by Jane Charles
“Why a lending library or bookstore? Is this something you’ve always wanted to do?”
Timothy dropped the ribbons for a moment and stretched out his fingers, made a fist and stretched them out again. They must be getting cramped from having to work with such small ties. “My father expected me to become a fellow at Oxford, if I didn’t join the church.”
“Not the military? I thought fourth sons went into the military, or is that the third.”
He laughed and sat back, letting the ribbons go for the time being. “Neither I nor my older brothers were suited for the military, which pleased my mother greatly. I am more a lover than a fighter.”
His face turned crimson the moment the words were said. She hoped he was a lover or this trip would be a complete waste, with the exception of finding a new job.
“What I meant was . . . well,am more a not a violent person and believe much more good can be accomplished with open conversation than with guns. I didn’t mean lover in the true sense of the word. . . not that I have anything against . . . I just mean. . .” He stopped talking and turned his attention to the ties once again. Katrina bit her lip to keep from laughing.
Well, at least she established he wasn’t against being a lover, or at least that is what she garnered from their short bit of conversation.
“If you like books so well, why didn’t you become a professor?”
“Because I didn’t want to be limited to one area of study.”
“Such as literature, history, sciences?”
“Yes. I enjoy them all equally, as well as languages, music and art.”
“Maybe you should be a governess instead of me.” Katrina laughed. “I need to teach all of those subjects and more.”
He let the ribbons go again and looked up at her. “I tried being a tutor once and hated it.”
“Why?” She loved teaching young girls. Their minds were always open to possibilities. What if he didn’t like children? Not that it mattered since they were not committed to each other for life.
“I was in charge of teaching two sons of a duke to prepare them for Eton. They were both the most obnoxious and ill-behaved young men I have ever encountered.”
“Oh dear. Maybe it is easier to teach girls.”
“I don’t think so. My sisters did not take to their studies well at all.” He laughed. “The boys I tutored were beasts. They were spoiled and thought they could treat anyone the way they wished because their father was a duke. One was the heir and the other.”
“The spare,” she finished for him.
“I remember thinking that I hoped some young man bloodied their noses once they were away at school.”
“Oh, dear.” “I know it is wrong of me, but had I acted half as bad with my tutor my mother or father, or both, would have seen to it that I wasn’t able to sit down for a week.”
Katrina swallowed. “They would have beaten you?” The question was asked softly. Her father never once raised his voice to her, let alone his hand. No wonder he didn’t think problems should be solved with violence, unless one was a spoiled son of a duke apparently.
Timothy laughed. A full, rich laugh and Katrina realized she had not heard him do this before. She liked the sound of it. In all of their other encounters he had been completely businesslike and serious. His sense of humor made him all the more attractive.
“No, they would not have. I exaggerated.” He ran his fingers through his hair and stretched his shoulders. “At least I don’t think they would have. I only know that they were very specific on how they expected us to behave and we did as we were told. It never occurred to me to do any differently.”
Katrina turned in her seat to look at him better. Drat. Her wrist moved, pulling against his and Timothy was reminded of how they were joined. He went back to working at the knots.
Chapter 4
She must be uncomfortable. Katrina had fallen asleep against his shoulder an hour ago. Though she faced forward in the seat, her neck was at an odd angle and Timothy knew she would be stiff and in pain once she woke if she remained like this much longer. Besides, he needed to move. He had sat still for too long and needed to stretch. So far he had only been able to untie half of the knots and his fingers cramped from the intricate work. Had those ladies been taught the art of tying a knot by sailors? He had never encountered anything like it in his life and had given up. When they stopped he would enquire about finding a knife and just cut the remaining ones loose.
Timothy arched his back and stretched his legs out in front of him. There wasn’t much room and he ended up resting his booted feet on the bench opposite of where they sat.
A nap did seem like a good idea. He stifled a yawn behind his free hand. This was not comfortable for either of them. Slowly and gently he lifted his arm, careful not to jostle her too much until her head rested on his chest. His tied hand rested on his chest and hers beneath it. He turned slightly so that his back was against the side. Yes, this was much better. As he was partially reclined, so was Katrina and she continued to slumber on his chest. Though this was improper, or would be in most cases, they were handfasted so they both might as well be comfortable for the duration of the trip.
He brought his free arm around and held her close so that she wasn’t tossed to the floor if they hit a bump. He hadn’t ever had a woman sleep on him before and found it to be quite pleasant. In fact, he hadn’t ever slept with a woman. There were plenty of intimate encounters but he always dressed and returned to his own set of rooms or sent the woman away.
She burrowed further against his side. Katrina moved her hand so that it rested on his abdomen. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea. She may be relaxed at rest but a part of him was becoming more alert. He needed to just ignore that her small palm and delicate fingers rested just above the waist of his pants.
No, the more he thought about it the harder he became. If she were to wake now and given the angle of her head, she would see his arousal straining against the packet of his pants before anything else. Would she even notice? If she did, would she know what it meant? It was better not to have that discussion. He would leave it to some matron once Katrina was facing her wedding night, not her handfasted night.
Was there such a thing? He supposed so. A trial marriage meant husband and wife and he couldn’t believe any man would enter into such a union without the full benefits of marriage. With the exception of him, of course. This wasn’t a trial marriage, only a convenience.
Katrina sighed, adjusting her position in her sleep. Her hand slid further down his person. Timothy grabbed it before it could go any further. He brought it back up to the safety of his chest and kept his tied hand on top of hers to keep it from traveling to places it really shouldn’t. Timothy closed his eyes and tried to think of other things. Would there be a building for lease or purchase in Middleton where he could open the lending library or would he have to build one. He hated to be delayed because of building but he would at least be able to design it himself. But, what would he do in the meantime? It wasn’t as if he needed the income, but he wanted to open his shop at the earliest convenience so he had something to keep him busy.
Of course he hadn’t visited the estate since h was a child. At the age of five the place was huge. Would it be as large being seen through adult eyes? His uncle had died three years ago and the place had been vacant since. There was a small staff that remained, which he had paid monthly, but could the place have gone into disrepair in his absence? While he hoped that wasn’t the case, at least it would be something additional to keep his mind and body occupied if he had to bring the place back.
He shifted in his seat. He was so tired of being restless. London bored him and not one lady had ever remotely interested him long enough for a stroll in the park let alone a lifetime commitment and he couldn’t stand the thought of another Season. Which was the very reason he traveled north a month before the official season was to begin. He wanted to be far away and he hoped the store and estate would cu
re what ailed him – boredom.
* * *
Katrina feigned sleep. She had actually fallen asleep on his shoulder but woke immediately when her head rested on his chest. Things were progressing better than she planned and when his pants developed a bulge she grew even more hopeful as did her understanding. One of the books talked about the necessity of touch to encourage growth in a man. She hadn’t understood, but the lump confirmed that his cock was not always rigid which explained why women couldn’t see such things while the men were clothed.
She tried to snake her hand down further and if she touched him in her sleep it wasn’t so forward, was it? But he stopped her, drat him. Didn’t he want to be touched? She just didn’t understand her husband.
There was a low rumble in his chest. Timothy was asleep. Katrina smiled and tried to pull her hand from beneath his but he clutched it too tightly. At least they were still tied together, for the moment. Six ribbons littered the seat across from them and she planned on keeping each and every one as a reminder of this trip. It would very likely be the only marriage she ever entered into. Now, if only Timothy would cooperate so that she could experience everything then she would be happy.
As he slept she probably should as well. There wasn’t anything else to do in the quiet carriage and she very well couldn’t look out the window. If she sat up she would wake him and then he may go back to trying to untie those blasted ribbons again. She wanted them in place for as long as possible.
* * *
Timothy came awake at the sudden jolt of the carriage stopping. Katrina sat up as did he. They were in Edinburgh already, at the inn he had arranged for a room. He would need to make sure there was a second room available because he would not be sharing one with his bride.
Mr. McTavish, the proprietor and his wife came out the door to meet them. They were a pleasant, older couple, who had doted on him the three nights he stayed here before traveling to Blackrig.
The coachman opened the door and Timothy took a step outside. His arm was jerked back. Damn, he had forgotten about those blasted ribbons. He needed to retreat inside the carriage before Mr. and Mrs. McTavish saw them. He was too late because Katrina appeared in the door, her ribboned wrist visible for everyone to see.
Mrs. McTavish’s face brightened. “Did you get yourself handfasted, Lord Timothy?”
“I didn’t think anyone did that any longer,” Mr. McTavish added.
Timothy looked at Mr. McTavish. “Neither did I.” Then turned to Mrs. McTavish. “Yes, I did, but it isn’t what you think.”
The woman threw up her hands, delight lit her face. “That is so wonderful.” She turned on her heel and began back toward the door to the inn. “I’ll make sure the two of you have our special room for the night, and . . .”
“Mrs. McTavish, I need to explain.” But she wasn’t listening to him and was already inside.
Timothy turned to the older man. “We only got handfasted so that we could travel together. Miss Clark needs to be in Willonton for an interview and I agreed to take and drop her there before continuing onto Middleton. It is to save her reputation, only.”
The older man braced his feet apart and crossed his arms over his large, barreled chest. “Were you not handfasted today?”
“Yes, we were,” Katrina answeret>
“Who performed the ceremony?”
“Reverend Lawson.” Katrina took a step out of the carriage and joined Timothy on the cobbled drive.
“Who tied the ribbons?” He nodded toward their joined wrists.
“The reverend tied one, but some of the ladies in town tied the rest.”
“So, there were witnesses?” He arched a brow with his question and looked directly at him.
Timothy had the urge to pull at the collar and the tight cravat at his neck before he suffocated. “Yes, Mr. McTavish.”
A broad smile broke out on his face. “Then you are truly handfasted and my wife will want to celebrate.”
“But. . .”
Mr. McTavish shook his head, silencing any other argument Timothy would have made.
“I say enjoy it, son. You now have a wife.”
The man winked at Timothy before he turned to walk toward the back of the carriage to help the coachman retrieve their luggage for the night.
“I suppose asking for separate rooms is out of the question?” Timothy called back to him.
The man only laughed.
This was going to be a very long night.
Chaper 5
Katrina stood next to Timothy as Mrs. McTavish worked at the ribbons. “You should just cut them,” her husband suggested.
The woman’s head jerked up. “I will do no such thing.”
Katrina sighed and squirmed. As much as she wished to have Timothy stuck to her side, there were more pressing needs and she was not about to let him join her in the necessary. The woman had provided a lovely dinner and now Katrina was ready to burst, in more ways than one.
“There.” The last ribbon came loose and fell away from her arm.
“Thank you, Mrs. McTavish.” Katrina bolted from the common room as quickly as possible. She could hear Timothy laughing behind her. Why wasn’t he in the same predicament?
She returned a few minutes later, relieved and able to concentrate on the night ahead but her husband wasn’t around.
“Has my husband gone up to our room?”
The woman frowned. “No, he went out. Said he had a few friends to see and that he would return later.”
Drat that man.
“He wanted me to make sure you were made comfortable.” The woman turned toward the stairs and Katrina followed her up to the room on the top floor. The chamber was large, as was the bed in the center of the room. She looked out the window but it was already dark.
“I have water heating in the kitchen.”
Katrina turned back to Mrs. McTavish.
“I thought you might enjoy a bath after your travels.”
She would love to wash the dust way and soak in a hot tub. “Thank you. I would like that very much.”
“Don’t worry, lamb. He will be back soon. This is his weddng night and I don’t know of any man who wishes to spend that away from his bride.”
Katrina offered a weak smile. Timothy wasn’t like most grooms. She half expected him not to return at all just to avoid being along with her, especially in that bed. She wouldn’t be surprised if he slept in the carriage tonight. Or, somewhere else.
Mrs. McTavish exited the room and Katrina began to pace. What if Timothy did spend the night somewhere else? Did he go see another lady? Was there someone else he would rather be in bed with?
She spun on her heel. No, he would have mentioned that, wouldn’t he. She knew he wasn’t betrothed or married, well, except to her, but what if he had a ladylove. The type of women men enjoyed intimacies with but never married. What would she do if he was with her?
A knock at the door distracted Katrina from her thought process. When she opened it, two men carried in a large tub and maids followed with hot water. This was what she needed. Once she relaxed she would be able to think clearer.
* * *
Timothy put off returning to the room he was to share with Katrina for as long as possible but was running out of excuses to remain with his friend. The moment Katrina left his side Timothy left the inn and made his way to the home of a man he had gone to school with. After a few games of billiards, glasses of brandy and discussions on a wide range of topics that held little interest to him, Timothy decided it was time to take his leave. He could only hope Katrina was sound asleep and he could slip into bed, pretend like she wasn’t there and get some much needed rest.
A lamp burned low on the table beside the bed. Katrina was asleep on top of the covers with an open book beside her. He dearly wished she would have gotten into bed so he did not have to witness the thin nightrail that hid very little. Even in the darkness he could see the shading of her nipples beneath the pale linen, as well as the outline
of her curls. The gown was also pushed up to the middle of her thighs. Any higher and her womanhood would be exposed to him. Timothy grew hard at the vision of her and knowing how little effort it would take to push the gown up a few more inches.
He turned abruptly. Katrina was an innocent young woman and had no idea, even if she were awake, what the sight of her did to him. He splashed cold water on his face and wished he could submerge his entire body into an icy lake. Sleep would be impossible tonight but he needed to at least try. He pulled his cravat loose and tossed it onto a table before he sat and pulled his boots off. He removed everything but his pants. Those would stay on until Katrina was far away from him. It was a good thing they were comfortable because they would not be leaving his body until Middleton.
Timothy returned to the bed and contemplated whether he should tuck her under the blankets or let her remain on top and he would sleep under the covers. It was probably best if they both weren’t under the covers. He bent to pick up the book and glanced at the pages out of curiosity. He gasped at the sketch on the page. This was one of her father’s books. He turned to bring it closer to the lamp and his toe struck one of her bags. It was open and inside were more books. He stooped to look through them. They were all the books that had once been hidden in her father’s store.
Katrina had known about them all along, but why was she reading them now? He glanced up to her innocent face, hair splayed out on the pillow, thick lashes brushed her cheek and her plump lips parted for breath. Did his wife want a real wedding night?
His cock jumped at the idea.
No. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t and for all of the reasons he had listed to himself over and over. He just wished he could remember what they all were now.
The page the book had been left open on was a picture of a man and woman. He feasted on her breast while his fingers brought her pleasure.