None of that matters, of course, as long as Amelia is happy and that is the main reason for my letter. I just want to let you know you are exceedingly lucky to be getting someone as lovely and sweet as Amelia, especially as you got her through an advertisement. Who advertises for a wife anyway? I mean really, what kind of man is so busy he cannot take the time to court a woman?
Well, that is neither here nor there at this point. I merely want to let you know, no that’s not quite right. I want to warn you. If you do not appreciate the exceptional women Amelia is, or if you do not treat her kindly, I will be on my way to Seattle to straighten you out.
I can almost see you smiling as you read this, Mr. Jordon, wondering what I, a young woman of nineteen, could possibly do to you should things go amiss, but let me assure you, you will not find it a laughing matter should I turn up on your doorstep. While I am small, I am an excellent shot.
Having made my point, I hope, let me convey my felicitations on your upcoming marriage to my dear friend.
Sincerely,
Miss Effie Lane
Post Script: I see no reason to inform Amelia of our discussion, as I’m sure she will be busy with preparations for the wedding. I have enclosed a photograph on the chance I may have to come to Seattle. My sense of fair play prompts me to give you an idea of what you will be facing should it come to that.
Sam looked at the photo and laughed until tears leaked from his eyes. Effie Lane sat demurely on a settee, her skirts fanned out around her with an enormous pistol on her lap. It was pointed more or less in the direction of the photographer and Sam wondered if she had to threaten the poor man to take the photograph. Her scowl was impressive, wrinkling up her small nose and almost obscuring her freckles. Her lips were tilted, her smile somewhere between issuing a challenge and mocking the observer. Light hair was escaping from its pins and curling along her cheek, indicating some kind of urgency either in her preparations or in her hurry to get the picture finished. No doubt there was an argument with the photographer regarding her choice of pose and accessories, Sam thought as he studied it thoughtfully. Someone should take that young woman in hand before she gets into real trouble. Had he been in the room, he would have removed the gun from her hands and promptly applied his hand to her backside.
Opening the desk drawer, he spotted the picture of the woman his brother went to fetch. She was lovely, but surely there was more to her than her physical appearance to inspire such devotion from a friend. He couldn’t help chuckling as he scanned the letter again. The outspoken miss had actually threatened to shoot him, well Hugh. Sam couldn’t help but wonder what she meant by ‘her escapades’.
While he’d been against Hugh going to such lengths to secure a bride, he was reserving judgment until he observed first-hand how it all worked out. After having dinner with his parents, the single life always seemed more appealing than the alternative, but he had to admit he found Miss Lane’s letter quite entertaining.
Gathering up the documents he’d come for, he replaced Amelia’s picture in the drawer and left the mail on top of the desk where he’d found it. Clarence could deal with it in the morning. Miss Lane’s letter he slipped into his pocket. He would answer that one personally.
*
They dined in a fabulous restaurant high on a hill overlooking the city. The interior was as elegant as any restaurant in the east, if a touch ostentatious. Uniformed waiters served them champagne in crystal flutes, the fine china and silver glistening in the light of the chandeliers.
Hugh was attentive and interesting as he told her about his home and work. He mentioned his brother, Samuel, fondly and easily skirted her questions regarding his parents and the kind of marriage they had.
Several times during the evening he escorted her to the floor for a waltz and Amelia could not fail to notice the envious glances of some of the other women. Yes, he was incredibly handsome, apparently quite wealthy and had been charming, if she didn’t count the hairbrush incident. That definitely made her wonder what she was getting into. While it hadn’t been especially painful, it certainly was embarrassing, and if she were honest with herself, a bit exciting. She didn’t know a man who would go to such lengths to ensure his intended’s obedience. He insisted it was because she’d jeopardized her safety, but she wondered if that were entirely true. What other behaviors would incite such repercussions? Perhaps it would be best to find out before she said, ‘I do’.
“Amelia, are you having a good time?” he asked as he twirled her around the floor.
“Yes.”
‘Then what’s troubling you? I see a tiny little wrinkle on the bridge of your nose. Almost a scowl, but not quite,” he teased.
“A wrinkle?” she gasped, immediately relaxing her face.
Hugh laughed and spun her again.
“Come on, out with it. There shouldn’t be any secrets between us,” he insisted softly.
“Truth?”
“Yes, of course, I’ll always want the truth,” he replied with a serious expression.
“Very well, then. I’m a bit disconcerted by what took place this afternoon,” she said, looking directly into his eyes.
“Specifically?”
“Specifically when you spanked me with a hairbrush,” she hissed, looking around. “I can’t believe you made me say it out loud when I’m sure you knew perfectly well to what I was referring.”
“Sorry, that was bad of me, wasn’t it?” he asked, grinning. “It appears I find your blush attractive.”
“That’s all well and good, I suppose. I find you attractive as well,” she admitted, “but you haven’t answered my question.”
“What question?”
“About this afternoon.”
“What about it?”
“Hugh, you’re being deliberately obtuse,” she sighed as the music came to an end.
“Funny, I was sure I’d made myself perfectly clear earlier,” he drawled as he led her back to their table.
Amelia sat when he pulled out her chair and tried to remember his exact words.
“Perhaps you’d better explain again,” she suggested. “I’m not quite clear on it.”
Hugh smiled and pulled his chair closer to hers. Taking her hand, he leaned toward her.
“Okay, sweetheart. As my wife, when you misbehave, you can expect consequences.”
“Define ‘misbehave’?” she insisted, pulling slightly away from him.
“Don’t disobey me,” he said simply.
“Or?”
“Or I will discipline you.”
“So if I don’t do what you want, you will whack my behind with a hairbrush?” she whispered, demanding an answer.
“Among other things,” he said, smiling, his eyes alight with laughter.
Amelia scowled and began to rise. Hugh’s hand on her arm stopped her and eased her back onto her chair.
“Don’t be so dramatic,” he scolded. “I’m not an unreasonable man, and I don’t have time to dream up silly rules for you that you most likely would rebel against anyway. I have no desire to control your every move, but I will ensure your safety and wellbeing. If I tell you to stay away from a certain part of town after dark, I have to know you’ll do it.”
“Say I wanted to buy a new hat and you said no. What would happen if I bought it anyway?” she asked.
“Well, then you would have a new hat, wouldn’t you? My money is your money, darling. Spend it as you choose within reason.”
“Give me an example of something you would consider not within reason,” she insisted.
Hugh sighed and thought for a few moments.
“Okay, say you told me you wanted to buy one of those new luxury rail cars so you could travel back and forth between here and your home back east every other week. The answer would be an emphatic no.”
Amelia smiled, “I think that would be a wonderful idea,” she teased.
“No. My wife will be at home in our bed at night, so don’t get any fancy ideas about…”
Hugh blushed and she laughed harder.
“Come on,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. “I think they’re playing our song.”
“Yes, Hugh,” she said demurely.
He looked at her suspiciously before shaking his head and leading her to the dance floor.
“What else would you consider grounds for discipline?”
Hugh was silent as he twirled her around several times. “I would want your obedience in the bedroom.”
Amelia stumbled, but recovered quickly. “I don’t even know what that means,” she whispered, turning to smile at a nearby couple.
“It means that I would expect you to…cooperate.”
Looking at his pleased and slightly smug expression, Amelia wanted to stomp on his toes. “Cooperate?”
“Yes, exactly,” Hugh replied. “Am I wrong to assume you don’t have much, if any, experience regarding what takes place between a man and a woman in the bedroom?”
Amelia gasped. “Are you trying to insult me or do you just delight in embarrassing me?”
“Of course not,” he assured her. “It stands to reason the one with the most experience in these matters should be the one to take the lead.”
“And you have plenty of experience, is that it?”
Instinctively, Hugh didn’t trust her tone. This was one of those questions where there was no correct answer. Looking down at her he took notice of the glint in her eyes.
“Let’s have dessert,” he suggested, leading her from the floor. “I think it’s best we continue this conversation at the hotel.”
Nodding, she allowed him to seat her once again. At the suggestion of their waiter, Hugh ordered Baked Alaska, which they enjoyed with very little conversation.
Chapter Six
The ride back to the hotel was just as silent. Amelia’s mind replayed every horror story she’d ever heard regarding the ‘act’ as she and her friends referred to it. Hugh was a big man, easily capable of making her do whatever he wanted. Once they were wed, she would be his property as far as the law was concerned. Was she being foolish? Had the entire idea of running away to find a husband who would love and understand her been one enormous farce? Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe in the end all men were selfish, demanding oafs only concerned with their own pleasure.
At her door, she thanked Hugh for a lovely night and tried to shut it before he could attempt to resume their conversation. He wasn’t having it.
Taking her arm in a firm grip, he steered her into the room, closing and locking the door behind him.
“Hugh, it’s late,” she began, backing up.
“I know, I want to help you out of your dress.”
“I’ll bet you do,” she snapped before she could clamp her mouth shut.
Hugh laughed.
“I can see we have a problem here. Amelia, if we are going to make this work, we need to be honest with one another. Why don’t you tell me what has you so nervous and upset? Maybe I can help,” he offered kindly.
Amelia narrowed her eyes and glared at him.
“I suspect you know exactly what’s bothering me, Mr. Jordon. After all, you are the one with all the experience,” she drawled sarcastically.
“You’re angry you’re not going to be my first,” he accused, trying to hide a smile. “Maybe you should have settled on some young pup back east. Someone you could control and maneuver into waiting months and months before honoring your vows. That man is not me, sweetheart. When we are wed I will expect you to um…perform your wifely duties. In fact I’m looking forward to it.”
Amelia shivered, her face going pale. He could see the fear in her eyes and sought to alleviate it.
“Tell me; what do you know about the things that take place between a man and a woman?” he asked gently. Striding to her, he cupped her cheek with his palm.
“I…”
“Come, Amelia, you must have heard something, some juicy tidbits of information overheard when young girls are not supposed to be listening.”
“I haven’t heard much, really,” she stammered, looking away. “Only that it’s painful and I should lay there and think of other things as I wait for it to be over.”
Hugh smiled and pulled her close, holding her head to his chest. Good lord, she was priceless.
“Why don’t you describe to me what you expect to happen?” he suggested.
“Well,” she whispered, “I don’t know for sure, but I’ve imagined it would start with a kiss or two.”
“Yes, it usually does. Go on.”
“Then you would tell me to take off my clothes and lay on the bed.”
“It does help if we dispense with clothing,” he agreed, nearly biting his lip. “However, I would definitely want to undress you myself. That’s actually one of my favorite parts. What then?”
“I’m not sure, you understand, but I think the man would…”
“By ‘the man’ I assume you mean me?”
“What, oh yes, I guess so.”
“Good. Go on.”
“Well, I imagine you would want me to spread my legs and then you would…you would…”
“I would what?” he asked, genuinely curious as to how she would describe it.
“Oh God, you would mount me,” she croaked out, burying her face in his chest.
“Mount you? You mean like a fish on the wall?” he asked, chuckling.
Amelia reared her head and glared at him.
“Or maybe like the giant head of a stag,” he offered.
“You know that’s not what I mean,” she snapped, giving him a crisp slap on the chest. “I guess it would be more like mounting a horse or something you were planning to ride. Oh dear, I don’t think I can go through with this. Perhaps I shall never marry.”
“I’m pretty sure you will, darling.” Sweeping her into his arms, he carried her to a large upholstered chair and sat, keeping her on his lap. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but you have several things quite wrong,” he said sadly, shaking his head.
“I do?”
“Most assuredly,” he informed her. “First of all, there is much more than one or two kisses involved,” he continued, tipping her face up to his. “I find that it takes many kisses.” He brushed her lips with his. “And not just kisses either. Nibbles are part of the process,” he told her as he slid his tongue across her lower lip before he trailed his mouth along her jaw line. “Also some men like to give little love bites,” he added, nipping at her ear lobe. “I myself enjoy a little sucking.”
Amelia felt suddenly lightheaded as he kissed his way down the side of her neck. When he drew her skin into his mouth and began sucking, she squirmed on his lap. Soon he was back at her lips and she never noticed he had undone the back of her dress until he slipped it low on her shoulders, exposing the crests of her breasts.
“Hugh,” she gasped, breathlessly.
“Shh, be good, Amelia. I’ve promised I won’t hurt you.”
Nodding, Amelia froze when he softly trailed the tips of his fingers across the top of her breasts.
“You have the softest skin I’ve ever touched,” he praised.
She glowed with the compliment while his lips moved lower, lightly kissing her collarbone. Letting her head fall back and rest on his arm, she had no idea what she was offering, but Hugh did and he wasn’t long in accepting. His dark head bent, his warm mouth grazing the sensitive flesh as he felt her quiver in his arms. Slowly his free hand tugged the bodice of her dress lower until her breasts were nearly uncovered.
Her berry-colored nipples were pouting, pushing against the fabric of her undergarment and it proved to be too tempting. Wetting the thin fabric with his tongue, he latched onto one bud, suckling weakly until she moaned and then increasing the pull as she cried out.
Cupping her other breast, he moved aside the fabric and p
lucked her nipple to an impressive length with his thumb and forefinger. Lifting his head, he blew on the wet material. Amelia arched her back and pulled his head back to her needy nipple.
Grinning, Hugh complied and bared that breast as well, moving from one sweet peak to the other, laving, sucking and occasionally giving them a gentle bite that had her wiggling her bottom against his engorged cock. Slipping one hand under her skirt, he stroked slowly higher, fully prepared to stop should she protest. She didn’t. Instead, her legs fell apart with an audible sigh.
The heat of her was apparent from several inches away and when he cupped her, he wanted to stop sucking and growl with relief. Amelia was wet, warm and ready. He had no doubt he could take her now and enjoy every moment of it. Carefully, he moved his finger through the opening in her drawers and gently prodded her pussy before slipping inside.
Breathy little pants and wiggles encouraged him, but as soon as he felt her barrier he stopped.
Forcing his brain to disconnect from his cock, he withdrew his hand, stroking her smooth legs on the way.
Releasing the tasty morsel between his lips, he sighed and rose with her in his arms.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“It’s time you were in bed,” he said sternly, fighting the urge to toss her on the bed and continue.
“I’m not tired anymore.” She clutched his neck. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, silly girl, but I almost did. I promised you a ring on your finger and a marriage certificate in your possession and I almost shamed us both.”
“I’m not ashamed,” she said firmly. “It was wonderful. I had no idea or I might have…”
“Don’t you say another word,” he warned. “I’m trying to be a gentleman here.”
Amelia (The Marriage Market Book 1) Page 5