by Sarah Winn
She heard Neil say, “If you're still interested in jumpers, you should take a look at Squire Culpepper's excellent stock.”
Malvern halted his fork in midair. “Culpepper? Which neighbor is he?”
“He's to the north. The biggest estate in the area.”
With a nod, Malvern said, “I think I remember him. He has two daughters, one of them a cripple.”
Neil seemed taken aback. “Miss Effie has a built-up shoe, but she's not incapacitated.”
Noting the edge in Neil's voice, Prudence decided an interruption was in order. “The squire had a small dinner party shortly after we arrived to introduce us to some of the neighbors. He was very hospitable.”
“Perhaps we can invite him here. Now that I'm a married man and don't have to dodge his eligible daughters, I'd like to get to know him better.”
“His elder daughter is married now,” she said, not sure how to react to his reference to their marriage.
After taking a sip of port, Neil rejoined the conversation. “I'm sure the squire would welcome us anytime, and he can give good advice about hiring people.”
“Yes,” Prudence added, “they recommended the cook we have now.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Malvern said, seeming sincere. “Neil, why don't you and I ride over there tomorrow?”
After making sure everything in the back of the house was settled for the night, Prudence hurried up to her bedroom. Hazel helped her get undressed and offered to brush her hair, but Prudence dismissed the girl and took on the task herself. She felt sure Malvern would come to her room tonight and knew Hazel's presence would make an awkward situation more so.
She told herself her only interest was proving to Malvern that she fully intended to do her wifely duty, but memories of their time together at Wildwood Lodge caused her anticipation to build. Would he be as tender with his lovemaking now as he had been then?
Removing the pins from her hair, she brushed it vigorously as she reminded herself how heartless he had been after their week of bliss. That was the true reflection of his character. Any man might play the gentle lover to obtain his own pleasure. She mustn't let herself believe achieving physical pleasure had anything to do with true feelings. Some women might be deceived by such actions, but she wouldn't be.
Hearing voices in the adjoining room, she dropped the hairbrush and jumped to her feet, thinking she'd be more at ease if she was already in bed when Malvern came into the room. Her excitement grew as she moved to the wall sconce near her dressing table. Using the snuffer that hung from the back of the sconce, she reached up and extinguished one of the candles.
A soft knock sounded on the door. Prudence paused with the snuffer still in the air and called, “Come in.”
The door opened and Malvern hurried toward her. “Let me help you.”
His hand closed over hers, his warm body lightly touched her back as he took the snuffer from her and moved it to the next candle. When all the candles were out and the snuffer replaced, he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her firmly against his chest. He rubbed his cheek against her hair and softly murmured, “I've missed holding you like this.”
And she had missed being held, she realized as the vague excitement she had been feeling turned into definite passion.
He nimbly undid the buttons of her wrapper and then moved his hands over the thin linen of her gown. One of his hands closed over her breast and the other spread across her abdomen and pulled her hips so close that she felt the firmness of his manhood pressing into her backside.
He massaged her breasts and abdomen. With a sigh, she rested her head against his shoulder and let her body take control, moving her hips from side to side and pressing back against his firmness.
He groaned softly and broke the contact between them. With a few deft moves, he sent her robe and her gown rippling to the floor. Still behind her, he again pulled her against his body. Her bare flesh welcomed the downy softness of his velvet robe. As his hands closed around her breasts, she writhed against him.
He pinched and rolled one nipple and pulled her hips against him until she felt a velvet ridge filling the crevice between her buttocks. His fingers slipped between her legs, touched the little nubbin that sent shock waves through her, and moved on to part her already moist lower lips. Prudence gave in to the hot pleasure his hands delivered, moaning softly as she moved and pressed and strained in search of more.
In a husky voice, Malvern murmured, “Yes, this is the passionate Prudence I've dreamed about.”
She reached back, giving him full access to her body and pulling him even closer. Concentrating on his ministering hand, she let the fires he fed consume her and moaned in joyous release.
Resting her head limply against his chest, she felt him kissing her neck, cheek, and ear. “Did you like that, sweetheart?”
“Um huh,” she breathed. Turning in his arms, she said, “And now I want to please you.” She easily opened his robe and found him naked as she'd hoped he would be. His manhood jutted out eagerly. She closed both hands around it and moved them back and forth, as far as the tight skin would allow. “Do you like this?”
His breath exploded through lips that formed an “Oh!” and lines gathered around his eyes as if he were in pain. “Wait—not yet—the bed.”
He grabbed her arms. When she resisted his attempt to remove her hands, he began backing toward the bed, pulling her with him. His posture was awkward and his steps stiff. Knowing that she was now causing him to lose control made her laugh.
Through gritted teeth, he managed to say, “You'd better stop, unless you want me to spill my seed on the carpet.”
The thought of having to explain such a stain to Hazel or Polly caused her hands to spring away. In two steps he swung her around and tipped her onto the bed. Climbing over her, he said, “Now I'll put it where it should go.”
She greeted him eagerly and he slipped inside her. Propping on his elbows, he began slow strokes in and out. She could see his brow knit in concentration and knew he was once again trying to control her reactions. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him down and pressed her lips to his. When his tongue advanced, she sucked it into her mouth and caressed it with her own.
His deep groans vibrated into her mouth as his body began to pump faster and rougher. When he was truly out of control, she let herself go and spiraled with him through fiery skies until she convulsed and cried out, “Oh, Anthony, Anthony.”
Her body relaxed and she felt his weight on top of her, his hot slick flesh withdrawing from her. She had just called him by his first name. She had resisted doing that in the past, wanting to keep a level of formality between. Had something just changed?
He rolled onto his back and sighed with contentment.
She nestled against his body with her cheek resting on his chest, marveling over the magical way their bodies responded to each other. She had rejected her tender feelings for him, which had developed during their week at Wildwood Lodge, by telling herself it stemmed from her reaction to this new type of physical intimacy. Once the newness wore off, she'd expected their lovemaking to become a routine part of their relationship, not the soul-sharing experience she'd just had.
Malvern ran his hand over her bare shoulder. “I knew a good tussle between the sheets would make things right between us.”
No. Nothing had changed. “Why—why is it like this with us?”
“I've never been the kind of man who cares only for my own enjoyment. I learned early on that part of my pleasure comes from my partner's.”
As the words “never been” and “early on” rumbled through her mind, her feelings of contented euphoria totally fled. “So, you can cause any woman to react the way I just did?”
“Well, no. Each woman has her own passionate nature, and yours is commendable.”
Prudence rolled away from him and stared up at the canopy covering the bed. “Are you saying I'm a wanton?”
Malvern raised himself
on one elbow and looked down at her with a startled expression. “Certainly not. You are my wife, so our actions are proper. I'm glad we're compatible in this way. Aren't you?”
How foolish she was, thinking something special caused the response between their bodies. She was just the current end of a long line of women he'd driven into lust. And what more could she expect? After all, he thought her no better than a thief for tricking him into marriage.
Realizing he still waited for an answer, she took a deep breath and told herself to get used to this arrangement of being polite to each other during the day and passionate during the night. “Of course, I'm glad. It would be a terrible bore to do this night after night and not enjoy it.”
He nodded and lay back against the pillow.
She suddenly wished to be alone. “With the Baileys in the house, I told Hazel to wake me early in the morning. You might want to return to your room so you won't be disturbed.”
Creases formed between his eyes as he looked over at her. He took a deep breath—was it a sigh? Then a stiff smile pulled at his lips. He got out of bed, retrieved his robe, and looked down at her while slipping it on. “I would like to sleep in tomorrow. Thank you for warning me.”
Had he wanted to stay? Of course not. Perhaps he'd wanted a little more time to catch his breath after their physical activity, but he cared nothing about snuggling after the fact. She had to keep reminding herself that his skill in lovemaking had nothing to do with his feelings, only his pleasure.
To forget that would leave her open to more heartbreak.
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* * *
Chapter 17
True to Neil's prediction, Squire Culpepper warmly welcomed his unexpected visitors the next day. In fact, Malvern was a bit embarrassed that a man he barely remembered treated him as though he were some long lost friend.
As the three men strolled though the stables examining the horses, the squire pointed to a sorrel mare and said, “And this pretty filly is a direct descendant of your father's Epsom winner, Warrior Heart.”
Malvern paused to rub the mare's head. “You knew my father well, then?”
“We became friends over time. Your father had just inherited his property when I moved into Aysbeck Dale determined to turn myself into a country gentleman. He was too polite to tell me the very expensive horses I'd bought were really hacks. Instead he let me discover that for myself, by besting me in a number of races.
“After losing a considerable amount of money, I finally admitted to myself that he knew more about horses than I and started taking his advice on improving my stock. Now this horse—” He pointed to the next stall, and they moved on.
When the tour was over, the squire invited them to the house for tea.
“We wouldn't want to impose on your daughter,” Neil said.
“Nonsense,” the squire replied. “She knows you're here and will be hurt if I don't bring you back to the house.”
From the hot tea, sandwiches and biscuits that awaited them back in the parlor, Malvern could see that they had indeed been expected. While Miss Culpepper greeted him most respectfully, she was obviously far more interested in Neil, who sat in the chair closest to her and quickly offered his assistance in passing out cups and plates. She accepted his attention with reddened cheeks and downcast eyes. Malvern recognized a courtship in progress.
Good for Neil. Perhaps he'd finally found the solution to his money problems and would stop being Malvern's burden.
Hoping to give the lovebirds a bit of privacy, he began to question the squire about possible help he could recruit from the neighborhood for cleaning the streambed. Culpepper seemed pleased that Malvern planned to do this and advanced a number of possibilities, including the fact that his southern neighbor, Bodkin, would undoubtedly lend Malvern a dredge he used on his portion of the stream.
“I received a letter from that gentleman complaining about my lack of attention to the matter. Are you sure he'll be willing to help?”
“Oh, absolutely. He's a neighborly sort. But it will be best to approach him about the matter yourself. He and your bailiff have had a row or two.”
“Snavely is no longer the bailiff at Aysbeck,” Malvern said.
A smile broadened the squire's face. “Then I'm sure Bodkin will be glad to help.”
“I'm afraid I relied too heavily on Snavely to run Aysbeck. When I was a child, Yorkshire always seemed so far away that my mother and I seldom made the trip. Now that the railroad is nearby, I can make the trip in two days, so there's no reason for me to stay away as I did in the past.”
A knowing twinkle came into the squire's eyes. “Especially now that the countess is here.”
Malvern surprised himself by saying, “I'm not sure how much longer she'll be here.”
The squire raised his eyebrows. “When I spoke with her, I got the impression that she expected to live here.”
“Well, that was the original plan, but I had forgotten how antiquated Aysbeck Manor is. The plumbing and heating make it uncomfortable in the winter.”
“Old houses can always be renovated,” the squire said, “and your countess makes a lovely addition to our community. We'd be sorry to see her go.”
Miss Culpepper overcame her shyness enough to ask Neil, “Will you leave when your sister does?”
“No,” he assured her. “I'll be here for—for quite some time.”
Malvern decided to give his brother-in-law a helping hand. “I may have to depend rather heavily on Neil until I can find another bailiff.”
She looked greatly relieved.
The squire told Malvern about an agent in York who could be of assistance in finding a new bailiff.
Malvern nodded with enthusiasm. “That's a good idea. I hired Snavely through an agency in London. A Yorkshireman should get along with the locals better than he did.”
Neil snorted. “Anyone will get along better than Snavely did.”
The squire chuckled. “The man did seem to have a burr up his—ah—nose.”
Miss Culpepper blushed and the men laughed to cover the squire's near faux pas.
The squire stood. “I have that agent's address in the library. I'll get it.”
“I'd appreciate that,” Malvern said.
The squire took a step and then stopped. After a glance at his daughter and Neil, he turned to Malvern. “Perhaps you'd like to see the library. I just received a shipment of books from London. Might have something you'd like to borrow.”
Realizing the man wanted to give his daughter time alone with Neil, Malvern quickly rose and followed after him. With the father's approval, Neil's chances of getting himself a wealthy wife vastly improved. However, Malvern wondered if the squire knew just how dismal Neil's financial circumstances were. Should Malvern tell him?
The squire would probably consider himself lucky to get his crippled daughter married to a man with connections to nobility. Malvern decided to keep his knowledge of Neil to himself unless asked directly. Then he would tell whatever his honor dictated. The girl obviously liked Neil, and he wasn't a bad fellow except for his love of fine clothing and games of chance. He could make the girl happy, unless he squandered her fortune.
As the squire copied the name and address of the agent at his library desk, Malvern ignored the row of books that had been pointed out to him and moved toward a newspaper on a nearby table. “This is something I've been missing up here.”
The squire glanced up. “The papers? I take both the Yorkshire Gazette and the Edinburgh Times. One comes a day and the other two days after publication, but they keep me fairly well up to date.”
“I should make some arrangements to get some sort of newspaper myself. I am beginning to feel cut off here.” A story on the front page caught Malvern's attention.
“Feel free to come over and read mine anytime.”
Malvern realized the squire had moved beside him and was holding out a piece of paper. “I'm sorry,” he said, hastily laying the news
paper down and turning back to his host. “The story about the Prime Minister calling a cabinet meeting caught my eye. It's rather unusual for the cabinet to meet this time of year, unless something important has come up.”
“Go on with your reading then,” Culpepper said.
“No need. There's just the announcement that the meeting was held, nothing about the agenda.”
“I shouldn't be surprised if it didn't concern the failure of this year's potato crop.”
Malvern was surprised that Culpepper had heard about a problem that had affected farmers in the southern part of the country. “Has the blight been a problem up north, too?”
The squire nodded. “Most of the farmers in this area raise sheep, but from what I've been hearing the blight's been felt all over the country.”
“I didn't know it was that bad.” Malvern considered his words carefully before speaking. While Culpepper was a country gentleman now, he'd made his fortune in commerce and could be a Liberal. If that were the case, Malvern didn't want to argue politics with him. “The government will have to get involved, I suppose, come up with some sort of aid program for the farmers.”
One of Culpepper's eyes twitched. “The farmers? The government needs to assure that all the workingmen in this country have bread they can afford to buy. The Corn Laws will have to be suspended.”
No doubt about it, Culpepper was a Liberal. “I dare say Prime Minister Peel will consider all options. I just hope he doesn't find it necessary to call a special session of Parliament. Of course, the Commons have to act before the Lords get involved, so it probably wouldn't interrupt my holiday.”
A frown briefly crossed the squire's face. Evidently he didn't approve of Malvern's lack of concern for the current crisis, if it was a crisis. Malvern found it hard to believe that this Yorkshire squire knew more about the state of the country than he did.
After the squire handed him the agent's address, Malvern thanked him and said, “I hope I can find someone who'll take good care of Aysbeck.”
Standing with his hands clasped behind his back, the squire was silent for a moment. Then he said, “Your father really loved his land. Even after he became the Earl of Malvern he came up to Yorkshire whenever he could.”