“Such a delightful child,” Laura said.
Hallie said with great seriousness, “She’ll try, but she won’t get him, Genny. Don’t worry. Papa’s never silly when it comes to serious things, and you’re serious.”
Genny stopped in the middle of the stairs and stared down at the little girl with the very serene voice.
“It’s true.” Hallie patted her hand. Her hand. “She’s very pretty, even beautiful, but don’t you see, Papa doesn’t like ladies like her. Oh, he’ll flatter them, perhaps, if he’s in a good humor, maybe even see them in their bedchambers, something all adults seem to do. But he likes ladies who are prettier on the inside. Like you.”
“You told me you thought I was pretty.”
Hallie nodded, all seriousness. “Yes, that’s true, but Mrs. Salmon is quite excapton…excepio—”
“Exceptional?”
“Yes, that’s right. She wants to be Lady Sherard and she thinks she’s beautiful enough to deserve it. Papa isn’t fooled ever, you know.”
“It doesn’t matter to me, Hallie.”
Hallie gave her a very tolerant, very long-suffering look, one designed to make Genny feel quite inadequate, which she did. She held steadfast, however.
Genny came to a sudden stop at the top of the stairs. “Hallie, did you—no, you couldn’t, it’s impossible.”
“What, Genny?”
“You said your papa went to ladies’ bedchambers.”
“Of course he does occasionally. Don’t be silly, Genny. Papa’s a man, after all. And he went to your bedchamber, too. Adults,” she added, shrugging, “just do that.”
Genny gulped in the face of this timeless wisdom. “Hallie, would you please just be a little girl for the next hour?”
Hallie beamed at her. “Will you read to me? Papa thinks I can already read all the stories, but I can’t.”
“I would love to.”
“Odd as it may sound, you look lovely in black.”
“Thank you. Would you care for more mutton cutlets with soubise sauce?”
“I believe not, though they are quite tasty. It is wonderful to have such warm friends as Mrs. Salmon, is it not?”
“Indeed. More bacon-cheek?”
“I don’t feel the need, thank you. She invited me to her house tomorrow night.”
“Go, by all means. Perhaps some sprouts?”
“They make me bilious, just the thought of them. Mrs. Salmon is concerned—as a good friend should be—that I am living here with you, a poor, defenseless, long-in-the-tooth maiden lady.”
“More hare soup?”
“It’s cold now. I assured her that you were far from defenseless, that you wouldn’t be poor for over another three weeks, and that I liked your long teeth. Oh, yes, I assured her that you were far from being a maiden.”
“Would you like the cold hare soup in your face?”
“Genny, Genny, you normally dish out insults with remarkable verve. What’s the matter? You feeling under the weather? The weather is quite nasty, that’s true. Or is it that since you’ve discovered lovemaking, you want more? Well, I suppose I could be convinced to visit you again tonight. Would you wish to try another position, perhaps? Being on your side is nice; you’d like it. Your knees would be bent, your beautiful right leg drawn up toward your chest, and then I would curve around you and—”
A spoonful of peas struck Alec full face.
He laughed. He was actually laughing at her.
Then she was gasping, as he tossed a return spoonful of peas into her face. One particularly fat pea landed on her bosom and stayed there.
“Now that is impressive,” Alec said, eyeing her breasts. “No, there it goes. Mrs. Salmon has the most excellent pair of breasts it’s ever been my privilege to fondle. But wait, didn’t you observe her upper endowments also?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Before you fell, landing on your wonderful bottom and spraining your equally wonderful ankle?”
“Yes.”
“Ah, then, of course, your night of pleasure began. Did you like it when I tied you to my bunk aboard ship, Genny? I assure you that I enjoyed your pleasure immensely. Your moans and groans and little breathy gasps pleased me. You’re quite lovely, you know; your legs are long and firm and shaped quite acceptably—”
“Keep still.”
He opened his mouth again and Genny shouted, “Moses. Moses.”
Moses slipped into the dining room with no sound at all. “Yes, ma’am?”
She gave him her best smile. “We’re ready for coffee now, I believe.”
“I’m not through with my mutton cutlets,” Alec said.
“You’ll gain flesh. Coffee, please, Moses.”
“Suh?”
Genny wanted to yell. Looking to Alec for orders.
“Miss Genny’s quite right. It wouldn’t do for me to become fat.” At least not until I’ve nailed you down, Miss Eugenia, his look at her clearly said. “Coffee it is. With brandy, please.”
“Yes, suh.”
Moses left the dining room with as little noise as he’d entered it.
Genny leaned forward. “Would you please stop being outrageous, Alec?”
He was serious in an instant. “You haven’t been depressed or silent or withdrawn for the past half hour. And you’ve eaten your dinner.”
Genny paused, staring down at her nearly empty plate. He was right. She’d wanted to kill him so much she’d forgotten about her father, the endless pain of the present, her unadmitted jealousy of Laura Salmon, and eaten her dinner. She’d really been quite hungry. She looked up at him. There was no amusement or devilry in his eyes.
“No, Genny. Don’t look back right now. You really must look forward. There’s no choice for you.”
“I don’t want to. It’s hopeless.”
“I don’t believe I appreciate being considered hopeless. No, don’t argue, just listen for a minute. I’m here to rescue you, Genny. I’ve already made love to you and you appreciated my efforts in that direction.” Alec paused for a moment, then frowned. “As a matter of fact, my body is busily informing me that it’s time to become close to you again. I’d like to toss up your skirts right here on the dining table, but—ah, here’s Moses with the coffee. A man of questionable timing.”
Genny said not a word. She watched Moses glance toward Alec and saw Alec give complete directions with but a nod. It was hopeless even here in her own home. At least her father had left her the house.
“You’ve the look of a woman going backward again. Would you care for some brandy? No? Well, I insist. You need it. It’ll warm up your vitals.”
It did. Genny gulped the first drink, felt the brandy steam all the way to her stomach, and coughed. Alec merely sipped his coffee, looking at the portrait of James Paxton’s father on the wall above the sideboard. The fellow was bewigged, and his full-cut, whale-boned coat was a heavy purple brocade with heavily braided sleeves. Impressive, that was what he was, but his expression was as cold as the North Sea.
Genny got hold of herself and the brandy. She felt warm and she felt soft. Things were beginning to look less hopeless.
“Now, as I was saying,” Alec continued as he poured a bit more coffee and a lot more brandy into her Wedgwood cup, “I want you to look at me as your knight-errant. A brave fellow am I, and you, my dear Miss Eugenia, can be considered in the light of the Holy Grail. Do you like that notion?”
“You’re being quite absurd,” Genny said, but she wasn’t at all serious. The coffee was delicious and so warming, making her tingle to her knees.
“Here’s what we’re going to do, dear lady. You will marry me on Friday.”
That brought Genny’s head up. She stared at him. “You’re mad, quite mad. You don’t love me. You only want the shipyard and the Pegasus. Why?”
“Because I want to make love to you for the next forty years, every night, every morning, perhaps after breakfast and before tea, and—”
“That’s absurd.”
“I thought you’d forgotten about that. I had. Why? There’s no reason for a wager now. You’ve got everything.”
“I’m not quite the fool you seem to think I am, Genny. You don’t want to have anything to do with me—at least you don’t see me as likely husband material.”
“I don’t see any man as husband material. You’re all pompous asses and—”
“You’ve covered it, I think. Knowing the way you feel, I am going to offer you a business proposal. You beat me sailing to and from Nassau, and I’ll leave you to your own devices. I will deed ownership of the shipyard over to you. You can run the shipyard, bankrupt it as surely as we’re sitting here right now, anything you wish. It won’t matter to me, not a bit. I’ll buy the Pegasus so you’ll be able to stay afloat. But you won’t have to be saddled with me or my daughter after we return.”
“What if by some horrid mistake I don’t beat you?”
“Ah, then I shall have my way, Genny, in all things.”
“Such as?”
“You will be my wife. You will manage my household. You won’t ever again dress like a man. You will bear my children, if God blesses us. You will stay out of my business affairs. You will give up any and all interference in the shipyard.”
“You would wish me to die.”
That stopped him cold and made his belly cramp with something that resembled guilt, but he rallied. “On the contrary. Regardless of whatever wild fancies you have now, you’re still a woman. God knows, you convinced me of that last night. I would like to believe that such a conclusion would lead to your happiness.”
She gave him a lost look that brought a temporary return of guilt, then rose to stand beside her chair.
“Do you have any questions? Is there anything you would wish to change or modify?”
She shook her head, saying as she did, “We’ll be married before the race, but when I win, you said you’d leave. We would still be married. I don’t care about myself, but don’t you think you would wish to marry again?”
“No.”
The brandy was still warm on her stomach, but there were tears behind her eyes, and her head ached to release them. The tears weren’t just for her father, no, they were for—She shook her head.
“Good night, Baron.”
“What is your answer, Genny?”
She didn’t look at him, merely kept her head down. “I will tell you in the morning. Is that all right?”
“Yes, but tomorrow it must be.”
Genny walked slowly from the dining room, pulling the door closed behind her. Life had turned excessively strange. A month ago everything was as it should be. But now—what a bloody mess.
Genny awoke slowly, aware to the tips of her toes that she was alive, fully and exquisitely so, her body tingling, a deep ache between her thighs. His large hands were warm and covered so much of her at each long sweep. Her nightgown was around her waist, the buttons unfastened all the way down. His lips were lightly caressing her nipple.
“Alec, what are you…”
“Hush, Genny. I’m just here to convince you. Do you like that?” His warm mouth closed again over her nipple and she obligingly arched her back and moaned deep in her throat. She felt his hand slip beneath her nightgown and rest unmoving on her belly, his fingers splayed outward.
“Alec—”
“Yes, Genny? You want me to touch you? Here?” His fingers found her. She could feel herself as his fingers caressed her. But how was that possible? She should have been embarrassed and she was, for perhaps a second or two. Then her hips were lifting against his fingers.
“That’s nice, Genny. Do you know how you feel to me? The man who will be your husband? No, don’t argue, just feel. You’ll have this every day of your life, Genny. I promise you.” She moaned, and he kissed her, touching his tongue to hers, feeling her start with surprise, gentling now, slowing himself and her down. He eased his finger inside her. She was tight around his finger, and he wanted to come into her in that instant so badly he didn’t think he could control himself. His sex was hard against her thigh. But he wanted her to climax before he came inside her.
“Genny, open your legs wider.”
She didn’t understand him, she was so far drawn into the sensations he was creating inside her body.
“Open your legs,” he said again, and this time he helped her, pressing her thighs wide so he could come between them. He lay atop her, with his full weight, and kissed her mouth again and again.
“Would you like to discuss philosophy?” he said. “Or perhaps the exploits of Napoleon?”
He was teasing her, but she couldn’t think of a single word to retort. “Alec,” she managed, although that was all.
“Very nice, love,” he said, and began kissing her again. And he knew that finally she was experiencing the inevitability of it, accepting it, perhaps even wanting it. She was trusting him that he would bring her pleasure and that it was what she needed from him, what was good for her. He didn’t disappoint her. He eased down her body, kissing her as he went, caressing her with his hands, holding her waist, lifting her hips. When his mouth closed over her, she cried out and then cried out once more.
Alec felt something deep and giving inside him. It was an elusive feeling, and he sought it out naturally. It was from Genny and it was into himself.
When her back arched tight as a bow, her legs stiffened, he pushed and pushed her until she was pounding his shoulders with her fists. But he didn’t let her pleasure fade. He came into her in a single, powerful thrust, lifting her hips high, forcing her thighs wider still. “Match my rhythm,” he said, his voice deep and dark as the night.
She did, and little aftershocks of pleasure shot throuh her. Then he quickened his pace. She was with him. Then suddenly his fingers were between their bodies, and she cried out, nearly bucking him off her in her frenzy, clutching his shoulders, burying her face against his chest. He met her, and plunged so deep that they were one, and he knew it and accepted it as he spilled his seed, filling her with himself.
It was a moment in time that he never wanted to end.
He became sensible sometime later. He didn’t know if five minutes had passed or an hour. He just became aware that Genny was crying softly. He said her name and lifted himself onto his elbow.
Fifteen
“Shush, don’t cry. What’s wrong, love?”
Genny tried to stop the sobs. She hiccuped against his shoulder. He leaned down and nuzzled her throat with his lips.
“I’m so afraid, Alec,” she whispered against his cheek.
Alec eased off her and rolled onto his side. “Look at me, Genny.”
She turned her head on the pillow to face him. He’d lighted a single candle on the bedside table. He seemed mysterious in the shadows, his face all planes and angles, and his brilliant eyes so dark a blue as to be nearly black. She looked down the column of his throat to his shoulders and the sprinkling of golden hair there. He gently stroked his fingers over her jaw. “Tell me why you’re afraid.”
It was difficult, so very difficult. She felt a fool. “A month ago I was myself, just myself, and there were worries, certainly, yet everything was as I knew it all my life. Papa was ill, but I was used to that. Then you came.
“I think when I first saw you I thought it would be all over for me. I didn’t want it to be, though. You were just so very overwhelming.”
“I didn’t know you existed a month ago either, Genny. Oh, like you knew of a Baron Sherard, I knew of a Mr. Eugene Paxton, but not you, Genny. I don’t think I realized it was over for me until I held your head while you vomited that memorable night after your headlong flight from the brothel. Are you sorry I came into your life?”
“Yes—no. Oh, God, Alec, I don’t know.”
“Are you glad I hel
d your head?”
She started to say something, swallowed it, and punched his arm with her fist.
Alec stroked his fingertips over her jaw. So smooth, he thought, and stubborn. “Behold a serious man. Now listen to me. I’m not quite certain either what it is I should be feeling right now—joy, terror, or just plain confusion. But don’t be afraid of me, Genny. I’ll never hurt you, never.”
You do but you don’t realize it. Oh, God, what am I to do? A sob broke from her throat and she turned her face away from him.
“No, no, don’t cry. You’ll make yourself sick. Hush.”
He was treating her as if she were Hallie, soothing her as an adult would a child to rid the child of the monsters in the night, stroking her hair, rubbing her back. It galled her and at the same time, oddly, provided some comfort.
“I’m not a child,” she said.
He smiled. “That, my dear Genny, I can vouch for personally.” He lay his palm on her belly again and began to massage her. “You are so soft,” he said and looked down at his long fingers caressing her. He’d always thought a woman’s body was fascinating, providing him with endless and delightful explorations. Lord, but Genny’s body—she was simply more. He couldn’t explain it, but it was true. He was beginning to accept that he would never get his fill of her. He found himself simply wanting to touch her, just to know she was there beside him. And now she would be his.
He felt her quickening and smiled lazily, then realized that it wasn’t sex he wanted at this moment. He wanted her to talk to him. He forced his hand to still itself.
“We can make a go of it, Genny. All you need to do is trust me in matters other than sexual ones.”
“You have no idea if I trust you in sexual things.”
He gave her the most wicked smile imaginable. “Don’t you realize that you give yourself completely to me? I tell you to open your thighs wider and you obey me immediately because you know I’ll give you pleasure. I’ve felt you raising your hips to draw me deeper into you. I’ve heard your cries, watched your face when you climaxed. And you climax beautifully, Genny, freely, with what I’ve decided to call American abandon. Now, I consider that trusting me in sexual matters. Will you trust me in other matters as well?”
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