“Oh, love, you’re so tight, I don’t want to hurt ye,” he said, though the words were edged with desperation.
“You won’t,” she said, stroking his back to soothe away his concerns. “Don’t stop.”
He filled her in one, strong thrust and then stilled as she gasped and clung to him, his powerful frame trembling in her arms.
“Grace?” he said, seeking reassurance that she was not hurt.
She couldn’t answer for a moment, not from pain, but from the strange sensation, the fullness. It wasn’t comfortable, but it didn’t hurt.
“I’m fine,” she managed, though it sounded breathless. “Don’t stop.”
Carefully, he moved again, and this time when he slid home, it was easier. Grace felt the tension leave her body by degrees as he moved and the first tendrils of pleasure at the feel of him inside her.
“Oh,” she said, smiling now.
Ned lifted his head, such a look in his eyes that her heart expanded, filling her chest so completely that she felt she might burst from happiness. She reached up and touched his face.
“I love you,” she said.
He made a sound, incoherent but heartfelt, as he sought her mouth and kissed her.
There was nothing else said after that, only sounds of pleasure and ecstatic cries as they discovered the happiness to be found in their union. As the peak shimmered behind her eyes once more, Grace clung to him, laughing as joy glittered through her.
Ned’s powerful frame shuddered, and the sound he made as he took his pleasure and spilled inside her was raw and fierce and made her feel alive in a way she’d never known possible.
“Gracie,” he said, once he could speak again. He rolled to one side and pulled her into his arms, kissing her over and over. “My beautiful Gracie.”
“All yours,” she agreed, as she laughed and cried at once.
He kissed away her tears and she tumbled into a dreamless sleep, safe and happy for the first time in her life.
“I don’t want to leave,” Ned said as he picked up his hat from the bed and looked around to make sure nothing had been forgotten.
He felt as if he’d been living in a dream, the most perfect, wonderful dream he’d ever had. He’d never known such joy, such pleasure could be found with another. Before he’d married there had been lovers enough. He’d been young, lusty, and good-looking, and there had been plenty of lasses willing to take a tumble with him. Yet, though there had been those he’d been fond of—one he might even have married if Sarah hadn’t caught him—he’d never loved before. Not like this. Not with the intensity of feeling that made him believe Grace had been knitted into every fibre of his being. The bursting sensation of love that filled his chest, and the hot surge of desire that shot straight to his loins whenever he looked at her, were overwhelming.
There was foreboding in his heart, though, and he feared if they left this room the world would intrude, and their idyll would shatter.
It made his heart hurt.
“Me either,” Grace said, moving to him and slipping her hand into his. “But it will be nice to go home too, won’t it?”
There was an edge to her voice, and he knew what she feared: that her brother would hear the news and come looking for her, or that perhaps Mr Carrington, with his wealth and his power, would seek retribution. Those were things he didn’t fear. If any man came after Grace—if either of them ever hurt her, or tried to, by word or deed—Ned would break them.
No, it was life he feared. The kind of life he led that she’d only had a taste of as yet. The kind of life she ought to be above, and the way those she’d known before she married him would treat her.
She’d said she loved him, and the knowledge blazed inside him like a beacon and his heart huddled beside it, clinging to the warmth it gave him. Yet love didn’t always endure in the face of hardship or adversity, not if it wasn’t strong enough. He’d rescued her, and she was grateful for that, she’d found safety with him and much of what she felt was because of that safety.
Would she love him still when her new life had lost its novelty, and she realised the world she’d been born to was gone forever….
“It will,” he said, leaning down to kiss her nose. “It will be good to be home… and to share my bed with ye,” he added, smiling at her as she laughed and the weight in his heart eased at the sound of it.
“Yes,” she said, nodding her agreement, a naughty glint in her eyes. “And the house will be cold when we get in, so we shall have to light the fires and go straight to bed to keep warm, until the chill has gone.”
Ned kissed her properly for that, still stunned by the ease with which she owned her desire for him, for the pleasure she took in his body, in her own. Sarah had made him feel ashamed and frustrated by his needs and wants, but that was long forgotten now.
“Come on then, Mrs Hardy, before I tumble ye onto yer back once more and have my way with ye.”
“Wicked man,” she said with a sigh, though her blue eyes twinkled with mirth and he was sorely tempted to do just that.
Wanting to put off the return to reality for as long as possible, Ned insisted on taking her shopping. Though the fashionable set were gone for the winter, there were shops of the kind she’d not find closer to home, and he wanted her to have everything she could desire. It would be a while before they left the farm again, especially if the weather closed in. When there were animals to feed and preparations to be made for crops and planting, it was not an easy thing to leave the farm unattended for long.
As ever, she was reluctant to spend his money, but he persuaded her to buy two books—novels of the kind her father had denied her—and a good pair of sturdy boots that were fashionable but able to withstand the rigours of farm life. He also bought her a soft cashmere wrap, the price of which made his eyes bulge, but it was a vibrant sapphire blue and matched the colour of her eyes, and he couldn’t leave the shop without buying it for her.
“No,” she insisted sternly, though she was laughing too. “I’ve been so spoiled, Ned, truly. The only thing I want now is to go home with you. To our home,” she added, the tone of her voice such that Ned stopped in his tracks as the desire to kiss her, here in public, was almost overwhelming.
“Miss Honeyfield?”
They turned to see two young women, and an older lady Ned assumed to be their mother, hurrying towards them. Ned stiffened as he took in the finery of the ladies’ apparel. The mother had a fur-lined cloak which only made her ample figure look rather like a ship in full sail as the wind caught it. A gloved hand held it tightly as the other righted her bonnet, so over-trimmed with ribbons, lace, and faux fruit it was a wonder the seagulls hadn’t taken a fancy to it and snatched it from her head.
“It is you,” said one of the young women, an attractive brunette of an age with Grace, whose curious gaze darted between him and his wife.
“It is indeed,” Grace replied easily as she greeted the women. “How do you do?”
The ladies replied that they did very well, thank you, though they were obviously rabid with the desire to know why Grace was walking unchaperoned with a man.
“Mrs Norrell, Miss Norrell, Miss Eliza, may I present my husband to you, Mr Edward Hardy.”
There was a stunned silence.
Ned bowed, too aware of the widening of the women’s eyes and the way they looked him up and down with appalled interest. There was a glint of interest in the young ladies’ expressions, but it was the kind of appraising look they might have given a prize bull, not the kind reserved for a gentleman.
“Hardy?” Mrs Norrell repeated, a nervous edge to her voice. “I don’t think I know any Hardys from these parts. Are your people from—”
“Yes, you do, mama,” said, Miss Eliza, giggling a little. “Mr Hardy owns that sheep farm at Burwash Weald. He bought some land from Papa last year. Didn’t you, Mr Hardy?”
“Aye,” Ned said, nodding, though for a fraction of a second some ridiculous part of his heart urged him to den
y it. Then pride reared its head, and he stood a little taller. He had bought land, and he’d be buying more. He was no pauper, no gentleman, but not a man with nothing to offer either. “That’s right.”
“Oh,” said Mrs Norrell, as she looked from him to Grace and back again with growing horror. “Oh,” she repeated, clearly at a loss. “Well, girls, we mustn’t linger. Papa will wonder where we’ve got to. Good day to you, Mr Hardy, M-Mrs Hardy.”
The women hurried away, the girl’s giggles audible as the wind caught them and delivered them in their wake. Ned gritted his teeth, rigid with tension, and then looked around in surprise as Grace went off into peals of laughter.
“Oh!” she said, clinging to his arm and pressing her free hand to her chest. “Oh, dear, how wretched of me, but I did enjoy that.”
Ned stared at her, nonplussed. “Enjoyed it?” he repeated, indignant and growing angrier by the minute. “They think ye have sunk far beneath their notice. I bet ye anything they cut ye dead the next time ye see them in the street.”
She stilled beside him, her laughter dying away.
“We can only hope,” she said, holding his gaze. “Mrs Norrell is a dreadful woman. Miss Eliza is not so bad, but Miss Norrell is a spiteful cat and I dislike her intensely, and if you think I did not enjoy the envy in their eyes at discovering I’d married such a big, handsome fellow, you have a greater estimation of my character than I deserve.”
Ned snorted and walked on, simmering still. “Envy is not what they were feeling at news of your marriage to me.”
Grace shrugged. “Well, I’m not sure I agree about that, but they are fools if they don’t envy me. Those two are each likely destined for marriage to some chinless, over-bred fool who will ignore them and leave them to the running of house and children whilst he turns his attention to his mistress. If they are lucky, he won’t be cruel, but there is no guarantee of that.”
“They’ll have their rightful place in the world and no one to look down upon them.”
“Oh, Ned,” she said, shaking her head. “Don’t be so naïve. There is always someone to look down upon you. When they go to London, the fashionable and all those who rank above them—of which there are many—will look down upon them as they try to edge their way higher in society.”
He snorted, but said nothing.
They returned to the stables behind The Stag, and Ned set about harnessing the horse ready for the return journey. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop hearing the women’s mocking laughter. It rang in his ears and reproached him for what he’d done in keeping Grace with him. He’d been a selfish bastard.
They were silent as he helped her up into the cart and he cursed himself as he realised how odd it looked for such a fine lady to travel in such a lowly vehicle. He’d have to buy a gig at the very least, something elegant that she’d not be ashamed to be seen in.
The silence pressed down upon him as he guided the horse out of the yard and onto the road and, though he longed to break it, he was too tangled up inside. He was angry with himself, angry with those three awful bloody women, angry at the world as he acknowledged the fact that his wife would undoubtedly come to feel ashamed of him. How would it feel to see that shame in her eyes when he already loved her beyond bearing?
He simmered, his thoughts snarled in a dark morass and Grace let him be for a while.
“Ned.”
He’d been silent for ten minutes or more but he didn’t look around, his throat was tight and he wanted to hit something.
“Ned,” she said again, sliding her arm though his and moving closer to him. “I love you, and no spiteful comments from the likes of silly creatures like Mrs Norrell will change that.”
“P’raps,” he said, the words finding their way past the stiffness in his jaw when he’d wanted to keep them in. “But there’ll be others. People ye liked, people ye respected, and they’ll cut ye dead an’ all. What then?”
“Then I shall feel sorry for their narrowmindedness and congratulate myself on not being them,” she said, though the words were stilted now, a trace of anger running beneath them.
“I ought not have done it,” he carried on, guilt smothering him like a wet wool blanket. His chest tightened, and it was hard to breathe as he made himself consider everything she’d given up by marrying him. “I ought to have found another way. I could have taken ye to people of yer own stamp, those who could have seen ye married to a good man, a—”
“If you say a gentleman, I shall hit you, Edward Hardy.”
He looked around in surprise, startled by the sudden blaze of anger. Since the day they’d met, Grace had been sweet and gentle and shown no signs of temper, but those blue eyes held fury now and he hesitated.
“Don’t you dare presume to tell me what is best for me,” she said, her gaze full of heat and steel. “Don’t you dare tell me I ought to be ashamed of you or my position as your wife! I lived a life where I was constantly afraid, I was locked away from the world, and let me tell you, Ned, a prison is still a prison no matter how gilded the cage may be.” She reached out a hand and raised it to his cheek, turning his face towards her, where he could not escape the raw emotion in her expression.
“You set me free, Ned. For the first time in my life I have hope. I want to live with you and help you with the farm. I want to watch it grow as our family grows with it. I want to have your children and watch them grow into fine people. Perhaps we’ll have sons: good, strong and kind boys like their father, the man I have fallen in love with, with every part of my heart and soul. I want no other, Ned. I want no other life. I want the life I’ve begun to dream of, with you, and if you try to take that from me or make me feel ashamed for wanting it, I shall never forgive you.”
He wanted to believe her, so very badly, wanted everything that she wanted so fiercely it was a pain in his chest, the like of which he’d never known.
“Gracie,” he said, her name catching in his throat. “I just want—”
“I know what you want, you foolish man,” she said in exasperation. “But you must know what I want. Not what you think I ought to have, but what I want, and everything I want is sitting beside me right now, and that won’t change.”
“It might,” he persisted. “The farm’s not—”
“Not a place for a lady,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Do give over, Ned. Did it ever occur to you that I don’t want to be a lady? Do you have any idea how dull it is to be a lady?”
She laughed at his perplexed expression and shook her head.
“I’m happy,” she said simply, gazing up at him with such adoration his heart lurched in his chest. “That’s all, Ned. I’m happy, and if that ever changes, if ever there are things that make me unhappy, I promise to tell you, and then we can see what can be done about them, but I will only make that promise if you swear to do the same.”
“Me? Unhappy?” he said, so bewildered by the idea he gaped at her.
“Well, of course,” she said, and an uncertain look entered her eyes and she turned away from him. “I’m… I won’t be anything like the wife Sarah was to you, will I? I know I’ll never replace her,” she said, sounding awkward and a little diffident. “She was such a help to you, and I shall have so much to learn and I shall make a deal of mistakes. Likely… likely it will be you regretting our marriage soon enough, when you see what a mess I make of your life—”
He was so utterly stunned and outraged at the idea he could ever regret having married her that he didn’t notice the men who appeared from the shadows of the trees on either side of them.
By the time he’d realised what was happening, Grace was screaming as a man pulled her off the cart and two more attacked Ned. One of them delivered a blow to the back of his head that made him see stars, and he fell from the cart, hitting the frozen ground hard.
All he could hear was screaming. Grace was screaming. Fighting past the dazed sensation, he got to his feet just in time to dodge a foot that would have belted him in the gut. Instead, he caught h
old of it and pulled hard, and the man who’d have kicked him fell with a grunt of pain. Before he could make sure he stayed down two more men were on either side of him and Ned knew from the looks in their eyes, they’d come for Grace, and they didn’t mean to leave without her.
Chapter 11
“Wherein the monster returns to threaten everything.”
For a moment, Grace was overwhelmed with terror. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think past the ice gripping her heart and mind. An arm was tight about her throat and she was dragged violently from the cart. She screamed as she saw Ned being attacked on all sides. Three against one, it was so unfair, and fear was a living thing beneath her skin, and then she saw who it was that had her in his grip.
“Harold!” she spat, fury overcoming terror as she looked around into the cold blue eyes of her brother.
“Ah, my dearest sister,” he said, tightening his hold on her throat as he held her still, her back pressed to his chest. “I underestimated you. Who’d have thought you’d be slut enough to ruin yourself with the first fellow you clapped eyes on?”
“I’m not ruined,” she retorted. “I’m married, and if you hurt my husband, I’ll see you hang.”
Harold snorted at that. “I think not. No one will miss that ignorant brute. I doubt he can write his own name, and Carrington still wants you. You’ll not be his wife now, of course, and I’ll get a fraction of what I ought to have gotten, but it seems he still has a use for ruined goods.”
The idea of ever being in Carrington’s company again, of being taken away from Ned, was enough to spur her into action. She stamped on Harold’s foot, hard, so hard he yelped and was startled enough that she could pull out of his hold.
He snatched for her again, and Grace allowed it, remembering the way Carrington had crumpled when, as Ned had said, she’d kneed him in the bollocks. She’d told Ned just moments ago that she did not wish to be a lady, and bearing in mind that a lady would have been expected to swoon in such circumstances, she knew how very right she’d been.
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