“Adrian…please.”
The earl shook his head again, more vehemently this time. “Whether you know it or not, you need me right now, Jillian—and damn it, I need you.” He spoke gruffly as if he were only now realizing that he told the truth.
Adrian rolled off her and pulled her possessively into his arms. Her back facing him, Jillian squeezed her eyes tightly shut, trying to come to terms with the magnitude of what had just happened to her. She ignored the tiny tear that finally managed to escape her control, dripping onto the pillow beneath her head.
*****
CHAPTER 9
The feeling began unhurriedly, no more than a wisp of sensation, rising then ebbing, too nebulous to grasp but too intriguing to ignore. Desire washed over her as if she floated in an ocean of sensuality, water lapping against her skin with a silken touch, tempting her to respond. Through the erotic mist she perceived that the fever was centered in a secret place and it rippled forth in sweet hot waves, filling her with longing.
Jillian moaned aloud and startled herself awake. For a moment she was confused, lost in the seductive dream that still gripped her. She was panting for air and the pleasure, rather than easing with awareness, burst into flame. She moaned again.
Only then did she realize Adrian was still with her. Jillian’s back was to him as it had been when she fell asleep, and he had wrapped himself around her. Now she understood the source of the incredible feelings that scorched her. Adrian had placed his hand between her thighs and, having found an exquisitely sensitive nerve, was stroking her, slowly, rhythmically.
As the reality of the situation finally hit her, Jillian jerked away from him. However, the earl was not so easily dissuaded. He increased his hold, throwing his leg over her hip to forestall her escape.
“Oh no, love, don’t fight it,” he rasped in her ear.
For her very life she could only be grateful that he made it difficult to say no, for the passion Adrian was coaxing from her had an intoxicating effect that begged for completion. He continued to caress her, clearly sure of his methods, and Jillian found herself straining against his hand as she sought what he offered. Over and over he repeated the motion, and she began to move with him, quivering with the effort.
Oh, dear Lord, she thought frantically, her desire swelling out of control, what’s happening to me?
“Come, sweetheart,” she heard him whisper, as though he knew—as though he knew!
At once she was seized by a fiery eruption that flooded her pelvis, shattering what remained of her composure. Overcome by ecstasy, she gasped raggedly. Adrian hugged her tightly to him, rocking with her, and with the part of her that could still think, she sensed that he steeped himself in her release, drawing his own gratification from the unbridled energy flowing from her.
Jillian lay unmoving, dazed. Now spent, she savored the last delightful tremors that radiated through her lower body. Adrian still embraced her, and she knew he was aroused, for she felt the tension in him, could feel his swollen member pressed to her backside. Dragging damp fingers upward, he splayed them on her stomach, easing his hold on the rest of her as he did.
“Now we are even.” He groaned, the statement raw with feeling. He drew in a deep, shaky breath, releasing the air as though he had been through an ordeal.
Jillian came up on her elbow then and turned to look at him. Adrian’s eyes gleamed in the darkened chamber as he stared back at her, his gaze warm with something she could not identify. She opened her mouth to speak but her throat closed inexplicably over the words. Seemed strange after the profoundly intimate moment they had just shared, that her thoughts should be too personal to voice, too painfully revealing. But already her body had betrayed more than she wanted to acknowledge even to herself.
As if understanding her confusion, he placed a tender kiss on her neck, his lips lingering behind her ear but he made no effort to take her. Bemused, Jillian rolled away from him and he reached for the coverlet, pulling it over her shoulder.
Then she slept once more.
*****
Adrian had stayed with Jillian as long as he dared. The servants would be rising soon, and he would be doing her a disservice if he were caught in her room. He eased from the bed, watching her sleeping form as he donned his drawers and breeches.Odd thing was, he didn’t want to leave. In the past sex had been an end unto itself, something to be accomplished before moving on. He was surprised by the tender emotions that had assailed him as he lay awake next to Jillian these last hours while she slumbered.
Arousing her that second time had been a wrenching experience, leaving him drained. He had wanted her again, but not nearly so much as he had wanted her to find the gratification she had been denied when he had taken her maidenhead. In all his adult life he could not remember having put the needs of a partner ahead of his own. Mutual satisfaction was a goal, naturally, although it had never occurred to him to sacrifice his enjoyment for another’s. Still, he had taken Jillian’s virginity, had hurt her, and he couldn’t leave it at that.
If he had left her tonight when she had asked him to, she might have a distorted view of passion, perhaps be afraid. That was the last thing he wanted. When they made love again—and they would, Adrian was determined—he wanted Jillian to come to him eagerly, knowing the pleasure that awaited her. To him, anything less was unacceptable.
Of course, they had not precisely made love the second time, because he worried that he might hurt her again, so he had done the next best thing. How she had pleased him! The lady had a voluptuous nature—something he had already suspected—and he was delighted by her response.
At the door he glanced at her again, wondering how much deeper his motivation went than mere lust.
She looked beautiful in sleep, soft and alluring, with no evidence of the prickly attitude that surfaced whenever she felt vulnerable. Jillian lay on her belly, her glorious dark hair fanned on the pillow, the curve of one breast tantalizingly in view, her arm flung across the spot he had recently vacated. The earl wanted to believe that even unconscious, she had begun to miss him.
The coverlet had slipped, revealing her back, a shapely back. He clenched his teeth. He’d better leave while he still had the strength, he decided, or else he would climb back beneath the blankets and take what he had forfeited not long ago.
Adrian stepped into the corridor, making certain he was not seen, and entered the guest chamber. He fell across the bed, exhausted. Resigned to the knowledge he would get only a few hours sleep, he closed his eyes.
He began to drift as visions of a delectable woman swam through his mind. Yes, he hoped she missed him, he thought drowsily, for right now he damned sure was missing her.
*****
She was alone. Jillian knew immediately, even before she opened her eyes. The sun shone into the room proving morning had arrived, so Adrian had done the only thing he could by leaving. Still she felt abandoned.
She moved gingerly beneath coverlet, aware all at once that she was naked. She groaned into her pillow as the night before came rushing back. Jillian waited for the disgust, the out and out loathing to seize her, but oddly she felt a stirring of desire instead. She sat up, impatient with her reaction. The disgust would have been more appropriate—and more reassuring.
Slipping from the covers she moved across the room to the basin, almost furtively, self-conscious of her unclad state. She wanted a full bath but felt so guilty at the moment, she was afraid to call her maid. Hannah would suspect something was wrong. Washing herself with a cloth would have to do for now.
Jillian began her ablutions, only to stop when she discovered blood on her thighs. Her first response was to glance in horror at the bed. Lord, if she had stained the sheets, how would she explain it? Her menses? It wasn’t time. And as much as her monthly was a private affair, it was hard to keep the secret when her laundry betrayed her.
Dashing across the room, she yanked back the covers. Two tiny drops of blood stained the bottom sheet. The soapy cloth
was still in her hand, and she scrubbed frantically at the spots. The blood faded from the muslin, but now the bedclothing was wet.
She glanced at the clock. Hannah would not be upstairs for an hour. Hopefully the sheets would dry by then. If forced to explain, Jillian decided to say she had spilled a glass of water while sitting in bed. She could already imagine the dubious look on the servant’s face.
Now thoroughly unnerved, she dressed quickly. She put on her old boots so she might leave the house for, though the morning at last promised a sunny day, the surrounding countryside was still a muddy swamp.
At the door she hesitated. She had forgotten something, she knew she had. Jillian sent her regard skimming over the chamber and, sure enough, there by the window seat on the floor was the brandy decanter and two goblets.
In the back of the chiffonier she kept her mending bag, an item she had not touched in a very long time. Perhaps there was room in it for the decanter and glasses, so she might spirit them down to the parlor. Nothing for it, she thought, best give it a try. That task complete, bag in hand, she left her bedchamber. As Jillian stepped into the hall, she glanced at the door across from her. It was slightly ajar and, though she knew better, she could not resist the temptation that open door provided. Looking both ways to make certain she was alone, she crossed the narrow space and peeked into Adrian’s room.
The earl lay on his stomach, crosswise on the bed, apparently in a deep sleep. His face was turned toward her, and her breath lodged in her throat. The dark shadow of a beard covered his jaw, giving him a dangerous aspect, and yet he looked like not much more than a boy, the world-weary expression he wore when awake erased by slumber.
How handsome he was, how fascinating. Few women had the opportunity to be partnered by such a man. Perhaps she should give serious consideration to his offer because what happened last night must not happen again until she was married. And that there might not be another night like last night gave her pause.
Jillian wished she had the courage to join him on that bed right now, wished she could bring herself to tell him how she felt. Would he welcome her? she wondered. Almost certainly he would, and that knowledge made her heart thump wistfully.
Well, she didn’t have the courage, she thought bitterly as she turned for the stairs. All her blatherings about not caring what other people thought was just rubbish meant to keep everyone off balance, from getting too close. She did care, sometimes so much she did not think she could bear the ache. But at least if she pretended well, she had her pride.
Unfortunately, pride was a cold and lonely emotion to take to bed at night, and for the first time due to a handsome man who insisted on showing her how badly she erred, Jillian feared it would not be enough.
*****
The earl awoke with a start. Where was he? He rolled onto his back. Oh yes, now he remembered—last night—and Jillian. Smiling in satisfaction, he yawned and stretched like a lazy tiger.
He was hungry, starving in fact. The clock on the mantel read ten o’clock. Five hours of sleep—not terrible.
Adrian came into a sitting position and ran his hands through his hair. He intended to dress quickly and seek out Jillian. Hopefully he could wedge a hasty meal somewhere in between those objectives.
Less than five minutes and he was on his way to the dining room. Aunt Prudence was there instead of her niece.
“Morning, Aunt Pru,” he said, hiding his disappointment. “Glad to say, I think the storms are all gone.” He heaped a plate at the sideboard and sat down across from the older woman. “How are you today?”
“My joints ache,” Pru said grumpily. “They do that from time to time. And,” here she looked at him rather guiltily, “my head is paining me as well. Why does the end result of something as pleasant as wine have to be so miserable?”
The earl smiled. “Haven’t a clue, my dear.” He paused, a fork of food midway to his mouth. “Where is Jillian this morning?” He took the bite while he waited for an answer.
“Jillian?” She reached up to rub her temple, evidently needing a moment to think. “She has gone out about an hour ago. I wish she had refrained, for I’ve never seen so much mud. I must tell you,” she said, at once sounding petulant which was completely out of character, “I despair of ever getting that young lady to do as she ought.”
Adrian patted her hand. “Not despair, Aunt Pru, never that.” When she did not respond to his gentle teasing, he said more seriously, “Jillian is a fine person who has had a difficult time. It’s painful to be shunned by one’s peers. I can attest to that. She does what she does to spite those who would hurt her. It’s like being in a card game where one is losing—better to toss all the cards in the air, making certain no one wins, rather than accept defeat.”
Pru merely stared at him as though confused.
“Jillian feels she is in a situation she cannot win,” he explained. “People will gossip, that she can’t prevent. But by doing the things she does, she can at least control the direction the talk takes. She decides what people will say and that makes her feel less helpless.”
The old woman’s gaze seemed to clear as she gave him a steely-eyed look, and Adrian was reminded that there was more to this little lady than a vacuous personality.
“You care for my niece, don’t you, young man?”
“Yes ma’am, I believe I do,” he said candidly.
“Do you think she is ready to accept your offer?”
Remembering last night, he grinned. “I hope so.”
Aunt Pru sighed then, appearing to retreat back into her pain. “So do I—for all our sakes.”
Adrian nodded. She had a point.
*****
Amazing how twenty-four hours could make the world seem so different, Jillian thought as she sat on a large rock overlooking her favorite fishing place on Squire Lindley’s property. The rain was gone and overnight she had developed a new perspective on romantic relationships. She felt different—not physically, although she was sore today—but inside, somewhere in the region of her heart.
Was she in love with Adrian? As much as she enjoyed the idea, she was afraid of the condition. To love meant being vulnerable, and she had decided long ago never to be vulnerable again. And how did he feel about her?
The earl had been attentive but that did not mean his feelings went deep, deeper than what he perceived his duty to be. After all, if her brother had not forced the issue, Adrian would not have approached her.
“Will I be forever running you to ground, my love?”
Jillian heard his voice before she saw him, and the insinuating timbre of his words caused the memory of last night to come flooding back in a thrill of excitement. She turned a warm face to him, thinking of those excruciatingly pleasurable moments after he had awakened her in the predawn hours. The look in his eye told her he was remembering the same thing.
Adrian had dismounted, leading his horse into the clearing. His boots were covered in mud much like the previous day but he seemed not to care. Several quick strides brought him to the rock where he joined her.
“Well?” he said as he settled his long frame next to hers, hip to hip.
“I wanted time to think.” She had returned her attention to the stream, but she watched him from the corner of her eye.
“Concerning…?”
“Need you ask?” she managed in a strangled voice.
“I’d rather you were not upset about last night.”
“I’m not upset precisely. Confused is more apt, I think.”
“Do you wish to talk about it?”
“Do you?”
Adrian leaned close to her. “What I wish is to repeat it,” he murmured huskily, “but I’ll talk first if you like.”
Jillian shrugged away from him impatiently. “Can’t you be serious? You make it sound as if we play a game. It’s gone far beyond that now.”
“Yes, it has.”
She looked at him then, for she detected a more sober note to his words. The expressio
n on his face reflected his tone.
“I want you to set a date, Jillian, as soon as possible.”
She felt her stomach plunge to her feet. “Why?”
“Because under the circumstances it becomes appropriate.”
“Under what circumstances?” she asked, at once suspicious.
“Come now, do you wish me to state it baldly?”
“Perhaps you had better do that.”
“It’s clear, isn’t it? We have become lovers, thus we must marry. We’ve done things out of the proper order but no one need know except the two of us.”
“No!” She stared at him appalled, the sudden realization of what he had done striking squarely at her pride. “You—you tricked me!” When he said nothing, she wailed, “Didn’t you?”
“Jillian…”
The earl reached for her as she scrambled from the rock but she dashed his hand away, scraping the back of her leg as she slid to the ground.
“Will you listen to me?” he barked, following her.
She flung around to face him as his feet hit the sodden turf. “Listen to what?—more pretty words?—words that mean nothing?”
“It wasn’t like that, I swear.”
“You had a good laugh at my expense, didn’t you, my lord?” Her voice shook, and she was dismayed to find herself close to tears. “‘Poor old maid, so in need of a man she’d listen to any lie.’ How weak you must have thought me, how pathetic.”
He looked as distressed as she felt. “I’ve never thought you weak or pathetic.”
“Let me see now,” she said, pretending to sound more reasonable. However, a painful lump in her throat distorted her speech. “The plan was that you seduce me, and then I would have to marry you. Do I have it right?”
“Why must we wait?” he asked quietly.
In the Garden of Disgrace Page 15