It’s not Poppy’s absence that’s made me feel lonely.
Sadly, that was very true. She missed Alex. She missed the intellectual stimulation and excitement of bantering with him. She missed his humor, his kindness, his male way of thinking. His voice. His . . .
Oh God, she missed his body.
She’d thought—on the rare occasions she’d thought about it at all—that losing your virginity was just that—a loss. It was the beginning of years of subjugation, the price women were forced to pay to avoid a lifetime lived in the shadows as a poor relation.
When she’d taken Alex to her bed, she hadn’t lost a thing—except her heart.
Poppy yowled again.
Lud! She needed to attend to that crazed cat before she had the village on her doorstep.
She almost ran the last few steps.
“Poppy,” she said, as she opened the door, “I—eek!”
A man was there, too, in his shirtsleeves, his coat raised in both hands—
Oh. It was Alex.
“I’m sorry, Jane.” He lowered his arms as Poppy darted past her feet. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Her heart had stopped when she’d seen him. Now it started up again with slow, painful, breath-stealing thuds.
The letter just went out this afternoon. He couldn’t have got it and come so quickly, could he?
He’s here.
“Ah.” She swallowed. Tried again. “What are you doing here?”
“Trying to stop your cat from waking the neighborhood.” He sounded a little breathless, too. “And not get clawed in the process.”
“She’s not my cat.” Blast, did she sound annoyed? She wasn’t, of course. She was . . . nervous. But she saw Alex flinch slightly, his mouth twisting briefly into what looked like a grimace.
“I mean what are you doing here?” She gestured to encompass the house and the garden.
Wait—was that a horse wandering in the foliage?
“I got your letter.”
“Oh. But . . . it only went out this afternoon.” His gaze sharpened. “Did you miss me?”
“Ahh.”
“What couldn’t you put in writing?”
“Ahh.” She had to tell him she’d changed her mind and would marry him. But she’d thrown his offer back at him when she’d told him she hadn’t conceived. Perhaps he was done with her.
Cat and Imogen said he’d been in low spirits. And he was here. He’d come at once.
“I see I’ve made a mistake,” Alex was saying. “My apologies for disturbing you.” He started to turn away.
Oh, God! He was leaving. “Wait!” She lunged forward to grab his arm. She could feel his muscles under the fine lawn of his shirt. “Don’t go. You’re right. We need to talk. I need to tell you—”
The enormity of the situation struck her again and her throat closed. If she let him in now, she would go to bed with him. She knew it with the same degree of certainty that she knew the sun would rise in the morning. And if she went to bed with him again, she’d marry him and leave Loves Bridge to become a countess with all the frightening, public responsibilities that entailed.
Am I entirely certain I want that?
He’d raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to finish her sentence.
“Things.” She swatted at some flying insect. Her candle was beginning to attract a crowd. “I need to tell you things.”
He nodded as he picked a sizable moth off her nightgown, his hand brushing against her breast.
The accidental touch shot through her, and a predictable part of her trembled.
“I suggest we close the door then,” he said, removing yet another moth from her hair.
“Yes. Do come in.” She backed up and he stepped over the threshold, shutting the door behind him.
And somehow sucking all the air out of the room.
He smiled. “I take it you don’t mind moths?”
“Ahh, no. Just spiders. And mice.” Think. Breathe. Tell him you love him. That you’ll marry him.
What if he’s changed his mind and doesn’t want to marry me?
Why would he have ridden all the way from Evans Hall if he’d changed his mind?
“Y- you got my letter?” she asked as she lit the candle in the wall sconce and then blew hers out. She was shaking too much to be trusted with fire.
Of course he’d got her letter. He’d just said so. He would think she’d lost her wits completely.
He nodded. “Yes. Do you want me to put my coat back on?”
His coat? Oh, right. It was rather scandalous that he was here in his shirtsleeves, but then she was here in her nightgown.
And I’ve already seen everything his clothes hide.
Her heart—and other parts—throbbed.
“No.”
She wanted him to drop the blasted coat and bring her up against him. To kiss her and make love to her so she didn’t have to say anything.
He stayed with his back to the door, coat clutched in his hands almost like a shield.
Poppy came back, perhaps to see what was keeping them, and found a moth that had flown in before the door shut. She pounced on it and then batted it around on the floor.
“What couldn’t you put in the letter, Jane?”
She tore her eyes away from Poppy’s antics to look back at Alex. His face was guarded.
This is ridiculous. Where is my courage? I’ve never been a cowering, pigeon-hearted female before.
She raised her chin. “I’ve changed my mind. I’ll marry you”—her voice faltered—“that is, if you still want to marry me.”
His smile was blinding but sadly, brief. “I thought you didn’t want to be a countess.”
“Right. I would rather not, but I realize there’s no way around it if I’m going to marry you.” She frowned. “It would be so much easier if you weren’t an earl, you know.”
He raised a brow. “Would you rather I be a penniless itinerant, like Mr. Wertigger, perhaps?”
She wrinkled her nose. “No. But maybe a nice, solid farmer.”
“Like Mr. Barker.”
She laughed. “No, not like Mr. Barker.”
Alex smiled in an encouraging fashion. “In a way, I am a farmer. Much of my wealth and my attention is on my lands and crops.”
“You are not a farmer.”
He shrugged, clearly deciding not to brangle with her further on that head. “And I’m afraid you will have to leave the village and come live with me.” He leered at her. “It will not be at all convenient for me to have my wife so far away.” He grinned. “And I believe once we exchange our vows, you will be ineligible to continue on here.”
She frowned. “I do not like change, you know.”
“No? Excellent. I certainly don’t wish to worry that you’ll be thinking of changing husbands.”
She glared at him. “And don’t think to be taking mistresses. I will not stand for that sort of behavior.”
He waggled his brows. “Good. If our night at Loves Castle is any indication, I’ll have no time or energy for a mistress—I’ll be worn to a thread keeping you satisfied.”
She flushed, remembering all too well what they’d done at the castle—which she’d like to do again. But not yet.
“I have no experience with servants, you know, or with running any household larger than Randolph’s.”
“Jane, you’re intelligent and capable—you’ve run Randolph’s business since you were fourteen, correct?”
“Yes.”
“And really, Mrs. Frampton, my housekeeper, is very good at what she does. She’ll likely be just as happy if you don’t meddle too much with her system.” His grin turned a bit lascivious. “I’m not out to hire a steward or estate manager, Jane. I want a wife.”
Alex had grown up in the peerage. He had no idea what a change this would be for her. “I can’t spend my entire life in your bed, you know.”
His smile turned positively lecherous. “That’s a pity.” He stepped closer. “My estat
es have run well enough without a countess, Jane. Don’t worry. If you find something you enjoy doing, then do it. Otherwise”—if it was possible to look even more lecherous, he did—“you can help me secure the succession.”
“But what about your London town house and other obligations?” She stepped back. “I’ve never even been to London.”
“Then I’ll enjoy showing you the sights.”
“I don’t know the first thing about being a countess. All your friends will laugh at me.”
“They will not. My closest friends are Marcus and Nate, and they will be delighted.” He smiled. “As will their wives.”
“I’m twenty-eight. Firmly—happily”—until now—“on the shelf. Are you certain you wish to marry me?”
“Yes.” He cupped her face. “Jane, I’ll confess I thought I was in love with Charlotte earlier this year. Having her jilt me, realizing she’d never loved me . . . well, it shook my confidence. But what I feel for you . . .” He smiled. “What I felt for Charlotte is nothing at all like what I feel for you. I know now that when I offered for her it was the idea of marriage and family that I loved, not, I’m embarrassed to say, Charlotte.” He sighed. “I never really knew her. The woman I thought she was was a figment of my imagination.”
“Why do you think you know me?”
“Don’t I?” He swept an errant tear away with his thumb—she hadn’t realized she was crying. “Aren’t you a fiercely independent, intelligent woman who cares deeply for the few”—he smiled—“the very few people you let get close to you?”
She flushed. “You flatter me.”
He grinned. “Then let me rephrase that. You’re a stubborn, infuriating, maddening female who gives no quarter in an argument”—his smile turned heated—“or in bed. And I wouldn’t want you any other way.”
“Nonsense. I’m nothing of the sort.”
That surprised a snort of laughter from him. “Right. My mistake. You’re a meek, quiet Miss. Everyone says so.”
She had to laugh at that.
He smiled, but then his expression turned serious. “Marry me, Jane. We’ll face the challenges that come together.”
She looked at him, caught in the moment of decision. She could hold to the past and the comfort habit and familiarity brought or she could take his hand and jump into the unknown.
She would be brave.
She closed the last distance between them, putting her hands on his chest. “Yes, Alex. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
“Jane!” His voice held joy and relief and passion. His arms went round her, crushing her to him with a need she shared, and then his mouth came down on hers.
Ahh. This was what she wanted. She parted her lips and welcomed him in, pressing up against him, pulling his shirt from his pantaloons, running her hands up his hard, muscled back. This was what she’d missed.
His lips had moved to her neck, so her mouth was free. “Come upstairs, Alex. Come to bed.”
“Can’t.” His hand cupped her breast through the thin fabric of her nightgown. “I left Primrose loose in your garden, still saddled and bridled.”
“Primrose?” Her hands had dived down to cup his arse and pull him closer.
“Horse.” He was panting. “Been riding Horatio into the ground.” He paused to grin at her. “Horatio and O’Reilly, my head groom, will be so happy I can”—his lips turned up into a slight leer—“ride something—someone—else now.”
She took advantage while he spoke to slip the first buttons on his fall free.
He frowned. “Remember. Primrose.”
“Primrose can wait.” She rubbed against the prominent bulge straining against his fall. “But I can’t. I need you now. Part of me is literally crying for you. It’s wet and—”
And he covered his ears with his hands. “Primrose. In your garden.”
She took the opportunity to pull off her nightgown so she stood naked in front of him. Then she lifted her arms and started to loosen her braid. “It won’t take long. I think I’ll come apart the moment you touch me.”
His face was tense with need. “I’m trying to be noble.”
“You are noble. You’re an earl.” She came back to free his fall’s straining buttons before they popped.
He didn’t try to stop her. Instead his hands went to stroke her naked arse. “I—I doubt P-Poppy will approve.”
He didn’t try to stop her. Instead his hands went to stroke her naked arse. “I-I doubt P-Poppy will approve.”
“I think she will. She didn’t object at the castle. In fact, I suspect she instigated our union.” There was one more button left. Jane paused to address the cat. “What do you say, Poppy?”
They both looked down to see Poppy licking her paws. There was no sign of the moth. Had she eaten it?
Ugh. Best not think about that.
Poppy paused long enough to blink at them and yawn—and then she returned to her toilet.
“I’d say she approves.” Jane worked the last button free and Alex’s lovely, long, thick male bit sprang out into her hands. “Or at least she doesn’t object.”
Alex made a sound that was a cross between a grunt and a groan. Then he scooped her up and carried her to the sitting room settee.
“I’ll never make it upstairs to your bed,” he said as he deposited her on the less-than-comfortable piece of furniture.
Comfort didn’t matter.
“Neither will I.” Jane jerked his pantaloons down to his thighs.
“Let me get my boots off first.”
“No time for that, either.”
Their joining wasn’t polished or elegant or graceful. It also wasn’t long. On his first thrust, the now-familiar waves of pleasure spread through her. On his second, his warm seed flooded her. This time she welcomed it, hoped it would take root and would give them a child.
But if it didn’t, she looked forward to trying again.
And again.
“Lord, Jane, you are going to be the end of me,” Alex said, lifting himself off her. “You are a witch.”
She grinned. “That’s been said of the Spinster House spinster before.”
“I’ve said it to you before, if you’ll remember.” He fastened his pantaloons—she stayed sprawled naked on the settee, enjoying the way his eyes studied her.
“I believe you also told me I have a lusty nature and will require a lot of ‘vigorous tupping’ to keep me content.” She grinned. “I hope you are prepared to perform your marital duties, my lord.”
“God save me, I shall attempt to, er, rise to the occasion.” He scooped up her nightgown and tossed it at her. “And now, Primrose awaits—patiently, I hope.”
Lud, she wished Alex didn’t have to leave. “You aren’t going to ride all the way back to Evans Hall tonight, are you?”
“No.” He tugged on his jacket. “I’m going to stop at the castle and see if they’ll let me stay the night.”
Jane brightened. “You can stay here.”
He frowned at her, even though he looked tempted. “No, I cannot. Remember Primrose.”
“There’s a stable of sorts outside.”
“Of sorts being the point. We—Primrose and I—looked at it and found it wanting.”
Well, yes, likely it was on the verge of collapse. None of the spinsters she knew had kept a horse.
“And by stopping at the castle I can tell Marcus and Cat our good news and discover if they object to us marrying here the day of the christening. That is, if the plan suits you, of course. I favor it because Nate and Anne would be able to attend, but if you prefer, we can choose a different day.” He grinned. “But not too far off, if you please. We must consider your lusty nature.”
Her lusty nature wanted to drag him up to her bedroom and never let him leave.
“The day of the christening is fine if Cat and the duke agree.” Jane would be happy to marry Alex here in the drawing room with only two witnesses, just as the Duke and Duchess of Benton had, but the christening was next week. She could
wait that long. And she didn’t want their marriage to appear a completely harum-scarum affair.
“Excellent. I’ll talk to the vicar in the morning.”
“And then stop here?” Perhaps she could lure him upstairs....
“No.” He laughed. “I know what that look in your eyes means. You are not going to have me again until we say our vows before God and man.”
“That sounds like a challenge.” She stood, dropping her nightgown on the floor.
He picked it up and handed it to her.
She reached for him instead, but he evaded her grasp—and then Poppy planted herself between them.
“Excuse me, Poppy,” she said, moving to step around the cat.
“Merrow!” Poppy swiped at her naked foot, missing it by an inch—perhaps on purpose.
“I believe that was a warning,” Alex said. “Poppy agrees it’s time for me to go.” He headed for the door.
“I don’t know why.” Jane grudgingly put on the nightgown. “She didn’t complain before.”
“Perhaps she’s in communication with Primrose,” he said, and then laughed when Jane gave him an incredulous look. “You must agree nothing about Poppy is normal.”
“True.” And Poppy looks rather smug about that.
“After I talk to the vicar, I’ll ride for London to get the marriage license and break the news of our wedding to my mother and sister.” He frowned. “They will want to come, of course. I’d better mention that to Marcus in case it affects his feelings on having a joint celebration. This might turn out to be a rather large party, since Diana will wish to bring all the children.”
Jane’s stomach fluttered with something other than desire. Imogen’s father hadn’t wanted Imogen to waste herself on a solicitor’s son. Alex’s family might feel the same about him marrying a solicitor’s sister.
“Will they approve of me? I’m not much of a catch for an earl.”
He laughed. “You must be kidding. They’ll be delighted. Didn’t you see how they were trying to push us together at Chanton Manor?”
She’d suspected Diana, at least, had ulterior motives when she’d sent her down to the lake where Alex was swimming.
“Don’t worry,” he said, giving her a quick—a far too quick—kiss. “They’ll be happy because I’m happy. And I am happy—very, very happy.”
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