She shook in his arms loving the close connection between them, then her body relaxed, sagging onto the mattress.
“Thank you,” he whispered into her hair, brushing it back from her face.
They were both sweaty and hot but she didn’t care. They’d formalized their marriage in the proper away and it had been the best night of her life.
****
The next few weeks passed very quickly. Of course, Theodora’d known John’s mama and sister, but now that she was living with them, she got to know them much better. She was also a little surprised at how much time it took John to manage his business. Barnabas spent many hours a week on parish business but much of that was different in that she and her mama had been involved in it. Indeed the entire household had been in providing food and aid to the sick and injured, supporting the frail elderly, sewing clothes for the new babies and more. But John’s business was conducted in his book room with his secretary, estate managers, and his man of affairs and was not something he spoke of much at all.
She was a little at a loss to know what to do. Did he not speak of business as it was inappropriate for conversation with women? Was it secret? Or was it just that he was unaware she wanted to help and support him, even if that merely involved listening to him? She’d often listened to Barnabas practice his homily and it did seem to help him even if she actually said nothing. Simply talking aloud to a live audience apparently helped him clarify his thoughts. Mayhap that would help John too. Or was she being too forward—that horrible thing, an interfering woman?
And she certainly didn’t want to talk to him in the evenings. The nights in his arms were too precious to waste in idle chitchat. He never came to her bed after a late night out a ball, and there were far too many social events now, at the height of the Season, for her to miss any opportunity when he did visit her.
Or was she looking at the situation from the wrong perspective? Her aim was to woo him and claim his heart as well as his name. The most obvious way to achieve that was with him in her bed at night. And their nights together were always very, very good. But mayhap, if she was able to be of use to him during the daytime, she would win his respect and love there too?
She did not lack intelligence. Oh, she would not pretend to be a match for young Deborah, but she’d been educated well and had a quick mind, understanding and remembering things easily.
Tonight was the Earl of Mitcham’s ball. Both she and Anne had new gowns to wear and were eager to see if the Earl would offer for Sapphira Arnott. At no stage had he overstepped the bounds of propriety, and Lady Mary Featherby was still attempting to attach his interest, but privately she believed his gaze rested on Sapphira in a manner that it did on no other woman. And definitely not Lady Mary Featherby.
Then after the ball, when they came home, she would ask John to come to her room. There she would tell him she wanted to help him in his daily life. Explain that she was used to being involved in the parish and wanted to serve and assist him in any way she could.
It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was the best she could think of.
****
Mitcham’s ballroom was enormously long with pillars flanking tall windows on one side of the room and bracketing enormous mirrors on the other. John and Anne began arguing amicably about whether the columns were Corinthian or Ionic. Their mama ignored them, which led Theodora to assume it was an old argument and one that might never be resolved.
She stared at the columns from behind her fan. She knew both types stood on a base, whereas Doric columns had no base, and there was something about the proportions of the shaft to the decorated capital. It was while she was trying to remember the rule about the ratio of one to the other that she really looked at the decorations on top of the column. And smiled. The sculptor apparently had an imperfect understanding of the rules of symmetry. These carvings fit neither Ionic nor Corinthian rules of architecture but were a mish-mash of both. John and Anne’s argument therefore was a game that was unwinnable.
As soon as there was a break in the conversation, she grinned. “My dear Mr. Smith, did you not understand that instead of being Ionic or Corinthian, these columns are the foremost proponent of the Mitcham style?”
Her mama by law laughed and tapped John on the arm. “She has you beat there.”
Soon men were bowing and writing their names in Anne’s dance card and hers. John had taken the precaution of scribbling his name for every waltz and the supper dance. She really appreciated the way he always took her in to supper. Few husbands were so considerate of their wives. Mayhap it was because they were so newly wed, but she hoped it lasted the Season out.
When Barnabas and Georgina arrived, they were in the same party as the Dowager Lady Arnott, with Simeon, Amos, and Sapphira.
“Do you think this means there’ll be an announcement tonight,” whispered Anne to Theodora from behind their fans.
I don’t know. Mayhap Simeon was coming up to Town anyway. Look at Lady Mary Featherby.” Theodora gave the faintest nod toward the lady, who was hanging onto the earl’s arm with far more tenacity that a true lady ever demonstrated in public.
Sapphira was instantly surrounded by a crowd of young men, all vying to dance with her. The dowager was forced to rap several importunate young men over the knuckles with her fan, and a few others, younger sons in the main, were sent on their way without signing Sapphira’s card either.
During the evening, Theodora watched Sapphira’s face carefully, but she showed no extra favor to any of these men. Only to the Earl of Mitcham did she give a happy rather than polite smile.
The earl, as always, danced only twice with Sapphira. He also danced twice with Lady Mary Featherby. To Theodora’s surprise, he escorted neither lady in to supper. Instead he partnered an elderly lady dressed in a shocking shade of puce and wearing a turban with a long ostrich plume colored to match her gown.
All of which ensured a lively conversation in the carriage on the way home. John’s mama had ascertained from one of her cronies that the lady in puce was some kind of connection of the earl’s, but everyone had guessed that anyway.
When they arrived home, Theodora knew she had to speak with John before he retired to his book room then to bed and the opportunity to tell him she wanted to help him in his daily life was lost for another day. So she slowed her pace and let the other ladies go ahead of her up the stairs.
As soon as they were out of earshot, she spoke quietly. “May I talk to you for a short while this evening?”
He seemed rather startled and she hoped he wasn’t going to be cross. Well, if he refused her tonight, she’d just try again another day.
But he answered mildly, “Of course, my dear. In my book room or in your bedroom?”
Oh I didn’t think of that. I just assumed we’d talk in my bedroom. Swallowing hard she said, “Would my room be appropriate?”
“Very well. Shall we say in fifteen minutes, then?”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
He knew her well. Fifteen minutes was how long it took her maid to undress her and brush out her hair. Fortunately she’d planned what she would say to him. And she’d wear a robe over her night rail so he wouldn’t think she was just seducing him. Although after she’d spoken, if he wanted to be seduced, that would be perfectly all right.
He knocked lightly and entered her room just seconds after her maid departed. He looked so handsome standing there, a few strands of glossy brown hair falling across his brow, his eyes gleaming in the candlelight. He slouched against the wall seeming so relaxed yet all man in that pose, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his hip turned to balance himself.
Her heart beat frantically. She loved him so much, wanted him so much. Yet must not rush him. Even if he never loved her in return, right now, this very moment, he was hers. Being able to help him, support him, during the day would not only give her something worthwhile to do but also enable her to spend time with him, to show him her love. Mayhap even let him grow t
o her love her a little.
She concentrated on explaining her request clearly yet concisely, looking only at his face. Not at his distractingly wonderful body.
“Before we married, I was used to being involved in the parish. There were always people to visit, to help, both in word and deed. My hands and my mind were kept busy.”
She paused for breath. He said nothing but didn’t look angry or bored, so she continued. “Just as my mama runs the vicarage, manages the household there, so too your mama directs your household. But here there are no parishioners for me to visit, no one needing me to take them broth or read to them, sit with them, no one to embroider gifts for.”
There was still no comment from John, so she finished in a rush. “I would like to be a support to you in your daily life. To help you in your business dealings, mayhap act as your secretary in some way, writing your letters, or lists or…or…doing what I can to aid you.”
John just looked at her, one eyebrow slightly raised. Theodora met his gaze, willing him to understand that there must surely be some regular tasks she could do to help him. She had no idea what, precisely, but his secretary and man of business were always surrounded by a multitude of books and papers, which indicated to her they were more than fully occupied.
Slowly he answered her. “There have been some tasks I’ve been putting off. I suppose…But it would be very dull work I’m afraid, copying letters and suchlike…”
“No worse than transcribing invitations to a dinner, I imagine,” she replied.
He seemed surprised. The corners of his mouth tilted up in a tiny smile. “Well no. And you would only need to copy each letter half a dozen times instead of thirty or forty times.”
“Exactly. So I may help you from now on?”
“Yes, you may. I imagine my secretary, Bayles, will greet you with great joy.”
Relief flooded through her. He would let her help him. Her days would be more meaningful from now on, and she would see him for some hours in the daytime instead of only at breakfast. Life was good. “Thank you,” she said jumping up and resting her hand on his arm.
“I should be the one thanking you for offering your time in this way,” he replied, his voice a little hoarse as he looked down at her face. He held her head gently and dropped a soft kiss onto her brow. She tilted her head back farther and offered her lips to him to kiss.
They moved together, him lowering his lips onto hers, she moving closer to him, pressing her soft body against his hard muscles. The kiss went from soft and sweet to hard and passionate in less time than it took to draw a breath.
His tongue was in her mouth, thrusting and driving deep as his hands undid the sash of her robe, pushing it off her shoulders. Without thinking she pressed her body harder against his, reveling in the feel of his manhood digging into her belly. Heat poured off him, making her want him so much the more.
Theodora grabbed his shirt, tugging it out of his breeches so she could place her hands on the warm skin of his back. John groaned deeply and picked her up in his arms, walking the few steps to her bed before placing her gently on the blanket. “Are you sure you’re not too tired for this? It’s very late,” he whispered.
“I’m not tired and I want you to stay,” she replied, her hands still stroking the enticing skin of his back.
“I’m so glad. All I can think about is sinking my cock as deep as possible into your pussy. I need you right now.”
No wonder he lapped my cream like a cat, if men call a woman’s secret place a pussy. And his manhood is called a cock. Well I suppose our joining is rather animalistic.
Then she stopped thinking to embrace him and return his kisses more fervently as myriad emotions washed through from his touch. He was so gentle with her, yet her skin flamed from his touch. She couldn’t get enough of him yet he filled her to the very brim.
He pulled her night rail off over her head then dropped his shirt and breeches onto the floor. Then he was lying over her again, her breast in his mouth, his manhood—cock—dragging its damp head over her thigh. She wiggled under his touch, trying to reach more of him, to stroke his cock, to cup his balls in her hands, but her arms weren’t long enough, so she settled for stroking his back and grabbing onto his shoulders as he sucked her bosoms so deeply into his mouth.
“Enough. I can wait no longer. Get on your hands and knees for me,” he ordered.
At first she wasn’t quite sure what he wanted, but as soon as he draped his body over her back and drove deep into her secret place—pussy—from behind, she appreciated this position. His hands moved from her breasts to her nubbin as he thrust into her, reaching deep inside her, pounding her forward so she had to hold the bedding in both fists to avoid being pushed up the bed from the force of his powerful thrusts.
His entire body covered her back, skin to skin, and with his hands on her front, he seemed to totally envelop her. The only disadvantage was that she couldn’t watch him as he made love to her. Until she realized if she twisted her neck just so, she could watch. His eyes were glazed with desire as he drove into her. His mouth was open, his white teeth gleaming in the candlelight, his breath coming in harsher pants as he worked to bring them both to the peak.
On and on he pumped, their bodies now both coated in sweat, her neck tiring from holding it in this position, but she couldn’t stop watching him strive to bring them both pleasure.
He gritted his teeth and she knew he was ready to release his seed. Desperately she pushed back hard into his strokes, then there it was, that wonderful burst of heat and pleasure, racing from her core through her body as joy unfolded deep inside her.
Together they shuddered and shook as waves of pleasure rolled through them. Then he pulled her down onto the bed, his arms still wrapped around her, one hand still on her breast, the other on her special place.
“Rest now, my sweet,” he whispered into her ear.
And safe and secure in his arms, she did.
Chapter Five
Each morning after breakfast, Theodora now spent an hour or so in the book room with John, and often his secretary and man of business, copying letters to his estate managers. Many of them were to do with his tenants and their families, and she found herself astonished that there were all these people who she’d never met yet who depended on her husband, just as the parishioners depended on her brother.
One day when there were no letters to write, she took out several large sheets of drawing paper and began making a kind of family tree for each of his estates and businesses with the estate manager or business manager at the top, then all his workers, divided by family, underneath. It was so engrossing she didn’t realize how long she’d been sitting at the big table copying names from various ledgers, until she looked up to find John reading her work over her shoulder.
“That’s an excellent way to organize the people. It’ll be much easier to remember who works where and for whom with those diagrams,” he said.
“They are sort of like families, I think. Also, this way I’ll be able to keep track of when a new baby is born so I can send a gift to the family.”
“Send a gift? I don’t send gifts for births. Some of these families have half a dozen children already.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean— It’s just that in the parish— Of course if you don’t want me to—”
She turned in her chair to look him in the face. He didn’t seem cross, but he’d made it quite plain she was interfering. Her heart sank. Just when she thought she’d found a genuine way to be useful to him, to make his life easier, she’d overstepped the boundaries. Yet giving gifts to dependents was traditionally a wife’s role. “If you don’t want me to, of course, I won’t interfere,” she said.
“No, it’s not that at all. You’ve simply made me aware of a lack of consideration on my part. Those who become too old to work are always given a pension adequate to support themselves. But I’d forgotten about the added expense to a man each new mouth to feed brings. A man may have five or si
x children before the first one is old enough to help bring a wage into the family. But I can’t see a way to redress this without causing dissention among those who have received nothing thus far.”
Theodora thought back to the Boxing Day gifts at the vicarage. There were far too many people to give each person a gift, but each child however… “I could gather the birthdates of all the children. Then on Boxing Day each child could receive a gift. At the vicarage each baby and infant received a soft little shirt we’d made for them. Older children were given a honey cake or an apple or a sweet treat. Last Christmas Georgina gave each of the young women a pretty ribbon. We could do something along those lines so it would be seen as a new tradition started by your wife, not something that should be made retrospective.”
“That’s an excellent idea. I like it. But don’t work so hard you become exhausted.”
“I’m not at all tired,” she replied. She smiled at him, so happy he approved of her idea and warmed inside that he was concerned about her. Last night he was worried that I’d be too tired too. He really does care about me. Mayhap one day he will come to love me. Oh I do hope so.
****
On Wednesdays the vicarage family was “at home” to callers, and both Anne and Theodora were eager to go and hear if there was any news about Sapphira.
“For if the Earl of Mitcham is to offer for her, surely it will be while Simeon is in Town instead of having to go out to Kingsdene,” said Anne.
“I’d like to hear what has been decided about Deborah, too,” added Theodora.
“I enjoy talking to Frances Ridley. She feels just as she should on all matters of import,” added his mama.
“I see you have me surrounded.” John laughed. “I surrender. It shall be as you wish, ladies.”
John was also becoming increasingly concerned about his sister, Anne. She was one and twenty now, very much on the shelf, and over the years he’d received several perfectly acceptable offers for her hand. Presentable men of good birth. In each case Anne had solemnly asked him to decline on her behalf as she had no feelings for any of them.
Almost a Virgin (Virgins No More) Page 5