Finally, she raised her face to his. “Am I happier now that I’ve met you? It’s odd, you know. When there is someone who is important, you forget that there was ever another life. You live from one burst of happiness to the next. Of course in between, there is uncertainty and plain misery, for you don’t know what the other is thinking, feeling.”
She’d spoken eloquently, he thought, and she was right. With her-and he admitted she was important to him-he’d felt more than his share of misery. And uncertainty, such uncertainty. “Perhaps in the future, bursts of happiness will overtake all other feelings. A not-too-distant future, if you please, since I am close to expiring with anxiety.”
“Perhaps.” And he saw the wickedness in her eyes, hot and wild, and he wished he had her naked beneath him right at that instant. “Do I make you happy, Jason?”
He said nothing at all, looked at her mouth, her small ears with the pearl drop earrings dangling. She punched him in the arm. He laughed. “So you are expiring with anxiety? I’m glad you see my point now. Yes, Judith, you have made me happy.”
“Can you tell me what your parents think of me?”
She cared about him, there was absolutely no doubt at all in his mind. He wanted to ask her to marry him, right this second, but something held him back. She wasn’t ready for that, he knew it to his boots. It had happened too quickly, he was reeling, his guts twisting and roiling about, so how must she be feeling? She was young and innocent, despite her nearly twenty years. Since he wasn’t stupid, he said easily, “My parents are very fond of you, just as I am. Can you doubt it?”
“I haven’t met many people who would be pleased to welcome a stranger.”
“That is a pity. Perhaps you would like to spend more time with them before we continue on this path to more happiness for you?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Perhaps.”
“They know you well enough right now, Judith. They believe you quite clever; my father even said you were charming. I raised an eyebrow at that, but he said, yes, it was true. You’d charmed him, he said, and then he remarked that you were as bright as a new penny.”
He saw clearly that she liked the sound of that, but she had to pick and prod and doubt herself. “But they don’t really know me, not like they know Corrie. She’s already like a daughter to them.”
“That’s true, naturally, since she’s been in and out of Northcliffe Hall since she was three years old. She’s been a sister to me for year upon year. I do hope, however, that James doesn’t think of her as a sister; I can’t imagine anything more hellish than that. Now, my parents are returning to Northcliffe Hall on Friday. My father is satisfied that all inquiries are moving ahead and he is no longer needed here. I am accompanying them, naturally, with Remie and three other runners Lord Gray recommended to guard my father. Perhaps you and Lady Arbuckle would like to come with us? For a nice long visit? Would your aunt like that, do you think?”
“I must speak to her.” She looked up at him through her lashes and said, “I believe, though, that she wants me to marry an earl.”
He laughed, couldn’t help himself. “Like my father, you have charmed me as well. You’re as wicked as any man could wish, Judith. Hmmm, wouldn’t your aunt prefer the scion of a duke? Like Devlin Monroe, Corrie’s vampire?”
“So now I am old and wicked, both at the same time.”
“Yes, and I am immensely grateful for it.”
“I wonder, should I like Devlin? Possibly, but he saw Corrie and it was all over for him.”
“Even the mention of his name drives my brother wild with jealousy, though he doesn’t realize yet that it’s jealousy he’s feeling and not repellent thoughts about fangs coming out of Devlin’s gums beneath the light of the moon.” Jason leaned down and kissed her, couldn’t stop himself. She was a lady, dammit, but he didn’t want to give her a peck on the cheek. No, he wanted a deep, wet kiss, his tongue in her mouth, and that is what he did. She was shy, her lips closed, and he felt her jerk in surprise when his mouth touched hers.
Was he the first man to kiss her? Obviously he was. She didn’t know what to do. Dammit, no tongue in her mouth as yet. The thought that he would be the man to teach her everything made him want to sing to the dimpled plaster cherubs that adorned the corners of the ceiling in the Arbuckle drawing room. When he forced himself to step back, he said, “I will write to your cousin at The Coombes. Perhaps he would like to see me sooner rather than later, since it seems that you and I might be drawing closer.”
“This drawing closer business-Jason, I am only recently arrived in town. What about that earl who surely must be waiting in the wings somewhere, just waiting to pop out onto my stage, doubtless reciting lovely verses to my eyebrows-”
He kissed her again, a light kiss on the tip of her nose, and left her, whistling. She stood there in the middle of Lady Arbuckle’s drawing room and listened to his boots striding solid across the marble entryway, heard murmured voices, then the opening and closing of the front door. Then there remained nothing but the soft silence of the early afternoon, soft drizzling rain pattering lightly against the windows. Did it always rain in England? Well, truth be told, it rained more in Ireland. She was alone. It seemed to her in that moment that she had been alone most of her life. She wondered what would happen. He had very nearly asked her to marry him, hadn’t he? She hugged herself. She knew it, felt it deep within her, and wondered at it. He’d all but asked her.
JASON ASKED HER for the exact direction of The Coombes that evening at a musicale at Lord Baldwin’s spacious town house on Berkeley Square. Judith gave it to him, and said, voice as demure as a nun’s, “I am considering visiting Italy whilst you are in Ireland with my cousin, studying his breeding methods, eyeing his horses, and attending races.”
Jason felt a sock of lust that nearly knocked him over; he knew he was getting hard, just standing there, for God’s sake, just looking at her.
He said in that easy voice of his, “I understand that Venice is lovely in the fall. Not too cold as yet, the winds still calm over the canal. My brother and I visited Venice some three years ago. And yes, both of us got drunk enough one night to fall into the canal.”
“I think perhaps I should prefer Florence. There are so many splendid artists working there. No drunken young gentlemen to disturb me.”
“There are drunken young gentlemen everywhere in the world to disturb you, don’t fool yourself.”
She giggled, shaking her head at him. “When you visit The Coombes, you will be attending the races with men who will surely try to fleece you.”
Jason said, stroking his chin, “I might do some fleecing of my own. Now, I’m not at all certain about Florence. All those splendid artists died out centuries ago. Unfortunately, I fear their thousands of paintings, all of the Madonna and Child, will endure forever. We will never be free of them.”
She was hiccupping she was trying so hard not to laugh. He patted her cheek, and left her, saying only over his shoulder in that offhand way of his that he was meeting with some friends.
She called out, serious now, “You mean there might be some information about your father?”
He only shrugged and left her again, this time without turning back.
Judith watched him until he was gone from the immense ballroom. She turned when Lady Arbuckle said, “He hasn’t asked you to marry him, has he?”
Judith said slowly, “No, not yet. He is very beautiful, don’t you think?”
Lady Arbuckle said matter-of-factly, “All consider the Sherbrooke twins to be the most handsome men in England. They will probably only grow more so as they get older, just as their Aunt Melissande has. She’s at least forty-five now, surely past any excuse for beauty, but it just isn’t so. Young men still swoon when she passes them on the street or see her across a room. The twins will be no different, for they are cast in her image, an odd thing, but there it is. Their parents have never been pleased about this miscarriage of heredity.”
“And o
ne of these perfect young gentlemen will propose to me. That is quite remarkable, isn’t it?”
Lady Arbuckle started to turn away, then stopped, searched Judith’s face, and said, “I have heard that the younger son, the one who you believe will propose to you, is not as constant as his brother, Lord Hammersmith. I have seen it myself. Jason Sherbrooke sees a young lady who pleases him-as you have pleased him, Judith-and he devotes himself to her entirely, for a short while-and then he is gone. Will he actually propose marriage? I don’t know, but I must doubt it. I suggest you take great care, Judith. He is a wild young man, more honorable than most, perhaps, but I was told that he keeps a mistress on Mount Street.”
“I did not know that,” Judith said slowly. “I wonder what she looks like?”
“I daresay it isn’t appropriate for you to know that. I daresay that you shouldn’t even admit to knowing what a mistress is.” Lady Arbuckle paused a moment, studied her face. “However, I doubt she has your looks or your charm.”
“I hope that is true.”
“I wonder,” said Lady Arbuckle slowly. “I wonder what will happen. I wish to leave soon, Judith. That soprano from Rome made my eardrums ache. I wish to write my husband, to see if he is well.”
“I am sure he is just fine. I’m ready, Aunt. Jason said that he was going to meet friends. I wonder if instead he was going to Mount Street to visit his mistress?”
“I would guess the mistress.”
“Do you think he wanted me so much he had to go to her?”
Lady Arbuckle laughed. “I don’t think a man ever needs stimulation in order to visit a mistress.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
JAMES FELL ONTO his back, mouth open, trying to suck breath back into his body. Beside him lay his new wife, who, if he was not mistaken, was smiling like a fool even as she yawned.
When he could finally speak again, he said, catching up her hand in his, “The backs of your knees excited me infinitely.”
“Ha!”
He grinned up at the ceiling. “Very well, you wish me to be truthful here.” He turned on his side and looked down at her. Her hair was tangled and wild around her head, her face glowing, her body languid, so soft he wanted to begin kissing her ears and work his way down to her heels. “I’ll skip the prelude. To kiss your belly, that was rather fine, Corrie.”
She moistened her mouth with her tongue. She was embarrassed at his frank speaking, he saw it, and was charmed. “And kissing you and caressing you with my mouth, between those lovely long legs of yours-”
She came up against him and bit his shoulder. “You will not embarrass me, James Sherbrooke, do you hear me? You won’t speak anymore of kissing my belly or touching me all over and kissing me all over until I nearly shook myself out of my skin.”
He laughed, pulled her tight against him. “I pleased you.”
She bit his shoulder again, then licked it. The taste of him excited her, made her feel soft and compliant, and perhaps that wasn’t all that good a thing, but for the moment, pressed naked against him, she would accept it. She whispered against his warm flesh, “How do you know you pleased me, James? Perhaps I am still waiting to be pleased, still anxious and afraid that there is really nothing pleasant at all with this sex business.”
He nibbled on her ear, got a mouthful of her hair, and, without saying a word, moved his hand down her back until he was spreading his fingers across her hips. She waited, wanting, wanting, but too embarrassed to ask him to-then those magic fingers of his curved inward, and when they touched her, eased inside her, she sucked in her breath, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him.
“Damn,” he said into her mouth, “it’s a good thing I am a young man. You nearly killed me, and now you want me to pleasure you again, five minutes later.”
“Five minutes? That long?” He looked into her eyes as his fingers found her. When her eyes went wild and his fingers sent her into her orgasm, he took those lovely cries into his mouth.
He came into her, hard and deep, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head. She was nearly squeezing the breath out of him she was clutching his back so tightly, and when she whispered against his neck, “James, I would kill for you,” he was gone. He wondered in those incredible moments, if he would ever slow down with her. Or she with him.
He doubted it, he thought later, doubted the feelings he had for her that made him instantly hard, the feelings that were growing almost faster than he could accept, and wasn’t that a fine thing? It was James who pulled the covers over them.
He fell asleep, her soft mouth whispering kisses all over his face. Had he known what she was thinking, sleep would have been the last thing on his mind.
NORTHCLIFFE HALL
Douglas Sherbrooke looked meditatively at the thin slices of ham on his luncheon plate, so thin he could see his fork through them. “I wonder what our eldest son is doing at this moment.”
Alexandra pretended confusion, which made him laugh. “You mean right now? When he and Corrie should be consuming food in the inn parlor since it is time for luncheon? He is your son, Douglas; both of us know exactly what is going on at this exact moment.”
“Perhaps he is sleeping. A man must restock himself.”
She cleared her throat. “He is only twenty-five. I doubt much restocking is necessary. Whatever he is doing, there is no food involved.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m his mother; it’s difficult, but I suppose I must accept it.”
Her husband grinned at her. “You believe our Jason is still a virgin?”
He felt peas hit his face. He began to pick them up and put them on his plate.
She said, resting her chin on her clasped hands, “I happened to catch Jason after his first encounter with a girl.”
That caught her husband’s attention. “How is that possible? I’ve always told them never to let their mother, well, as to that they were under strict orders-”
“I know what you told them. I know everything, Douglas, never forget that. Jason was unlucky. I happened to be walking out of the tack room in the stable when he nearly ran me down. He gave me this sloppy grin, realized who I was, and turned beet-red and started stuttering. And I said, ‘Jason, what is wrong with you?’ even though I well knew what had happened up in the hayloft. Our boy gulped once, twice, then said, ‘It was the most wonderful thing in my life!’ Then he looked perfectly horrified at what he’d blurted out to his mother, and ran away. Oh dear, Douglas, he was fourteen.”
Douglas, wisely, didn’t say a single thing.
Alexandra sighed, tucked down two more bites of ham, and said, “It’s a blessing James doesn’t consider Corrie a sister. That would be disastrous.”
“My lord!”
Douglas was on his feet in an instant. “What is it, Ollie?”
Ollie Trunk, a grizzled veteran on the never-ending search for bad men, a successful Bow Street Runner for twenty-two years, stood in the doorway, ducked his head in deference to an earl, then said, “I jest got a message from Lord Gray, my lord. He says one of his boys caught up with this young man wot was trying to hire a couple of toughs to come after ye, my lord, no doubt about that.”
“You caught the young man?”
“Well, as to that, he got away, fast and sly he was, but Lord Gray’s boys managed to nab the two toughs and dragged them in to see Lord Gray so’s he could rattle their brains, which he did, and they told him it was ye the young feller we were after, and he were offering buckets of groats to help him kill ye.” Ollie paused, then frowned, a habit of such long-standing that his brow seemed furrowed through and through. “Lord Gray says he believes yer right. This is revenge, my lord. Revenge, through and through, and this young ’un ain’t going to stop until we stops him. Lord Gray is sending two more lads from London to help us keep ye safe. Northcliffe is a mighty big place, even bigger than Ravensworth, so’s we gots to find scores of hidey holes.”
Alexandra said as she slowly rose, “Thank you, Ollie. Lord Gray wrote nothing else?”
<
br /> Ollie Trunk blushed. “Actually, my lady, the note is fer his lordship here. I was jest so-”
“I appreciate your attention,” Douglas said, and held out his hand. Ollie gave him a twisted-up piece of paper. “Do you wish two more men, Ollie?”
“Yes, my lord. We’ll nab this man, this son of Georges Cadoudal. Aye, it’s revenge. That can make a young man’s blood hot.” And with that, Ollie nodded, blushed again when he looked at Alexandra, and backed out of the dining room.
“But why,” Douglas said slowly, “is the young man’s blood hot?”
At that moment Hollis sailed through the door, cleared his throat, and said, “Some years ago, the earl of Ravensworth used Mr. Ollie Trunk’s services. All worked out well.”
“I wonder what trouble Burke had,” Alex said. “So you approve of him, Hollis?”
“As to that, my lord, we will see. The proof of his abilities will be obvious to all, in due course.”
That was for certain, Douglas thought, aware of the small derringer in his jacket pocket. Then he looked at his butler, really looked.
Hollis glowed, no other word for it. He was standing so straight, Douglas thought he must have gained at least three inches of his younger height back. “May I inquire as to your progress with your lady, Hollis?”
“She is very near to the sticking point, my lord. I dare say that another day or two in my company will have her yelling yes.”
Alexandra said, “I can’t imagine why she wouldn’t be singing hallelujahs at the thought of being your wife, Hollis. You are magnificent, any woman would bless her stars to marry you.”
“Just so, my lady, just so. As you may remember, Annabelle knew my precious Miss Plimpton. Her present hesitation is because she is concerned that my feelings for Miss Plimpton may still be too strong.”
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