by Jenna Jaxon
Kat perked up at his explanation. “You think the drug will keep me from getting ill?”
His eyes warmed. “I promise you, my sweet, you will go to sleep in my arms here in this bed and awaken in my arms in our carriage on the way to London. You will have no recollection of the sea or anything other than me.”
She closed her eyes and nodded, still anxious despite her husband’s reassurances. Another graze of his lips across hers, and the bed lifted. Her eyes flew open just in time to see a flash of his backside as he hastily donned breeches. “Where are you going, Duncan?”
He turned and gave her a rakish grin. “I am going to send Margery to attend to your needs, then I intend hurry along both Larraby and Captain Stratton. I cannot wait to have you in my arms again, all alone with me in this bed.”
“Duncan!” Katarina’s cheeks heated at his implication. She reached for the rest of her tea. “Much good it will do you, my dear, if I am unconscious the whole way to land.”
Hand on the cabin door, he paused, and her heart beat frantically at his tender expression. “Whenever you are in my embrace, my love, it does me good.”
She watched his tall form disappear into the corridor and lay back with a sigh. Pray God, he was right and she would sleep peacefully in his arms throughout the coming voyage. A little piece of heaven, though one she would not wager on. But she if doubted his plan, she no longer doubted him or his love. Which was heaven enough for her.
Chapter 28
Duncan kept his word, or at least, almost. Katarina dutifully drank the ginger tea laced with laudanum and fell into a deep slumber. When she opened her drug-tired eyelids again, she blinked, confused, at an unfamiliar room lit by faint daylight that spilled around the edges of worn buff-colored drapes. But she felt the strong, possessive clasp of her husband’s arms secure around her waist and, grateful to find her head pillowed on his chest, relaxed.
“Are you awake at last, sleepyhead?”
She turned in his arms, stretching her limbs, feeling his firm body beside her. “Where are we, Duncan? Where is the carriage?” She nestled her head on his shoulder, her breasts pleasantly pressed against his chest.
He settled the blankets around her. “After we landed, my sweet, I thought perhaps it would be best for you to stay stationary a few days to recover your strength. So we have been ensconced at this somewhat tolerable inn since yesterday afternoon.” He chuckled. “Margery is down the hall, probably wringing her hands in worry, ready to do me bodily harm since I forbade her coming here to tend to you.”
He grinned, his even white teeth shining in the semi-gloom. “So you see, my dear, I have kept yet another promise. You have awoken in my arms, although, I grant, not in the carriage. I fear we will have plenty of time together in that conveyance once we begin our journey home.”
She wrapped her arm around him and sighed. “I could sleep like this for another two days.”
“But there are other things you could to be doing in this bed, my love.”
Awareness pulsed with the intimate nature of their pose. The image his words conjured made her whole body heat. And tingle in anticipation. Forcing her whirling senses to relax, she lay back and took measure of her husband’s mischievous smile.
“Oh, I concur with that, my dear,” she said in her sweetest–and most seductive–tone. “You must have read my mind.” She rose on an arm.
His eyebrows shot up. “Indeed. And perhaps you would enjoy some company while you engage in your activity, my sweet?”
Kat pretended to ponder the matter then nodded in agreement. “I would enjoy company for such an activity, Duncan, although,” she stared boldly at him, “I am as content to engage in it alone if necessary.”
“Indeed, my lady.” He seemed to bite back a laugh. “I have also done so on occasion, but find, with two it is eminently more pleasurable. Or more, although more than two is too much for a bed. Three or more necessitates the use of a sofa or a table, I would guess.”
“Or perhaps a blanket,” she ventured, deepening her voice. “If one is outside and so inclined to indulge, don’t you think, my love?” Her husband gulped, and she smiled. “But what is wrong, my dear?” she asked, pretending wide-eyed innocence. “Of course we are speaking of eating luncheon, are we not? I find I am quite starved, having had no food for almost three days.”
Duncan threw back his head and laughed. “I wondered if you would tumble to my conceit, my love. Yes, I too speak of luncheon, which I ordered Margery to bring at one o’clock. She said if you weren’t awake by then she had a guaranteed way to rouse you.”
Kat shot a rueful glance at the closed drapes. “She does indeed, Duncan. But that will hardly be necessary now.” She lay down and stroked the mat of golden hair that showed through his open shirt. His body felt warm and vital, as if he simply itched to leap into action, like a coiled spring. She heard a chuckle and looked up.
Captured by his brown-eyed gaze, she held her breath as his mouth came closer. His lips brushed hers. And again. Lingered the third time. He raised his head. “Are you quite sure all you spoke of was luncheon, Katarina?”
Desire flamed in his eyes, searing her with its intensity. Acutely aware that every inch of her body pressed against him, she sucked in a breath. The hard object prodding between her legs was not his knee. He traced a path down the side of her neck with his mouth, nudged aside the lacy fabric at the night rail’s opening and trailed kisses onto the swell of her breast. A more exquisite feeling than those soft lips against her skin, she could not remember. Like the kiss of a rose petal wrapped in dew. Fever and chills warred wherever his lips touched and she stretched against him, feeling his arousal press against her closed thighs.
Delicious heat rose in her body, as her husband stirred embers deep inside. He tugged on the gown’s drawstring, releasing her breast from its gauzy prison, then lipped her aching nipple, which sent new flares of passion straight to her core. As he flicked his tongue over the sensitive peak, she moaned and squirmed. Of their own accord, her legs parted in invitation.
“So you are hungry, little one?” Duncan’s rough tone sounded like a cannon in the still room. Sensitive to every sound and touch, she could only nod as she gazed into his eyes, which were luminous in the room’s half-light. Once she’d dreaded this moment; now she could scarcely wait for him to fill her, to satisfy the yearning to be possessed, and possessor. She felt his hand straying down her thigh, raking the gown’s fabric upward.
“I have waited so long for this moment, Katarina,” he crooned, and his hot breath in her ear set her trembling, as need for him intensified. He stole down again, and this time let his fingers wander through the wiry curls, parted them and her. Gently, he urged one finger inside her, and she gasped at the strange feeling of them so intimately joined. He withdrew and she whimpered, unwilling to lose that connection, only to feel stinging pain as he slid two fingers in to stretch her wider.
Moaning, she writhed with mounting tension. She felt moisture where he stroked and fondled her, stoked a fire that threatened to burn out of control.
“Duncan.” His name came out a throaty growl. “What are you going to do?” If he didn’t do something soon, she might combust where she lay.
“I’m going to savor my first course, sweet.” His voice matched hers, husky and low. “By the time we reach dessert, I don’t think either of us will have strength to move.” He trailed his tongue upward to her mouth, slid it into the welcoming warmth. She lay transfixed, doubly joined with him, wanting to remember this moment and the next ones with crystal clarity. She cupped his face and pulled him onto her, feeling every inch of him along her body.
Bombarded by these exciting, unfamiliar sensations, she didn’t think anything strange when he stiffened oddly over her, but when he disengaged his mouth from hers, she looked up, puzzled as he scowled toward the door.
“Damn!”
Seconds later the door flew open and Margery bustled in with a huge serving platter covered with various
dishes. Kat squeaked and Duncan scrambled to cover himself. Margery paid them no mind, put the platter down on a nearby table, then strode to the window and jerked the drapes aside. Afternoon sunlight flooded the room, which elicited a groan from Kat as she dove under the blanket.
“Serves you right, my lady,” the maid said, “lying abed so–”
Margery’s piercing scream sounded shrilly, even beneath the heavy covers.
She poked her head out and glared at her maid. “Serves you right, Margery, for not knocking.”
The maid stared, mouth and eyes open in horror. “But, my lord,” Margery said, wringing her hands, “you bade me bring lunch at one o’clock. You said Lady Dalbury needed to eat.” Apparently realizing the degree of their dishabille, Margery whirled around and presented them with her ample backside. “I beg pardon, my lord, but you did–”
“I am well aware of my orders, as I am of your diligence in caring for Lady Dalbury. I was not aware, however, that you were unfamiliar with the custom of knocking before entering a room.” Duncan’s mouth twitched and Kat stifled an urge to laugh. “If you give us a moment, I believe that we can be ready for luncheon in short order.”
“Very good, my lord.” Margery sped out the door even more quickly than she had entered.
Duncan looked down at Kat and sighed. “Shall we resume our tryst, my love, or shall we move on to the other main course?”
Though she yearned to rekindle the magnificent feelings of a few minutes ago, the moment had passed. The smell of hot food wafting from the platter distracted her; she looked up at her husband, opened her mouth to speak and was mortified to hear a loud growl issue from her stomach.
“I will take that as a yes to luncheon,” Duncan said, rolled onto his side and into a sitting position. “You do need to eat, love.” He placed a kiss on her forehead. “You’ll need your strength for later.” A flame of desire flared in his dark eyes, sending a stab of longing deep into the place between her thighs. How could she hunger for so many things at once?
Before she could pull Duncan down to her, he was up, donned his breeches and tucked in his shirt. Then he assisted her from the bed. They proceeded to eat leisurely, speaking of mundane things while exchanging heated looks that promised a sizzling conclusion to the meal. Katarina had just finished a dish of fresh berries with cream–which was one hunger sated at least–when a knock at the door drew Duncan from the table. He opened it and someone asked for Lord Dalbury in a gruff voice. While Duncan went out into the hallway, she stood, stretched. Peace stole into her as she made her way to the plain dresser with a small mirror fastened above.
Her night rail, the one with cascades of frilly lace, still adorned her. She’d specifically requested it when Margery had bathed her. A ploy to appear as ravishing as possible for her husband. As if he needed encouragement. She still looked somewhat gaunt, however, but if she continued to eat with the gusto she had shown at lunch, that would soon be a thing of the past.
Idly, she picked up a brush and ran it through her disheveled hair. What a sight they must have presented to Margery. Thoughts of what the maid interrupted made Katarina glow as the fire fought to rekindle. She turned expectantly as door opened and smiled at Duncan with what she hoped was a seductive air. The heat from before flickered in his look, but there was annoyance in the set of his mouth.
“I have to leave you for the afternoon, sweetheart.” He crossed to her and plunged his hands into her thick locks. Tipping her head back, he ran his fingers through the long strands, over and over, as though he could not get enough. His eyes, wide and dark, showed him as lost in desire for her as he had been the night they met. “God knows, I want nothing so much as to take you to that bed and keep you there for the next three days.”
Reveling in the closeness of his body, her own thrummed with need for him. She wasn’t sure she’d let him go after just three days. “Why can’t we, Duncan?”
“I hired Grimes to find us a carriage to rent or buy, but the town we’re in has nothing available. He believes Lizard, about ten miles away, would have something suitable but he’s never been there.” Duncan shook his head. “I can’t imagine living all one’s days within five miles of where you were born.”
“But why do you have to go now, my love?” She tried not to pout, but she couldn’t tolerate the thought of being alone all afternoon.
“Unfortunately, I was given these rooms on the condition we leave tomorrow. A huge wedding party hired the entire inn. One of the local gentry’s daughter is getting married, the social affair of the summer in these parts. We must be on our way by tomorrow afternoon, for there are no accommodations until Falmouth.”
“Then let me ride with you.” She plucked up the hem of her gown, ready to doff the garment despite Duncan’s amazed stare.
“Katarina.” The stern husband had returned. “You are still pale and barely able to sit at table. How would you sit a horse ten miles and back?”
Kat raised her chin and set her jaw. “Just because I have given you leave to use my name, Duncan, does not mean you rule me.”
“I would never dream such a thing, love.” He ran his thumb along her jutting jaw. “But I want you here, rested and waiting when I return. I should be back with the carriage by ten o’clock at the latest. You can wait up for me or I can awaken you when I arrive.” A naughty smile appeared on his lips. “I know several much more pleasant ways to rouse you than Margery.”
She shivered, her imagination running riot at his words. The torture of waiting so long would be compensated with the reward of him in the end. Her reluctant nod gained her a scorching kiss, one she felt all the way to her toes. She swayed, fully against him, grinding her hips wantonly against his just to prolong their contact, until finally he urged her away.
“If you do that again, madam, you will find yourself flat on your back, taken without any finesse at all,” Duncan growled, the gleam in his eyes no longer playful.
Kat squashed the impish impulse to call his bluff. He wasn’t bluffing. And much as she hungered for her husband’s body, she wanted the tenderness his earlier passion promised.
“Yes, Duncan,” she said, eyes demurely downcast.
“Wench!”
A smart slap on her backside made her jump and give him an indignant look as she rubbed her wounded posterior. Duncan chuckled, a smug sound deep in his chest. He dropped a brief kiss on her pouting lips. “I’ll make it feel better when I come home, sweet.” With that outrageous remark, he quit the room. Rubbing her tingling flesh, she stared after him. How would she be able to endure the long hours before her devilish husband returned and made good on his promise?
Chapter 29
Katarina sat, staring disconsolately out the carriage window at green fields dotted with placid sheep, fuming as she counted the hours until she and Duncan could at last be alone together. The comedy of errors that had ensued during the week since they’d landed in Mullion only heightened her frustration. Despite their now mutual attraction, desire, and downright lust for one another, their marriage remained unconsummated.
Duncan had not returned to her that first night: a thrown horseshoe, a hard bargain for a poor carriage without benefit of a coachman and a missed turn in the dark meant he did not arrive back at the inn until almost noon the following day. Hard traveling commenced, but they’d reached Falmouth in good time, engaged a well-appointed room and had eagerly prepared for a romantic rendezvous. Then she’d been forced to perform the unpleasant and embarrassing task of telling her husband that her courses had come upon her. Disappointment, almost sharper than she could bear, added a touch of irony to the already ludicrous situation. The small comfort left her, of sleeping in each other’s arms, ultimately proved more torture than boon.
Four excruciatingly long days later, her monthly time over, she again anticipated their night together, only to find the one available inn possessed but a single unoccupied room. Margery’s subsequent presence in the chamber quashed any amorous plans for the night.
The trap rattled open, pulling Kat from her morose memories.
“About two miles to go, my lady,” Duncan called from his perch on the box before the lid slammed shut again. Unwilling to venture further from his beloved Mullion, Grimes had abandoned them in Falmouth, which had forced Duncan to drive during most of the trip.
A mixed blessing. She sighed. After six days of enforced celibacy, a mere glance into Duncan’s eyes, burning with desire for her, set her trembling like an aspen in a high wind; the briefest touch of his finger sent her heart pounding as though determined to leap from her chest. Had he been in the carriage with her today, she would have pounced on him like a hungry lioness on an antelope. And that would have been a shame, for she wanted the tenderness her husband promised, as well as the heated passion that seethed between them whenever they were together.
Only two miles more, thank God.
The carriage slowed. They had reached their destination, Duncan’s estate on the Cornish coast near the Seaton River. Lush, well-tended lawns on either side of the lane gave way to a circular driveway before a pleasantly proportioned two-story manor house. Rows of gleaming windows shone bright in the afternoon light, giving an airiness to the imposing silver-gray stone structure and captivating Katarina with the charm of the stately, yet inviting, house. They stopped beside a columned portico. Duncan handed her out as soon as a groom came to hold the horses.
“Welcome to Seaton House, my dear.” He tucked her hand firmly into the crook of his elbow. Her temperature rose several degrees. “An oasis in the wilderness. This manor came to the family from my mother on her marriage and was always a favorite haunt in summer.”