She leaned away from him and tugged at his lapels. “Your coat.”
He aided her in removing his topcoat, waistcoat, and shirt, groaning when she pressed her body to his naked torso.
The feel of her soft breasts pressed against his chest was incredible, and he ran his hands down her bare back, her hips, and her thighs. He wanted to imprint his love upon her body, so she never forgot that she was his or he was hers.
Her lips trailed kisses up his shoulder to his neck, and she brushed her lips under his ear, darting her tongue against the lobe, her warm breath burning against his neck. He hissed and dug his fingers into her hips as she began to suckle. She had become freer in their bed, but their confession seemed to melt away any remaining inhibitions.
His hands slipped into her hair where his agile fingers loosened the pins and pulled her face back to his. “I love you,” he rasped.
His kiss was not gentle, but desperate, just as he had been desperate to hear those words from her. She did not back away or behave as if intimidated by his intensity, but met him as an equal, kissing him as ardently as he was her.
“I love you,” she whispered when he released her mouth.
He scraped his teeth down her ear lobe and she whimpered. The familiar noise was not fear or pain, but one she made when aroused, which only served to excite him more. With the advice he was given fresh in his mind, his fingers inched their way up her thigh until he touched between her legs; she stiffened and pulled back.
“Do you trust me?”
Without saying a word, she nodded, so he brought her forehead to his where he maintained eye contact as he rubbed down and back. He had no idea if his actions were correct until he stroked a spot that made her jump.
“There?”
She appeared alarmed rather than aroused. “I do not know what that was.”
His thumb continued to brush the spot, and she began to make small vocalisations as her eyes fluttered closed. Continuing with his thumb, he inserted a finger and pressed around until her eyes popped open, and she gasped, followed by a deep moan.
“Shhhh, else all of the staff will know what we are doing.” Her cheeks turned crimson and she bit her lip. She had misunderstood. “Please do not hold back. We will both need to ensure we do not become too loud.”
“But…”
He began his ministrations once more. “No, I want you to be honest in your reactions. I want to know what you enjoy.”
With a shaky breath, her eyes rolled back and closed as he watched, fascinated by her ardent response. Her face contorted as though she were about to cry, her lips were parted, and her body arched towards him. Her breaths came in uneven gasps, and her fingernails dug painfully into his sides.
She was so beautiful, so passionate, and she was his wife. He was so lucky to find her! She stiffened, made an inarticulate cry, and her head dropped to rest against his shoulder, Unsure if she was well, he ceased the movement of his fingers for a moment, but she shifted against them.
“Please do not stop yet,” she mumbled. He chuckled softly and continued until she placed her hand on his arm, halting his movement.
His head dropped back onto the sofa as her heavy breaths filled the air. Could he do this while inside of her? The feel of her as she peaked had been incredible and inspired him to try.
A movement between them redirected his attention to where her small hands attempted to unbutton the fall of his breeches. The cool air of the room hit his bare skin, and he grasped her hand to place it in the opening.
Her hand, covered by his, stroked his length several times, and he moaned. “I want you now, Elizabeth. This only makes matters more urgent.”
She drew back, stood, and pulled him up to stand. After taking a few steps back, she shed what remained of her clothing and lay on the carpet by the empty fireplace, holding up her arms and beckoning him to her. He removed his trousers and lowered himself into the warm cradle of her thighs.
“I love you.” She murmured the words as she trailed her lips along his collarbone and neck, which incited gooseflesh down his back. Her hands reached up and pulled his face to hers where he answered her unspoken plea and claimed her lips.
Her hands slipped up his sides to his back as he slipped himself inside her. She had always felt warm, but today she was aflame. He fell into a rhythm, and unlike before, her hips surged to meet his while her hands moved down to his buttocks, where they pulled him further in with each thrust. Each puff of breath she exhaled, coincided with each swift movement he made, a small cry escaping her lips every time.
His satisfaction with their prior intimacy was surpassed as they continued; he had not been aware it could be like this. Elizabeth’s legs wrapped around his hips, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he attempted to stave off his completion. She had to peak around him!
His angle shifted slightly and she gasped, digging her nails painfully into his skin.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No!”
Her tone provoked him to thrust harder and faster. She met him at every push, and he had no choice but to shout for joy when he heard her cry as she tightened rhythmically around him. The experience was more amazing than expected as his voice joined hers, echoing off of the wooden panelling.
He collapsed onto her warm, damp body. “So much for keeping the household unawares.”
“So that is what was missing.”
He propped himself on his elbows to take in her expression. “What do you mean missing?”
Her face paled, and she brought her hands up over her eyes. “I did not realise I had spoken aloud. Please forgive me.” She removed her hands and put her palms to his cheeks. “Please.”
“I am not angry, Elizabeth, though I am disappointed you found something lacking and never mentioned it.”
“At first, I believe I was too sore to feel as I did today. When that disappeared, I attributed it to my own inexperience.”
His heart dropped as his head fell to her shoulder. “How long was I hurting you?” he asked in a low voice.
“Only the first few nights. It has been awkward since then.”
“Why did you never tell me?”
“Fitzwilliam.” She pulled his face up so she was eye to eye with him. “I never disliked our intimacy. I loved kissing you and the manner in which you touched me. You were always so gentle, too.” Her cheeks reddened as she held his gaze. “I also found a great deal of satisfaction in pleasing you.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but she interrupted. “Did you not derive satisfaction in bringing me pleasure today?”
He nodded his head, and she grasped his face between her palms once more. “I know you did. I could see your joy.”
“Yes, but…”
“No,” she insisted. “I always enjoy the feel of you against me, I quiver inside as your hands caress my body, and I rejoice in seeing your completion.”
“But you felt as though something were missing.”
She released an exasperated exhalation. “There was always an ache that was temporarily assuaged when we joined, but when things were done, the sensation remained.”
He began to roll away, but she tightened her legs around him. “You will not leave until we discuss this.”
“I promise not to leave.” He wrapped his arm around her and rolled them both to their sides. “Please forgive me.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but he placed a finger over her lips. “I was just as inexperienced as you when we were first together.”
Her eyes widened. “I have heard enough to know most men are not innocent upon their marriage. How?”
He brushed several curls back from her face. “I do not wish to go into detail, but one reason was so Wickham never had such information to use against me, and the other was that I had cleaned up too many of his messes. I never wanted to wreak the same havoc he did.
“Today, Richard reminded me of conversations about intimacy for which I had been present—other men joking, telling bawdy joke
s, and speaking of their experiences. I refused to consider using anything I had ever heard—most of their stories did not include wives.”
“And he changed your mind?”
“He suggested that perhaps those men would not have mistresses if they took the time to please their wives.”
She chuckled and traced her fingers down his chest. “It could be valid to some relationships.”
“I am sure it is.” He ran his hand through her curls, and she tilted her head to brush her lips against his. She appeared upset with him, but when she returned his kiss she let him know without words that nothing was amiss.
“After we confessed our feelings to one another, I found I had more confidence to try. When you began to respond, I decided to go one step further. Your face when you began to enjoy it, was indescribable.”
She blushed and averted her eyes. “I would think I appeared ridiculous.”
“Far from it.” He combed his fingers through her curls once more. “You were beautiful. Seeing you enjoy yourself, and the noises you make add to my experience.” She blushed and buried her head into his chest as he grinned. “I am sorry I did not attempt more before now.”
She shook her head. “You should not apologise. It means a great deal to me that you waited for marriage. We will learn together, which I imagine would mean at times, things may not work as well as others.”
“I believe I married a very wise woman but promise me we will be more open with one another. No more concealment.”
“I promise.” She arched her eyebrow. What mischief was she about to impart? “Just do not forget I am so wise, dear husband, and I believe things will be well.”
Fitzwilliam’s happy laugh reverberated through the room as he rolled back on top of her. “You are a minx, wife.” She giggled and pulled his head down for a kiss.
He made certain the master and mistress were not seen by most of the household until dinner that evening; however, Hattie’s search for a salve for the mistresses back was bound to have raised more than a few eyebrows below stairs.
“We have been unable to locate Gardiner, sir.” A man dressed in a suit similar to one worn by a tradesman stood in a lavish study while his employer puffed at his cigar. “I have men stationed near his rooms in Cheapside as well as the last places he found employment. He has ventured nowhere near his typical haunts. I have even remained in his usual pub every evening for the last month. He has simply disappeared.”
“No one simply disappears,” said the man behind the desk. He took a long drag on his cigar as he examined his employee. “Gardiner has no doubt eschewed his usual practices. You need to search the slums.”
The man was taken aback. “You believe he would hide there?”
“It is what I would do rather than remain in the open where I could be easily found.” He poured himself a glass of cognac and took a sip. “I want Gardiner. He will pay for being so careless with my money.”
He swirled the amber liquid around the wide bowl of the glass, his last tumbler of French cognac until he found a new smuggler. Damn Gardiner and his ineptitude! He could not abide the pale, cheap versions most suppliers claimed were authentic.
“Men who cannot pay their debts do not deserve to live.” He spoke in a casual tone, not as though he were speaking of someone’s life.
“Spread out your search. Hire more men if you require them, but find Gardiner.”
“Yes, sir,” squeaked the employee, who rushed from the room.
Thomas Grayson sat against the back of his seat and smiled, his nature evident in his expression. “I know what became of the young woman you were to bring me, Gardiner.” He stood and stared out of the window into the darkness beyond. “I made arrangements to sell her to a duke for a hefty sum based on her description. You now not only owe me a great deal of money, but you have also made me a fool.”
Chapter 15
As she took a short-cut through the trees, Elizabeth looked over her shoulder to where her husband and Homer drew near.
“I wish you would not ride ahead,” he scolded. “I do not like it when I cannot see you. When we have ridden longer, it may not bother me so much, but you have only been riding again for a few weeks.”
“Long enough for me to get a feel for Page, and I only wished for a bit of a race.” She gave him the mischievous look he favoured, and he shook his head.
They emerged from a copse of trees and crossed a field. Fitzwilliam rode ahead to a gate along the fence line and dismounted to open it, so she could pass through. She had not wished to go jumping yet, and he had confessed he was relieved since she had not been in the saddle for almost a year. As a result, their rides were planned accordingly, ensuring there were gates or ways around certain fields and pastures.
The roof of their beloved Sagemore was visible in the distance. Elizabeth looked back to ensure her husband was once again in the saddle and then urged Page forward, setting off for the small wood ahead. Homer’s hooves pounded the ground behind her when she cornered her horse to disappear into the trail. She pulled back on the reins to slow within the trees, but was unprepared for when Page reared.
Gasping, she gripped the pommels with her thighs and leaned forward, as she had been taught, managing to keep her seat when his front legs landed back on the ground; however, he immediately lifted himself again and emitted a shrill whinny. She responded as before, but pulled back the reins when he began to lower in the hopes that asking him to reverse might halt his actions. He took a few steps back, stomping wildly, before rearing again. What had frightened him so?
Her husband yelled her name from behind, but she had no time to consider his alarmed tone or location. She was too focused on her attempt to rein in her horse.
The last rear unseated her, and she landed with a thud on the ground, her behind smarting when it made contact with the hard earth. She was too close to Page’s hindquarters! She cried out as she scurried backward, not rotating to all fours in order to keep the horse within her sights, but strong arms wrapped around her abdomen and pulled her from the ground. Her back was shoved against a tree and Fitzwilliam pressed himself against her while Page stomped and bucked before he took off up the trail.
“Page!” she cried, as she lunged after him.
“No!” Fitzwilliam grabbed her upper arm. “He will most likely return to the stable, and we do not know what scared him so.”
“He is normally such a docile animal.”
“I have seen Page buck but once, and his odd behaviour was due to a bee sting. Without a doubt, his actions are very out of character.” He crept forward and picked up a stick from the brush as he came closer to where the scuffle had occurred. “An adder!” He picked up the dead snake with the stick and held it aloft. “It is no wonder he became unhinged.”
“What if it bit him?”
“We will have to treat the leg and rest it, but he will recover. A creature as large as a horse does not have as severe a reaction to the bite as we would.”
She nodded, still uneasy, and began to tremble.
“Elizabeth?” Her husband stepped in her direction and placed his hands on her arms. “You are shaking. We must get you back to the house. I can go ascertain if Page…”
“No,” she interrupted. “I want to go to the stables with you. I have to be assured he is well.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes, I must know whether he was bitten.”
“Very well.” He placed his arm around her shoulders and held her to him as they approached Homer. His hands gripped her waist, he lifted her into his saddle, and he mounted, seating himself just behind the cantle. While in her husband’s embrace, they made their way back to the stables. As they cleared the last of the trees, Johns hurried towards them.
“I was just goin’ to send someone out to be sure Mrs. Darcy was not hurt,” he called. “Did he bolt when you were not on his back?” Fitzwilliam pulled Homer to a stop and dismounted, helping her off after him.
“No, Mrs. Darcy
rode ahead into the trees between the Randall and Benson houses. When I followed, he was rearing and stomping. We discovered after he fled that they came across an adder.”
“I thought it odd he showed up without his rider. You are well, are you not, Mrs. Darcy?”
She nodded, still attempting to control the shaking she had been experiencing since the fall. “Yes, thank you, but I am very concerned about Page at the moment. We must inspect his legs for snake bites.”
“Yes, we should,” Johns agreed. He led them towards where the large gelding was tethered. He had been unsaddled, brushed, and was attempting to steal a few leaves from an overhanging branch.
“It took some time to get him calm, but Joe walked him around until he cooled and stopped blowing so hard.” He bent over and ran his hands down one long front leg to the hoof, where he carefully ran his fingers through the hair. Her husband did the same to the other, and she held out her hand to Page’s face.
“Shhhh, all is well, boy.”
He smelled her hand, his warm breath fanning against her palm. She gingerly stroked his nose and then scratched his cheek. His head leaned into her palm, and her other hand joined the first, each on one side of his face.
She continued to pet him, keeping him calm until Johns and her husband both rose.
“I cannot find anything.”
“Neither can I,” replied Johns. “I will make certain there is no swelling before I lock up tonight. It might be best, ma’am, not to ride him for a few days. I do not think it will take long for anything to show if he was bitten, but we will not take chances.”
“Of course; I would not want to cause him any harm.” She leaned forward and kissed Page on the nose. “I will be sure to bring you a carrot tomorrow when I visit you.” She said the words softly, but her husband chuckled.
“He was already a big baby, and now, you are going to spoil him.”
“I am not,” she said defensively. “He had a fright. It will not spoil him to coddle him a little.” Both men laughed, and she gave a huff. “Please notify me if he shows any signs he was bitten. I believe I shall return to the house.” She strode off in the direction of the bridge, and Fitzwilliam followed.
An Unwavering Trust Page 23