Just One Kiss

by Dayna Quince

  “You are the Countess of Bainbridge, not her. She never was, never will be. The staff has been telling me—”

  “No.” Hazel put a hand up. “We have to live together for the time being. I want to start how I mean to go on, and I intend to deal with her with kindness and forbearance. She raised Bainbridge from the time he was a young boy. She deserves my respect.”

  “You are far kinder than I, Lady Hazel,” Mary responded.

  Hazel didn’t know what Mary meant by that statement. Mary had turned to hang her dressing robe and fiddle about the room. It wasn’t what she said but the way she said it. It was ominous.

  “Will you ring for me after dinner?” Mary asked her voice light again.

  Excited fluttering filled Hazel. “I’m not sure.”

  Mary smiled. “Let us hope you don’t.” She winked.

  Hazel waved her away. “Off with you, minx.”

  Hazel squared her shoulders and left her room. She poked her head into her husband’s room, but no one was there. She was supposed to meet the staff before dinner, but that had been before Mrs. Danford had usurped their plans. Descending the stairs, she found Garrett and Mrs. Danford in the drawing room.

  “You needn’t join us if you don’t wish to.”

  She heard Mrs. Danford saying. Hazel tensed. If she had to endure dinner with Mrs. Danford on her own, she was tempted to turn her ankle right now and crawl back to her room if need be.

  “Of course, I will join you. This is her first night in her new home. I will show her all that Bainbridge Hall has to offer.”

  Hazel smiled. She was already smitten with what Bainbridge Hall had to offer, all except Mrs. Danford.

  She met Quinn at the entryway to the drawing room.

  “Good evening, Quinn. No need to announce me.”

  “As you wish, ma’am. Good evening to you, as well. I will assemble the staff as Mrs. Danford requested.” He bowed.

  Hazel wasn’t sure what that meant so she just nodded and entered.

  “Good evening.” She strolled in and took the seat closest to where Garrett stood. He smiled warmly.

  “Good evening, wife.”

  Hazel returned his smile with answering warmth. She felt it radiate through her body. “Good evening, husband.”

  “Good evening, Lady Hazel,” Mrs. Danford answered shrilly.

  Hazel turned to her, having completely forgotten her once her eyes met Garrett’s. “Good evening, Mrs. Danford. Are you feeling well?”

  “Why, yes. Why ever would you think otherwise?”

  “My maid, Mary, had mentioned Emily making you a tisane.”

  Mrs. Danford scoffed. “I certainly hope your maid is not a harbinger of ill gossip.”

  “Hardly gossip. Just an observation made in care for your wellbeing,” Hazel defended.

  Mrs. Danford did an odd little wiggle of her shoulders and pinched her lips together. “Well, I am in the peak of health.”

  “That is wonderful,” Hazel murmured.

  “Shall we move on to the introductions?” Garrett intervened.

  The women stood. Garrett offered his arm to Hazel.

  “Oh!” Mrs. Danford gasped. “Bain, lend me your arm. My legs are terribly stiff from that horribly sprung carriage.”

  “I am fully capable of escorting two beautiful women to dinner. Perhaps that is why God blessed me with two arms.”

  “Oh! Heavens, Bain. You do have your father’s wicked tongue.” Mrs. Danford tittered.

  Hazel was not amused. She was sure that carriage had been her father’s finest. Garrett escorted them to the hall where the staff had assembled.

  “Do let me have the honor,” Mrs. Danford said as she released Garrett’s arm and stepped forward. She held her hand out to Hazel.

  Hazel looked at Garrett, but he was only smiling pleasantly. She stepped forward and placed her hand in Mrs. Danford’s. Thank goodness for the silk gloves separating their skin or Hazel might have shivered with distaste. She was well on her way to despising the woman. She mustn’t let herself get to such a place. If they are to live together happily, she must be kind, Hazel reminded herself.

  “Lady Hazel, I introduce to you the loyal staff of Bainbridge Hall.” She addressed the staff. “I present our new Countess, Lady Hazel.” Mrs. Danford proceeded to parade Hazel down the line as Quinn named each of the staff. Hazel smiled and thanked each one. At the end of the procession, she took her hand back from Mrs. Danford and went back to Garrett’s side. He wore the same bland smile.

  “Shall we go to dinner now?” he asked as the staff departed.

  “Yes, please,” Hazel urged. “She couldn’t put a finger on the reason, but her skin crawled with unease.

  Garrett escorted them both in and to their chairs. He sat at the head, Hazel on his left, Mrs. Danford on his right. A large stretch of the table sat empty.

  “Do you not dine informally when not entertaining?” Hazel asked.

  “As you know, I normally dine in my room,” Garrett answered.

  “I always dine in a formal setting unless taken ill. It is the civilized thing to do.” Mrs. Danford spoke as she gestured for the footman to pour them wine. Hazel frowned as she looked down at the long empty table. It was a waste and unnecessary burden to keep a formal set up for family dining. At home—no, this was her home now, she chastised herself.

  Growing up with her parents and sister, they often dined in a family parlor with a small table for four. It was easier for the staff, and it made them feel closer. They often talked and laughed more than they ate.

  Hazel bit her tongue and took a sip of her wine. The first course was set before her.

  “I am still surprised to see you dine with us, Bain.” Mrs. Danford began.

  “Why wouldn’t I, Aunt? This is Hazel’s first night in a new home.”

  Mrs. Danford set her fork down sharply. “And will you address her so informally?”

  Hazel paused. Garrett frowned at his aunt.

  “I can’t use my wife’s given name in my own home?”

  “Not outside of intimate occasions, no.”

  Hazel felt a roll of unease in her stomach. She fervently prayed this conversation would change to the opposite of intimate occasions.

  “How many sheep does the estate have?” she asked abruptly.

  Garrett turned to her with what looked like relief. “Ninety-eight at the moment. Why do you ask?”

  “Just curious. Does being shorn hurt?”

  “No more than trimming one’s own hair I suppose though their dignity may suffer.”

  Hazel chuckled at the quip, as did Garrett.

  Mrs. Danford rigidly sat and tended to her meal in silence. Hazel took a bite of her fish and chewed rapturously. “Your chef is excellent,” she complemented.”

  “My father met him many years ago while traveling in France. They took up an odd friendship of sorts—”

  “Your father was not friends with a cook,” Mrs. Danford said vehemently.

  Garrett only spared her a glance before continuing. “He convinced him to abandon his employer and come to England.”

  “Who was the previous employer?”

  “The Count of Tijerina”

  “Interesting.”

  “Bain, do you plan to attend every dinner with us?”

  Hazel and Garrett both turned to Mrs. Danford.

  “Do you wish me not to?” he said incredulously.

  “Of course not. I relish every moment of your attention, but I don’t see why habits must change. It is for the benefit of the estate that you tend to your work. Lady Hazel and I can rub along just fine without you.”

  No, we can’t. Hazel wanted to growl. “I would certainly be happy to always dine with you.”

  “As a mistress of the house, one’s own desires must be put after the needs of the house.”

  Hazel blinked. “Dining together isn’t going to compromise the wellbeing of the house.”

  “We all have our duties to attend to. You will learn
that quickly.” Mrs. Danford muttered.

  Hazel looked to Garrett. He was watching his aunt with a frown, but then it evaporated as he turned to Hazel. “We’ll all find our places as we settle into the new way of things. Change can be uncomfortable.”

  Hazel nodded. She agreed wholeheartedly, but she was unnerved by Mrs. Danford. She did not wish to dine alone with her ever. Her sanity would not stand for it. “We will find a way.” She smiled back at him. He smiled warmly at her and gave his attention to his food. Hazel did the same, but she felt her instincts poking at her and looked up. For a brief second, she would have sworn Mrs. Danford had been glaring at her, but the woman was now engrossed with buttering a roll.

  The dinner stayed mostly silent for its remainder, and then they retired to the drawing room. Garrett was again pestered about his presence when there was work to do, and this time, he did admit he had some correspondence to finish and didn’t want to be up late. Hazel wanted to follow him from the room. Mrs. Danford had made idle talk for an hour before Hazel gave in to the urge to flee. She claimed a headache and retired to her room.

  Chapter 6

  Hazel rang for Mary and waited. Mrs. Danford had her on edge all evening, but now that she was away, she could feel her nerves unwinding. Mary knocked softly and entered.

  “Would you like a bath?”

  “No, just help me prepare for bed.”

  “No husband to help you tonight?” Mary teased.

  “Hush, Mary. He had work to do. We all have our duties, as Mrs. Danford reminded me this evening.”

  “Duties? To my mind, her duty is done. She raised him and saw him married. Now she needs to go home.”

  “Oh, how I wish.” Hazel sighed. “I don’t believe she has a home to go to.”

  “That’s a shame. Tell His Lordship to buy her one. A little cottage all her own will do her good.”

  “What do they say downstairs?”

  “Nothing. It’s as quiet as a tomb when Emily is present.”

  “And when she’s not?”

  “I swore I heard a mouse fart.”

  “Mary!” Hazel scolded half-heartedly.

  “I tell you. It’s as if no one wants to befriend me. They are afraid of something.”

  Hazel held still while Mary braided her hair. “Afraid?”

  “Afraid,” Mary affirmed. “If only the walls could talk.”

  “No one has tried to be friends?”

  “Well, there is one footman. He has a smile like the dawning sun. He does try to strike up a conversation with me, but Mrs. Beasley is always hushing and shooing us about.”

  “What about at dinner? Did you sit at the table silently?” Hazel couldn’t believe it. She knew her father’s staff growing up always had lively debates while eating together and played card games in the evening after the work was done.

  “No, I was asked to pass the salt.”

  “How odd.”

  “How boring.”

  A knock interrupted them. Hazel giddily hoped it was Garrett.

  It was not.

  “If my mistress has a headache, rest assured I will tend to it,” Mary said. She closed the door.

  “Who was that?”

  “Miss High-in-the-instep-Emily.”

  “She came to tend my headache?”

  “Do you have a headache?” Mary asked.

  “No, but that is what I told Mrs. Danford to get away this evening.”

  Mary shook her head. “The nerve. She was checking up on you.”

  “You don’t really think that, do you?” Hazel was baffled.

  “I don’t want to, but I do.” Mary nodded. “Conniving. That’s how I would describe those two.”

  “This is getting out of hand.” Hazel stood and wrapped her dressing gown around her. “We need to find a way to like each other if we are to live together. Tomorrow I’m going to make the effort to befriend Mrs. Danford. There is no reason for us to be enemies.”

  “That is true. Is there anything else you need?” Mary said as she picked up Hazels gown and put it away.

  “No, find your bed. I hope you will make friends as well.”

  “Perhaps.” Mary shrugged.

  “We have to try, Mary. We live here now.”

  Mary paused at the door and smiled. “I will do my best, ma’am.”

  Hazel climbed into her bed and waited. It wasn’t long before she heard the rumble of men’s voices next door. She tiptoed to the door that separated their rooms and listened. She could easily hear Garrett and his valet. Garrett was telling him about a horse he might purchase. Hazel was tempted to join them. She decided not to and, instead, waited until the valet left.

  Garrett joined her immediately after, and she was so glad to see him and to finally be alone with him. They had been together most of the day, but after that awkward dinner, all she wanted to do was have that time back again, just the two of them.

  “How are you doing?” he asked as he led her back to his room.

  Hazel swallowed the urge to tell him all her thoughts. She didn’t want to put him at odds with his aunt. “I’m fine. A bit tired.”

  “That’s understandable. Perhaps we should have taken a holiday. Get away from the routine for a bit.”

  “Perhaps, but it sounds as though you have much to do here.”

  “That is true. It is never ending. If I leave, it piles up, and I have more to do when I return than I usually do.”

  “Do you have a secretary?” Hazel knew her father used a trusted secretary to help with estate matters.

  “I do, but as my aunt would say, no one cares more about Bainbridge Hall than its lord.”

  Hazel mulled this over. “Does that mean you won’t be joining us in the dining room anymore?

  “Do you want me to?”

  “Yes,” Hazel said heartily as Garrett pulled her close and put his arms around her waist.

  “Then I shall make it a regular occurrence.”

  Hazel lifted her lips for a kiss. She was done talking and thinking for the evening.

  “Are you sure you’re not too sore? I can wait if—”

  “I can’t.” Hazel breathed against his lips. She was tender, she noticed that during her bath, but she had a feeling these moments were the only times they would truly be alone.

  His mouth came down on hers slowly. She hungrily opened her mouth, encouraging him to take it as the offering it was. She wanted to be as close to him as humanly possible, nothing but skin to separate them.

  Her clothing was a bane, thin silk though it was. It teased her with the warmth and hardness of his body. She hurriedly pulled off her robe, yanking at the bow of her nightgown until she could wiggle her shoulders through the neck and down her body. Next, she yanked open his robe and appeasing her immediate need for contact, she burrowed inside his large robe, pressing her body to his, glorying in the knowledge that he was already hard and ready.

  When had she become so wanton? Oh, yes. In the hours she’d already spent cocooned with him in their bed, luxuriously naked, heated by the warmth of his body, limbs sated with pleasure. It had been a revelation. Her body was an oasis for him, and his hers. Together, they had fed on desire and passion until they could do nothing but lie there, tangled in each other, and then sleep.

  She wanted it all again.

  He pulled his lips away, stooping to swing her into his arms and placing a burning kiss on her throat. He carried her to the bed and set her down, climbing in to join her and pulling the coverlet up to their waists.

  Hazel met him with open arms. She loved pressing her breasts against his chest, and already she felt the wetness between her thighs, the sign that her body was eagerly awaiting him. Who knew such things? She hadn’t until now, but it felt like she was meant for him, meant for this.

  Garrett pushed her back, cradling himself between her thighs. The head of his erection rubbed against the damp folds of her sex. He kissed his way to her breasts, a pair so beautiful they belonged on canvas for the entire world to adm
ire, but instead, they belonged to him, and he would selfishly worship them. He rested on one elbow and used his free hand to cup and molding the weight of one breast, teasing the dusky nipple into a bud, watching the delicate skin pebble in shyness. He took it into his mouth, adoring it with his tongue.

  Hazel sighed in heavenly bliss. She loved the attention he gave her breasts. Until now, they had been useless adornments on her body, a symbol of her womanhood, but otherwise superfluous. She knew men appreciated the sight of them, and most of her dresses were cut to accentuate them, but she had never known about this. She could spend all day doing this. The shooting tingles and sting set fire to her blood, making her body yearn for his, yearn for completion. She squirmed against him, urging him without words to join them like before.

  Chapter 7

  Hazel questioned her very sanity as she descended the stairs and entered the dining room. Garrett had left after first light to see to work on a leaky dam that threatened a nearby village. He promised to be home in the afternoon and that he would dine with them again. She should have requested breakfast in her room, made up some strange ritual about not rising before noon, but that would not change the odd tension that had somehow developed between herself and Mrs. Danford. It needed to be put to rest.

  She entered the room, the smell of hot tea, toast, and sausage filling the air.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Danford,” Hazel said brightly as she took a plate from the sideboard. Filling it, she took her seat across from Mrs. Danford.

  “Good morning, Lady Hazel. I trust you slept well?”

  This was a good start, in Hazels mind. “I did, and you?”

  “I did.”

  “Excellent. Have you any plans today?”

  Mrs. Danford looked away from the paper with interest. “As a matter of fact we do!”

  Hazel paused as she was stirring a lump of sugar into her tea. “We?”

  “Yes, I thought to show you about the house. Has Bain already done so?”

  Relief flooded her. “No, we rested most of yesterday. A tour would be lovely.”

  “Good. We can begin after breakfast.”

  Hazel nodded and started on her mound of eggs.