Tessa's Touch

by Brenda Hiatt

  "Perhaps we can all go," Tessa said, delighted at the idea of spending more time with her new sisters-in-law, but Sarah shook her head.

  "I'm no horsewoman, I fear, for I've had little practice, though Peter is teaching me. I would love to watch, however."

  It was agreed among them that if the weather accomodated, they would ride in the Park tomorrow. Anthony promised to procure a mount for Tessa from his father's stables or from one of his brothers, as Cinnamon was still in Leicestershire.

  Once they were all seated in the austerely opulent dining room, the group became more subdued under the watchful eyes of the Duchess and her eldest daughter-in-law. Tessa, seated at the Duke's right hand, hardly dared speak at all, managing only brief responses if someone directed a query to her.

  Anthony and his younger brothers were more animated, occasionally poking subtle fun at their eldest brother. Lord Bagstead seemed largely oblivious, though Tessa noticed that the Duke sent more than one disapproving frown their way.

  Not surprisingly, strict formality was observed in the matter of the ladies removing to the parlor as soon as the meal ended, leaving the gentlemen to whatever it was gentlemen did when alone. The Duchess led the way, followed by Lady Bagstead.

  Tessa was distressed to discover she was to go next, as Anthony was the next eldest son present, followed by Sarah and then Quinn. No such ceremony was observed in the country —at least, not among any of the families she knew —so this extra bit of pomp took her by surprise and struck her as both unnecessary and a bit ridiculous.

  "Now, Augusta," said the Duchess to Lady Bagstead once they were all seated in the parlor, "do tell me how dear little William does. I spoke with his nurse yesterday, but she told me only that he is in fine health."

  "He is indeed, Your Grace," replied Lady Bagstead in the pleasantest tones Tessa had yet heard her use. "I'm sure you will agree that he is exceptionally large for only five years old, and promises to grow into a tall and handsome young man. His speech is quite advanced for his age, as well."

  The two continued to discuss the boy, whom Quinn informed Tessa was next in line for the dukedom after Lord Bagstead and therefore of particular importance. "I rather doubt that dear Rosalie, Edward's wife, will receive so much attention when her child makes its appearance," she said in an undertone.

  "Though, to be fair, the Duchess really does seem to dote on little William as any fond grandmother might," Sarah put in. "Perhaps she will show similar affection for Edward's child, even if it should have the misfortune to be a girl." They all chuckled quietly.

  All too soon for Tessa's comfort, the Duchess turned her attention from her grandson back to her newest daughter-in-law, asking her about Wheatstone and her parents. As at dinner, Tessa gave the briefest answers possible without rudeness, unwilling to volunteer any information that would give her autocratic mother-in-law yet more reason to despise her.

  "I presume that gown is representative of your wardrobe?" the Duchess asked then.

  Tessa glanced down at her very best gown, which she had already realized looked hopelessly dowdy next to the fashionable ensembles of the other ladies. "I . . . Yes, Your Grace."

  "I feared as much. I should like to think my son would have made certain —but no. Anthony never did pay proper attention to such things. Still, you must have something better if you are to attend Lady Twyford's ball with us, two nights hence."

  A ball? A London ball? Tessa fought down the panic that rose in her throat at the thought. "I . . . I don't see how—" she began, vaguely hoping that her inferior wardrobe might prevent her from attending. Why had she ever agreed to come here?

  "We can take her shopping tomorrow, Your Grace," Quinn offered. "Can't we, Sarah? You are welcome to come as well, Lady Bagstead. And Your Grace, too, if you should wish to offer your advice."

  But those two ladies evinced identical expressions of distaste. "Tomorrow is one of my at-home days," the Duchess informed them. "I presume you will wish to be here to receive callers with me, Augusta?"

  Lady Bagstead nodded. "Of course, Your Grace. Indeed, like yourself, I never go into the shops myself. It is far more convenient to have the modistes come to me, I find."

  "But not half so fun," Quinn whispered to Tessa with a pert grin. Then, aloud, "We will call directly after breakfast, then, Tessa. Lord Anthony is welcome to come along, of course, but if he is like most men, you can count on him to find a plausible reason to decline."

  The Duchess then took control of the conversation again, offering advice on fashion, deportment and which people it was important for Tessa to meet while in Town, until the gentlemen joined them.

  Anthony was soon apprised of the proposed shopping expedition and, as Quinn had predicted, excused himself on the grounds that he needed to find a suitable mount for Tessa's use during their stay in Town.

  "You'll all do much better without me, at any rate," he concluded. "Peter may be up on all the latest fashions, but I, like most of us ignorant males, haven't the least clue which colors or sleeves or frills are in or out this season."

  Even Lord Peter showed no inclination to join them, however, offering, along with Lord Marcus, to help Anthony with his task, instead. "With any luck, we'll have a hack for you by the time you return," Lord Peter said with an encouraging smile.

  Though the evening as a whole was rather an ordeal, when Tessa accompanied Anthony upstairs at the conclusion of it, she was able to look forward to the morrow with a fair degree of eagerness.

  "Perhaps you were right," she told him as he escorted her up to her bedchamber, which adjoined his own. "Perhaps, with Quinn's and Sarah's help, I can do this after all. They are both showing me uncommon kindness and I confess I like them very much."

  With a motion of his head, he dismissed her waiting maid so that they could be private. When the girl had gone, Tessa looked around the sumptuous room that had been set aside for her use, so grand that she couldn't quite feel she belonged in it.

  "I . . . I don't suppose it would be possible for us to stay with one of your brothers, instead of here?"

  Regretfully, he shook his head. "Not on this visit, at least not without offending my parents. But we will not be here long, you know —only a few days. When next we come to London, we'll arrange to stay elsewhere, I promise you."

  Though she knew that was meant to be encouraging, Tessa's heart sank at this intimation that they would be making more and possibly longer visits to Town in the future. She had seen but little of London as yet, but already she felt stifled here —and not only because of the dirty fog. She simply wasn't suited to city life.

  "Besides," he said when she did not reply, "anywhere we can be together can be home, can it not?" Smiling intimately down at her, he gathered her into his arms.

  She nodded, feeling oddly shy— perhaps because she now had a clearer idea of the position in Society her husband occupied. He was even further above her than she'd realized —but she knew that if she said so, he would only laugh and try to soothe her.

  "I hope I can always make you feel at home, Anthony," she said instead, tentatively stroking his sleeve.

  He lowered his lips to hers. "With you here, I feel more at home in this house than I ever have before," he assured her. Then he was kissing her and the pressure of his lips drove her doubts from her mind, leaving no room for anything but him, for the feelings he aroused in her.

  With an urgency she didn't fully understand, she helped him to remove her clothing and then his, stopping only for frequent kisses, until they faced each other completely unclad. Tessa devoured his perfect body with her eyes, even as she saw him doing the same to hers. Certainly, he didn't seem to find her inferior in any way to other women —not here, not now.

  After one long moment of mutual appreciation, they were in each other's arms again, flesh against flesh, lips against lips. With a low growl, Anthony moved backward, dragging her with him, to collapse on the bed with her atop him.

  For an instant Tessa felt a passing wo
rry for the satin counterpane that doubtless cost more than her entire bedroom at Wheatstone, but then Anthony's hands were stroking her back, her sides, the nape of her neck, and such trivial matters were forgotten in another wild rush of desire.

  Anthony had not been oblivious to the byplay between his mother, sisters-in-law and Tessa that evening. He knew that she still felt out of her element, but he had told the simple truth when he'd said that when she was with him, he was home —no matter where he was. Now, with her above him, her beautiful, athletic, voluptuous body pressed against his, he knew beyond doubt that without her he would never feel complete again.

  With one knee he nudged her legs apart and then she took the initiative, straddling him, rubbing her secret, shadowed cleft against his straining arousal so that he had to forcibly control himself, to wait until she could match him in pleasure. Spanning her narrow waist with both hands, he lifted her slightly, then impaled her with his shaft, finding her slick and ready for him.

  She gave a gasp, then a moan, and began rocking atop him, driving him closer and closer to the edge. This position gave him easy access to her sensitive nubbin, and he gently massaged her there, bringing her along with him to the very brink of climax.

  Finally, with her head thrown back, panting in rhythm with his thrusts, she cried aloud and convulsed about him. Driving upward, he buried himself deep within her and released his control, emptying himself into her in an ecstatic rush.

  After a long, trembling moment, they relaxed as one, Tessa lowering herself atop him again to nestle her face confidingly in the hollow of his throat. He cradled her to him in silent wonderment, amazed anew that such a woman could be his. Surely he'd done nothing in his life to deserve such a rich reward?

  "Never let anyone make you feel you are less than you are, Tessa," he whispered as they both drifted off to sleep, still entwined. "To me, you rank above every woman in the world."

  * * *

  Anthony's last words still had the power to warm Tessa as she dressed the next morning. He had risen early, waking her only slightly as he kissed her before returning to his own room. She remembered that he and his brothers had planned an early visit to the mews on her behalf.

  For a moment she considered following them, then realized that was impossible here in London. The sorts of activities she took for granted in the country would raise eyebrows and more in Town. She reminded herself that this was to be a short stay, that she would be back at her beloved Wheatstone soon.

  "Thank you, Sally. That looks very nice," she told her maid as she put the finishing touches to Tessa's hair.

  Today's gown, a yellow walking dress, was even more countrified than the one she'd worn to dinner, but she tried not to dwell on it, as that was the point of her shopping trip today. She trusted Quinn and Sarah to bring her in line with current fashions. She only hoped they could do it without spending more than she and Anthony could afford.

  Over breakfast, which she took alone in the dining room, as the Duchess and Lady Bagstead had not yet risen, she continued to worry about what this expedition might cost. Should she have asked Anthony how much she could reasonably spend? Too late now.

  She was just finishing a second cup of tea when a footman led Quinn and Sarah into the room.

  "Ah, I see you are an early riser," Quinn exclaimed. "I told Sarah you would be, used as you are to country hours. This will give us a chance to have Madame Fanchot to ourselves, while most other ladies in Town are still sitting in their boudoirs sipping chocolate."

  "How luxurious that sounds," Tessa said, greeting her sisters-in-law with a smile. "I confess such a plan never occurred to me. At home, I would have been up for hours by now."

  Sarah nodded. "I was the same when I first came to London, for I'd spent several years at school, where we were required to rise before the sun did. And Quinn, of course, came here from America, where they do things rather differently."

  "Better, in other words," said Quinn loftily, then grinned. "I don't seem able to convince any of my English family of that, however. But now, if you are finished eating, let us go. We have a great deal to accomplish this morning."

  Tessa soon discovered that she was right. Their first stop was the modiste's shop. Madame Fanchot was clearly well acquainted with both Quinn and Sarah, and seemed delighted at the chance to outfit Tessa as well.

  "Oui, I can have a ballgown for her by tomorrow night," she said in response to Quinn's explanation of their needs. "And a day dress or two by the following day. Now, let us consider fabrics, shall we?"

  With a flick of her fingers, she directed her assistants to bring out bolts of silks, satins and velvets of every imaginable hue and pattern, spreading them across sofas and tables for consideration.

  "Lady Anthony has a richer complexion than some," she said, which Tessa thought a very discreet way of saying that she was far more tanned than was fashionable, owing to the time she spent outdoors at home.

  "This gives us more leeway in the matter of color than some ladies might enjoy," the modiste continued. "Here, hold up that amethyst velvet." Her assistant hastened to comply. "Yes, that will do nicely for a winter walking dress."

  Over the next hour, Madame Fanchot recommended various day dresses, evening gowns and riding habits, showing Tessa fashion plates of the styles she meant to match with the various fabrics. In addition, she triumphantly produced a ballgown in rich cream and gold brocade with rust-colored trim that needed only a little work to be fitted to Tessa's measurements.

  At one point, when the modiste had accompanied her assistants to the back room to find a particular length of lace, the dazzled Tessa whispered urgently to Quinn, "How much will all of this cost? Neither Anthony nor my father—"

  But Sarah smiled and shook her head. "Pray, don't worry about that. Peter spoke with the Duke and Duchess last night on just that concern, and they both agreed that we must not stint. They have set aside an allowance that you will find it difficult to exceed."

  Tessa stared. "That rather smacks of charity, does it not? I cannot think that Anthony would care to be so indebted to his parents for my wardrobe."

  "I imagine they regard it in the light of ensuring you are a credit to their son—and to them," Quinn said.

  Sarah nodded her agreement. "Believe me, I understand exactly how you feel, for I brought nothing at all to my marriage."

  Considering Sarah's exceptional beauty, Tessa could not agree, but she did understand what both ladies were saying. Appearances were of supreme importance to the Duke and Duchess of Marland, and they had more than enough money to ensure that Tessa would not embarrass them —at least in the matter of her clothing.

  She therefore tried to relax and enjoy herself, which was surprisingly easy to do. Madame Fanchot's taste was exquisite and she could not help imagining Anthony's face when he saw her properly attired, as stylish as any London lady.

  On leaving the modiste's shop, the three ladies proceeded to a milliner's shop for a selection of bonnets, continued on to a boot and shoe retailer's, then to a dry goods store to complete Tessa's ensembles with appropriate ribbons, parasols, gloves and other accessories. Tessa was near the back of the store sorting through some artificial flowers while the others examined a display of stockings, when a strident feminine voice cut through the shop.

  "Lady Marcus, upon my word," the newcomer exclaimed. "Just the lady I was hoping to see."

  Tessa glanced up to see a lovely, voluptuous brunette, her full lips redder than nature had likely tinted them.

  "How nice to see you, Lady Adelaide," Quinn responded. Tessa perceived a coolness in her tone she had not heard before. "Have you but recently arrived in Town?"

  The brunette nodded. "Last week. Is it true your brother-in-law, Lord Anthony, has just come to Town as well? I hear he is staying at Marland House. I scarcely dared believe it, as I know he is always in the Shires at this season."

  "Yes, it's true," Quinn told her. "But I don't believe you have met my sister-in-law, Lady Peter No
rthrup, nor—"

  "Delighted, delighted," Lady Adelaide interrupted with a distracted smile at Sarah. "Tell me, Lady Marcus, will Lord Anthony be at Lady Twyford's ball tomorrow night? He all but offered for me last Spring, you know, so I am determined that when he first sees me, he will be completely smitten again."

  Quinn's laugh sounded forced, ringing harshly in Tessa's stunned ears. "I fear you may have overestimated his interest, Lady Adelaide," she said. "As it happens—"

  But now Lady Adelaide laughed in her turn. "Oh, I think not." Then, lowering her voice to a carrying whisper that Tessa had no difficulty hearing, "We became rather, ah, intimate, if truth be told. Had my father known, he would have insisted on marriage before now, but of course I preferred to wait for a proper declaration from dear Anthony."

  Tessa swallowed painfully. This beauty, this titled Lady, had been on the point of marrying Anthony last Spring? Had been . . . intimate with him? Mistresses were one thing, but—

  "I have someone else to introduce to you, Lady Adelaide," Quinn said firmly, turning. "This is my newest sister-in-law, Lady Anthony Northrup."

  * * *

  CHAPTER 19

  If the floor had opened to swallow her at that moment, Tessa would have been eternally grateful. As it did not, she had no choice but to come forward, a smile pinned painfully to her face.

  "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady Adelaide," she forced herself to say.

  Lady Adelaide looked no more pleased than Tessa felt, turning pale, then flushing red. Tessa hoped fervently she was hiding her own feelings better than the newcomer seemed able to do.

  "Lady . . . Anthony," Lady Adelaide said flatly, her eyes narrowing as they swept Tessa from head to toe. "What a . . . surprise, to be sure."

  With an effort, Tessa clung to her smile. "I suppose it would be, as our marriage was quite recent. I don't believe there has yet been an announcement in the London papers."