by Burnett, May
“When we get to the inn, I would like you to take a more active role – I will show you how to go on.” He realised that she might already know, and his pleasure deflated a little. But he’d be damned if he asked.
“I don’t know much,” she said, as though divining his thoughts. “But you’ll find I am quick to learn new things.”
“So much the better.” He shoved all doubts aside and possessed himself of those lovely lips for a deep kiss, using his tongue.
“Oh,” she said at the end. “That could be disgusting with the wrong man.”
Did she mean he wasn’t the wrong man? That he was the right man for her? He’d make damn sure she never got the chance to do this with anyone else. “You haven’t done this before?”
“You mean kissing? Not this way. Is it often done?”
He gave a strangled laugh. She was killing him with her naïve questions. “Yes. And I warn you it will be done regularly between us. Kissing is a favourite activity of mine, and it can be done more quickly and often than – er – the other.”
He heard himself lecturing and shut up, appalled. He really should not have had all that champagne. It might have slowed his wits, but had not impeded his readiness, at least; his member was straining against its confinement, unable to grasp why it had to wait any longer.
He kissed her again, looked searchingly into her wide blue eyes. She might not know it yet, but she wanted him. He found his wife strangely untutored. If he had not known better he’d have sworn that she was untouched. Well, they’d have that talk she wanted to press on him after he’d thoroughly enjoyed her; it could wait that long. In the meantime he’d enjoy the illusion of being the first and only man to possess Susan.
“Have you done it with many women?” She looked at him questioningly, not judging, just curious.
“Not all that many. During wartime, it was often difficult to find anyone but whores, whom one does not normally kiss.” Was the alcohol running away with his tongue? “I don’t like whores much, they are grasping, and risky to a man’s health. War was quite dangerous enough without that.”
“I see.”
He doubted that she did. What a very improper subject to discuss with a new bride … but on the other hand, if he wanted honesty between the two of them, he’d better go ahead and set the example.
“Even before my brother died and I inherited his title and debts, I never had enough blunt to support a wife or a permanent mistress,” he explained. “My encounters were limited to occasions where mutual pleasure was the object, and no money changed hands.”
“What is the difference? Apart from kissing?”
“A woman who does not exchange her body for money will expect to receive pleasure instead,” he said. “The man has to exert himself more.”
“In other words, you have learned how to please a woman well?”
“You will have to judge for yourself. I have not had many complaints.”
To cut off the shocking questions, he kissed her again, even more deeply. Even if it made him more uncomfortable, it was better than to torment himself with discussing what they could not yet fully indulge in. Soon. Just another couple of hours …. Why had he hired such awful slugs for the carriage? They had to be the slowest horses he’d ever been cursed with. Or was the coachman falling asleep?
Somehow the time passed. Since the wedding had taken place in the early afternoon, he’d engaged a suite in a respectable inn only some three hours from London. Several times before their arrival, he cursed himself for having to travel even that far. Only the consideration that a gentleman did not take his wife for the first time in a carriage prevented him from doing just that. Maybe later, when she was more experienced …. But carriages might stop or have an accident any moment. He could not ever subject Susan to such possible embarrassment.
In the meantime North induced a delightful state of acquiescence in Susan. She was clearly going to allow him any liberties he cared to take, and was even timidly starting to reciprocate. The feel of her soft fingers caressing his neck and hair, moulding his arm and shoulder muscles, made him curse the layers of clothing between them.
When they were finally ensconced in their suite after a very quick dinner, North was surprised to find it was only half-past seven, barely nightfall. He gave strict instructions not to disturb them, locked the door and fell on his bride like a ravening wolf on a helpless lamb – not that she appeared at all afraid. In an amazingly short time he had her bare to the skin on the large four-poster bed. He had left the candles lit, so as to see what he was doing, and their soft light played over her beautiful curves. Susan coloured a little at feeling his hot gaze on her body, but did not try to cover herself, and indeed had little cause to hide. Her overpowering loveliness should be hanging in some museum, to be admired by future generations … instead it was warm and real, and reserved for him, right here and now. How had he deserved this?
Now at last he could give proper attention to her beautiful firm breasts and pink nipples, alternately using fingers, lips and tongue with care and thoroughness. Susan put her arms around his neck and seemed to like what he was doing, judging by her rapid heartbeat and occasional moans.
North covered her breasts with his large brown hands and said ‘Mine’ in a challenging voice.
“Yes, all yours,” she readily agreed. He let his hands wander downwards towards the triangle of dark hair, and slightly parted her legs with his hands.
“And this?”
“All yours as well,” she murmured. “As you are mine.” Her tone made it clear that she would only consent to such possessiveness if it was mutual. He found he had no objection. With this bounty in his bed, he’d never need or want to look at another woman.
“No more talking,” he decided, revelling in his power, before bringing his hands and lips into play again. Pausing only briefly to tear off his own clothes, he brought her to a state of readiness with as much finesse as his own burning desire allowed, and finally penetrated her when he could not stand to wait even for an instant longer.
Something was not right. He met brief resistance, and for an instant felt her body stiffen in his arms. But before his befuddled brain had made sense of these unexpected phenomena, he was fully embedded in her tight channel, and nothing else mattered. He had reached paradise. North set an easy rhythm at first, then gave in to his own body’s needs and rocked to an explosive release. She had not come with him, he realised half guiltily. Of course inexperienced women did not immediately learn to reach the peak, even if they were as talented as Susan. Inexperienced? The extent of her inexperience struck him with stunning force.
He sat up, separating their bodies, and stared at her broodingly. She looked back calmly, still slightly out of breath.
“Did I hurt you?”
“Only for a moment. It was not nearly as bad as I was told it could be.”
“This was your first time.” He no longer felt the slightest doubt on the matter. If he’d paid attention, he’d have realised it much earlier. From that first kiss…
“Yes,” she confirmed, unnecessarily.
“Then why the devil did you tell me that rigmarole about needing a husband? Why marry me at all? None of this makes any sense. I do not like it when I’m played for a fool.” North found it hard to muster indignation in the afterglow of that spectacular release, but he had to focus – get to the bottom of this, right now.
What hope was there for their marriage, if it was all based on a lie? Honesty was just as important as virginity – more so, in his eyes. He eyed his newly debauched bride warily. She did not look guilty, as she sat up against the headboard of the bed, and drew the sheet over her body. Evidently her first experience of sex had not yet eradicated maidenly modesty, or maybe she was cold. North himself felt hot all over, and was already getting hard again.
Maybe he’d finally get the truth out of her. It certainly was time.
Chapter 12
Susan took a deep breath. “I did not precise
ly lie to you, though I admit I misled you. If you had not forbidden me to discuss the matter, I would have told you everything in the coach earlier today.” She did not add, perhaps next time you’ll listen to me, but the words were invisibly hanging in the air.
“Pray do so now,” he invited in a clipped voice. Susan felt a pang. Was he so unaffected by the intimacy they had just shared?
“Our bargain is real enough, and I’m holding you to it. I merely omitted a few significant details.” He looked sceptical and she paused another moment, marshalling her thoughts. How was she supposed to be coherent after being tumbled like that? But she had to try, it was vitally important to secure his cooperation. “You remember the Collingtons’ house party, what a nuisance Lord Fenton made of himself? I was forced to slap his face at one point. He had been trying to compromise me into accepting his suit.”
“I was in the card room at the time, and only heard of it at breakfast the next day. You sat close to me. Are you saying - ?”
“By the next morning the damage was done, though I did not yet know the full extent. After receiving my slap, Fenton stalked off and drank heavily.”
“I’m not surprised. Nine out of ten men would do the same, after such a humiliation.”
“I gather he was blazingly angry, deeming himself insulted, and still determined to force me into marriage one way or another. During the middle of the night he came to my room, reasoning in his drunken state that if he could compromise me far away from possible saviours, I’d have no choice but to marry him.”
It was hard to sound calm, and she had to fight a tremor that was threatening to creep into her voice. Anger – no, scalding fury, and hatred, emotions hitherto alien to her nature. North was staring at her face in the dim candlelight.
“Fenton tried to rape you? But –,” he broke off in confusion, obviously realising that if she’d been a virgin until this night, clearly she had not been taken by Fenton.
Susan forced herself to sound impersonal, as though she was speaking of strangers. “Fenton was unaware that I had exchanged rooms with my friend, Miss Trevelyan. The one she had been given was draughty, and she’s highly susceptible to colds. In the darkness, Fenton never discovered his mistake. Poor Abby struggled, but had no chance against a big brute like him.” She could not keep the fury from creeping into her voice. “Fortunately Abby had not brought her maid, and mine came to the other room. When I arrived to fetch Abby just before breakfast, she was hysterical and talking wildly of killing herself. It took half an hour to piece the story together, and I managed to calm her down enough to stay in bed, supposedly with a headache, while I went to show myself at breakfast. We swore to each other that nobody would ever need to know.”
North frowned, perhaps recalling Fenton’s surprise when he’d seen Susan buttering her toast at the breakfast table, acting as though nothing at all had happened. “I wish I’d known. You sat there calmly eating, facing the man down?”
“I had no choice, if I wanted to save poor Abby’s good name, as well as my own. She has no dowry to speak of, and her stepmother would throw her out if even a breath of scandal touched her. The one thing that gave us hope was that Fenton himself was unaware he had got the wrong woman. And he could hardly demand my hand with the claim that he had forced me – not when I have three brothers eager to avenge any insult. Poor Abby has no brothers, and her father is at sea. Fenton would not have married her, had we made his actions public.”
“I’m not so sure. Society might have forced him to.”
“Even had he been shamed into it, can you imagine the kind of marriage it would have been? The very idea of having to submit to Fenton again threw poor Abby into complete hysterics, and I didn’t blame her.”
“Poor girl. But I still don’t see … ah, of course.”
“The unfairness of it was infuriating. I’ve observed in other cases how girls are made to suffer even if they are completely blameless, particularly if they have no wealth and titles and influential families to support them. I did not see Abigail again for some weeks, as I went on to another house party. When I returned to London, she told me – at Almack’s, of all places – that Fenton’s actions had certain disastrous consequences. It could so easily have been me. I had to succour her, yet as an unmarried debutante I was completely helpless. All my inherited money was no good to me or to her. The moment the story became public, I would have been prevented from even seeing Abby again. You know the rules of the ton, how inflexible they are. Abby seriously contemplated jumping into the Thames. It cost me considerable effort to persuade her to wait and let me find some other solution.”
“So that’s why Fenton interrupted our wedding? Had I known the story I’d have killed him, and so would your brothers and father.” North sounded completely disgusted – hopefully only with Fenton, and not her.
“I know, but if even the smallest breath of what happened came out, poor Abigail would be ruined. And it’s not the child’s fault either. I had to think of the greater good, no matter how many people I had to mislead and grieve.”
“I suspected that Fenton had forced you, but you responded so sweetly to me, I could not square that with my theory. So the bastard raped the wrong woman and didn’t even notice! He must have been very drunk. Too bad he did not have a bit more, to fall insensible, or at least be unable to perform.”
“Alcohol can make men unable to do what we just did?” She fleetingly thought of all that champagne North had downed at the wedding breakfast. It had not slowed him down, that she could see.
“When you’re very drunk, yes. Clearly Fenton was not yet at that stage.” He was silent for a few seconds. “So you feel responsible.”
“Yes, though rationally I know the guilt is all Fenton’s. Yet since Abby was victimised in my stead, it is my responsibility to save her.”
“What exactly was your plan?”
“As I said, an unmarried female would have little chance to do anything. Either Abby or I had to marry right away, preferably a man who lived far from the capital.” She looked at him apprehensively. “I at least had my dowry as an incentive, but the kind of man who would be moved to an immediate wedding with it, would likely prove a very poor sort of husband. It was quite a conundrum.”
“What I don’t understand is how you decided upon me. Was it just the fact that my estate is in Cornwall, far away?”
“That was the least of it. I was not willing, even for Abby, to marry an unprincipled fortune hunter. During the Collington house party I happened to overhear your conversation with Lord Thomas, your creditor – right after the slapping incident. At the time I just thought it an interesting tidbit of information, but when I cast about for an honourable man in immediate need of my dowry, I remembered it.”
“Good God. You proposed to me because you’d overheard me argue with that rake?”
“I liked what I heard. I still believe that I made the right gamble, given the constraints under which I laboured.” Could a man even imagine the way a girl of her class was hedged about and sheltered, hampered in almost every direction?
Rather to her surprise, he did not seem angry any more. He settled himself against the headboard too, and pulled her into his lap, sheet and all.
“Go on.”
She sighed and relaxed, resting her head against his naked shoulder. It was a very comfortable shoulder; she could get used to this.
“There was another problem – Fenton was hiding from my brother’s challenge, but he sent me threatening notes, that he was going to tell all and sundry I had lain with him. Unsigned, but it was easy to guess the sender. That put more pressure on me, but Abby’s condition was urgent enough already.” Those had been utterly miserable days, when she had nearly despaired of finding a solution that would save Abby as well as herself from scandal.
“I see,” her husband said after a pause, absently rubbing her shoulder. “I realize that Abby’s child is an innocent party – but it does seem awkward that Fenton’s son, if it should be a b
oy, should be our heir. What if he should take after his sire? And while everyone else suffers, Fenton, that degenerate, gets off scot-free. I am sorry, but that part sits ill with me.”
“I am hoping it will be a girl,” Susan confessed. “I too have somewhat mixed feelings about this child. I’m not altogether sure I want to be a mother that soon, but I daresay I can learn.” She was good at nearly everything she tried; how hard could it be?
“You might have to learn anyway – had you not considered that what we just did might well get you pregnant, too? As your friend’s case proves, it only takes one time.”
“Oh, dear.” How had she never considered that potential complication?
“Before you suggest it, I am not going to wait for several months before we do it again. I plan on making love to you every night, and not always at night or in bed.” His voice was implacable.
She was staring at the new problem he’d raised. “It would be awkward to have two children within three months of each other, wouldn’t it?”
“Not to mention, physically impossible.” He started to laugh. She lightly hit him on the arm, the only part she could easily reach from her position on his lap. “It isn’t funny, North!” But he only laughed harder; she could feel his chest tremble underneath her, until she had to smile herself, ruefully.
“I confess I have trouble finding humour in the situation, because it’s literally been a life-and-death issue for Abby and me. I also felt terribly guilty for deceiving you, and my poor father and brothers. Everybody treated you so badly, and thought the worst – it made me furious, but after all it was my own doing. I’m glad you are taking this so well.”
“This whole tangle of deception must have been quite difficult to sustain for two girls. Nobody else knew?”
“Not even my maid.” Havers had been wonderful with hair and clothes, but an inveterate gossip. She had left her maid behind in London, suggesting strongly that remote Cornwall would not suit her. Hopefully there would be someone suitable available, to hire locally.