When the group was finished, they all stood smiling, but none as brightly as she. She could outshine all the stars in the heavens.
Their guests clapped politely. His mother stepped forward. “That was lovely. The servants shall be out shortly with some warm cocoa to take the chill off before you head back to the village.”
“We’ll have carriages readied to take you back,” he said.
“We don’t have enough,” his mother pointed out.
“I’m certain our guests won’t mind lending theirs, but first I have a gift for Miss Connor.”
Linnie’s eyes widened. “Now?”
“I can think of no better time.” He stepped nearer to her. “Actually, I have two gifts for you, but you must choose which one you want.”
“George—” She cleared her throat. “M’lord, you gifted me with an invitation to the ball, which I enjoyed a great deal. Nothing else is needed.”
“Gifts are not necessarily about need, Miss Connor. But rather desire. The desire to give, the desire to receive.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a narrow, slender box. “Please.”
She glanced around, and he knew she was uncomfortable with everyone staring at her. He was even aware of a few of his guests—the ladies in particular—easing forward for a better view. Linnie opened the box and stared down at the iron. “It’s a key.”
“To a shop in London,” he told her.
Her brow furrowed, she looked up at him. “Whereabouts?”
“At the moment, I’m not exactly sure. It’s more symbolic than the actual key. I thought in the new year, we could go to London and scout out exactly what you’re searching for.”
“You can’t give me a shop.”
“I shall front the money for it. When your bakery is successful, you may repay the loan.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “And the interest?”
She would make an excellent proprietor. “None. Just one friend helping another.”
“They say lending money is the quickest way to ruin a friendship.”
“Then we shall prove the exception. You know you want it, Linnie. Don’t be stubborn.”
Her suspicions easing, she smiled brightly and nodded. “It’ll be a while before I can do it on my own. You’re very generous, m’lord. I thank you for the kind offer. I accept.”
“Without seeing the other?”
“To own a shop in London has always been my dream. I don’t need to see the other. You can’t do better than this.”
“Are you sure?”
“Quite.”
He’d expected as much, but still he’d hoped she had other dreams, other desires. Perhaps she did but she thought them unattainable.
“Never settle on one thing without knowing all your options, daughter,” her father said quietly.
She looked at him, before returning her attention to Marsden. “I don’t see that it can be anything I’d want more than this and people are getting cold. Can we make it quick?”
He removed a small square leather box from his coat pocket. She stared at it as though he were offering her a snake. He shook his hand. “Open it.”
She glanced around, before handing the key off to her father. Gingerly, she took the box and slowly lifted the lid. The lady beside her raised her lantern so Linnie could more easily see the ring of diamond and emeralds. Or perhaps the woman wanted a better view for herself.
Linnie closed the box and looked at him sadly. “George, I’ve told you that I can’t accept jewelry from you. It’s not appropriate.”
“I know it’s not. Unless …” He went down on one knee and took her hand. “I love you, Miss Connor. I always have. Will you honor me by becoming my wife?”
The marchioness’s hoarse croak nearly drowned out Linnie’s surprised gasp. “George William St. John, have you gone mad?” his mother shrieked.
“Probably.” He held Linnie’s gaze. “As I can’t imagine she’d choose me over her dream of owning a bakery in London.”
“Honestly, George,” Linnie said, smiling, tears welling in her eyes, catching the lantern light, “you’ve always had such a dismal imagination. I love you so much, you dolt! Yes, I’ll marry you.”
Rising, with a shout of joy, he took her in his arms, swung her around once, and then planted his lips on hers. He heard some claps and cheers in the distance, but mostly he just heard Linnie’s sweet sigh.
He wanted to take the kiss deeper, but that was for later when they were alone. Drawing back, he held her close while he waved a hand toward the manor. “Everyone, inside for some spirits and merriment.”
“You can’t be inviting the villagers inside—through the front door,” his mother said.
“They’re Linnie’s friends. They’ll always be welcomed at Havisham.”
His mother sounded as though she were drowning. He was rather certain she was going to need her smelling salts before the night was done.
“You promised to choose one of the ladies from my list,” the marchioness said, her voice seething with betrayal.
“I promised to consider them, which I did. They bored me. Not once did any of them make me laugh. None were willing to give up their warm bed to ensure that those in need didn’t go hungry on Christmas. You wanted me to choose someone based on the circumstances of her birth. I wanted someone who didn’t judge me on the circumstances of mine.”
“She’ll never be accepted by Society.”
“In all honesty, Mother, I care not. I want to be what you and my father never were. Happy. And Linnie has always made me happy.”
With that his mother harrumphed and marched into the residence.
“Are you sure about this, George?” Linnie asked.
He smiled at her. “I’ve been sure since I was twelve years old.”
“You could have said something to me earlier.”
“The day I met you, you declared rather convincingly that you’d never marry. Through the years, you never changed your tune on that.”
“Because I always thought you beyond reach.”
“Yet here I am, close enough to touch.”
After glancing around, she returned her gaze to his, looked deeply into his eyes. “Now that we’re alone, could we have a proper kiss, do you think?” she asked.
As the snow floated around them, he lowered his mouth to hers.
They were married in the spring, in the church in the village. All of the villagers and perhaps a dozen of the nobility attended the ceremony. Linnie’s father had escorted her down the aisle to the altar where her handsome betrothed waited for her. Lady Marsden had sat unsmiling in the first pew. Linnie was determined to win her over, although since Marsden had moved his mother to a dower house in London, they wouldn’t be spending that much time together. Already the marchioness was on her way there, having left shortly after the breakfast celebration following the exchange of vows.
In all honesty, Linnie was rather glad. Tonight was her wedding night, and she was grateful to have the residence to herself and Marsden. They’d spent the late afternoon and early evening touring the rooms, kissing in every one. Now wearing a diaphanous white nightdress, she waited for him in her bedchamber. He’d purchased her a new wardrobe that included silk undergarments. She couldn’t quite get used to the fact that she was the lady of this grand residence, now a marchioness. Her father wasn’t quite comfortable with her elevated position, but he wanted her to be happy. She knew that with Marsden she would be.
The door that separated his bedchamber from hers opened. He wore a silk dressing gown, a narrow V revealing a portion of his chest, a chest she would soon be running her fingers over. She shifted her stance, suddenly wondering if she should have waited for him in the bed instead of standing beside it.
“You didn’t bother with slippers?” he asked.
“I didn’t want you to have to waste time taking them off.”
“This is a drafty old place, Linnie. You have to keep yourself warm.”
“That’s your jo
b, to keep me warm. Now get to it.”
Laughing, he took her in his arms and gave her a kiss that heated her to the core. They’d managed to sneak in a thousand kisses before today. Each one left her anticipating her wedding night. She wouldn’t have objected if it had come early, but he was so blasted worried about her reputation, about not ruining her, about ensuring she was respected as she deserved.
“I have wanted you so badly for so long,” he whispered near her ear.
“You’ve shown remarkable restraint.”
“You’ve no idea.” Leaning back, he held her gaze. “The first time, might be rather quick.”
“It can be clumsy and awkward as well and I won’t care. I just want to be with you. I have for the longest.”
Without taking his gaze from hers, he began unfastening her buttons. Reaching out, she untied his sash. The material parted and she was viewing considerably more than his chest. “My word.”
He grinned. “Hopefully you’ll be saying that a good deal tonight.” He slid her gown off her shoulders. It slithered along her body, pooled at her feet. “Dear God.”
She smiled bashfully. “Hopefully you’ll be saying that quite often tonight.”
“You are so beautiful, Linnie. Not a knobby knee in sight.” He shrugged off his dressing gown, lifted her into his arms, and carried her to the bed. When he tossed her onto the mattress, she laughed, welcoming him with open arms as he followed her down.
He stole her laughter with a thorough kissing that caused every aspect of her body to curl. He was as hungry for her as she was for him. On some level, she thought she should be more demure, but this was George. They knew everything about each other, everything except for this.
But she was learning so quickly the feel of the hair on his legs as she ran the sole of her foot along his calf. The firmness of the muscles along his back as she scraped her fingers up them, the way they quivered when he moved. The eager thrusting of his tongue as he deepened the kiss, as he left no part of her mouth untouched. The roundness of his buttocks as she cupped her hands over each firm cheek. The way he growled and groaned. The enticing manner in which his breathing hitched.
The way he slid his mouth from hers and closed it around one nipple as his hand kneaded her breast, sending warm shivers cascading through every inch of her body. He made her feel delicate yet powerful. Her skin tingled with incredible sensations. How was it that even the places he hadn’t yet touched seemed more alive, more aware, more sensitive?
He eased down, dotting kisses along each rib as he went, slowly lowering himself until he reached her navel, circling his tongue around it, looking at her with a smoldering hunger burning in his eyes. She plowed her fingers through his hair, closed her legs around his hips, squeezed. “You’re making me feel marvelous,” she whispered.
“You’re going to feel even better.”
He pushed himself down farther until he was blowing cool air across her curls. She wondered if she were a wanton because there was no part of herself that she didn’t want him to see, to touch. She wished to share every aspect of her body with him.
“Do you ever touch yourself here?” he asked, his voice throaty.
Biting down on her lower lip, she nodded. “Sometimes when I think of you, late at night when I’m abed and all is quiet.”
His grin was one of satisfaction and wickedness. “I stroke my cock when I think of you.”
“Do you think of me when you’re with other women?”
“There was only that one time I mentioned. To be quite honest, I wasn’t doing a good deal of thinking.”
“You said it went quickly. More quickly than this?”
“Much more quickly. I didn’t take the time to explore her, to get to know her body, to learn what pleased her. But then I didn’t love her. She wasn’t the sort who required love, only coin. While it felt good, in the end, it left me wanting.”
“I don’t want to leave you wanting.”
“You couldn’t if you tried.” Lowering his head, he stroked his tongue over the silken flesh.
Her eyes rolled back in her head; she released a languid sigh, which served to spur him on. He licked and suckled. Nipped and caressed. With his mouth, he worked wonderful magic, causing pleasure to riot through her. His fingers toyed with her nipples. She wrapped her hands around his wrists, because she needed something to anchor herself as it all became too much. Her thighs trembled, her hips strained to be nearer to him. She hovered on the edge of ecstasy. So close, so close …
Her cry echoed around them as pleasure ripped through her, hard, fast, intense. She was gasping for air, her body trembling uncontrollably. Before she’d fully returned from the summit, he’d slid up to hover over her and thrust his cock inside her. He stretched her, filled her. She was so enthralled by the feeling of him pounding into her that she barely noticed the slight discomfort. It was so brief. Then the marvelous sensations once again rippled through her as he rocked against her.
She skimmed her hands over his chest, his back, down to his buttocks. Back up and over. She couldn’t get enough of touching him. She loved the way his hair flopped against his brow, the way he kept his gaze on her, the heat burning in his eyes.
“Scream for me again, Linnie,” he rasped.
The pleasure took hold, undulated through her with each thrust. She was climbing, ascending. “Scream with me.”
He moved faster, harder. She rocked her hips, in tandem with his movements. Her scream of release was quickly followed by his low growl as he arched back and jerked forcefully before going still, breathing harshly.
He lowered his face to the curve of her neck, placed a gentle kiss against her skin. “I love you.”
“As well you should, m’lord.”
Laughing, he rolled off her and brought her up against his side. “I was hoping to make it last all night for you.”
She trailed her finger over his chest. “We can do it again, though, can’t we?”
“Hmm, yes, but I need a moment to recover.”
“I’m glad your mother wasn’t here to hear me crying out.”
“I like that you’re so vocal in your enjoyment.”
“Do you think ladies of quality make that much noise?”
“You’re a lady of quality.”
“I never want you to regret marrying me, George.”
With his finger tucked beneath her chin, he tipped her face up until she was looking in his marvelous green eyes. “How could I ever regret marrying my dearest friend?”
“I think we’re very fortunate to have each other.”
“And now I’m ready to have you again.”
She laughed as he went about doing just that.
Chapter 8
Christmas, 1851
Through the years, the Christmas Eve ball at Havisham Hall had become a much anticipated affair. Marsden had expected this year’s to be cancelled as Linnie was nearing the time when she should go into seclusion before giving birth, but she had insisted she was up to the task of hosting the annual celebration. He was grateful for the opportunity to dance with her in his arms, even if he couldn’t hold her as close as he’d have liked.
She was more beautiful than ever, her smile bright, her blue eyes twinkling. “Look merry, George.”
“I am.”
“No, you’re worried. I told you that I’m feeling fine.” She gave a quick grimace. “Except this son of yours is such a kicker. I fear he is going to be a handful, always getting into things. I don’t think he’s going to be very good at sitting still.”
“I don’t think that’ll be a problem. He has all of Havisham through which he can roam.”
“He’s going to run through it. I sense it. What do you think of naming him Killian? It’s a strong name, and I like it.”
“Then we’ll name him Killian, although I suspect he’ll be addressed by his courtesy title more than anything. Viscount Locksley.”
“Locksley is an awfully big name for a little one.” Her smile turned
sad. “I wish our parents were here to see him born.”
Cancer had taken the marchioness two years after they married. A year later, Linnie’s father had finished baking the day’s bread and gone to take a nap. He never awoke.
“I’m certain they’ll be looking down from heaven,” he told her.
“I didn’t think you believed in anything as whimsical as all that.”
“I’ll believe if doing so will return your smile.”
“You spoil me, m’lord.”
He tried. He loved her so much. More each day. His mother had been incorrect. The ton had come to accept Linnie, no doubt because of her generous heart and kindness. And she was just damned fun. She made him laugh, brought joy into his life, made him a better man.
The music stopped. Linnie took in a deep breath. “I must sit for a while.”
He escorted her to a chair. He’d barely stepped back before two ladies rushed over to see how their hostess was faring. Yes, she was quite loved by the aristocracy.
He wandered through the room, carrying on small conversations here and there, making an introduction when one was needed. But he kept his attention focused on Linnie, wanted to be at her side in a wink if she signaled that she needed anything.
He ascended the stairs to the landing and gazed out over the ballroom. His mother would not have been pleased to see that it was more crowded than any ball she’d ever given. People loved experiencing the joy that circulated through Havisham now that a different marchioness was at the helm.
He was soon joined by Ashebury and Greyling, who handed him a tumbler of scotch.
“Up for billiards?” Ashebury asked.
“I don’t want to wander that far from Linnie.”
“You’re worrying overmuch.”
“Her time is near. We probably shouldn’t have had this ball.”
“Penny had the servants redoing the nursery the day before she gave birth,” Ashebury said.
The ball where the Undecided Lords decided had turned out to be exactly that. Ashebury had married Lady Penelope six months later. Greyling had taken Lady Edith to wife a month after that.
Making Merry with the Marquess Page 7