Not Always a Saint

by Mary Jo Putney

  Jessie considered that, grateful for the distraction. “That’s easy, actually. Her first husband died when she was nearing her time. Distraught, she gave birth early and almost died of childbed fever. By the time she recovered, her child was gone and her mother-in-law sadly told her the baby died because the treacherous woman wanted the baby for herself. So Jane went away, widowed and thinking herself childless, and eventually found work with Mrs. Lester the elder, and George knows the rest of the story.”

  Daniel blinked. “You’re very good at this.”

  Her mouth twisted. “Lying, you mean? I learned at my father’s knee. I was so afraid of him that I always evaded the truth because I didn’t know what would make him explode into rage. Truth was too fragile and precious to risk. With Philip, I learned to trust that I could speak the truth and not risk being struck, and now I prefer honesty whenever possible. But the instinct to prevaricate for safety’s sake is still there.”

  “My dear girl!” he said softly. “You’ve had to endure even more than I realized.”

  The understanding in his eyes was both moving and unnerving. No one had ever understood so well, even Philip, who had been too gentle a soul to understand darkness.

  She dropped her gaze and peeled off her gloves as she collected herself. This was her wedding day, and it wasn’t fair to Daniel to moan about her past. “My luck has improved greatly. Thank you for marrying me, Daniel.”

  “And my thanks to you for marrying me.” His smile came from deep inside. “Finally we can be together in complete respectability.”

  She studied her new husband. He was all lean strength and mastery, and his calm had kept the meeting with her mother from being a full-on disaster.

  Tonight they would share a bed. The thought was intoxicating, but surprisingly intimidating. Thinking she should admit that, she said, “I’m looking forward to finally sharing a bed, but it might be simpler if I were a nervous seventeen-year-old virgin. Then I’d have an excuse if I fail to please you on our wedding night.”

  “Jessie.” His gaze was steady. “Neither Rome nor a marriage is built in a day. It will take time to learn how to best please each other, but there is undeniable attraction, and we’re both sensible adults. We’ll manage.”

  Their gazes locked, and the rest of the world fell away. As of today, Daniel was officially the most important man in her life. And no matter how many private doubts they might have individually, as a couple they were connected by potent mutual desire.

  The atmosphere in the coach intensified as they regarded each other. Still holding his gaze, she lifted her hand and drew the curtains across the window on her side of the vehicle. He did the same on his side, darkening the coach to twilight mystery. With his strong features, he looked mythic, like a Greek god.

  She hoped he’d kiss her, but instead he carefully unpinned her floral headdress. “When I first saw you, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.” He freed the circlet of flowers from the veil that fell almost to her heels and laid it on the opposite seat. “Now I know you’re the most beautiful woman in the world. Luminous and entrancing.”

  His words were ravishing, but she said uncertainly, “It’s good to be seen as beautiful, but I hope that’s not all, because beauty fades.”

  Daniel’s hands stilled and he studied her face for long moments before he replied. “You are lovely enough to stop men in the streets. I’ve seen it happen,” he said, choosing each word with care. “But I’ve met other beautiful women. The Duchess of Ashton is like a laughing angel descended to earth, yet she has never affected me as you do. You have strength and vulnerability and the wisdom that comes of hard experience. Without those things, you would be merely beautiful, as a great statue is beautiful. A woman to be admired and forgotten. You, Jezebel Elizabeth Braxton Trevane Kelham Herbert, are unforgettable.”

  She bit her lip, on the verge of tears. “I asked you for a flower of reassurance, and you’ve given me a great entrancing bouquet. Thank you, Daniel. I shall never forget your words.”

  His answering smile was bashful. “That’s good, because I’m not so sure I can be as eloquent again. But when better than on our wedding day?” He returned to her hair, removing pins with delicate precision.

  He had deft, powerful surgeon’s hands, she thought distractedly as he freed her hair from its formal style. Each pin released a heavy coil of dark hair to fall around her shoulders, increasing the sense of intimacy between them.

  “I’ve wanted to see your hair down since we met. It’s like wild silk,” he murmured as he stroked a handful of locks smoothly over her breast. Even through layers of fabric and corseting, that light touch caused her nipple to tighten.

  After he removed the last pin, he began lightly massaging her scalp with his fingertips. She wanted to purr like a cat. “That feels wonderful. I didn’t know that my head was capable of such enjoyment.”

  “Most parts of a body enjoy being touched, and we have a whole week to discover each other’s favorite places. Lessons in applied anatomy.” He demonstrated by tracing the curve of her ear with his fingertip. The sensation was so delicious, her toes curled.

  “How splendidly academic that sounds,” she said breathily. “I’ve always enjoyed learning new things.”

  She leaned into him, stroking under his coat along the length of his solid, powerful torso. Her breath was quickening and she shifted restlessly in her seat. “How long is the drive to Milton Manor?”

  “A bit over an hour, I’m told. Sadly, we’re less than halfway.” He bent his head and licked the sensitive junction between her throat and shoulder.

  Hot desire shot straight to her loins. “Time enough for some serious kissing.” She lifted her face and found his lips with her own. She craved a kiss, and instead triggered a firestorm.

  “Jessie.” Daniel responded to her with swift, open-mouthed carnality. “Dear God, Jessie!”

  Until now, he’d been gentle in his touch and explorations, but no longer. As his control splintered, she recognized that this fierce desire had always been part of him, a powerful current that thrummed beneath his calm surface. She’d always sensed that intensity; it had been part of his appeal. Now he was flame to her tinder, and she shattered into fire.

  As one arm held her close, his other hand caressed down her body, kneading and bringing every fiber to heated life. From shoulder to breast, skimming over her ribs, rounding her hip, stroking down her leg to her knee. He tugged up her hem and his warm palm sleeked upward over her silk stocking to her sensitive inner thigh.

  She gave a gasp that turned into a choked cry when his exploring fingers first touched her moist, secret folds. The sensations were almost unbearably arousing, and her legs separated to allow him to probe deeper, ever deeper.

  She clawed at his back with frantic force. She wanted to meld with him, bury herself in him. Wanted him to bury himself in her. Her right hand moved down to the fierce erection straining to free itself from his formal clothing.

  She squeezed and he groaned, the deep sound dissolving her remaining shreds of restraint. Too impatient to unfasten the fall on his trousers, she yanked at the fabric. Threads tore and buttons popped off to rattle across the floor of the coach.

  Her eager hand closed over the silken power of heated male flesh. He jerked under her hand and groaned again as if desperate for breath.

  Urgent, mindless, she raised herself from the seat and swung her right leg over him, catching his shoulders for balance as she straddled his lap. Then she lowered herself, using one hand to guide them together. They joined in one smooth movement. Lock and key, male and female, perfectly mated.

  She whimpered with sensual need as he throbbed inside her. Daniel gasped and crushed her hard against him as he rammed his hips upward. She shuddered out of control, driving against him over and over as she found release. He surged into her one final time, then went still, his breathing ragged.

  They were locked so closely together that she couldn’t tell his
hammering pulse from her own. She felt flayed, so intensely alive and sensitive that she could scarcely bear it.

  Her cheek rested against his and she felt his struggle for breath, the movement of his jaw when he murmured ruefully, “I’d planned on waiting for a bed.”

  Her catch of laughter helped bring her back to awareness. They were in a coach, their marriage consummated rather sooner than they’d intended. “As least we’re legal now. Man and wife, wedded if not precisely bedded.”

  His embrace eased. “I trust there’s a bed waiting at the end of this coach ride. We must be almost at Milton Manor.”

  “I suppose.” She exhaled with boneless contentment as she settled into his embrace. “You said it would take time to learn to please each other, but it didn’t take any time at all.”

  “Do I please you, Jessie?”

  To her surprise, there was a note of uncertainty in his voice. Perhaps he was inexperienced with mating in carriages. Well, so was she, but based on what had just happened, she was ready to make it a permanent part of their love life. “Indeed, you did. I might never move again. It’s been so long. . . .” She hummed with contentment.

  “So long?” he asked.

  Some intimacies were too personal to share, but she saw no harm in explaining this. “Philip was almost fifty years older than I. It was a great scandal in some circles when we wed. But we truly cared for each other, and for him, it was a second springtime. He’d had a long and happy marriage, and he knew how to please a wife. There was such sweetness between us.”

  “A blessing for you both, and one that produced Beth,” Daniel said softly.

  “The greatest blessing of my life.” She sighed a little. “But he was so much older. The sweetness never faded, but the springtime did.”

  “A lovely thing about the seasons is that they come round again and again.” His hand stroked down her back. “And all seasons are beautiful in their own way.”

  She smiled to herself as her eyes drifted shut. Soon she’d have to move and they’d have to straighten their clothing and try to look less wanton.

  Then they could settle down in Milton Manor for a week, and celebrate a new season of their lives.

  Chapter 22

  Milton Manor was a serenely proportioned Palladian-style building, and the closer the carriage drew along the tree-lined drive, the more Jessie admired the structure. “What a beautiful house!” she said as their carriage halted under the porte cochere. “The gardens look lovely as well. I’m surprised the Kirklands don’t live here full-time.”

  “Kirkland often needs to be in London, but they both like the peace and quiet of the country. Because his principal estate is in Scotland, he bought this place as a convenient retreat,” Daniel explained as he helped her from the carriage. “I’ve not visited, but my sister says it’s a jewel box with all modern conveniences added.”

  Jessie took his arm as they ascended the steps. “Perfect for a honeymoon. I’m very ready to relax.”

  Daniel gave her a private smile, and she knew that he was thinking of that bed they’d finally get to share. Which might not be relaxing, but it would certainly be invigorating.

  They were admitted by a young but properly dignified butler who bowed them into the house. The two-story foyer was decorated in restful shades of cream and light blue, and a magnificent staircase swept up to the floor above.

  “Lord Romayne. Lady Romayne. Welcome to Milton Manor. I’m Martin.” He didn’t react to their rather disheveled appearances by so much as an eye blink. “The staff and I will be happy to provide whatever you require.”

  “A bath,” Jessie said promptly.

  “I’d like one also,” Daniel said. “And a light supper after. The food at the wedding breakfast was first-rate, but I ate almost nothing. I was too busy talking to all the guests.”

  “So was I.” Jessie chuckled. “We should have asked the Ashton House butler to pack a hamper for us.”

  Martin managed to look disapproving without moving a muscle. “I’m sure you’ll find the cuisine of Milton Manor acceptable.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” Daniel said peaceably. “I’m sure the wine cellar is extraordinary as well.”

  Mollified, Martin said, “Lord Kirkland has excellent taste in wine and spirits. Let me escort you to your rooms now so you can refresh yourselves.”

  “I hope I don’t fall asleep in the bath,” Jessie said as they climbed the grand staircase. “It’s been a tiring day.”

  “And it’s not over yet,” Daniel murmured provocatively.

  Their rooms were as splendid as the rest of the house, with bright bouquets of autumn flowers. In the spacious sitting room, Martin said, “Lady Romayne, your dressing room is to the right. Lord Romayne, yours is to the left. There is a hip bath in each, and hot water will be brought up directly. Ring if you need anything more.” With another bow, he was gone.

  Jessie peered into her dressing room. “All my luggage has magically appeared here, and what a splendid large hip bath! There’s a fire burning in the fireplace to warm the room. Clearly they were ready for us.”

  “The staff probably gets bored since the Kirklands aren’t here full-time, so they welcome the opportunity to be busy.” Daniel looked into his dressing room. “Another large hip bath and fire. A drinks table as well. Do you have one?”

  Jessie took a second look. “Yes, there’s a table with bottles and glasses. I’ve never been so pampered in my life!”

  Daniel laughed. “Laurel apologized for the fact that they haven’t yet installed built-in bathing tubs, but this seems quite fine to me. She and I often ate in the kitchen in Bristol. Since most of our servants were training to go into service, the results were sometimes erratic. Milton Manor obviously is up to Kirkland’s standards.”

  “I can’t wait to see the bedroom.” Jessie crossed the sitting room and threw open the double doors to reveal the adjoining bedroom. “Good heavens! That is the largest bed I’ve ever seen,” she said, awed by the massive four-poster. The canopy and counterpane were richly woven in gold and burgundy brocade. Fit for royalty.

  Daniel came up behind her. “Impressive.” He ran a warm hand down her arm. “Should we try it out?”

  She laughed and looked up over her shoulder. “Tempting, but I do want that bath and supper!”

  He patted her bottom appreciatively. “Until later, then.”

  By the time Jessie returned to her dressing room, servants were filling the tub, having entered by a door leading into the corridor. A cheerful young maid bobbed a curtsy. “I’m Elsa, my lady, and I’ll be looking after you during your stay. What scent would you like added to your bath water?” She gestured at a collection of small bottles.

  Naturally Jessie had to take a sniff of each. The scents were marvelous. She wondered if they’d been blended by Lady Kiri Mackenzie, the wife of another Westerfield old boy, and a talented perfumer. With difficulty, Jessie settled on a fragrance based on roses, though other subtle scents were present as well.

  As Elsa unlaced her gown, the girl said, “A gift was sent to await your arrival. I took the liberty of brushing it out and hanging it in the wardrobe. There was a note included.” She handed Jessie a folded piece of paper whose wax seal bore the Ashton coat of arms.

  Jessie broke the seal and read the note.

  Dear Jessie,

  Though you said that you would continue to wear half mourning in public, Julia and I thought you might like to have something deliciously decadent to wear for Daniel. We hope you both enjoy it!

  —Mariah

  When she glanced up, Elsa ceremoniously opened the door of the large wardrobe. Hanging inside was a sumptuous scarlet satin gown. A richly patterned scarlet and black shawl hung beside it, and neat kidskin slippers with scarlet embroidery were set below.

  “Oh, my!” Jessie gasped as she stepped forward for a closer look. The gown was designed for the boudoir, with full skirts and a built-in train. The bodice laced up the front so a woman could put it on withou
t assistance—and a man could take it off with equal ease. A discreet drawstring around the neckline made it possible to adjust the amount of décolletage from prim to falling off the shoulders.

  “Is this a new fashion in London?” Elsa asked in a hushed voice. “I’ve never seen a gown like it!”

  “Nor have I. It’s designed for seduction, not public display.” Jessie stroked the heavy satin, which rippled sensuously under her palm. “I’m not sure I dare wear it!”

  “That red will look splendid with your dark hair, my lady.” Elsa smiled mischievously. “And what new husband wouldn’t like to see his bride in this?”

  Elsa was right. The marriage had already been consummated in the carriage, so why not wear something magnificently wicked for the actual wedding night? “I’ll wear it to dinner, then.”

  Elsa nodded approval and poured the rose bath oil into the hip bath. Jessie took off her cotton robe and sank into the fragrant bath water with a glass of sherry in hand. She felt marvelously decadent. If her father could see her now, he’d die of a heart spasm.

  She grimaced into her sherry. Her mother’s shocking visit had made her think of her father, and she didn’t want to think of either of them. Tonight was for Daniel and her and no one else.

  Daniel. She closed her eyes and leaned against the back of the hip bath and remembered their mad, magnificent coupling in the carriage. What had she been thinking? She laughed softly to herself. It was obvious what she’d been thinking.

  Tonight they could take all the time they wanted, then sleep in each other’s arms and wake to do it again. No wonder a wedding trip was known as the moon of honey.

  Rosy from her bath and with her hair swooped up in an elegant mass that would tumble easily around her shoulders, Jessie donned her amazing new gown. The laces were black silk cords with oval pearls fastened on the ends. She tightened the lacing enough to give her an hourglass figure, which was easy since the billowing skirt and flowing bodice lent themselves to that shape. But she didn’t tighten the cords so much as to interfere with her eating. It had been a long day, and she was hungry and not in the mood to nibble daintily. Except, perhaps, on Daniel.