Winthrop Trilogy Box Set

by Burnett, May

  Barnaby, for his part, did not feign any false dismay, and sported an elated grin. “This news calls for a toast – let’s drink to your narrow escape.” He signalled to the waiter. “Bring us a bottle of your best French champagne!”

  Chapter 34

  After two glasses of champagne, on top of the wine they had with the food, Milla felt a tiny bit giddy as she walked back to her lodgings, arm in arm with Barnaby. How often would they walk like this, in future years? He was over a head taller, but they fit together well. She liked that he was so tall and fit; he would need that strength to keep up with her.

  “We have the place all to ourselves, at last,” she said, glad her voice sounded calm and steady, not the slightest bit slurred.

  They had not slept at all the previous night. Fatigue was waiting just behind her keyed-up state; it would not be fair to expect him to do justice to the first time when he, too, must be exhausted. They parted after a deep kiss, and caresses that promised more in the near future. She went to bed in her own room, and he took over one of the others… she did not even know which, for sleep claimed her the moment her head met the feather pillow.

  The next morning, they had to fend for themselves yet again. Milla brewed tea while Barnaby went out to buy fresh bread and pastries; they found butter and jam and half of a ham in the pantry. She had offered to do the shopping, since she spoke German. Barnaby claimed that, for a simple transaction, it was not necessary to be fluent, and indeed he managed perfectly well.

  Louis, Veronique, and Marie returned shortly before lunchtime. Milla explained about the arrest of their opponents, their utter defeat, with the exception of the Prussian who had made his escape in time.

  “At last we are done here in Regensbad,” Veronique concluded. “I am glad. What now?”

  “Now, you can begin your new life in the Americas, and Barnaby and I shall marry.”

  “About that, I have heard of an Anglican divine resident in Munich,” Louis announced. “We have to return there anyway, to arrange the transfer of the funds for our new destination. We can witness your wedding before we part, Milla.”

  “If Lambert comes through, you may be pardoned – albeit posthumously,” Milla told him. “For the moment, it makes little difference, but if you should wish to travel to France in later life, it might come in useful.”

  “Thank you,” Veronique hugged her. “You are an angel, all you are doing for us…” There was an unusual sheen in her fine dark eyes.

  Milla shrugged, uncomfortable with praise. “That is the first time anyone has said that of me,” she said lightly. “Can it be that I am reformed, without noticing it?”

  “If not, I shall do my best to help you become more angelic,” Barnaby said with a crooked smile. From his wry expression, she deduced that he harboured no illusions on her nature. Good. She wanted him to accept her as she was, not to idealize her in any way. Ideals were so difficult to live up to, while sharing what she had with her friends, and making friends of her staff, was merely old-accustomed habit for Milla. If it made her an odd duck among aristocrats, so be it.

  “Very well; let’s start packing,” she decided. “This place does not have enough beds anyway.”

  Veronique sent her a quizzical look. Milla did her best to remain inscrutable.

  “How can I help?” Barnaby asked. “The sooner we are ready to depart, the better. I have never been to Munich, but if we are to be married there, already I cannot wait for my first sight of the place.”

  “I’ll order another carriage and team of four, for three in the afternoon,” Louis announced.

  “Make it two; with Mr. Winthrop’s things as well as ours we’ll need more space. And the Dürer must be treated with greatest care.”

  “Oui, mon general.”

  “I wonder if I shall say that to you, at some point in our future?” Barnaby murmured. As soon as Veronique and Marie had bustled off to pack, he caught her in a tight hug, very different from Veronique’s. “I love you, sweetheart.” He kissed her passionately. Again she felt that tingle all over her body, and a rising flush.

  “You will call me wife, or my dear, or just Milla,” she said when they were done. “I don’t want to order you around, but neither do I plan to be obedient and allow you to regulate my life.”

  “Good. We’ll work it out.”

  “You don’t have any misgivings or doubts?”

  “Unless you suddenly turn blue and grow wings and flutter away through the window, I am ready for anything you throw at me, Milla. I want a life of adventure, with you at my side.”

  “Good. As long as there are no illusions… that is what I want too. All that stands in the way now, are a few words in front of a divine.”

  “And to sign the register,” he pointed out. “Our families may resent not being present on the occasion. They may press for another ceremony back in England.”

  Milla shuddered at the thought. “Once is enough for me. All that bother about dresses and bridesmaids and tradition is not for me – though I daresay I could stand it, if you wish for it, darling.”

  “No, I am of one mind with you there. Abby can give a reception for us when we return, but by then I hope to feel so married that any second ceremony would be entirely superfluous.”

  Chapter 35

  For a couple who abhorred fuss and bother, the simple wedding in a Protestant Church in the outskirts of Munich was ideal. Barnaby had asked Milla several times if she was truly satisfied with such a simple occasion, without their families, but to his relief she had held firm. In this, as in so many other things, she differed from the common run of females. He was a lucky man.

  Since there was no mass said, the wedding was short, but they would still be bound for the rest of their lives. Barnaby gave his responses in a firm, strong voice, conscious of the solemnity of the promise he made. Milla’s response was just as clear, without the slightest trace of hesitation. At last!

  The witnesses had to be recruited from the local parish, since Louis and Veronique were ineligible as Roman Catholics, but no matter. Finally, Barnaby was able to slide the simple gold ring they had chosen on Milla’s slender finger. His heart beat fast in relief and elation.

  As they left the Church, it was late afternoon. Not long now until Barnaby could make Milla his own in every sense. His wife – his wife! – looked more lovely than ever, in an elegantly demure black and white dress trimmed with jet and seed pearls.

  “Hello, Mrs. Winthrop,” he said after kissing her. “Thank you.” He did not elaborate for what … but that she had chosen him, out of the dozens of men who must have vied for her hand, was a miracle he still could not fully believe.

  She touched his lips with her soft hand. “Don’t say that … just tell me that you love me.”

  “I do, so very much.”

  “And I love you, Barnaby,” she said softly. “Husband.”

  His heart beat faster yet, and his neck cloth strangled him. Not long now. He had waited for years, he could maintain control a little longer. Couldn’t he?

  “My felicitations,” Louis said to Barnaby. The two couples had taken separate lodgings in the best hotel, not far from the City Hall. Marie had her own room, on a higher floor. Soon they would be alone… An hour, two… Barnaby felt a physical urge to carry his bride off to their suite in his arms. All he did, however, was to enfold her hand in his.

  “This lack of pomp reminds me of my own wedding,” Veronique said a little wistfully. “Father was opposed, so we had to prepare it in secret, without his knowledge. I did have some cousins and my aunt there. And Louis’ mother was still alive. She did not altogether approve of the match, but she came.”

  “Your father said you would regret it, when we told him afterwards,” Louis recalled.

  “Well, he was wrong. It has not been easy, especially when I believed you had perished, but I have not regretted it for a single moment.” Veronique’s voice rang with sincerity.

  Barnaby looked into Milla’s eyes – b
oth of them must be hoping that after many years of marriage, they would be able to say as much with such conviction. They had everything in their favour, and did not need to risk their necks in espionage missions. Milla might be reckless at times, but she was loyal to those few she grudgingly admitted into her heart. She had made him work for her affection, but that was all right. Neither would she easily turn aside for the blandishments of some other man.

  When at last they were alone in their suite after an early dinner, Barnaby reminded himself to be patient, however difficult it might be. Milla needed tenderness as much as passion, in light of the early bad memories she had mentioned. From this day on, intimacy must bring only happy memories to his wife. He savoured the words, yet again. Milla, married to him, Barnaby Winthrop. At last, all was right in his world.

  She was not shy as they undressed each other. Barnaby forced himself to slow down, to enjoy every moment, this first time of many… this very first time with the woman he had promised to cherish, to worship with his body. And worship was the right word, as old-fashioned and religious as it might sound. What he felt for Milla went far beyond affection, or even love.

  When he uncovered Milla’s full, firm breasts, he had to pause for a long moment in silent admiration. They were even more perfect than in his fantasies, neither small nor overlarge, crowned with small pink nubs in a circle of darker pink.

  “You can touch,” Milla said with a touch of humour. “For now, they are all yours.”

  For now? After a moment, he relaxed. She must be thinking ahead to nursing his babe – their babe. Lucky babe, though he might persuade her to use a wet nurse, and leave him in sole possession of these luscious globes.

  Soon, he was not merely touching, but tasting and licking at her bounty.

  She squirmed a little. “That tickles, but not in a bad way. And I’m getting very warm, almost hot.”

  He looked up from his delicious activity. “Do tell me more about that tingle, love.” His apprehensions that he might not be able to arouse her receded. She responded to him, as he did to her. His stiff member strained after its destination, and his balls ached with waiting, but he would not hurry. While his tongue continued to lick at her tender breast, one of his hands crept downwards. Milla’s own hands were busy exploring his shoulders, arms, and back. “Ahh...” she gasped a little later, “that makes the tingling much stronger.”

  “It is supposed to.” He transferred his attention back to her sweet mouth. “If anything I do is unpleasant or irritating, say so immediately. I want to please you in everything, Milla.”

  “You are … aah… do some more of that, please.”

  No need to say please, when he was going out of his mind with eagerness. He dropped a small kiss on her perfect earlobe and proceeded to nuzzle her sensitive neck. Every single inch of her was perfect, not only because nature had produced a masterwork – because she was Milla, the woman to whom his heart had flown as soon as they met. He would never let go of her again.

  “Ohh!” she gasped. “This feels… really strange.”

  He paused instantly. “Strange in a good or bad way?”

  “Definitely not bad. Go on, do it some more.”

  Clearly, Milla was not one of those prudish women who shrank back from a man’s touch, though her childhood experiences could well have given her a permanent disgust. Thanking his lucky stars, he continued his slow campaign of seduction.

  “How does that feel, love?” He had a good idea, since she was now writhing rhythmically, rubbing her hot, silky skin against his body.

  She was no longer able to reply other than with a moan. Carefully, tenderly, he nudged her legs further apart. Now came the difficult part, the one new husbands the world over dreaded. The pain of breaching a maidenhead could not only spoil the mood, but lead to long-lasting dislike of the marital act. Barnaby's breath was fast, harsh, and his control was close to breaking.

  But control could be loosened at last. Milla had turned pliant and nearly boneless under his ministrations. All signs were propitious, as she was slick and relaxed. With supreme effort, he managed to find a last smidgen of restraint, until she widened her legs a little more in unspoken invitation. Unable to suppress a growl of deep triumph and possession, almost animal-like, Barnaby drove into her sweet depths.

  Milla did not flinch, but collaborated till they found the position most pleasurable for both. Instead of lying under him like a virgin sacrifice, she began to move in counterpoint to his strokes, instinctively guessing what to do… perhaps she had sought practical advice from Veronique. If so, he was grateful. What had loomed as a difficult challenge in his imagination, to make Milla enjoy her first experience of marital intimacy, had turned out far easier than he’d feared.

  Not that he could think coherently at this particular moment, when his entire body and mind were focused on achieving the satisfaction of which he had dreamed countless times in the past two years. Yes! She was his, at last, his woman, forever. What had seemed like a distant dream back in London was glorious reality now. He released his seed with an inarticulate shout of triumph, quite unlike his behaviour on past occasions, with women he only wanted to forget. None of them had been Milla, his beloved wife.

  After recovering his breath, he kissed her and wrapped his arms around her damp body. “Thank you, love. It will only become better with more practice, but for me, this was already wonderful. Did I hurt you?”

  “Just a momentary twinge.” She had recovered her ability to articulate. “So this is what it’s like!”

  “As I said, in future it will be much better. It takes a little time for a woman to experience the fullness of it.”

  “It was quite pleasant already… How long does it take to learn to do it well and truly enjoy it?”

  “In your case, not long at all. You obviously have a talent for sensual pleasure, and I’ll help you develop it.” Not tonight, as she would be sore, but soon.

  She traced his nipple with her index finger, playfully. “You are very skilled.”

  He smiled at the compliment. “No more than normal, but I’m very eager to find out what pleases you most, what you like best, how to make you lose control …”

  “And there are also things you particularly like, that I should learn?” From her provocative smile, she already knew the answer.

  “I will be the happiest husband on earth if you do.” He kissed her.

  She tenderly stroked her hand over his chest. “It’s only fair if we apply ourselves equally. I love you, Barnaby, and I want you to enjoy this part of our marriage.”

  He chuckled. “If I enjoyed it much more, I would burst into flames here in our wedding bed.” He loved that she liked to touch him, to learn his body’s planes and muscles.

  Her hand stopped on his shoulder. “As hot as that? You made me heat up, too, more than I expected. It was like a glow all over, but especially the skin.”

  “Next time I’ll try to fan those flames higher, till we are consumed simultaneously. And reborn after, like the phoenix.” He plucked her hand from his shoulder and kissed her sensitive palm.

  “Two phoenixes, soaring into the sky. I look forward to it.” She smiled. “Indeed, I would not mind attempting flight right now.”

  Was that a challenge? “Well then, let’s see how far we can proceed tonight. I shall never get enough of you, my sweet witch.” Milla was in his blood, in his skin, in the deepest part of his heart and mind.

  With a soft sigh, she put her white arms around him. “Good.”

  Chapter 36

  London, October 1821

  Leaving Marie and their luggage at Barnaby’s elegant home, within an hour of their arrival in London Milla and Barnaby set out to visit Branscombe House, only a few minutes’ drive away from their own house. Barnaby was impatient to see his family, and Milla was looking forward to seeing Abby again, after more than two years abroad. Their butler had relayed the happy news that Abby had birthed a healthy girl two days previously, who was to be christen
ed Alexandra Theodora Camilla Winthrop.

  Milla was glad that they were in good time for the christening, three weeks hence. To be a godmother would be a new role for her, but Barnaby had assured her there was nothing to it; she would merely be expected to take a friendly interest and send presents on birthdays and at Christmas.

  They had travelled home leisurely, on a protracted wedding journey by way of Venice. There Louis and Veronique had departed for their new home in the Americas, while she and Barnaby lingered in the region until autumn, when they, too, took boat. Since both of them were enthusiastic sailors, en route they had decided to have a yacht built to their specifications once they arrived in England. Many happy hours were spent planning every detail of this magnificent boat, to be named the Sea Witch.

  Milla had been so absorbed in her husband and the exquisite pleasures he was able to induce in her, that she did not even suggest pursuing a notorious swindler who was plying his trade in Venice at that time. In her mind she did toy with various schemes to lay him low, but in the end decided to spare him.

  Leaving Barnaby in the library Milla hastened to Abby’s room, where her friend was resting from the rigours of childbirth. As they exchanged kisses, Milla felt unexpected tears spring up in her eyes, and rapidly blinked, to chase such unwelcome sentimentality away. It was good to have Abby as a sister, something she had not even known she missed in her life.

  Abby noticed her vulnerable state immediately, of course, and drew the correct conclusion. “Milla… can it be that you are also with child?”

  Milla nodded. “It is early days yet. Does it render all of us so stupidly emotional?”

  “That is a frequent effect, yes. But fear not, it will pass. How wonderful! Our father-in-law will be happy to learn of your hopes. He was visibly disappointed that I did not deliver another son – the expected heir and spare. If only he knew, according to that doctor I consulted before my marriage even one child was unlikely, and two practically impossible.”