by Heather Boyd
With Gillian, he did things he’d only dreamed about before. He’d loved his wife but had never felt so hungry for more of a woman’s kisses as he did with Gillian.
He was quite simply besotted by what they had shared so far. This felt right. Gillian indulged all his desires in private but in public he saw no outward sign that anything had changed between them. He was both pleased with that, and occasionally annoyed. “I am desirous of your company, conversation, and your body. Can I not have all three at once?”
The day she’d fallen through the ice had altered his plans for the future. Since that terrible day, Gillian’s happiness and safety were always at the forefront of his mind. Having almost lost her so suddenly after finally finding her had brought home to him what was missing in his life.
He wanted a lover, a companion and a friend.
Gillian had become all of that for him and more.
She tossed her head from side to side. “So very hard to talk when you’re kissing me.”
He pressed his hips against hers firmly and her breath caught as she felt his erection against her sex. “That’s why I was neglecting these sweet lips of yours, so I could hear you tell me of the hours we spent apart.”
He’d long given up his self-delusion that these nightly meetings with Gillian had anything at all to do with his youngest daughter, if they ever had. If there was a problem with Jessica, he was confident Gillian would approach him at any time of the day. These nights had more to do with getting to know Gillian, and now he knew her very well indeed. He kissed her now as he’d longed to do all day when he’d been on his best behavior so as not to reveal their affair to all and sundry. The nights were theirs, just a short span of time he claimed to please them both until they were gasping and spent and had to part for propriety’s sake.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t be satisfied with their arrangement much longer. He longed to take her to his bed and spend the night worshipping her sweet body. To wake her, drowsy and warm from their lovemaking, and do it all again. And again, until dawn.
He had seen so little of her skin and was becoming desperate for a glimpse of the whole woman he bedded. But to do that required him to sneak into her bedchamber again or steal her away into his. Both situations could be disastrous for her reputation if they were caught together, and with his daughters and so many guests underfoot, it seemed impossible.
He couldn’t bear for Gillian to suffer harmful gossip, so it seemed to him that he had but one recourse left. He swept Gillian into his arms, hugged her to his chest tightly a moment, and then carried her across the room to the desk.
But his mind was already fixed on the more serious and permanent solution of how to have Gillian where and when he liked.
The idea of keeping Gillian appealed tremendously. She had already become a fixed and natural part of his life. Jessica loved her in the place of a mother, and he, now they were alone so often and intimate, was growing more and more attached to her every day. He did not want to lose her when Jessica outgrew the need for a companion.
Nicolas needed Gillian for himself and himself alone.
He eased her down onto his desk and slowly hitched her skirts to her knees, then widened her legs to stand between them. “Sweet Gillian, how you honor me again. You are so delightful.”
She lowered her eyes demurely as she reached for the buttons on his trousers.
He stilled her fingers. “Don’t be shy. Look at me.”
Her eyes flashed open and lust swum in their depths. “I’m no longer shy around you. I can barely control my hands in my eagerness to touch.”
He grinned, having had the same problem many times during the interminably long daylight hours. “I’m going to need many more sweet kisses and wicked touches tonight if I’m to survive another tomorrow.”
“I see.” She brushed her knuckles across his hard cock still confined in his trousers and grinned. “Like that?”
“I want everything and anything you grant me.” He touched her face, noting it was as hot as her blush suggested. She had been a wife once, but had she even lusted after her husband like this? He’d been afraid to ask before tonight. Worried how he might fare in any comparison. Nicolas was certain he’d never experienced desire like this himself. He knew what that meant. He couldn’t part with Gillian.
He would offer for her.
He should have considered marriage from the very first kiss they had shared.
Once married, he would never have to curb his desires again. He could not seem to stay away from her anyway, and so marriage seemed the natural path to take. This quiet desire of hers drew him in as if she shouted his name. He wanted to give her the right to do that without anyone disapproving.
He traced her jaw with his fingertip. “So lovely.”
“So are you.” Her face turned red. “Handsome, I mean.”
“I’m pleased you think so.” He kissed her brow softly, and then peppered kisses to her sweet lips. “I must admit you make me feel young again.”
“I’ve never thought of you as old.” Gillian toyed with the buttons on his waistcoat and then reached up to trace the bump on his nose. “At what age did you break this?”
“Seventeen.” Seventeen and utterly controlled by lust in those days. He smiled. “I was found in a compromising position with my late wife before we married, and her brother took a swing at my head before he recognized who I was. After that, he was entirely affable and made sure the contracts for marriage were drawn up that very day.”
“That’s so young to get married,” she said, eyes wide.
A lifetime ago, it felt now. He’d changed, grown steadier and quite possibly a bit fustian at times. He was happy now though—happy to have discovered such peace and excitement with Gillian in his life. “My late wife was older and seduced me,” he confessed, lest she think he was entirely to blame and a scoundrel.
Gillian spluttered. “Surely not.”
“Well, this is the country,” he grinned, and stole another kiss, enjoying telling her his secrets. “On balance, young men do tend to lose their virtue at a much younger age than women. All those haystacks and fresh air. I was already an earl and my wife wished to be a countess, so marriage suited us both. We had a good marriage, as you might have guessed from the number of children we had together. I’ve done my best to shield my daughters from similar situations that forced my marriage. I’d much rather Jessica not have the decision taken away from her because of curiosity.”
A frown creased Gillian’s brow. “She’s not ready for marriage.”
“I agree, but she must marry one day.” He was pleased Gillian spoke from the heart about Jessica. She’d been dropping hints enough for the past month for even him to notice her concern was genuine, and not out of fear of losing her livelihood. It was important to him that Gillian speak her mind rather than always agreeing with him, but for the moment he was much more interested in uncovering Gillian’s mysterious past. “How old were you when you married?”
“Twenty,” she whispered and said no more.
“Did you love him very much?”
Gillian shook her head quickly, and Nicolas was relieved beyond words that it was so. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and teased her ear with his breath. If she’d never loved her late husband, it meant that all the space in her heart for love might be available to him in the future. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thorpe wanted a young wife, and I thought marrying him was a sensible decision for a woman in my situation. I had only a small dowry and he was well enough to do that I thought I would never lack for the little comforts I might need in my life. Love had nothing to do with my decision to accept him.”
Gillian had been widowed at four and twenty years. She’d mentioned the age once and he’d committed it to his memory. Four years after that she was a servant to his family. He suspected Wallace Thorpe hadn’t left her much to live on to make her take such drastic measures. “And when he died. What did you think then?”
“I g
rew angry.” She met his gaze, and the look made his heart squeeze tight. “He left me with nothing to live on in his will, made no arrangements with his heir to ensure I had a roof over my head, which is why I took employment as a companion.”
Nicolas made a vow. She would work no more. He would make her his duchess, a lady of leisure with all the comforts he could shower upon her. He held her tight a moment, making plans to see his London solicitor as soon as he returned to the capital. He would ensure the marriage contract provided her with everything she might need for a comfortable life upon his eventual death, too.
A brisk knock sounded on the door, scaring him out of his wits.
They’d never before been interrupted, and he stood stunned for a moment too long. The door rattled, but since it was locked, no one could come in.
“Father, the door is stuck again,” Rebecca complained in a shockingly loud voice.
Thank goodness for the lock. His eldest daughter should have been abed at this late hour.
Gillian bounced out of his arms and hurried to straighten her clothes. She flew around the desk soundlessly, took her usual seat and folded her hands elegantly in her lap.
“Just a moment.” Nicolas smoothed his hair, his waistcoat.
He could see Gillian’s chest rising and falling in panic, but she somehow kept her expression serene. If anyone glanced her way, they’d never suspect she’d been in his arms and aroused a few minutes ago. He admired her composure. For himself, he wasn’t so calm or at all pleased by the interruption. At least when they married, he’d not have the worry of potential scandal over their heads anymore.
The door rattled again.
“Just a moment,” he instructed again, casting a conspiratorial smile at Gillian. He caressed her cheek as he passed her chair, wishing he could just ignore the interruption and return to his conversation with Gillian. There was so much about her he wanted to know. “Let me see what I can do about it from this side,” he called to his daughter.
He crossed the room, made a show of jiggling the handle in a bid to conceal the turning of the key. Since he’d used this trick before on his daughters and had never been caught out, he was certain she’d be deceived yet again.
The door sprung open when he finally turned the handle properly.
“You really need to have a servant attend to that door,” Rebecca complained as she burst into his study uninvited.
“When this house party nonsense is done, I will,” he promised.
Rebecca paused when she saw Gillian seated before the desk, a sour expression forming. Rebecca glanced between them, suspicion turning her eyes into hard slits. “I hadn’t realized I was interrupting.”
Gillian stood and curtsied to his daughter but said nothing.
Nicolas was well aware that Rebecca’s distrust of pretty women stemmed from having discovered her own husband in bed with their housekeeper once before his death, so he stepped between them. He gestured Gillian back down into her chair.
“You are interrupting.” Nicolas ignored Rebecca’s shocked expression and returned to his side of the desk. “How can I help you?”
“I’d rather speak to you alone,” she said.
“Can it not wait until morning?” he asked.
“No, Father.”
He didn’t want to send Gillian away, but suspected Rebecca wouldn’t speak of whatever nonsense was on her mind until she was gone. The sooner they had this conversation, the sooner it would be over.
He might have to forgo the comfort of his lover for one night most likely too, but it couldn’t be helped. He grabbed a book at random from his bookcase. “Very well. Mrs. Thorpe, would you please peruse this volume and if you deem it suitable, please share it with my daughter when you can.”
She stood quickly and stretched for the book. “Of course, your grace. Was there anything else?”
He dropped it lightly in her hand, wishing he could say more to ease any sting his dismissal might inflict. “Return it to this room when you’re done,” he said, then gestured her to the door gently, hating that he must keep up the act of master and servant a little longer.
As she moved away, Nicolas noted one of the buttons of her gown had come undone at the back. Most likely he’d done it himself when he’d been teasing her. Fearing his daughter’s sharp eyes, he followed Gillian to the door, putting his body between his lover and his child.
“Goodnight, your grace. Mrs. Warner.” Gillian departed and he breathed a sigh of quiet relief. That had been much too close for comfort.
He hadn’t even turned around before Rebecca began. “Now, we need to discuss my sister. Jessica cannot continue rusticating in the countryside.”
Nicolas sat behind his desk again and leaned back to observe his daughter. Since her husband’s passing, this daughter had become the most frustrating and opinionated creature on the earth. “I suppose you have some plan for what I should do about that?”
“Yes. She needs to mingle with people of her own class. She needs to be in London as soon as possible. I propose taking her with me when I leave.”
Nicolas skewered her with a sharp stare. “I will decide when and where Jessica goes, madam.”
“She must be with other women.” Rebecca leaned forward. “She has no idea how to command a room. I’ve warned you before that a companion cannot teach her everything she must know about how to conduct herself in society.”
That would also be impossible to learn if Jessica was in Rebecca’s shadow, too, but in his and Gillian’s line of sight she might be happier doing so.
Going to London together was actually a very good idea. He did now have business to attend to with his solicitor if he was to be a husband again. Nicolas also had friends there he was keen for Gillian to become acquainted with. He could show Gillian about Town, spoil his daughter at the same time, and participate in Jessica’s preparations for the coming season. There would be no battle over spending or choices that way. “I concede that some time in London before the season begins might be beneficial.”
His daughter sighed heavily. “After the party?”
“Yes, after the party, of course,” he agreed. He would need a little time to woo his future wife though. They’d never spoken about marriage, or a future, only ever discussing the next time they could be alone together.
After the party, after he’d proposed to Gillian, he’d discuss the idea of a longer London excursion for all of them, and see how she felt about marrying by special license there. A month-long wait for the banns to be read would feel interminable, now he’d made up his mind to marry.
“And while Jessica is busy, you must give serious thought to the future of the family,” Rebecca demanded.
He frowned at her remark. He already had a large enough supply of male heirs, three sons, four grandsons from two of them, to guarantee the succession. “Such as?”
“Finding a wife to look after the little things a little better around here,” Rebecca said, gazing at him with pity in her eyes. “Stapleton needs a mistress again. I know you loved mother, but even she would say it is long past time for you to select her replacement.”
Nicolas schooled his features as a grin tried to break free. He was well ahead of Rebecca’s plans for him. “I have already considered remarriage.”
His daughter smiled. “So you will bend your attention to courting a lady this season?”
He didn’t need the sort of lady Rebecca had in mind. Would he need to keep the news from his daughters until the last moment? Unfortunately, yes. This daughter would definitely disapprove of him marrying a lady who’d been working as a companion. Gillian was perfect for him—lusty, lovely and lively. Traits he needed very much in his life on a permanent basis. All he had to do was convince her to say yes.
He nodded. He’d start an official courtship tomorrow and marry before the season began if Gillian agreed.
He was certain Gillian loved Jessica, and he hoped she might love him too. Given what they’d already shared in this room, an
d hers, he believed she must already feel a strong affection for him. How many times had they made love now? Seven or eight, and the night of her accident, they’d made love twice in the short hours they’d been together.
He was going to marry Gillian as soon as the Christmas nonsense was over. He could barely wait till they were alone again. Just the three of them rambling about Stapleton and in London.
Having thought she’d won, Rebecca bid him good night and swept from the room smiling broadly, leaving Nicolas to plan his first ever courtship. He laughed softly at the novelty. He seemed to be going about this marriage business entirely backward, but how else could he have known his heart if he’d not taken a risk?
If not for that wretched mistletoe in his pocket, he’d never have come to know Gillian Thorpe.
He climbed the steps to his bedchamber, cast a longing glance toward Gillian’s distant doorway, but moved on to spend the night imagining how delightfully he and Gillian would enjoy the long hours of their wedding night.
And the hundreds of nights that would come after, when they would share a bed and love each other all night long.
If she might one day love him the way he hoped.
Chapter 10
“The duke has agreed and that is that,” Mrs. Warner informed the gathered ladies with a huge smile, utterly delighted with the devastating news she was sharing.
Gillian’s heart sank. She could hardly believe she’d misjudged Nicolas’ intentions so very badly. He knew Jessica wasn’t ready for marriage and still he would push her out of home to find a husband. “I cannot believe it.”
“The duke does as he pleases,” Mrs. Warner scowled her way, and then shrugged. “Men tire so easily of women’s concerns unless it suits their purpose, and Stapleton is no different.”
“Why isn’t he telling me this himself?” Jessica protested.
Mrs. Warner smiled at her sister. “Be happy, Jessica. He is at last being sensible. He has indulged you, but he must live his own life. He has admitted he longs for companionship and will marry. He will undoubtedly choose a young lady of quality with an impeccable pedigree this season. Knowing my father as well as I do, he will already have picked her out and is just waiting for the right moment to make the announcement. Which will be soon, of course.”