Francie & the Bachelor: A Caversham-Haberdasher Crossover

by Sue London

  “Does it make you curious?” he asked. Clearly she’d been staring.

  “A bit.”

  “Touch it.”

  Well, that sounded quite bold. But this was to be her husband. Flesh of my flesh and all that. She reached out a tentative hand. The skin was silky soft but the shaft was rigid as wood. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she rather liked it.

  ***

  Reggie wouldn’t swear to it, but it seemed his soon to be wife was petting his manhood. He’d only hoped to allay any maidenly fears, and now her ministrations less seductive than affectionate, although that part of his anatomy certainly wasn’t complaining about the attention. Why did he continue to be surprised that she was surprising?

  “Have you made a new friend?” he asked.

  She wrapped her hand around him and stepped closer. “I’d like to think so.”

  Well, and there she tipped from affectionate to seductive as hell.

  “The only problem is,” she looked over at the tight space of the bed. “I don’t see how we can both fit in there.”

  He stepped away from her to pull the tick off and throw it on the floor beneath their feet.

  “Well, aren’t you handy?” she asked with a smile.

  “I solve problems,” he said. “That’s what I do.”

  She sank down on the cushion that was now wedged between the cabinets and door. “Come here,” she said, patting the space next to her. “I think I have some problems for you to solve.”

  He fell to his knees at the bottom of the bed. “You’ll have to make room for me.”

  She tried scooting even further to one side, but he grabbed her hips, set her in the middle of the bed, and leaned down over her.

  “It’s important to remember there is always more than one way to solve a problem, and you need to be attentive to the ones you haven’t thought of before.”

  She grinned and slid those delicious legs around his waist again.

  “Perfect,” he said. He kissed her briefly on the lips, but he’d waited too long to taste the rest of her to linger there for long. He kissed her neck, her shoulder, the delicate skin under her breast. He sucked her nipples until they were hard little points again, then covered them with his palms while he kissed down her belly to that sweet little navel he’d seen earlier. She arched her back, impatient and wanting. When he rolled her nipples between his fingers she gasped and arched harder.

  “Reggie!”

  “You should be quiet, love,” he said softly against her hip. “There’s not much privacy on a ship.”

  She patted the top of his head absently. “Should have done this at the inn.”

  “Just bite your tongue and think about how much you love the ocean,” he advised.

  She snorted, but kept quieter, only yielding soft gasps and sighs as he kissed down her hip to her leg. The delicate flesh of her inner thigh deserved special attention, including some nips that made her skin quiver.

  “Reggie,” she growled threateningly. She grabbed his hair and yanked at it. He obligingly slid back up her body.

  “Yes, love?”

  “If you don’t want me to scream,” she bit out, “then don’t do things that will make me scream.”

  “Perhaps we can solve that problem another way.” He kissed her until she relaxed into his embrace. When he covered her intimate curls with his palm she shifted but settled after a moment. When his fingers started stroking gently into her heat she pushed him back from their kiss. Impressive, really, since he had a good two stone on her.

  “Yes, love?” he asked.

  “I need, I need a moment.”

  He’d never stopped stroking her and she didn’t push his hand away, so he continued. Lazy, delicate strokes that barely probed her heat. He settled his mouth near her ear and whispered, “I think what you need is to scream. A lot.”

  The way she arched against him made him think he was right. He covered her mouth with his own again and echoed the thrust and play of his tongue with his fingers. The first time he dipped a finger fully into her slick heat he groaned right along with her. He couldn’t wait much longer to be inside her or he would spend right here andnow. While his finger tested how tight she was his thumb brushed over the bud at the top of her sex. She trembled the first time he made a firm swipe against it. Bloody hell, she was responsive. He wanted to make sure she achieved her pleasure the first time and he didn’t know if he would be more than a rutting beast when he mounted her, so he rubbed her clit until she was moaning and writing beneath him. When he felt her sweet little cunt starting to spasm he finally gave himself permission to enter her. He took the risk of breaking their kiss for a moment.

  “Are you ready?”

  “Yes, oh God, yes!”

  He bit her neck. “Not God, just Reggie.”

  She pulled his face back for a kiss just as he slid into her the first time. She screamed into his mouth as her cunt closed around him like a fist. He thrust into her in a near frenzy and his own orgasm overtook him moments later. His vision turned red as he came into her longer than he thought possible.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Francie was entirely boneless. She was floating on a sea of sated pleasure, and the only other person in her universe was Reggie. He lay on top of her like a very heavy but pleasing blanket. She ran her fingers through his hair.

  “You were right about one thing,” he said, his voice muffled by the fact that he was speaking almost directly into her shoulder.

  “What’s that?” she asked idly.

  “We should have done this at the inn.”

  That made her chuckle a good deal more than it should and he raised his face to grin at her.

  “Oh stop, you,” she admonished.

  He propped his head on his hand. “I love you, you know.”

  “I’d heard some gossip to that effect,” she said.

  “You can’t really trust gossip, you know. You should have asked me directly.”

  “If you’ll recall, the only reason I know any of this is because I asked you.”

  “I had a plan,” he reiterated.

  “Since it didn’t include asking me what I wanted it was a terrible plan.”

  “It was a wonderful plan. It just didn’t survive contact with the enemy.”

  “I’m the enemy now?” she asked with mock outrage.

  “Only figuratively.”

  “You’re going to make a terrible husband.”

  He tickled her ribs, making her squeak and wriggle. “I will be a wonderful husband.”

  “You already called yourself my enemy,” she said, grabbing his tickling fingers.

  “Enemies can become allies. War is a tricky business.”

  “I love you, Reggie Burnham.”

  “I know,” he said, staring deeply into her eyes. She felt herself melt under his attentive gaze. “See how easy that was?” he asked. “No sarcasm at all from me.”

  She laughed. “Like I said, a terrible husband.”

  He kissed her smackingly on the lips and stood up, reaching down a hand for her. “We’re to have supper with the captain soon. We’d best be dressed for that.”

  When she was standing next to him she said, “Tell me again.”

  “What, that we’re having supper with the captain?”

  “No, the other thing. The love thing.”

  He pulled her close. “I love you, Francie Walters.”

  She put her hands on his cheeks. “Thank you,” she said, staring deeply into his eyes.

  After a few moments he puffed out a breath. “So that’s why you’re not serious very often.”

  “Why is that?”

  “You’re far too good at it.”

  She smiled up at him. “Better than you?”

  “Well,” he said, “I don’t know that I’d go quite that far.”

  She laughed as she’d not done in years.

  ***

  The next few days flew for Reggie. He worked most of the time, but he lived for th
e stolen moments with Francie. His wife-to-be. She loved the ocean and, much to his delight, the time they spent in their makeshift bed in her cabin. He regretted that London would put an end to their private time together. How much had they wasted? If only they’d been honest with each other immediately about their feelings. Hell, he could have taken her to Scotland easily from Cleadon. At the time he’d thought it so important to seek his family’s approval of the match, but at this point if they didn’t approve he would tell them they could go hang. His only regret would be all the debts he’d accrued in the Burnham name because it was stick in his father’s craw all the more if it were for a match he detested. But he would face that bridge if and when he came to it.

  Francie looked back at him from the bow where he’d brought her to watch their docking. “Reggie, this is amazing! How large is the city?”

  “Miles and miles,” he assured her. He was leaning on some of the lines to keep himself from gathering her against him. He tried to have some sense of decorum. But if she kept smiling at him like that he would be forced to pull her back until her bottom nestled just so on his front. And that led him to wondering how long they could be in their cabin ‘gathering their things’ before disembarking. The captain had kept a blind eye to their frivolity but it was quite possible he shouldn’t assume that would continue. But bloody hell, he wanted to see her grin over her shoulder at him like that while he was inside her.

  Perhaps he shouldn’t take her to her family or his, just to some fancy hotel where he could lavish her with sweets and rare wines. The thought of licking brandy off her breasts made his blood rush south all that much faster. He’d said she would be the death of him one day, but he was beginning to suspect it would be for a far different reason than he’d first thought.

  She pointed to various landmarks asking what they were. He told her what he knew and had to admit that there were a good number of things about London he’d never noticed before. The ship docked without incident and Francie lingered on the deck to watch it all like an enthusiastic child. That meant, however, they had far less time to pack up and leave. He changed back into his one set of civilian clothing while she chattered about all the things she’d seen at docking as though he hadn’t been right there beside her. They took their leave of the captain and crew and walked back onto dry land. The dock was crowded with mid-day workers and sailors.

  “Stay close,” he said. She slid her hand in the crook of his arm and pressed against his side.

  Making his way through the crowd to the first road, he hailed a cab. While the hackney picked his way across the crowded street Reggie turned to her. “I was wondering if…”

  “Out with it,” she said. “You’re terrible at asking things.”

  He grinned at her and straightened to his full height. “Typically an officer doesn’t ask, he commands.”

  “I’ve noticed that, too,” she said, poking him in the chest. “But you’re not just an officer, you’re a gentleman. And a gentleman asks.”

  “I wondered if you might want to spend a night or two at a hotel before we-”

  “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!” She hopped up and down, then threw her arms around him. He wasn’t sure he’d ever had a more popular idea.

  “Well, since that’s settled,” he said.

  She covered her mouth with her hand. “Am I a terrible person? Should I be checking on my cousin? I should be checking on my cousin. What if that horrible Mr. Donovan did something to her?”

  “I’m sure Harry and Caversham have it well in hand.”

  “Truly?”

  “On my honor.” He really had to hope he didn’t burn in hell for that one. And now he had to wonder how terrible a friend he was to sneak off to a hotel when he could be checking on Harry.

  But shortly all of their lives would be full of things like receiving hours and balls and the fashionable hour. Honestly, Francie had no idea what she was getting into. Hopefully he could spend the next two days convincing her that no matter what the ton threw at her, he was worth it.

  He handed her up into the cab and threw their luggage in after giving the cabbie his direction. Once settled he knew that she would be distracted by the sights for the rest of the journey, so he might as well relax. She was so enthusiastic that she was nearly hanging from the window trying to see everything. How had God seen fit to keep this sweet, joyful creature trapped in Cleadon all these years? Or had she been waiting for him? He would hate to have missed seeing her see London the first time. Or having the ocean spray cover her the first time. Or, and this really hurt to contemplate, seeking her pleasure the first time. He was glad to be here for all of it.

  She turned to him on the seat, her face lit up with excitement. “Reggie! We’re in London!” As though he could have missed that fact.

  He kissed her gloved hand. “I know, love. Once I have you settled at your uncles we can start shopping for your new wardrobe.”

  “Oh, no,” she plucked at her light blue serge. “I already have dresses.”

  He raised his brows at her. “You know how the girls in Cleadon had to have a prettier dress for the May Day party than any other time of the year?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “London is several steps above that. Imagine you were going to a May Day party with the right hand of God.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  He shrugged. “I only try to share my wise counsel with you.”

  She sank back into her seat. “No wonder you left London.”

  “I was taken from London,” he corrected.

  “Right, I’m sorry.” She sounded sincerely contrite, which mollified him. “But after one of those parties you will promise to take me from London too?”

  “Brat,” he said, tugging her close for a kiss.

  “I’m sure I’ll like Bermuda better,” she assured him, patting his chest.

  “It is warm.”

  “See, I’m liking it better already.”

  The cab pulled up in front of an impressive house on Albemarle Street and Reggie handed Francie down.

  “Oh, this is lovely,” she said.

  Liveried footmen came to retrieve their luggage and in less than a quarter hour they were registered in a spacious room under the names Mr. and Mrs. Burnham.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Francie felt a bit desperate to keep Reggie to herself for a few more days. How could someone have become so paramount to her in less than a fortnight? Was she truly a terrible person for not checking on her cousin? She likely was. She’d made all these decisions about her future without considering Phoebe at all. What if the doctor hadn’t proposed? What if Phoebe hadn’t accepted him? Francie should get assurances from Reggie that he would take on responsibility for the Grenard girls if Harry hadn’t. He would, wouldn’t he? He’d been the first one to propose to Phoebe in the beginning, just to honor his friendship with Wally. It hadn’t set well with her at the time, the idea of them marrying, but now it horrified her. Good God, what if Phoebe’s predicament and Reggie’s honor had forced the two of them together? She shuddered to think how that might have turned out. Most obviously, to her at least, was that then Francie couldn’t have married him. And quite honestly she couldn’t imagine being this happy with another man. Who else could fight with her one moment and tease her the next? Although he didn’t always understand her turn of mind, he remained determined to figure it out. And she had to admit that he really was deucedly clever at solving problems. She’d not even known that one thing she needed was time away with him before they turned themselves over to their families, but she had.

  Now here they were, settled into a luxurious bed in a luxurious hotel and he was dangling a berry over her nose, just out of her reach. Each time she bit at it he pulled it back. Soon she was going to bite him. He finally relented and put the fruit in his own teeth and settled over her for a kiss. They bit the berry in half and tried not to choke while chewing, kissing, and laughing all at the same time. When they could breathe again he pul
led back to look down at her.

  “I need to get on with marrying you.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “What if that berry had killed me and you were pregnant?”

  “That does sound terrifying.”

  “You don’t sound terrified.”

  “I suppose I would have to live out my days as a lady pirate then.”

  “That makes no sense, you would have my child to care for.”

  “Pirate child,” she corrected.

  “I’m trying to be at least a bit serious, Francie.”

  “You’re failing miserably at it.”

  “Francie,” he said in a warning tone.

  How did he not know that just goaded her to tease him more? But she relented, seeing as how he’d brought their imaginary pirate child into it. “Well, how do we get married?” she asked.

  “The proper way is for the banns to be read.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means we publish our intentions and wait two weeks.”

  “That sounds terrible. What are the other options?”

  “Well, special license, which means petitioning the Archbishop.”

  “That sounds more terrible.”

  “Or running off to Scotland to be married over the anvil.”

  “Scotland is cold.”

  “Well, what do you want to do?”

  She circled her fingers in his hair. “We just came south, so it makes little sense to go north again. I don’t know about you, but I don’t know any Archbishops. I’d say that leaves us with the banns.”

  “That’s what I suspected as well. It will also be what our families expect.”

  She tapped her fingers against his thick skull. “Which means if we hope to get married anytime soon we need to announce it to our families and have it published nearly immediately.”

  “It sounds advisable.”

  She sighed. “Which means I should go to my uncle’s tomorrow so we can follow this plan.”

  He perked up. “Oh? We’re using plans now?”

  “Oh stop, you,” she said, shoving at his shoulder. He chuckled and kissed her again in earnest.

  ***

  Reggie had faced battle and quite a few other gruesome things in his life, but he found that standing on the doorstep waiting to deliver a quite defiled niece to her uncle made him quake in his boots more than all the rest of them. Maybe if he hadn’t defiled her again this morning. Twice. While she enjoyed screaming into a pillow.