "Very tolerable," she said with another secret smile, and a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. Her smile faded as she thought ahead to their destination. Alone, the two of them. Truly alone, with all restrictions removed. It was so new and strange, wonderful and terrifying. "Where is everyone? I thought they would want to see us off."

  "I think they are leaving us alone for a moment. Mrs Carstairs told me to come around to the front of the house before we depart."

  "How very thoughtful." It had been a madhouse since they returned from the marriage ceremony, with the children set free from the schoolroom and running wild through the dining room, pilfering treats from the table laid for the wedding luncheon, shrieking and laughing. Their parents looked on indulgently and laughed along with them, but Julia had longed for peace in the midst of her nervous tension.

  The older children - Harry who was almost fifteen, Anne at thirteen, Emma twelve and Richard eleven, had watched Julia and Colin with great interest and whispered amongst themselves. The girls thought them very romantic, and sighed after handsome Mr Holbrook.

  All the attention was oppressive for Julia, but Mrs Carstairs had no doubt noticed the stiffness in her bearing and in her calm way directed her headstrong family to give them peace as they readied for departure. Such a kind woman.

  Would Julia be so calm in the midst of such a tempest of little ones? Would she have a chance to find out? She did not know whether to hope or fear children would come soon. It was too much to consider in this moment.

  Colin clicked softly to his horse and the animal swiveled her ears and stepped out willingly, unhampered by her double burden. As they came around the side of the house Julia saw Mr Carstairs had the children building snow men on the front lawn, bundled up against the cold.

  "There they are! Miss Preston! Mr Holbrook!"

  "They are Mr and Mrs Holbrook now, Richard."

  "Mrs Holbrook. That sounds so strange."

  "Will we see you soon, Mrs Holbrook?"

  "Will you come back to see us?"

  Julia looked to the Carstairs for guidance, not assuming they would choose to mix with her and her new husband on a social level. But Mrs Carstairs did not disappoint. "We shall certainly invite them, Emma, and we hope they will come often to visit us. Do you know where you will settle?" She directed the last to Julia and Colin. Julia waited to hear what he would say.

  "I expect we'll tour the various estates and Mrs Holbrook will choose one she likes. Or perhaps the London house. My family seat has traditionally been at Mowbray in Dorset, but with no one left but myself, the ties are not what they were. Mrs Holbrook may choose."

  "Well, Mrs Holbrook, you cannot ask for a more congenial husband than that," said Mrs Carstairs, but though she smiled obligingly at them both Julia thought she was still unconvinced by Mr Holbrook's charm.

  It should be heartwarming to have such a staunch ally, but in this moment Julia would have preferred to forget her doubts and pretend everything was exactly as it should be between her and her new husband. She fixed a determined smile on her own face. "I'm sure we shall visit as often as we are invited, and you must certainly come and see us if we are all in the City together."

  "Absolutely. Say good bye, children, and congratulations."

  "Goodbye! Congratulations!" came the chorus, and there were more smiles and waves and little Beth was passed
up for a kiss and a cuddle when she would not stop crying to see her Pressie go. Julia felt the small arms close around her neck and fought back tears. This family had made her so welcome in their absentmindedly genial way, it was a hard thing to leave that familiarity.

  "Do you want to climb down and embrace them all?" asked Colin quietly in her ear.

  "Best not to, or I'll turn into a watering pot. Let us go or I shall lose my composure."

  "We can't have that," he said with a joking tone, but he nudged his horse gently with his heels and they were in motion, with the Carstairs family's well wishes, hoots and calls audible for a long way down the snow-lined carriageway.

  Julia leaned out and waved past the bulk of Colin's body several times, trusting to him to hold her steady. "I'm sad to leave them."

  "They do seem very congenial. Better than the Trents, I think."

  "Yes. I'm sorry to say it, for I know the Trents are your friends, but I did not enjoy that position as much as I might have wished."

  "Fortunate you were forced to leave, then?"

  "I would not go that far," she said a little acidly.

  "No. Of course not. I will say again I am sorry."

  "As if you would change an instant of your behavior those weeks. I hardly think it likely, you are so incorrigible."

  "I was unsteadied by your presence."

  "You are unsteady by nature."

  "You shall teach me to be better."

  "It is a task altogether too great for my poor skills at management."

  "With your superior intellect you will learn swiftly."

  "You give me too much credit."

  "Not enough, dear one. Never enough."

  What was she to do, when he charmed her so? How could she resist him, resist falling ever further into helpless love with him? It was not possible to know him and keep her distance, keep herself safe. And she was determined not to spoil what they would have together, for as long as he was like this with her.

  He became serious. "I will say I did feel outside of my own control when I first met you, first came to know you. Yet I do regret you were discomfited. It must have been frightening to lose your position."

  "Yes. Though I was also very angry. I could have happily dismembered you for your part in it."

  "Very bloodthirsty."

  "Yes. Better remember it if you think to annoy me again."

  "I shall live in fear."

  "See that you do."

  He chuckled, and she leaned back against him, feeling at once secure and uncertain. One instinct warred with another. To trust him and depend on him, or maintain clear boundaries.

  Her body was in no doubt. The shift of his big, strong form against hers, the breadth of his shoulders behind her, the rigid arm at her waist, all made her wish to melt and squirm against him. As she had the thought she moved, subtly, and the next instant he groaned in her ear.

  "Best you not do that, sweetheart. I thought my control was equal to this task. I may have been wrong."

  "I'm not sure what you mean," she said and moved again.

  "Where is my strict and stern governess? What have you done with her?"

  "She is married."

  "I see. And this makes such a difference?"

  "I am a great one for adherence to the rules. I understand this is now permissible."

  "God, yes. Only perhaps unwise, if you wise to reach our destination intact."

  "Intact?"

  "Hymen and all, sweetheart."

  "What, here? In the snow? You are not so crazed."

  "I might be. Or I might contrive a better solution that does not involve dismounting."

  "Is such a thing possible?"

  "Yes."

  "Have you tried it?" she asked, a note of warning in her voice.

  "No."

  "That is the correct answer."

  "I thought so." When she stiffened against him he added, "Also the truth, happily."

  "Happily indeed."

  "Would you like to ride facing the other way?"

  "I don’t see how that would work," she said, trying to imagine it.

  "You would straddle me."

  "I- Oh."

  "Your dress would be hiked up."

  "I imagine so."

  "Your arms would go about me."

  "That would probably be necessary, I should think. For balance."

  "Yes."

  "Would that not tempt the outcome you described a moment ago?"

  "Arriving at our destination without your hymen, you mean?"

  "That one. Yes."

  "In truth, we have not far to go."

  "It would present a very scandalous picture. I am not unknown in the neighborhood."

  "You may hide your face in my neck."

  "Are you trying to convince me?"

  "I admit I like the idea. Between your coat and my own, I do not think much of you would be on display."

  "Will your horse stand for it?"

  "She is very well trained."

  Julia sat still for a long moment, daring herself to do it, to try something new, to play with her husband of only a few hours, the game of his choice.

  "Very well. But I do expect to arrive entire. I am not prepared to- To-"

  "Lose your virginity on a horse?"

  "Precisely. Another time, perhaps."

  He had already halted his horse and started to rearrange her, but at this he paused and swore softly in wonderment. "Julia, sweetheart, you are entirely unexpected. You may make it to our destination but perhaps I shall not."

  "Am I to leave you by the wayside, then?"

  "That is not precisely what I mean. This skirt is very narrow."

  "It is. If you will raise me, I will lift it further."

  He shifted her, his hands hard about her waist, and for a moment she thought his labored breathing was from exertion, and then she decided that was unlikely. It must be some other cause. She looked at his face, before her now, but his attention was on the expanse of stockinged legs she had revealed. He lowered her until her bottom rested on his thighs.

  His hands followed his eyes, stroked over her legs, past knees to her ankles, which he encircled and drew closer, to fold her about him. "Can you sit there like that? Then my coat will cover you and keep you warm."

  "I think so. You will have to hold me tight."

  "I will, I swear it." His husky voice was fervent.

  She wrapped her arms around his body so her hands met behind his back under his coat, her nose buried in the complex folds of his cravat. It was an astounding sensation. Bared to him, completely entrusting her safety to him, able to see very little past his chest and her own bonnet. It was not comfortable. It was unspeakably stimulating, and when he urged his horse back into a walk she felt as if her limbs must have turned into water for she could not feel them at all, nor think, with the friction at her most vulnerable core. His body was there, mercilessly firm and so intimate, and she longed for even more, somehow.

  "How much . . . further?"

  "Too far," he said through gritted teeth.

  "Ride faster."

  They moved through trot to canter in three heartbeats, the communication between man and beast almost swift as thought, and the rocking motion, the thrust of his body against hers wiped her mind clear of every thought. Was that truly her, gasping and sighing against him? It could not be. It was.

  "Oh Colin. Colin."

  "Almost there."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  It was a small house standing in a garden full of trees and drifted snow. It was a blur to her. Their dismount was awkward, and he had to set her down for a moment while he stripped tack from his horse with hands that fumbled with haste, swift nonetheless, and led the mare into the single stall of the small stable, where oats and hay waited her.

  Julia leaned against a doorway feeling most peculiar, almost boneless, charged with weird vitality and yet a desire to lie down. Finished with his horse, Colin gave her a single look then stepped forward to
lift her in his arms.

  He unlocked the door to the small house and pushed it open, carried her over the threshold and into the dimness within. The place smelled fresh, recently aired, and he did not even glance about but only shut the door behind him and went straight up the stairs with her. Her arms were looped around his neck and she could see only him, his jaw firmly set, his eyes hard and hot as they looked down at her, his nostrils flared.

  She did not see the bed, only felt it beneath her as he lowered her to it.

  "No. Wait. Clothes," he said, and as he lifted her back to her feet she had to laugh.

  "Where is my master seducer?"

  "Apparently not here, Mrs Holbrook. You will have to make do with me."

  She stood patiently, quivering inside, as he carefully undid the buttons of her coat, lifted it from her and let it drop to the floor. He moved behind her to the tiny buttons at the back of her bodice. She felt them release, inch by slow inch. Urgency had departed in this peculiar stillness. The room was quiet, and nothing stirred beyond it. Everything was silent. She could hear her own breath, and his, and the whisper of cloth, and no more.

  He circled her again and stood before her as her forearms lifted to hug her loosened dress in place, and put his fingertips under her chin. She looked up at him.

  "Stern governess." His thumb stroked an eyebrow. "Courageous adversary." His hand cupped her head. "Saucy jade."

  "I'm not."

  "You are. I can see it"

  "No-"

  "Stop arguing with me."

  "Stop trying to command me."

  He sighed, and put his forehead against hers and stared into her eyes, too close to focus. She blinked at him. "Just this once, just for this moment, this hour . . . these days . . . cease to fight me. We are partners in this, you and I. Let us discover it."

 

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