It was then Jason noticed the small portrait of his bride. With a sigh, he smiled, and uncharacteristic tears blurred his vision. “Exquisite, darling.”
As he returned to stand at the center of the room, he gazed upon a magnificent rendering of the Collingwood coat of arms, hanging above the fireplace. On the mantel rested a unique maritime clock, and upon further inspection he discovered the timepiece was, in fact, a rare Harrison. “Superb, sweetheart.”
Matching bookcases filled the right wall, and on the opposite side, two large displays featured his collection of spyglasses and compasses, including the family heirloom his father had used. Jason rotated and absorbed the majesty and intimacy of his sanctuary and wiped the moisture from the corner of his eyes.
Without thought, he ran from the study and ascended the stairs, two at a time. In the gallery, he skidded to a stop, as resplendent works of art filled the cavernous hall. But what snared his attention was the large, full-length portrait of his bride, hugging her swollen belly.
After untying his cravat, Jason doffed his coat and waistcoat, and trod down the corridor, which led to the octagon-shaped chamber he shared with the woman of his dreams. In the sitting room, he deposited the clothing on a chair and then eased open the interior door.
The apartment remained dark, and Alex slept, propped on a mountain of pillows. He stifled a chuckle, as he stripped from his shirt, boots, and breeches. The bedroom was chilly on that cool September morning, so he relit and stoked a blaze in the hearth. Naked and aroused, so what else was new, he slipped between the sheets.
As soon as he drew a cushion to his side, his wife rolled into him, snuggled close, rested a hand to his chest and her head to his shoulder, sighed, and smiled a feminine smile. He tucked the blankets beneath her chin and exhaled in unutterable contentment. And Jason vowed that, somehow, some way, he would declare his love.
#
The sun peaked through the heavy drapes, as Alex yawned and nestled closer to Jason’s warmth. Then she flinched and opened her eyes. Had she conjured a lifelike dream? If so, it was a most cherished fantasy, which had graced her waking hours every day, without fail, since her captain’s departure.
The subtle rush of his breath gave her gooseflesh, and she caressed his glorious chest. But that vision and sensation had summoned her from peaceful slumber only yesterday, so she skimmed her fingers lower and squeezed his oh-so-reliable erection, which her reveries had neglected to replicate with any semblance of accuracy. “You are home.”
Jason started and woke. “Hello, beautiful.”
“Oh.” Alex shrieked and hugged him tight. “How I missed you, as it has been difficult to sleep without you at my side.”
“I missed you, too. And I apologize for interrupting your routine.” With a chuckle, he winked and kissed her forehead. “You warned that might happen.”
“You are forgiven, as you kept your promise and returned to me.” Then, to her embarrassment, she wept.
“Sweetheart, please do not cry.” Her knight cupped her cheek and teased her lips with his thumb. “I drove all night to be with you, and I can bear anything but your tears.”
“I am sorry.” How Alex wanted to tell him the truth, as while she had decorated his study, surrounded by his personal items, he had captured her, all over again. But once before she had proclaimed her love, and Jason had rejected her. In her current vulnerable state, she could not withstand another disappointment, so she raised her defenses. “I have a surprise for you, which I would show you after breakfast.”
“Well I have a surprise for you.” He cast her a lopsided grin. “I may have ruined your surprise.”
“You have seen it?” Crestfallen, she pouted.
“If you reference my study, yes, I have, and it is...never have I...you should not...bloody hell.” Jason gritted his teeth and groaned. “Alex, you have outdone yourself. When I purchased Stratfield, I had imagined a serviceable country estate to raise a family. What you have managed, in so little time, humbles me, as you have exceeded my expectations, and I am so proud of you.”
“Praise, indeed.” And she could have danced a jig, were she not eight months pregnant, but ever-present doubt nagged at her consciousness. “So you are not vexed that I commandeered your private space, in your absence?”
“On the contrary, everything is beyond compare, and I can’t believe you procured a Harrison. Really, darling, you are amazing.” And then Jason furrowed his brow and frowned. “But I do have one complaint.”
“Oh?” Alex had celebrated her victory too soon. “There is something not to your taste?”
“Yes.” He tapped a finger to her nose. “Your picture on my desk—”
“We can remove it.” Knife to the heart with lethal accuracy. “It was just an afterthought—my little joke.”
“Hold hard, love, as this is no joke, to me.” Jason toyed with her nipple, and she gasped. “My issue is not with your portrait, as I should prefer nothing more than to gaze on your stunning face, but with the size, as the current rendering is too small. With your permission, I would take the miniature with me, aboard the Intrepid, as it is perfect for travel. And we can commission a larger work for my desk.”
“You wish to carry my image with you, to sea?” In that moment, her heart sang.
“Have I made you happy?” Now Jason gently stroked her breast. “You glow, my dear.”
“Yes.” Emboldened by his request, she again searched out his erection. “And I would wager I can inspire a bit of euphoria in you, too.”
“Wait.” Jason peered at the bedside table. “Where is the cloth, as we will need it?”
“In the top drawer.” As he came to life in her hand, her confidence soared, and she worked him, hard and rough, just as he liked it.
“I am a poor substitute for your naughty finger work, darling.” He hissed, and moisture seeped from the plumb-shaped tip. “I had better situate the towel, as this will not take long.”
Truer words were never spoken, because no sooner had her captain put in place their odd protection than he opened his mouth in a silent scream and let fly a wicked volley. Over and over, he grunted and thrust his hips, and his completion seemed never-ending.
At last, Jason relaxed and laughed, in his booming baritone. “Oh, Alex, how I needed that.”
“So I gather.” She giggled. “And you made a mess. Should I discard the cloth?”
“That is your fault.” Suddenly, her husband glanced at her, narrowed his stare, and shifted until he hovered above her. Rubbing his nose to hers, he slipped his fingers between her thighs. “You tempt me beyond the limits of sanity and self-control, and leave the towel, as we are not finished.”
“Do I?” She shivered, as he teased her most intimate flesh, and their interlude harked back to treasured memories of those carefree days in Plymouth.
“Yes, but I think you know that.” He growled when she moaned. “How I savor your pleasure song. Sing for me, sweetheart.”
Alex went up in flames.
#
“Alex, I love you.” The world shifted beneath his boots, and Jason teetered and collapsed into the chair, in his study. For a few minutes, he gasped for air, and nausea clawed at his throat. As the room seemed to spin out of control, and his ears rang, he bent forward, rested his head between his knees, inhaled, exhaled, inhaled, and exhaled. “This is deuced humiliating, Collingwood. Your sire must be rolling over in his grave.”
Without thought or care, he stood, and the room tilted left and then right, and he dropped to his seat, sans the old infuriating dust cloud, to his relief, thanks to his wife’s procurement of the new, high-back leather masterpiece that currently supported his miserable arse. Focused on the ceiling, he growled in frustration, speared his fingers through his hair, slowly rose to his feet, and leaned on his desk for stability.
The miniature of his bride, the chief source of his discomfit, seemed to mock him. “Darling, I swear I will get this right and make my declaration without vomiting.”<
br />
Dirk, Trevor, and Everett had been right. Uttering that simple but nonetheless powerful phrase constituted the most terrifying prospect of his existence. Then again, perhaps he approached the situation in reverse. Instead of centering his efforts on the declaration, he should commence the courtship.
Now that posed a daunting task, as never had Alex required such formalities, and whores demanded only money, thus he had no experience with such triviality. From the first waltz, his bride had made no secret that she wanted him. How ironic it was that Jason had accused her of deceit, when the reality was his wife wore her heart on her sleeve. In his ignorance, he had trounced her generous spirit, to his everlasting regret.
“I know what I can do for her.” He snapped his fingers. “My bride adores roses, and, thanks to her efforts, I have a rose garden.”
So with his constitution quite recovered, he strolled to the door, unlocked the bolt, and strode into the hall. Taking a shortcut through the house, he navigated the back parlor and then exited via the terrace. As he rounded a large hedge, a sharp rebuke had him ducking for cover.
“You soiled my dress.” Carrying a basket of cut flowers, the nursemaid stomped her foot and thrust her nose in the air, and Jason stifled a snort of laughter. “Get out of my way.”
“But—apples are your favorite fruit.” The bungling Mr. Penniman retreated, and his shoulders slumped. “I had thought we could slice it in half and eat it beneath the oak tree, near the creek. It boasts a lovely view of the countryside.”
“I have no time for such nonsense.” Molly sidestepped the clumsy suitor and pranced toward the manor. “My mistress requires my assistance.”
It was the nanny’s newfound confidence and haughty demeanor that drew Jason up short and distracted him from his mission. As his former cook-maid dressed down the stablemaster, she garnered a measure of respect.
There was something vaguely familiar in her condescending tone and aloofness. With an expression of utter confusion and dispiritedness, Tom scratched his chin. Suspicion nipped at Jason’s heels, and he returned to his study.
The household accounts occupied him until lunch, given Alex’s spending spree, so it was only when his stomach grumbled that Jason realized he was hungry enough to eat his toenails. When he entered the dining room, he halted, as the nursemaid huddled beside Alex, who occupied her usual place at his left.
“Just do as I told you,” his darling bride said, in a low voice. “Show him no mercy, and everything will be fine.”
In that instant, Molly spied Jason and jumped. “Good afternoon, Cap’n.”
“Oh, Jason.” With a hand pressed to her temple, Alex cleared her throat. “I am so glad you could join me, as I am quite starved. That will be all, Molly.”
“Then it appears my timing is excellent.” As he perched at the head of the table, he draped a napkin in his lap. “So what did I interrupt, as you two looked thick as thieves?”
“How you do exaggerate.” Her nervous laughter further piqued his curiosity and suspicion. “We discussed additions to the nursery, as I remain unhappy with the overall renovation.”
“Good afternoon, Cap’n and your ladyship.” Miss Phipps conveyed two steaming bowls. “We have your favorite, sir. Lady Alex requested hare stew to welcome you home.”
“Smells delicious.” So it appeared his charming bride had recovered another facet of her long absent personality, yet he would have preferred to leave her matchmaking skills in the past.
“How was that, Lady Alex?” Gertie compressed her lips. “Did I get it right, this time?”
“Perfect.” His wife beamed, as a proud parent, and again he glimpsed the old Alex. “And fret not, as I scheduled interviews with prospective footmen and kitchen maids, and I intend to hire additional servants, in the coming weeks. We should be at full staff, soon. And I would rather you limit your activities to that of primary housekeeper.”
“Very good, ma’am.” Miss Phipps half-curtseyed.
As he speared a morsel, Jason glanced at his glass of water and frowned. “I believe I would prefer ale with my meal.”
“Right away, Cap’n,” Miss Phipps replied.
“Stand fast, Gertie.” After pushing from the table, he stood. “I remain unaccustomed to such service and would fetch my own drink.”
When he entered the kitchen, he located a mug and a pitcher of ale.
“Look at you.” Molly humphed. “You are covered in dust and smell like an animal.”
Jason peered out the window and discovered the erstwhile sweethearts engaged in another heated battle.
“What do you expect?” Tom folded his arms. “I am a stable hand.”
“Then I suggest you confine yourself to the yard.” The nursemaid turned on her heel, but the stablemaster stayed her.
“Will you never forgive me?” Tom clutched Molly’s fingers. “Is there no second chance for us?”
“I begged you to marry me, in Plymouth.” She sniffed. “And you refused.”
“I made a mistake, Molly.” Tom brought her knuckles to his lips. “Have you never done anything you regretted?”
A strange sense of déjà vu traipsed Jason’s spine.
The nanny and the stablemaster navigated stormy seas almost identical to that of Alex and Jason. How had he missed the similarity? And Molly’s new attitude mirrored that of his once fiery wife.
Had Alex intervened on behalf of her close friend? Had his bride provided intimate advice? If so, then all was not lost, as his vivacious society maiden persisted beyond the walls of their bedchamber. He exhaled in relief. And then a grand idea formed in his brain. Perhaps in reuniting the servants, he could reconcile with Alex.
But he had to ascertain whether or not his wife supported the nursemaid, before he plotted his course. When he regained his seat, he noted his pregnant better half had devoured most of her portion. “You have some appetite, darling. Been busy, since our lazy morning, in bed?”
“You should always be so lazy, Jason.” She averted her stare and blushed. “And Molly and I are refining the final furnishings in the nursery, as I want everything to be perfect for our babes.”
“My lady, I shall forgo my morning ride and linger with you, amid the sheets, to your heart’s content.” He waggled his brows, and she giggled, a lilting sound that kissed his flesh. “Your attention to detail is commendable.”
“Thank you.” It had not escaped his notice that she had shed another layer of reserve and blossomed beneath his praise. “Molly is indispensable, and I am grateful that you brought her to Stratfield.”
“Then we are most fortunate she has decided to remain in our employ.” Alex’s cherubic ebullience well nigh stole his breath. “It seems the stablemaster’s presence no longer distresses our nanny.”
As she had just consumed a healthy mouthful of stew, Alex choked violently.
“Careful, love.” He patted her back. “You should not bite off more than you can chew.”
“Remember, I eat for three.” How innocent she appeared, as she fluttered her lashes, a tactic she had used in London.
“Have some milk, sweetheart.” He slid her glass within reach. “By the by, I overheard a heated row between Molly and Tom. My heretofore-shy charwoman has grown quite bold.” He counted to three. “In fact, she reminds me of you.”
Alex spat milk across the table.
In that moment, Jason required no further proof of his wife’s involvement in the romantic affairs of the nanny and the stablemaster. And he relished her pitiful attempts to disguise her involvement, as she could never hide anything from him.
“Oh, dear.” She wiped her face and swallowed hard. “I know not what came over me.”
“Are you all right?” He tamped a guffaw. “Have a care for yourself and our babes, darling.”
“Of course, I am fine.” She shifted in her seat. “But I have a request, if you are not too busy, today.”
“My lady, I am always at your service.” And that was an understatement. “What wou
ld you have of me?”
“I wondered if you might have a word with Mr. Penniman.” As Alex inclined her head, she cast him a doe-eyed glance and worried her bottom lip. “If it is not too much trouble.”
“It is no trouble, at all.” For a minute, he thought she intended him to act as her aide-de-camp. Together, they would conspire to bring together the nanny and the stablemaster, and that might inspire a second reconciliation. “What is your problem with Tom?”
“His manners.” As she toyed with the last bite in her bowl, she frowned. “And his demeanor toward me.”
“What?” Now Jason bristled with anger, as he would brook no mistreatment of his wife. “Has something happened between you two, since my departure?”
“Yes.” Alex furrowed her brow. “Mr. Penniman has been rude to me, on occasion, and I know not why. But it is rather disconcerting, as I have tried to welcome him, in accordance with your wishes. I even bade Mr. Harper renovate the stable house, yet the stablemaster expressed no acknowledgement or thanks.”
“I will speak with Tom, after lunch.” He drained his mug of ale and pounded a fist to the table. “If he cannot show you proper respect, he can return to Plymouth.”
“Oh—no.” Alex grabbed his wrist and then recoiled, as if he had burned her. “I am sure it is nothing more than a simple misunderstanding. You must not terminate him, as you, yourself, commented, we are fortunate to have Mr. Penniman in our employ.”
“So you would have me counsel him?” Jason checked his ire and clutched her hand. “To what purpose?”
“Advise him of his place in our household.” When he massaged her palm with his thumb, she shivered, and how he loved flustering her. “Mr. Penniman conducts himself above his station, nothing more. But I shudder to think how Blake or Damian would respond to such behavior, and I would preserve the stablemaster’s head on his shoulders, for Molly’s sake.”
“Then say no more, darling.” From his perspective, Tom required a visit to the tailor and the barber. Then Jason would instruct his young charge on the finer points of personal grooming and shaving. Given the nicks and cuts on Tom’s chin and throat, the lad had been graced with an easy approach to horses yet persisted at serious risk of bleeding to death. “As your every happiness is my fondest desire.”
Captain Of Her Heart Page 19
