by Peggy Waide
He relaxed, exhaled a cleansing breath. Everything was going to be all right. "Perhaps I sensed the fire beneath the smoke. I admit I did not succumb to unrestrained lust that first night," he conceded when she stared in disbelief.
"No small wonder, being the scarecrow that I was."
Lifting her chin to gaze openly at her, he said, "You amaze me. Most women would prefer to flay my backside. I said some nasty things." He fingered the red-gold curls tumbling about her shoulders. "You must understand. I enjoyed my bachelorhood and was unprepared for marriage that day." Lecherously, he wriggled his eyebrows. "However, the first night at Blackburn Hall..."
"Yes, I remember." She sighed, contented to lie beside the man she loved. No tender words, no promises, had been spoken. She expected none. She would gladly take each moment as it came. What was meant to be, would be.
"Who is Phillip?"
Gasping, she had to fight for a breath of air. "Who?"
"Phillip. You called his name while you were asleep."
The question, asked so nonchalantly, stunned Jocelyn. The implications were staggering. Like a ray of sunshine before a storm, thoughts of love and possible future harmony vanished. Her defenses armed, ready for battle, she jumped from the bed. "Is this your idea of mastery? Lull me into complacence with soft words and tender embraces, then when I least expect it, attack?"
Reyn abruptly sat up in bed and grabbed her wrist. "What is the matter now?"
He sounded like a wounded animal, but now that she had her wits back, she would not fall prey to his verbal games. "Let go of my arm. I wish to return to my chamber."
He tumbled her back to the bed and trapped her beneath his body. "Jocelyn. Trust me for Heaven's sake. I only want to help."
His body instinctively reacted to their close proximity and, recognizing the subtle changes, Jocelyn began to fight. "Trust? You ask for my trust?" She laughed, a hollow, haunted sound. "I just gave you my body, something not done lightly, and all the time you thought of ways to question me. You think such underhanded conduct deserves my trust?"
"I assure you I was not hatching questions when I buried myself so deep within you that our hearts merged into one. Excuse me for being a bit curious if, after making love to my wife for the first time, she calls out another man's name in her sleep."
His words did nothing to appease her anger. She brought her knee up toward his groin. He dodged in the nick of time and launched his own assault. "You are now my wife, in every sense of the word. I think it only fair I be told the truth. Jocelyn, I want to help you."
"And perhaps I want to keep us alive."
Sitting back on his haunches, he continued to press her to the bed with his body. Both his arms folded across his chest. "What the bloody hell does that mean?"
Let him rot for all his demands. She would give the man no satisfaction by answering. She turned her head to the wall.
He sighed. "Arguing with you could turn a sane man into a loon in short order. If you recall, your last stubborn, prideful tantrum brought devastating results." He hovered close to her face again, his breath fanning her ear. "Listen and listen well. If you are in danger, I will protect you. If I am in danger, I can damn well protect myself."
Straining for freedom, she pressed her hips intimately against his aroused flesh. For a moment, she closed her eyes.
"No comments?" he prodded.
Her lips thinned into a tight line of defiance.
"I see. I shall have to find another way to persuade you to my way of thinking. I believe you need a lesson in wifely obedience." One hand held her to the blankets as the other circled her breast, drawing the nipple to a taut peak. The other obeyed as well. "Look, Jocelyn. Your body knows what it wants, what it needs, what I can give."
His hand drifted between her legs to find her body moist and welcoming. Massaging the soft flesh, he dipped into her warmth, only to withdraw and bring his fingers to his lips. "You're already wet. Your body trusts me even if your feeble woman's mind does not. Shall I take you into my mouth this time? Taste your very essence? Or shall I thrust so deeply that you forget where you end and I begin?" As he spoke he did just that, plunging hard and true to ravage her body with slow, thorough strokes until her soft pleas repeated themselves, over and over again. He brought her to the brink of satisfaction, then pulled free to place his mouth over her and, using his tongue, brought her to the towering pinnacle and forced her over the edge. With wild abandon, she bucked beneath his lips while her body exhausted itself. Hoisting himself above her, determined to pleasure her again, he entered her in search of her soul. This time his cries of ecstasy matched hers.
"By the toes of Moses, you're whistling like a young hobbledehoy."
Cheerfully, Reyn greeted his friend as he entered the massive hall. "Good morning to you, too, Walter."
"I haven't heard you whistle since you were a young toad experiencing your first suckle of a young lady's breast," Walter admitted, his brow knitted in confused wonder. "Did you see that, Innes?"
Sitting beside the billiard table, waiting for Walter to take his shot, Tam witnessed Reyn's jaunty approach. With a grin as wide as a door, he said, "For weeks, his gloominess has proved as prickly as a hedgehog. In fact, just yesterday, he nearly killed his horse, drove the fear of God into several miners and yelled a serving wench into a near frenzy. I doubt his change in mood has anything to do with our esteemed presence, Walter, so I can only surmise what has caused such a noticeable Turn about." He directed his question to Reyn. "Am I correct?"
"What?" Walter ranted. "Correct about what, Innes? Damn and blast, man, if you know something I don't, it is your duty to enlighten me."
Grabbing the cheroot from the nearby table, Tam watched Reyn from beneath half-closed eyelids, drew a long breath, then exhaled. "I'd wager the Rock of Gibraltar that the Duke of Wilcott, Reynolds Blackburn, spawn of the devil himself, a man abhorrent to the holy state of matrimony, spent the night in the arms of his wife. Consummating his marriage."
"I'll be damned," Walter Hathaway managed to sputter. "Is that true?" While Reyn remained annoyingly tight-lipped, Walter shouted with laughter. "No wonder you're up and about so late this morning. Well, it's about time, my friend. I was beginning to fear for your good sense. I can't imagine how you tolerated these last months as it was. Had it been me, I would have succumbed to lust ages ago, regardless of the circumstance. But then again, your willpower has always put mine to shame." Walter slapped Reyn's back. "You must be back in your boots again."
Unable to resist the infectious good humor, Reyn chuckled. He did feel wonderful, his body replete from the night spent with Jocelyn. His only regret was that he had left his wife sleeping when he discovered he had guests this morning. There was still her mysterious past to solve, but his determination had increased by yards. Today was a new beginning for them. He would earn her confidence, learn her secrets and protect her, even if she fought him every step of the way. It was ludicrous for her to believe her silence kept him safe.
"Good morning."
Jocelyn's greeting halted any other thoughts. As she waltzed into the room, Reyn thought she glowed like a shooting star.
Only a slight glimmer of apprehension hid deep in her eyes. Eager to dispel any misgivings or regrets, wishing he could greet her properly, he traversed the floor and placed a light kiss upon her lips. She blushed a lovely shade of rose. "Good morning," he said, maintaining his grip on her chin. He uttered for her ears only. "Are you well?"
Nodding, she whispered, "I didn't know we had guests. You should have wakened me."
He exhaled a regretful sigh. `That would not have been the most prudent of choices. A fact that agitates me greatly." She stared at him blankly. "After I delivered you to your bed, I was gravely disappointed when I discovered I must leave you alone to entertain these two. I craved another type of sustenance altogether. I anticipated nibbling on something other than dry toast this morning."
She graced him with a sensual pout as she toyed with a
small button on his shirt. "Breakfast in bed? What an interesting idea." Glancing at his lips, she added, "I think I would like to try that sometime."
The blatant innuendo hurled his body into turmoil, his brain ringing like the parish bells on Sunday. Lurid images that would probably shock Jocelyn to her toes set his pulse to pounding. Had it not been for the harsh cough that reminded him of their guests, he would have carried her back upstairs and gladly fed on her delicious little body for another week or so. "Blast," he muttered under his breath, spinning rapidly toward his friends. "Were you two leaving?"
"Reyn," she gasped in mortification.
"Trust me. You needn't worry about their tender sensibilities."
Tam seemed to sense Reyn's dilemma. His voice held a tinge of laughter when he said, "Perhaps we should plan an outing for the day. All of us together."
Reyn growled a feral sound. "Not bloody likely."
Barely concealing his chuckles, Tam continued, "Down, boy." He addressed Jocelyn. "And you, my fair lady, have you plans for the day?"
"I hadn't really thought that far."
"She does," Reyn declared.
"She does?" Tam asked.
"I do?" Jocelyn asked.
"You do." Reyn said, his feet braced apart, openly challenging anyone to contradict him.
"What exactly do I have planned?" she asked.
Reyn crossed his arms and boasted a warning scowl as dark as his favorite boots. "A picnic." Both Tam and Walter howled with laughter, eliciting another grimace of disgust from Reyn.
Jocelyn beamed like a new copper penny. "I think a picnic sounds delightful." Another bout of jocularity from the two visitors prompted a churlish retort from her. "And what do you find so humorous that you must behave like a brace of boned mudlarks?"
Tam raised his hands in defense. "Have pity on us, Jocelyn. We have spent time with your husband in a variety of pastimes and settings. Seedy taverns, rowdy boxing matches, horse races, boisterous games of chance. We simply have difficulty comprehending the Duke of Wilcott on a picnic."
Walter added his opinion to Tam's. "Fresh air, sunshine, nasty buzzing cockchafers, little sandwiches and bits of food on a blanket." Lewdly, he waggled his eyebrows at Reyn. "E'gads, makes one wonder what else he plans to sample." That comment brought forth a new round of laughter, scowls and a blank stare from Jocelyn.
Eager to have his wife alone, Reyn interrupted. "Gentleman, and I use the term loosely, did you cross my doorstep to darken my day, or was there a purpose to your untimely arrival?"
Tam sobered momentarily. "Actually, we came to ask if you were leaving with us tomorrow for London."
Reyn watched his wife's shoulders slump as she toyed with the fragile Dresden vase, her eyes cast downward in an attempt to conceal her reaction. "I thought I would wait a day or two to make sure Jocelyn felt up to the trip."
Meeting his gaze alone, her eyes sparkled like a child's given her first stick of peppermint. Knowing his announcement pleased her, he swelled with a contentment he hadn't experienced in years. The startling sensation almost sent him running for the door until he forced himself to remember that she was his wife, his property. Of course she would accompany him to London. If that pleased her, then so much the better.
"Will you sail or come by coach?" Walter asked.
Trapped in his thoughts, Reyn continued to study Jocelyn.
"Well, blow me down with a breeze." Walter smiled impishly. "Excuse me, Reyn, but the Prince Regent has just arrived, naked, a diamond the size of Buckinghamshire tucked neatly in his navel."
"Navel? Whose navel?"
Tam's baritone laughter filled the large hall, gaining the couple's full attention. "Never mind. Woody wanted to know if you intend to sail or take a coach?"
Shaking his head, Reyn knew he was acting like a besotted piece of milktoast, yet he could not remove his gaze from his wife. He answered the question with annoyed brevity. "We will sail with one of the coal shipments."
Tam grabbed his hat and cloak, nudged Walter from his dumbfounded stupor with his elbow and launched one last barb. "It would appear 'tis you and me alone, Walter. We have been easily forgotten and shall receive no other meaningful conversation until Boodle's or White's."
As the afternoon sun peeked between the leaves of the willow bordering the lake, Jocelyn sat on a thick woolen blanket, on the planks of a shallow boat, discreetly appreciating her husband's virility. He lay opposite her, his hands clasped behind his head. His hair, catching bits of light like sun-dried wheat, contrasted his dark lashes, which enhanced the tawny color of his skin. His body, lean and muscular, appeared rigid and immovable. She knew better. After last night, she knew the touch would be warm, even hot.
Her heart thudded rapidly in her chest. When she remembered how generous he had been, she was almost able to believe he cared for her in some small way. They had made love for hours, each time his gentle patience taking her to a higher level of sensuality and passion. This morning, when she rose and found herself alone in bed, she had felt an intense sense of loss. She couldn't imagine life without him, yet she knew she would have to leave him someday. She clenched her hands into tight fists. She could not change the future, but if they could forget her past for now, perhaps they could enjoy their time together.
Leftover bits of food lay on top of the wicker basket. A slight breeze scattered bread crumbs toward Reyn's trousers. It also swept a lock of hair across his forehead. Succumbing to the powerful urge to touch him, she leaned forward to brush the curl back into place. Reyn's robin's-egg-colored eyes banked with mischief and met her frank appraisal. His full mouth rose to a mutinous smirk.
"Have you decided which part you shall begin with?" he said.
"Begin what?" she asked suspiciously.
"Your meal." The sides of his mouth curved upward. "You looked as though you wanted to devour every inch of me."
She tossed a slice of bread at his head while snorting in a most unladylike fashion. "You know nothing then." In order to guard her secret reflections, she eyed a pair of merlins nestled in the heather that skirted the water's edge. "I was thinking of how ingenious you are. Who else would hold a picnic in a boat on a lake?" As an afterthought, she added, "Besides, you were the one with breakfast on your mind earlier."
"Hah!" He didn't believe her for a minute. "I wouldn't mind, you know. I've had similar thoughts ever since Tam and Walter left." He edged closer to her end of the skiff. "I've never made love in a boat."
"And you shan't today." His hands, resting on her knee, inched toward her now-throbbing center. They couldn't possibly make love. Not in a boat. Not in broad daylight. As her mind conjured the tantalizing image, her pulse raced and her skin grew warm. "Reyn, please-"
"Oh, darling, I assure you, there is no need to beg. I am more than willing to comply." His hands reached the apex of her thighs, gently cradling her sex. "Already your body prepares itself. Doesn't it, Jocelyn?"
Speechless, she lay perfectly still. Resistance existed only in her mind. Yes. She would eagerly welcome him.
He lifted himself to press his lips to hers. The kiss burst into a war of passion, tongues plunging and retreating, simulating the lovemaking to come.
Her clothes seemed to melt away under the sun, delicate linen of pink and white gingham pooling about her body. She had become shameless, she realized. Willingly, in the middle of the day, she sat naked in a small boat concealed only by the weeping limbs of a willow. Sister Mary Kathleen would have banished her to the chapel floor for eternity if she'd witnessed this display of earthy abandonment. It didn't matter. She was beyond thinking, concerned only with feeling.
Shivering in anticipation while balanced on her knees, she began to slip the buttons, one by one, from Reyn's shirt to place wet kisses on the golden skin. Last night, he had tended to her endlessly. Today, his pleasure became hers. When she uncovered a bronzed nipple hidden beneath the pelt of dark fur, her tongue traced gentle circles, wringing a groan of delight from Reyn. Her delica
te fingers found the bold shape that strained against his breeches, and he seemed to extend higher and harder against her palm. It was heaven on earth to know someone so intimately, to share oneself so completely. The power of her touch became intoxicating. She captured his mouth again, teasing him with her tongue as he had taught her.
"Now, Jocelyn, now."
His voice sounded harsh and raspy to her ears, and she willingly complied, loosening the few buttons to take the hardened flesh into her hands, openly marveling at the strength and texture of his body.
Like a man possessed, he shoved his pants below his hips, collapsed to the bottom of the boat, pulled Jocelyn on top of him and thrust inside her. Beneath a clear blue sky, he taught Jocelyn the beauty of power and control as he held her hips firmly in his hands and established a blinding pace until they were both transported into blessed oblivion.
In the aftermath, moist from exertion, Jocelyn burrowed against Reyn's shoulder. Her sighs of contentment, mixed with her deep breathing, sent wisps of hair dancing across his chest. The turbulent emotions calmed, and she noticed the satisfied grin on Reyn's face.
Arrogantly, he said, "Do you think we left any water in the lake?"
Tensing, prepared to flee his hold and find her discarded clothing, she felt his arms tighten around her waist. He lifted her chin, forcing her downcast face toward his.
"Don't turn all missish on me. I am greatly pleased. Passion becomes you. You looked like a wild fairy creature riding my rod."
If possible, she knew her entire body blushed three shades of red. How ridiculous, she thought. One moment she screamed like a banshee and the next hid like a rabbity spinster. If honest with herself, she doubted she would have stopped their lovemaking short of an army invasion.
She leaned on her elbows, her hair draped like a golden curtain around them. "Are you my mythical satyr, his lot in life to seduce young maids into unrestrained debauchery?"
He pulled her face toward his and reverently kissed her lips. "Yes, I believe it was my fate to seduce you."