by Irene Estep
"Oh, yes." The inheritance had briefly slipped Claresta’s mind, but obviously Drake had not forgotten for even a moment. "It is important to you, isn’t it?"
"To you, too, Claresta. Else you would not have been so anxious to snare me, would you?"
Claresta would liked to have snared him for many other reasons, but he would never have given her a second thought if not for her money. That was all the marriage meant to him. She felt hurt and betrayed, yet she could not fault him, for she, too, had been willing to use him to her own ends.
But, suddenly her inheritance seemed to be less important to her than before. If Drake Lockwood, Earl of Norwood, had asked her a moment ago to live with him in a hovel, she knew she would have agreed to do it. For the first time in her life Claresta knew how it felt to be in love. It was a secret she would take to her grave.
Her poise once more in place, she said, "You are absolutely right, my lord. I shall have Lizette begin packing immediately."
"One thing more," he said as she turned to leave. "I will expect my wife to conduct herself in a more refined manner than you did yesterday. A boat is not the proper place to perform one of your spirited antics."
Spirited antics? How could she possibly have been so daftheaded as to think herself in love with this pompous being. She had a strong urge to show him just how spirited her antics could become, wishing nothing better than to settle him a facer at the moment. She saw the twitching of his lips, and the amused gleam in his unsettling blue eyes. Drat the man, she’d get the better of him by not losing her temper, but it was extremely difficult.
"Yes, my lord. You are quite right, my lord. I shall act demure and unassuming from this day forward, my lord. Is there anything else you wish of me, my lord?"
He turned and walked slowly toward the window. His attention remained for a long moment on the outdoors then he spoke as if the words were forced from him. "My mother drowned, you know."
Everything became instantly clear to Claresta. He’d been reminded yesterday of the mishap that took his mother’s life. She didn’t think there was any point in telling him she’d never been in any real danger, he would never believe her now, especially after she played the invalid on the ride home. Claresta took a step toward Drake, feeling a strong desire to comfort him for his loss, but his back became so stiff and erect when he heard her approaching him that she knew instinctively he would reject any show of sympathy.
Then, the moment of awkwardness left him, and he turned around with that devilish smile of his. "One more request before you go."
"Request, my lord?" Claresta said wryly.
"As you wish, my dear. A directive, it shall be. You are to call me by my Christian name, as I already asked you, or face the consequences."
She gave him a condescending smile and sallied toward the door. There she turned, bowed her head and curtsied in a servile manner. "As you wish, my . . .
When she glanced up and saw the cloud of darkness enter the earl’s gaze, she thought better of teasing him further.
"I have already picked out the material for my dress. A shade that would go well with my father’s sapphire stickpin." And your eyes, she almost added. "As for gewgaws, I think a gentleman of Quality should pay just as much attention to the proper attire as a lady, should he not? I hope you will do me the honor of making that selection and any other you wish from my father’s jewelry to wear at the wedding ceremony."
"Certainly, love. Have Douglas bring it round to the house in Cheyne Walk beforehand."
A puzzled frown furrowed Claresta’s brow. "But you already have the case, sir."
Drake’s expression reflected a moment of bewilderment, then as comprehension seemed to settle in his jaw tightened as he asked, "If you will recall, Claresta, I returned the case to you the night of the dinner. Are you saying that it is missing?"
Claresta tried to think whether the case was there after Drake left that night, but could not recall, Reggie had rushed her out of the room so quickly. If Drake did not take the case-- and why should he lie now that the jewelry would become his by rights anyway--then there was only two other persons present at the time that could have removed it from the premises. Mr. Thurmond and Reggie.
It didn’t take long for her to figure out which. "One of the servants may have put it away without telling me. I am certain it shall turn up in good time."
She left the room, determined to confront her cousin about the missing case. Knowing Reggie’s inclination for the cards, she only hoped it was not too late.
* * *
Claresta found Reggie taking nuncheon in the dining room. With Aunt Ester, Lady Norwood, and Mr. Thurmond in attendance she could not very well broach the subject of his thievery. She assumed Drake decided to have his meal in the library with Mr. Rutherford, whom she saw pacing the anteroom, waiting for his turn with his lordship as she walked out.
As she was about to ask Reggie to take a turn in the garden with her later, Douglas threw open the double doors and announced Dr. Adams.
Claresta quickly changed her mind. After all, she could interview her cousin anytime, but this may be her last chance to talk with Dr. Adams about the expectations for a wife. The subject he embarked upon gave her the perfect opportunity to speak with him alone.
"The place is taking on a look of human habitation, Lady Norwood. I swear one doesn’t even have to break a path to the door anymore."
Lady Norwood chortled at the doctor’s jest. "‘Tis true. The LeClair boy has done wonders with the landscape since your last visit."
"You should see the garden, it is truly taking shape under his skilled hands," Claresta said.
"I’d be delighted to take a look as long as I have your lovely company in the process," Dr. Adams replied.
"Shouldn’t you be on your way to the Childers’ place, sir? She is very near her term from what I hear," a disagreeable voice said from the doorway.
"Ah, the patient is definitely on the mend, it seems," Dr. Adams said, giving Drake a look from head to toe. When Drake continued to give him the glare, the doctor chuckled and said, "As it so happens, I just spent a long night with Mrs. Childers. She delivered triplets just before dawn."
"Triplets!" Lady Westhaven retrieved her vinaigrette and took a deep sniff.
"‘Tis a wonder the poor thing survived," Lady Norwood said.
Claresta placed a shaky hand on Dr. Adams’ sleeve. "You didn’t say, did-did she survive?"
"Indeed, and all three of the girls, as well." He squeezed Claresta’s hand, but dropped it quickly when he saw the feral gleam in Norwood’s eyes.
"Rotten luck." Reggie said. "Girls can not be much use to a farmer."
"Perhaps not a boom to the farmer, but I’m certain the farmer’s wife considers it quite a blessing, especially one who’s already given her husband five strapping lads to help him in the fields," Drake said.
How many men would consider the birth of daughters a godsend for anyone? Claresta looked up and smiled at Drake. The tenseness in his jaw dissolved before her eyes. What an enigma, she thought, so strong and forceful one moment and gentle and caring the next. At least, it was plain he kept abreast of his tenants’ needs. "Will you join us, my lord?"
Drake’s jaw renewed its ticking motion, and she wondered if it were because she’d not addressed him as per his final instructions.
"We are about finished," Lady Norwood said, "but please do sit down, Norwood, and Douglas will fill you a plate."
"Thank you, madam, but I only came in to request something be sent to the library."
"Should think that’s what a bell pull is for," Reggie mumbled facetiously as he delicately dabbed the corner of his lips with his napkin.
"No need for you to see me before you leave, Doctor." With that remark, Drake spun around and left.
"Well, I cannot say, even if one would expect it from an American, I’ve ever witnessed such rude behavior from Lord Norwood," Lady Westhaven said.
"He has a lot on his mind," Claresta defend
ed, which brought a titter from Lady Norwood.
"Don’t we all," Reggie uttered with a sigh.
Claresta would have remarked on that comment, except Dr. Adams said, "We can take that walk in the garden now, Miss Huntington, if you are finished."
* * *
Drake tried to concentrate on what Rutherford was saying, but he kept pacing to the window that looked out over the garden. Claresta was supposed to be showing Adams the garden, but thus far they’d spent most of their time sitting on the bench conversing. When Adams took her gloved hand in his, Drake wanted to go down and tear the man away from her. Although, the gesture didn’t seem lover-like. Perhaps it was the fact she laughed so often around the man that irritated Drake. If he had not stepped in and signed the papers, would she have taken her proposition to Adams? The thought did not set well with him.
He watched their heads bowed together as if in intimate conversation, almost touching, they were. Did she not realize it was unseemly to spend so much time with another gentleman now that she was betrothed to him? She should have a chaperone that took more notice of her independent ways. When he realized that Rutherford was waiting for a response from him, he turned and asked, "I’m sorry, sir, what were you saying?"
"Would you like to continue this another day, my lord? I can see that your thoughts are elsewhere."
"Perhaps you’re right. Let’s get back to the progress you’ve made finding Runners to watch Gilbert House upon Miss Huntington’s return."
"As I explained," Rutherford said, wondering why his lordship needed the explanation repeated, "I sent word by mail coach yesterday to the agency dealing in these matters and received word back this morning. Two men should be in place within the next day or so."
"That’s not good enough. I want someone there immediately upon her return, watching her night and day. And only two men could hardly do an adequate job of it."
"Well, sir. I can only think it best to hire a few of the village lads hereabouts to take along with you. If the lady questions your motives, you could use Lady Norwood’s fear of highwaymen as the reason for using more outriders."
"Excellent idea, Rutherford. Will you see to it?"
"Right away, sir," he said, but his lordship was once again staring out the window.
* * *
Hours after Lizette left her room Claresta paced the floor. In just a few more weeks she would be a married woman. She’d been too embarrassed to ask Dr. Adams to go into full detail about the marriage bed. And once he’d gotten into the discussion of child-birthing methods she’d found the subject much more fascinating. She regretted there had not been such a dedicated doctor around when her mother had needed one. She’d made Dr. Adams promise he’d attend her if ever she became enceinte.
She had to believe that Drake would want to produce an heir as soon as possible. Most noblemen expected their wives to produce at least one male descendant. But what if her firstborn were a girl? They would have to try again then, wouldn’t they? The prospect of making love to Drake time after time sent a delicious shiver up and down her spine.
She ventured into the dressing room that connected with Drake’s room. A light glowed at the base of the threshold. Surely her concerns about the number of children they should have was something one should discuss before the wedding ceremony? As she lifted her hand to knock, the door flew open, and she stumbled backward.
Drake caught and steadied her. Even after he’d released her, Claresta continued to feel his strong hands warming the places on her arms where he’d touched. She rubbed her arms and stepped back another few paces. He followed and soon she was standing in the middle of her bedroom.
Robed in his dressing gown, he leaned against the door frame and asked, "Having trouble sleeping, Claresta?"
"Y-Yes. I am a bit restless tonight."
"Perhaps you took too much fresh air today."
"Fresh air?"
She was perplexed about his meaning until he said, "You and Dr. Adams spent a long time admiring the gardens. I shouldn’t think there was that much to see as LeClair has just set out a few bulbs and seedlings thus far."
Claresta’s gaze shot up to meet Drake’s. Her heart began to thrum inside her chest. Did a glimmer of jealousy shine behind that cold steely look of his? The thought made her almost giddy. She’d never before found possessiveness a worthwhile trait in a man. Did being betrothed change one’s outlook on such matters?
"What did you two talk about?"
His tone was beginning to prickle her senses with irritation, but Claresta saw no reason not to tell him. In fact, it was along the lines of what she’d wished to discuss with him anyway. "We were discussing expectations of a new bride."
Her forthrightness didn’t seem to shock Drake as much as she’d expected. He stepped closer and skimmed her cheek with the back of his hand, then he lifted her chin until their eyes met. "I do hope he left some of the more intimate instruction for your future husband."
"Dr. Adams’ had several patients to see before sundown. I’m afraid he did not have the time to go into the particulars of how one becomes with child."
Drake threw back his head and laughed. "I must send thanks to the sick and infirm of the district."
Claresta slapped his hand away. "That is disgusting."
He pulled her to him and brushed his lips gently across hers. Claresta thought she could not pull away from him should her life depend upon it.
"Do you find it so disgusting, my love, that I wish to be the one to introduce my wife to the proceedings of the marriage bed? Do you?" he whispered against her lips when she did not answer.
"N-no, my lord. " Her legs had become jelly, and she had to cling to the lapels of his dressing gown for stability.
"Good," he said. "Should I start your first lesson tonight, love, or would you rather wait until our wedding night."
"D-Do you not think it always best one is prepared to know what is expected?"
"Precisely. And you will inform me of your expectations as well."
"My expectations?"
"Did you think only the man gets to have a say in these matters?"
"Well, Nan told me a little. She never mentioned exactly how the man took part, but she said all a woman needed do was lie still and think of England."
He chuckled. "Do either, if you think you can, Claresta."
Then he kissed her again. This time his tongue pushed between her lips and swirled a probing path inside her mouth. Even the kiss in the library had not been this intimate, this devouring, and finally her knees gave way completely. She felt herself being lifted and dumped upon the feather bed. He came down on top of her, and the pressure of his body against hers felt very nice. All the time he kept kissing her. And try as she might she couldn’t think of England or anything else, outside of her nipples that tingled where they rubbed against his warm, hard flesh.
His dressing gown had parted, and she slid her hands beneath and over his bare shoulders, and pulled him closer. She wanted to increase the contact.
Drake must have read her mind for he began snatching at the ribbons at the top of her gown. Soon she was bare to the waist, but he did not press against her again as she’d hoped he would. Instead he cupped her round globes of flesh and squeezed. She was shocked by the pleasure, so intense, so disturbing that it caused her to raise her hips into the hard ridge that pressed against her stomach.
Drake sucked in his breath. "Easy, sweeting." He lifted himself away, removed her gown and tossed it to the floor. For a long moment his eyes lingered on the patch of strawberry curls at the juncture of her legs. "My god, you are beautiful."
She felt the heat rise in that area, but then she remembered something Nan had once told her. "It is true, then, that a man only wants what’s between a gel’s legs."
Drake again moved over her, keeping his full weight off by bracing himself on his elbows. "Well, I can only speak for myself, but I kind of like the whole package."
He leaned down and suckled at one of
her breasts.
Claresta had never felt anything so tantalizing. It was as if she felt the pulling sensation all the way down to that very same place in recent question. He lifted his head and asked, "Are you thinking of England now, love?"
"W-What?" she whispered and arched upward when he gave her other breast equal attention.
"Just as I thought." He slid one hand along her stomach, curling his palm over her mound in a most intimate gesture. "I do declare, Claresta, you are not lying still, either."
She was mortified to realize her hips undulated against his probing fingers. And she was getting so wet, she must be disgusting him. But, he didn’t seem to notice, and when she tried to stop her hip from rotating, he increased the pressure, moving further into her wet passage. There seemed little she could do to stop herself from bucking to meet his titillating touch. "Drake, I can’t . . . please . . ."
"Shhhh. Just let yourself enjoy the feel it, darling. You feel so good. Claresta, I want you so much. I want to be inside you, just like this, moving in and out of your tight, hot walls of softness."
Something suddenly burst inside her. She clung to Drake’s hand, pushing up each time the rippling explosions raked her body. Finally, the fog of pleasure began to dissipate, and she realized Drake was trying to remove his hand, but she had it trapped tightly between her thighs. She quickly released him.
"Oh God," he said and dropped to her side, covering his eyes with his forearm.
She felt a loss for words. She reached out to touch him, and he suddenly bolted from the bed. For the first time she realized that while she’d lain stark naked before him, he’d not removed a stitch. Not that he seemed to notice her nakedness any longer, for he did not turn around as he headed for his own room.
"I must say, Claresta, for a first lesson, you met all my expectations," he said and slammed the door behind him.
Claresta, not one to remain docile for long, jumped from the bed, pulled her dressing gown about her and pounded on his door.