Her bonnet matched her cloak and she finished tying it just as they arrived at the Wades’ front porch. Sophie stood against the railing and waved as Emma approached. “Good morning.”
Clayton touched her back and whispered, “I’m going to assist Jamie with the beast.”
“Okay.” Emma climbed the steps and hugged her sister. “There really should be a law about getting up this early.”
“Yes, there should be. How are you?”
“I’m great, how are you?”
“I feel good. Just tired.”
Emma nodded. “Me too. I’m going to sleep on the train.”
“Of course you are,” Sophie grumbled.
Emma put her arm around her sister. “Don’t hate me. Just because I can sleep and you can’t.”
All of a sudden, the girls heard pounding hooves and a panicked yell. Samson ran towards the house, sans halter or lead, a frantic groom on his heels.
“What the—?” Sophie rushed off the porch and into the path of her horse. “Samson!”
As soon as he heard her voice, he slowed and trotted toward her. He stopped in front of her and nuzzled her shoulder. Sophie held her palm out with a sugar cube settled in the middle. “Samson. You’re going to drive some of these very nice men insane. You realize that, right?”
The groom apologized profusely, gasping for air as he tried to explain. She held her hand out and took the bridle from him and put it on Samson. “What happened?”
The groom leaned his hands on his knees and took a deep breath. “He just took off, ma’am. I’m very sorry.”
“It’s all right. Is the lieutenant bringing his saddle?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Clayton and Jamie arrived a few minutes later with the saddle and Jamie assisted Sophie into the carriage. Clayton had a brief word with the driver and then lifted Emma inside. They arrived at the Harrisburg Train Station in record time, the small building a bustle of activity. Sophie and Jamie loaded Samson into the stall they had reserved for him and then they were escorted to their private parlor car.
Clayton waited for Emma to sit by the window and then sat next to her. She pulled her gloves off and shoved them into her cloak pocket. “How long will the trip be?”
Clayton mirrored her actions and took her hand in his. “About four hours. We’ll stop at Camden Station and then on to D.C.”
Sophie sat across from Emma and smiled at her new brother-in-law. “Clayton, thanks for letting me bring Samson. I would have missed him terribly.”
“You’re welcome.”
The train started to move and the group fell into a comfortable silence. An hour into their journey, Jamie and Clayton went to stretch their legs and find some food.
“What are you going to do when you meet the President?” Emma whispered. “Will you try and warn him?”
“About Booth?” Sophie asked.
“Yes.”
Sophie shrugged. “I don’t know. Every movie I’ve ever seen about time travel always talked about the importance of never messing with history, you know? But, what would our country be like if Lincoln lived, even a few years longer? What if I could tell him that his only surviving adult child is Robert and that the last descendent from his line dies in 1984? It’s overwhelming.”
“You’ve apparently thought about this already,” Emma observed.
“Since I got here! I dream about it all the time. How bad would it really be if he lived and such? But, then the question of messing with God’s plan comes up in my mind and I’m back to the beginning.”
The men returned with a small snack, which interrupted the heavy discussion, and as soon as they were done eating, Emma leaned against Clayton and promptly fell asleep.
“It’s so not fair!” Sophie whispered frustrated.
Jamie chuckled. “Why don’t you put your head on my lap and at least try to sleep? There’s plenty of room for you to stretch out.”
“In these skirts?”
“Just lie down and try. You’re exhausted and it wouldn’t hurt, right? Come on. I’ll make sure you don’t fall off the bench.”
She removed her bonnet, laid down, and Jamie wrapped one arm around her waist to keep her secure. She sighed as he stroked her face and he smiled in silent triumph when she finally fell asleep and stayed that way for over an hour.
* * *
Emma yawned and slid her hand around Clayton’s waist. “Mm, where are we?”
He kissed her temple. “We’re almost to Camden Station.”
Emma smiled and nodded. “I should wake up then.”
Clayton chuckled. “Probably a good idea.”
She forced her eyes open and sat up. Glancing at her sister, she raised an eyebrow at Jamie. “Is she actually asleep?”
Jamie winked. “Yep.”
“You’ve become the Sophie whisperer.”
Jamie stifled a laugh as he brought a finger to his lips. “Shh, she needs to sleep.”
“Too late.” Sophie pushed herself off Jamie’s lap and sat up. “I woke up the moment you started moving your mouth.”
Emma grimaced. “Sorry.”
The hiss of the steam indicated they’d arrived in Maryland.
Sophie fixed her hair and set her bonnet back on her head. “Do I have time to check on Samson?”
Clayton nodded. “Yes. We’ll be leaving again in about thirty minutes.”
Jamie stood and took Sophie’s hand. As they left the parlor car, Emma turned to Clayton. “We’re alone.”
Clayton raised an eyebrow. “Yes, we are.”
“In a private parlor car.”
“Yes. In a private parlor car,” he repeated.
“And, we probably have at least fifteen minutes.”
“Yes, we probably do.” Clayton pulled her into his arms and began to kiss her.
A bang on the door elicited a very unladylike curse from Emma.
“Tickets!” came a voice on the other side of the door.
“Tickets?” Emma frowned and pushed away from him. “We have a private car, why would he be asking for tickets?”
Clayton set her next to the window before he opened the door.
“You opened that door entirely too quickly,” a low voice admonished.
Clayton chuckled. “Samuel Powell, what are you doing on this train?”
“I’m returning from a quick visit home.” A tall blond man shook Clayton’s outstretched hand and then stepped over the threshold. “I ran into Jamie when I was boarding.”
“Join us, then. We have plenty of room.” Clayton held his hand out to Emma. “May I introduce my wife? Emma, this is Sam Powell.”
Emma rose to her feet and reached out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Powell.”
Light blue eyes crinkled with warmth as he smiled and raised her hand to his lips. “Sam, please.”
Clayton pulled Emma’s hand away from Sam’s mouth with a low growl. “Mr. Powell will suffice, Sam.”
Emma raised an eyebrow and squeezed Clayton’s hand. “Thank you, Sam. You must call me Emma.”
Sam laughed and clapped Clayton’s shoulder. “You did well, I see. I’m sorry I missed your wedding.”
Emma took her seat again and Clayton sat next to her. Sam sat across from them just as Jamie and Sophie returned and took their seats. Clayton took advantage of the distraction, kissing Emma’s fingers and leaning over to whisper, “We’ll be home soon, sweet. I’ll make sure you are no longer frustrated.”
“You better.”
Sophie removed her gloves and bonnet and tried her best to tame the locks of hair that had escaped her pins.
“How’s Samson?” Emma asked.
“He’s not happy.” Sophie rubbed her forehead. “He doesn’t like the moving stall and he’s snorting up a storm, apparently. So far, though, he hasn’t kicked anything, and I was able to calm him down a bit. We don’t have much longer, so I think he’ll survive.”
Emma ran her finger across Clayton’s palm. “What’s the plan o
nce we get to the station?”
Clayton tried to close his hand, but Emma grinned and continued to entice him. “A carriage will be waiting to take us to the townhouse. I have arranged for an additional horse also, in case we want to ride.”
Sophie grimaced. “I think I should ride Samson.”
Jamie patted her knee. “If the weather stays mild, you and I can ride. If you’re okay with riding in the carriage, Clayton.”
Clayton nodded. “Yes, that’s fine with me.”
* * *
The train pulled into Union Station and Clayton led the group out onto the platform. Sam said his farewells as Jamie and Sophie went to retrieve Samson, and the bags were loaded onto the awaiting carriage. Emma’s heart raced a little as Sophie led Samson over to them. He snorted and shook his head, sidestepping as she tried to bring him under control. Emma couldn’t remember seeing a bigger horse, and he certainly wasn’t happy.
“Knock it off, Samson. You’re off the train now.” Sophie slipped her hand into the pocket of her skirts and handed him a sugar cube. She pulled him over to a tree stump she could use to mount him and Jamie stood at his head holding the reins while she climbed into the saddle.
“I’m not sure this is such a good idea, Ten-Cow.”
Sophie patted Samson’s neck and gathered the reins in her hands. “He’ll calm down. He just wants to go.”
Jamie checked her stirrups and girth and then mounted the horse Clayton had provided.
Clayton assisted Emma into the carriage and then turned to Jamie. “Are you ready?”
He nodded and Clayton climbed in the carriage with Emma. The carriage rocked forward and Emma relaxed into the back of the seat. Clayton sat across from her and lifted her feet onto his lap. Gently removing her boots, he started to massage her feet.
Emma sighed in bliss. “How long until we get home?”
He loved that she was already referring to his home as hers. “Probably thirty minutes. Why?”
Emma smiled, pulled her feet out of his hands, and stood. He reached up and grasped her waist. “What are you doing? You’ll fall.”
She moved over to him, lifted her skirts, and straddled his hips. “Let’s see if the rocking from the carriage adds to the pleasure.”
He put his hands on her hips and began to kiss her. “Are we considering this research?”
“Yes, that’s good, baby, it’s research. We really shouldn’t rush it. We need to make sure our data is absolutely correct. We must be thorough.”
Clayton slid his hand between her legs and let out a surprised chuckle. “You naughty minx, you have nothing on under your skirts.”
“I’m nothing if not prepared.”
He raised an eyebrow in question. “You had clothes on when we left the house.”
“Did I?”
Clayton’s eyes widened as he opened her blouse. “I appreciate your dedication to the job, sweetheart.”
“Mmmm, yes. I’m dedicated.”
He tugged her chemise down to expose her breasts and kissed one, then the other. “Hold the straps, sweetheart.”
Emma grabbed the straps on either side of the carriage and anchored herself while Clayton unbuttoned his breeches and guided himself inside of her.
His hands slid up her thighs, past the top of her stockings and cupped her bottom. Squeezing gently, he pressed his cock deeper into her and Emma dropped her head back.
Clayton sat up slightly, drawing a nipple into his mouth and biting down gently as Emma rode him, her movements matching those of the carriage.
“Get there, Clayton,” she demanded and he kissed her as her walls contracted around him. She let go of one of the straps and gripped his chin. “You didn’t get there.”
He chuckled. “I plan to, Emma. But we have time, and I’m enjoying myself.”
She leaned down and kissed him. “I want you to bite me some more.”
He nodded to the window. “Straps.”
She grinned and grabbed the strap again, sighing as Clayton ran a tongue over her pulse before drawing a nipple into his mouth and biting down again…this time a little harder.
Emma dropped her head back again. “Ohmigod, yes.”
Keeping her nipple in his mouth, he gripped her hips and slammed into her while she kept herself steady. He had full range of motion, but with her hands occupied, she wasn’t able to touch him. This drove her crazy. Crazy hot.
He pressed a palm against her mound and she ground her clit against it with a whimper of need.
“Climb off, sweet.”
“What? Why?”
He grinned. “Trust me.”
She stood as much as she could in the small space and Clayton guided her onto the bench across from him. “Brace your feet, Emma.”
She stretched her legs across the small aisle and while he knelt in front of her and pushed her skirts higher, tugging her bottom to edge of the seat. Gripping her thighs, he buried his face between her legs and Emma cried out as he ran his tongue over her soaked folds, then bit down on her clit. She couldn’t stop herself from grabbing his hair and pulling while grinding her pussy against his mouth.
Just as he brought her to the brink, his mouth was gone, replaced with his cock, and he kissed her as he slammed into her. She held tight to one of the straps again, while he buried himself deeper and deeper, kneading her breasts, then rolling her nipples between his fingertips.
“Clayton!”
“Now, sweetheart,” he panted, and she exploded.
Clayton wasn’t far behind and she released her hold on the leather, looping her arms around his neck as they came down from their climax high.
“Wow,” she breathed out.
He grinned, sliding out of her and righting his clothing. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and cleaned her up before helping her with her blouse. The carriage began to slow down just as the couple finished redressing.
“Well, Mrs. Madden, what is your conclusion? Does the rocking of the carriage add to the pleasure?”
“I believe, Mr. Madden, that we will need to do a control test. We’ll need to do the experiment both inside and outside the carriage to determine the validity of the data.”
Clayton laughed. “Loving you is so easy.”
“I hope you always feel that way,” Emma said with a smirk.
He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her. “I will.”
“I like that answer.” She pushed herself off his lap. “Ugh, we need to stop touching, I think.”
Clayton wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. “Why is that?”
“Because, I can’t keep my hands off you.” She tipped her chin up to face him. “I never thought sex would be like this.”
“What did you think it would be like?”
“I knew I would like it, but I had no idea I would crave it.”
He chuckled. “I must be doing something right then. If you ever don’t crave it, tell me and I’ll take care of it.”
“I promise.” She smiled and kissed him one more time.
There was a knock at the carriage door and Jamie opened it, his hand covering his eyes. “Are you two decent?”
“We are now,” Emma retorted.
Clayton jumped out and lifted Emma down. The driver took the coach and horses into the carriage house, which was located at the back of the property.
The townhouse was red brick, with a beautiful white columned portico on the outside. It looked to be about three stories high and both Emma and Sophie fell in love immediately.
“I missed all the detail before.” Emma squeezed Clayton’s arm. “This is exquisite.”
He smiled down at her. “I hope you’ll be very happy here.” Clayton surprised her when he picked her up and carried her over the threshold.
“You better be careful, honey. I might make you keep going all the way to the bedroom.”
“Don’t you worry, sweet, we’ll have plenty of time for everything you desire.”
“I’ll hold you to that
,” she whispered and kissed his neck.
Emma heard Sophie gasp as they walked through the front door into the spacious foyer. It was much larger than one would have expected from the outside and it was spectacular.
“Wow,” Sophie said in awe.
“I will never get you out of the foyer, will I?” Jamie chuckled as he wrapped his arms around his wife from behind and kissed her shoulder.
Sophie didn’t answer.
“Is it the house or the history?” Emma asked her.
“Both,” Sophie whispered.
“Would you like a tour of the house now, or would you rather wait until later?” Clayton asked.
“I’d really like to sleep, so if it’s all right with you, can we do it later, please?” Sophie asked.
“Of course. Jenkins will show you to your room. Emma and I are on the opposite side of the house, so you will have an ample amount of privacy. Dinner is at six.”
The butler led Jamie and Sophie to their wing of the house and Clayton took Emma’s hand and moved towards theirs. Emma squeezed his hand. “Your butler’s name isn’t really Jenkins, is it?”
“No, it’s Walter, but he does a very convincing English accent, so we nicknamed him Jenkins.”
“Why does he need to do a very convincing English accent?”
Clayton leaned down and whispered. “Because he’s not a butler.”
Emma’s eyes widened and she nodded. “Got it.”
Clayton opened a door and stepped back to allow Emma to walk in first. She walked into an ivory and chocolate brown sitting room that was the perfect combination of masculine and feminine decorations. Not one frill anywhere. She turned and raised an eyebrow.
Clayton smiled and held his hand up. “Before you say anything, this is our bedroom.”
“Seriously?”
He nodded. “Yes. I sent Gwendolyn a wire and she prepared everything.”
“Gwendolyn?” Emma narrowed her eyes. “Gwendolyn redecorated your personal rooms?”
“It’s quite the amusing story, actually.”
Emma crossed her arms and looked at him in mock suspicion. “Do tell.”
“She’s a good friend of Mrs. Lincoln’s—”
The Bride Found (Civil War Brides Book 2) Page 21
