“When did your wife die?”
“When George was ten.” His expression was bleak as he lifted his crystal glass and took a sip of the red wine. “She decided that she preferred drowning in the river there rather than continuing with the tedium of being my wife and George’s mother for a day longer.”
“Goodness.”
Daniel’s mouth twisted with derision. “Is that all you can think of to say? I do not believe goodness, either Beatrix’s or my own, had anything to do with it.”
Of course it was not all Jo had to say. Although it would seem she had her answer as to what scandal had once dogged Daniel’s life. The suicide of his wife would not have escaped the attention of Society, and the scandal of it would have touched both Daniel and his young son.
Jo had sensed for the past few minutes that Daniel was spoiling for an argument. Or, at the very least, attempting to put up barriers between the two of them, first by stating he was old enough to be her father, then by implying he had married for land rather than love. Lastly by revealing his wife had killed herself rather than remain married to him any longer.
Having come to know Daniel somewhat this past week, and having listened to what other people said about him, she knew he was not the selfish man this conversation would have her believe him to be.
Besides, it was of more interest to Jo why he was attempting to erect those barriers between the two of them, rather than anything he had said to her this past few minutes.
He had touched her intimately yesterday, had excited and aroused her, as he himself had been excited and aroused. It had almost seemed as if he could not stop himself from caressing her and learning the ways which brought pleasure to her body. As if it was something he had wanted to do for some time, a part of him having sensed she was a female despite her disguise.
Jo had done a lot of thinking as she lazed in the bath earlier. She accepted that Daniel ultimately had no choice but to either return her directly to Kendall Hall and Edgar or deposit her at her great-aunt’s and afterward inform Edgar of her whereabouts. Either way, she would once again find herself under the guardianship of her obnoxious cousin and whatever nefarious plans he decided to make for her future.
She was already ruined, from her weeks of “cavorting about the countryside dressed as a boy.” So much so that even the unwanted marriage to the despised Owen Pendleton would no longer be a possibility, as had been her intention. This did not mean if she was returned to Edgar that he would not still give her to the other man to ease his debts. She had no doubt Edgar would allow Pendleton to take her virginity and use her for as long as his desire lasted, before returning her to Edgar’s equally disgusting attentions.
Given those two choices, Jo had decided she would once again determine her own future.
Which was why it had been such a disappointment earlier when Daniel had not complimented her on the change in her appearance, although she perhaps better understood the reason now. Daniel was attempting to alienate her by having her believe he was no more worthy of her interest than Owen Pendleton or her cousin Edgar.
Jo considered Daniel a very worthy gentleman. Whatever had or had not happened in his past, he had rescued her, not once or twice, but three times. The first two times from Mickey Bates, the last from those six men in the woods.
As so many men seemed set on taking her virginity, Jo had decided she would rather make that choice for herself.
She had chosen Daniel, and now wished his claim earlier today, the lady is mine, to become fact rather than fiction.
Chapter 7
Jo placed her napkin beside her untouched bowl of soup before standing up. “I am sure there are many more things I could say, but words can so often be misunderstood.”
She could only hope Daniel could not see that her hands were shaking with the enormity of what she was about to do. What she was determined to do. She believed her time here with him was limited, and she did not intend to waste a moment of it.
“No, do not get up.” Jo placed one of those shaking hands on Daniel’s shoulder as he would have done exactly that, feeling how his muscles tensed as she allowed her hand to continue to rest there. “As I was saying… Words can so often be misunderstood, but actions…actions rarely are.” She hitched up the skirt of her gown before straddling and then sitting across Daniel’s thighs. “Just so.” She made sure to keep a confident smile curving her lips to cover her inner nervousness as she instantly felt the throbbing heat of his burgeoning length pressing between her own thighs.
“Josephine!” Daniel moved his hands to grasp Jo about the waist and hold her still as she would have rubbed the heat of her pussy lips along the length of his cock.
“And that is precisely why I prefer to be called Jo.” She gave a teasing shake of her head as she put both her hands on Daniel’s shoulders to prevent him from dislodging her completely. “My grandfather only ever used my full name when he was displeased with me. Are you displeased with me, Daniel?”
Was Daniel displeased with her?
He could barely breathe let alone think, when she was sitting on his thighs and his nostrils and senses were once again filled with the perfume of her arousal and the dampness of her drawers now heated his cock.
He almost spilled himself in his own drawers as Jo leaned forward to nuzzle her lips against the side of his throat. “What are you doing?” he demanded between clenched teeth.
“Choosing while I am still at liberty to do so,” she murmured with satisfaction.
“Choosing?” It was taking every effort of Daniel’s will not to unfasten his breeches and release his cock, to push it through the slit in her drawers and then into her moist and welcoming heat. “Choosing what?”
“In the last month, at least eight men have decided my virginity is theirs for the taking.” Her breath was a warm caress against his skin. “While I am still at liberty to do so, I have decided that I shall be the one to choose, not them.” Her tongue was now a gentle rasp against that same flesh. “I have chosen you.”
Chosen him? To take her virginity?
That was impossible—
“Get out!” he instructed Bedford as the butler entered the room with the obvious intention of removing the soup bowls they had barely touched. The elderly man gave them a startled glance before hastily retreating and closing the door behind him. “Josephine, you cannot do this.” Daniel moved his hands to grasp the tops of her arms. “We cannot do this.” His protest came out as an aching groan as she bit into the lobe of his ear with just enough pressure to send that pleasure/pain directly to his balls.
“Obviously not here, where anyone might walk in and see us, as Bedford just did.” Her rueful chuckle vibrated against Daniel’s throat. “But this.” One of her hands moved down his rapidly rising and falling chest and tensed abdomen before resting the hot palm of her hand against the burgeoning length of his cock. “This tells me we can most certainly do it somewhere. You will need to instruct me how, I am afraid, but I have always been quick to learn new things.”
Every word that left Jo’s lips only increased Daniel’s sexual excitement; inwardly, he still thought of her as Jo, and only verbally used her full name as a way of keeping her at a formal arm’s length.
Something he had obviously and majorly failed to do!
To only think of instructing Jo in physical pleasure, as she requested, to be her first, to have her pleasure him in whatever way he directed her to—and those ways were limitless—caused the juices to leak from the top of his cock and dampen his own underclothes.
She might still be a virgin, but she was also a mature woman of five and twenty, and her actions indicated she was more than ready to experience physical intimacy. Just not with a bastard like Pendleton or Cheshire. Nor with those ruffians of earlier today who were set on molesting and then raping her rather than pleasuring her.
After the immediate effect her changed appearance had on him earlier, Daniel had tried his very best to put a distance between them by poi
nting out his age and widowhood and the reasons for his marriage. He had even told her of Beatrix’s suicide, a scandal he had not spoken of or shared with anyone for a very long time.
Jo still seemed intent on seducing him.
His fingers tightened about the tops of her arms, enough to be able to force her torso up and away from him. Perhaps not the best plan, when Daniel now had an unobstructed view of the swell of her breasts spilling over the low neckline of her gown.
Perhaps he should have instructed that a nun’s habit be supplied for Jo to wear this evening rather than one of Amelia’s flatteringly feminine gowns. Although he doubted, in his present state of arousal, even that would have succeeded in dampening his desire for her.
Daniel forced his gaze upward. “I cannot—”
“Oh but you can,” she purred as she rubbed her pussy against his cock.
Yes, of course he could. It was the last vestiges of his control that held him back from doing so. “You must be absolutely certain of what you are doing.” His voice sounded harsh. “Be fully aware that whatever does or does not take place between the two of us tonight, I never intend to marry again.” His mouth twisted with displeasure at the very thought of it. “So if this is an attempt on your part to trick me into matrimony rather than the plans your cousin has for you—”
“It never even occurred to me to do such a thing!” The astonishment on her face appeared sincere.
Even so… “I will never marry again, do you understand?”
“I understand.”
“Do you?” he bit out. “My wife was your age when we married—yes, she was seven years older than me. Experienced too,” he recalled bleakly at Jo’s surprised expression. “She took great delight in telling me her first lover had been a much older and experienced man, a married friend of her father’s. He ended their affair six months later. Having already given away her virginity, Beatrix apparently lost count of the men she shared her body with after that.”
Jo frowned her concern. “Daniel, you do not have to tell me these things.”
“Oh but I do.” He put her fully away from him, waiting until Jo was steady on her feet before releasing her and standing up. “It was never a love match, you understand. Our fathers arranged the marriage. My own father apparently felt able to overlook Beatrix’s less than spotless reputation because of the land. I had no say in the matter.”
“Surely you could not be made to marry someone you did not love.”
He snorted his disgust at Jo’s naiveté. “I was very young and still under my father’s control. He assured me that one wife was as good as another, and the land we would acquire in the match was far more important than any lack of feelings for my wife.”
“But surely Beatrix…?”
“Her reputation preceded her, and marriage to the son and heir of the Earl of Latham must have appeared a godsend to her. Except it was not,” he added grimly. “I was a boy when she wished for a man in her bed. A disappointment, I believe she called me. Amongst other things.” His hands clenched at his sides as he related those painful memories. “We ceased sharing a bed once she became pregnant with George, and remained that way until her death.” He looked at Jo. “Beatrix was pregnant when she took her life. By no stretch of the imagination could the child have ever been mine,” he added bitterly. “She chose to drown herself when I refused to accept the child as mine.”
Jo could not pretend not to be shocked by the things Daniel had told her. And heartsick. For him. For Beatrix too, for the bleakness of the life she had chosen and made for herself.
But Daniel…
Daniel had been so young, too young, to have suffered through years of a loveless marriage.
“You were only nine and twenty when she died. Could you not have—”
“Married again?” Daniel taunted. “For what reason? I already have my son and heir.”
“But what of love?” Jo’s frown felt pained. “Did you never wish for someone to love you? To have someone in your life you might love in return?”
“And therein lies the problem of the two of us entering into a physical relationship,” he derided. “Women are unlike men—apart from Beatrix, apparently—and seem unable to treat physical pleasure as being separate from love. Many of the ladies of the demimonde also believe that one day, one of their customers will fall in love with them and whisk them away to their fairy tale castle where they will live happily ever after. Love is for other people, not me.” The last was said with finality.
“One bad experience—”
“All those years of marriage to a shrew who hated me was not a bad experience, it was a life sentence!” he came back harshly. “One I do not ever intend to repeat. Do you still wish for me to instruct you on physical pleasure?” he taunted.
Too late, Jo realized exactly what Daniel had been doing these past few minutes. Realizing his earlier efforts to repulse her had not worked, he was now challenging her to continue along the path she had chosen by assuring her it would not result in marriage.
Ordinarily, Jo would have accepted his challenge—the willful and outspoken parts of Jo Turner’s character were also her own—but there was absolutely no way the two of them could make love together when Daniel was plagued with those unhappy memories of his marriage and bristling with resentment as a result. Something Jo had no doubt he had been fully aware of when he embarked upon this conversation.
Jo tilted her chin. “And if I were to say yes?”
“Are you?”
“I asked first.”
He gave the ghost of a smile at her challenging attitude. “You have courage, I grant you that. But then I knew of that courage after discovering your true gender yesterday, and today you shared with me the reason for the disguise. I also understand your fear of being returned to the guardianship of your cousin.” His tone softened somewhat. “But this is not the answer. I will write to your great-aunt tomorrow and see what can be done to circumvent that ever happening.”
“And if that should fail for whatever reason?”
His eyes narrowed. “Then I will put the fear of God into Cheshire before I allow him to take you away from here. Your cousin is well aware I have several powerful friends who will ensure I am able to back up such a threat,” he assured her grimly.
Jo recognized the finality in his statement. Not just of the end of this conversation but of any hope she may have had of the two of them ever entering into any sort of intimate relationship. “Would it be possible to ask Bedford to bring a tray of tea and biscuits to my bedchamber?” She had completely lost her appetite, but tea on its own might make her feel even more nauseous than she already did.
“Jo—”
“Please.” She held up her hand to warn Daniel not to attempt to touch her, as he seemed about to do. If he touched her, then her last shreds of dignity would crumble, and any show of pity on his part would result in the shedding of the tears now stinging her eyes and burning the back of her throat. “I wish you a good night.” She turned and fled from the room before she made a complete fool of herself.
As if she had not already done that by offering herself in that shameless and blatant way and having been rejected.
But worse even than her own humiliation, she felt Daniel’s past pain and disillusionment.
“Shall I clean up the glass, my lord, or leave it until later?”
The glass being the one Daniel had thrown across the room after Jo’s hasty departure from the dining room and which now lay shattered against the fireplace. The red wine it had contained dripped down the marble and was now staining the rug.
That release of tension had done nothing to alleviate Daniel’s feelings of frustration. With himself, not Jo.
Could he not have found a gentler way of refusing the gift Jo offered him instead of deliberately alienating her by regaling her with the details of his unhappy marriage and Beatrix’s suicide?
But to have done so would have given her false hope where he was concerned.
&
nbsp; Even the happy marriages of several of his friends and the connubial bliss of his son, George, to Amelia could not take away the sting of the remembered humiliation and unhappiness of those eleven years of marriage to Beatrix.
He’d had many years since Beatrix died to hone his sexual skills, of course, and could no longer be accused of “inept inexperience” or a “lack of stamina.” At eighteen, he had lacked control of his sexual urges, and many of his encounters with Beatrix had been over shortly after they began. All these years later, Daniel was now able to control and give pleasure to a woman all night long, and very often did when he was in London, before taking his own release.
A control which seemed to evaporate the moment he was in Jo’s presence.
Still, he’d had no reason to deliberately hurt her in that way. Her actions these past weeks to save herself from her cousin’s scandalous intentions for her showed her to be a woman of great courage and determination. As had been her offer to him this evening. She was not deserving of Daniel’s scorn, nor his regaling her with those bitter memories of Beatrix.
He still had no intention of taking Jo up on her offer, but he did owe her an apology for having humiliated her.
“You may clear the glass now,” he informed Bedford evenly. “Along with accepting my apology for having made such a mess in the first place. You may clear away the dinner things too. My guest will not be coming downstairs again this evening, and my own appetite has completely deserted me. Oh, and Bedford…?” He paused and turned once he had reached the doorway of the dining room.
“My lord?”
“Nothing happened here this evening.”
“Of course not, my lord.” The butler turned his attention to dealing with collecting the shattered glass.
“Thank you,” Daniel murmured flatly before leaving the room.
“Your tea, my lady.”
Jo stood abruptly from where she had been sitting in a chair beside the window in the last of the evening’s sunshine, hot tears falling steadily down her cheeks.
Tamed by the Earl Page 7