She rose and crossed to him, letting his fingers trail over her neck, her back, until her tension began to ease.
Yes. Something must be done about the earl’s new bride.
* * * *
“Becca?”
Becca stepped out of the dressing room to find Geoffrey sitting up in bed. She smiled sweetly at him. “Good morning, husband.”
Tension showed in the tight lines around his mouth. “I thought you’d left.”
She blinked. “Where would I go without you?”
He smiled, that odd tension gone. “Do you have a kiss for your husband?”
Becca crossed to him, thinking to kiss him lightly. He grabbed her and pulled her down on his lap. She ran her fingers through his hair, trying in vain to smooth the unruly waves.
“What has you up so early, Becca?”
“My husband is taking me on a picnic today.”
He pretended to ponder that statement. “Yes. I think I remember something about that.”
She clicked her tongue and stood. She crossed over to the vanity and sat, brushing her hair. He got out of bed and pulled on his breeches, coming to stand behind her.
Their gazes met in the mirror and Becca breathed in sharply at the intent in his. “Geoffrey, we should ….”
“Yes, we should,” he cut in, nuzzling her neck.
She closed her eyes and sighed before she recalled what it was she’d started to say. “We should get ready for breakfast.”
“Mmm,” he murmured. “I have what I want right here.”
“Mary will be here in a moment to help me dress,” she whispered, turning to him.
He lifted his head and stared at her for a moment. “All right, love.” With a sigh of resignation, he released her and stepped back. “I’ll meet you downstairs, then.”
She nodded and kissed him lightly. He turned and went into his dressing room, closing the door behind him.
Mary came in a short time after. She greeted her mistress warmly and asked what she was about this day.
“Lord Kanewood is taking me riding today, Mary. Is my new riding habit ready?”
“Yes, my lady. And what a picture you will make in it!”
Becca smiled with pleasure. She so wanted to look just right as this was the first time since their coming to Kanewood that she’d have Geoffrey to herself for the entire day. She fidgeted as Mary pinned her hair up on top of her head. While she was pleased with the style, she was uncertain it would suit the day.
“Mary, my hair is much too heavy to stay up when I go riding. Perhaps a braid?”
Mary nodded, once again freeing the thick curls. She fashioned a thick braid and coiled it securely at Becca’s crown. Becca nodded, comfortable with the familiar hairstyle.
Mary walked into Becca’s dressing room and emerged with the new riding habit. It was a deep burgundy and trimmed with black velvet cording. Becca stepped into the skirt, waiting as Mary fastened the hooks in the back. The skirt was topped by an adorable matching spencer, the jacket stopping at her waist. Becca regarded the outfit in the mirror.
Becca smiled at her. “Thank you. That was just what was called for.”
Becca took herself downstairs to the breakfast room. When she entered the room, Geoffrey was already seated.
He rose when she entered, crossing to her. “You look splendid,” he told her, kissing her behind her ear.
“Thank you, Geoffrey.”
He led her over to the sideboard to start their meal. Breakfast was very informal, with the diners arriving at different intervals and serving themselves. Becca chose a small amount of eggs along with some fresh rolls while Geoffrey piled his plate with eggs and ham. Becca cast him a sidelong glance.
“I fear I’ll need my strength today, love,” he said.
She blushed as her own blood warmed. They took their seats at the long table and began their meal.
Lady Margaret soon joined them. “Good morning, dears. And what are you two about this fine day?”
“I’m taking my lovely wife riding, Mother. We thought to picnic on the grounds.”
“That sounds like a lark,” John intoned from the doorway. “Perhaps Patricia and I will join you.”
Geoffrey turned to his brother. “I think not, John. I wish to have my wife all to myself today.”
Becca nodded. “Geoffrey cleared his day of work to take me riding.”
John turned to Becca and Geoffrey didn’t miss his slow perusal. Patricia joined them then. She filled her plate and sat next to Lady Margaret.
“Rebecca,” Patricia began, “that outfit is lovely. Is it new?”
“Thank you, yes. Lady Margaret chose the color.”
Patricia bristled at that. “Hmm. Lady Margaret must consider you a pet project, then. She doesn’t usually show such condescension.” When no one gave her comment attention, she turned her attention to Geoffrey. “Kane, you’re going riding today?”
“Yes.”
“I thought we could join them, Patricia, but my brother wouldn’t have it,” John stated in jest.
Patricia shot him a look that showed her pique, just as quickly covering it with cool composure. “We have correspondence to see to, John. I had hoped for your assistance.”
“Certainly, dove.” He kissed her hand. “Anything you need.”
Becca finished her meal and looked to Geoffrey, who laid his napkin on the table and stood. “Well, we’re off.” He gave his mother a kiss on the cheek.
“I trust you will be back for supper, Geoffrey,” Lady Margaret teased.
He winked at Becca. “We shall make every effort.”
The couple took their leave and set out for the stables.
* * * *
After Patricia and John finished their meal, they went into the library. John followed his wife into the room and closed the paneled doors leading from the hall. The room was large, with shelves stacked nearly to the ceiling with leather-bound volumes. It was a pleasant room, with large windows to let in the light and comfortable chairs arranged throughout. A writing desk sat at one end of the room, and it was here that Patricia settled herself.
John took one of the chairs facing the desk, stretching his long legs to prop his feet on the desk. “Now what is this about correspondence, my dove?”
Patricia sighed in irritation. “John, we must send notes to the people we saw in London.”
“But why now? I thought we were finished for the Season.”
“I didn’t like leaving when we did, John.” Patricia stood and paced slowly. “But if you hadn’t spent so much time at White’s—”
John sat up quickly. “I told you that was just a bit of bad luck, that’s all,” he insisted. “We didn’t have to leave town so soon.”
“Yes, we did. Your ‘friends’ at White’s were beginning to call for you at the Spencers’s.”
They had stayed at the home of some of Patricia’s friends in London. The couple regularly stayed in their own rented townhouse, but John hadn’t secured the rental of one this Season, thinking to use Geoffrey’s. But with Geoffrey coming and going on business these past few months, they couldn’t intrude. Patricia had been quite upset with the arrangement, having planned to use the earl’s large townhouse for entertaining.
John looked at her a bit sheepishly, acknowledging the truth in her statements.
She relaxed her stance and faced him. “We must speak of your brother’s wife, John.”
“What of her?”
“I won’t have our position usurped.”
John quirked a smile at her. “And just what is our ‘position’, Patricia?”
“You know precisely what I mean,” she said in exasperation. “She could decide that the earl’s younger brother and his family shouldn’t reside at Kanewood. She may take her position as lady of the manor to heart.”
John shook his head. “I sincerely doubt that. Rebecca seems pleasant enough. Shy as well. I can’t imagine she’d do any such thing.”
“Well, you had
better open your eyes. She has already ingratiated herself into your mother’s good graces. There is more to her than what she seems. Mark my words.”
“I think you’re overreacting, my dove.”
“I think not. Kane is quite smitten with her, that much is obvious. She keeps him ‘happy,’ I’d presume.”
John looked off for a moment. “I daresay she keeps him very happy,” he said, a grin on his face.
Patricia looked at him in disgust. “Enough about that,” she spat. “We won’t be thrown out of Kanewood by anyone, least of all that little country mouse.”
John nodded then. “All right. But what of the correspondence?”
“Apparently, Kane and his wife are planning to visit London for the last few weeks of the Season. Lady Margaret wishes to be there, also. It’s obvious she has grown attached to the girl.”
“And I presume we must go back, as well?”
“We’re expected to attend functions with the newly married earl and his bride. We must advise our friends that we’ll return to London soon.”
“At least we can stay in Kane’s townhouse,” John said.
A sharpness came into her cool blue eyes. “Try to keep me out of it.”
Chapter 12
Geoffrey and Becca passed a very pleasant morning riding the estate. As Geoffrey pointed out certain buildings and cottages she marveled at the size of his property, seemingly stretching as far as the eye could see. After a while, they crossed into the more pastoral areas, with virtually no buildings in sight. Her breath caught as she took in the stunning landscape.
“Geoffrey,” she said in awe. “Everything is so beautiful. So lush and green.”
He smiled and nodded. “Yes, love. We’re not far from Scotland, and I suppose that accounts for such greenery.”
He reined his chestnut gelding close to her black filly. “The land isn’t nearly as beautiful a green as your eyes, Becca.”
She smiled at his fanciful compliment. “Thank you.”
He pulled back. “Let’s find a spot for our picnic.”
Becca nodded and they rode on for a while, passing a brook where the clear water danced over the rocky bottom. He informed her that if they followed it upstream, they would come to a lovely clearing.
It was just as he said. Geoffrey reined in his horse and jumped from his saddle, turning to help Becca down. He retrieved a blanket from behind his saddle and carried it over to a spot under a large shade tree. He spread it on the ground, returning to help Becca with the other items.
The kitchen staff had prepared a delightful lunch of light fare: cold roast beef, fresh bread, and cheeses. Some summer fruits and strawberry tarts, Becca’s favorite, rounded off their picnic. They carried the filled satchels over to the blanket and settled down on it. They shared their meal, chatting about nothing in particular, pausing every so often to touch or kiss.
When they had consumed the simple fare, Geoffrey sighed contentedly and stretched out on the blanket, his hands behind his head.
Becca turned to him. She hadn’t seen him this relaxed since their picnic on the common in Oakham.
“You certainly look satisfied, husband,” she offered.
He looked at her, a crooked grin on his face. “Satisfied, love?” he answered. “Not particularly. But I know what will satisfy me.”
Becca saw the flash of lust in his eyes and felt her pulse quicken. She returned the uneaten portion of their meal to the satchels and rose to wash her hands in the brook. As she wiped them on a cloth from the satchel, he hugged her from behind. He nuzzled the nape of her neck.
Becca breathed in sharply, turning in his arms. Her hands came up to rest behind his neck as she kissed him lightly. Geoffrey cupped her face in his hands, running his gaze over her face. His gaze settled on her lips. He captured her lips with his, sweeping his tongue inside her mouth. She caught his passion, stretching up to press herself against him. She could feel his arousal through her many layers of clothing.
Geoffrey placed his hands on her bottom and lifted her, holding her tightly against him. He strode over to the large tree, bracing her against the trunk. He held her still while he ravaged her mouth. She melted against him, loving what he was doing to her. He managed to free her curls from her braid, and twisted her hair gently in his fist. He eased her head back, deepening the kiss. She moaned softly as he moved his lips to her neck.
“Ah, Becca,” he breathed in her ear. “I want you so badly.”
“Take me,” she said breathlessly.
He unbuttoned her jacket, pulled her chemise down. He buried his face in the valley between her breasts, teasing her. She bowed back, begging him without words. He took one straining nipple in his mouth, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from her.
“Oh, what your touch does to me!”
“And how I love to touch you,” he rasped.
His hands were everywhere, pulling her skirt up to touch her intimately. Before she was even aware of it, he’d removed her drawers and unbuttoned his breeches. He stretched her arms over her head, wrapping her hands around a stout branch there. He placed his hands on her bottom and lifted her.
“Love, wrap your legs around my waist. That’s it. That’s ….”
With one smooth thrust, he entered her. She cried out, the feeling intense. He pressed her tightly against the tree, driving into her again and again. She started to tighten around him, close to her release.
“Do you love me, Becca?” he rasped.
“Yes, Geoffrey,” she cried. “Yes!”
She shuddered from her climax, arching in pleasure. He drove harder still, seeking his release. His orgasm was explosive, bringing her with him again. She clung to him as he rained kisses on her hair, her face.
When their breathing returned to normal, she looked at him in surprise. “Oh my,” she whispered. “I didn’t know we could do that.”
“Could do what, love?” he whispered back.
“Stand up.”
He chuckled softly, dropping a kiss on her brow. A while later, they rearranged themselves and readied to return to the manor.
“Lovely afternoon, wife.” He grinned as he swung back into the saddle.
“Lovely picnic, husband,” she teased as she followed his horse back to the manor.
While alone with her husband, so relaxed and at ease, she could almost forget that Geoffrey’s brother and his cold wife waited at the manor. The memory of John’s narrowed gray eyes running over her body until she felt naked, Patricia’s pale gaze always on Geoffrey. Yes, she could almost forget.
Almost.
* * * *
They departed Kanewood for London two days later. Becca was nervous about going to town, having been there but once when she was very small. Inside the carriage, Becca sat close to Geoffrey, with Lady Margaret on her other side. On the opposite seat, Patricia and John faced them. Patricia talked incessantly about which balls they simply had to attend and those to avoid. “Everyone will be looking at you, Rebecca,” she advised. “You have much to live up to, being an earl’s wife.”
“Patricia, Rebecca has nothing to worry about,” Lady Margaret said. “She and Geoffrey make a stunning couple.”
Geoffrey chuckled. “Mother, no one will take notice of me with my lovely wife standing beside me.”
“Indeed,” John said.
Patricia glared in his direction until he turned to look out the window.
“Lady Margaret, Rebecca has never had a Season,” Patricia continued. “It falls on us to see that she doesn’t do anything to cause embarrassment.”
“That’s enough,” Geoffrey said. “Rebecca may not have attended the bashes, but that doesn’t mean she’d ever embarrass me.” He took Becca’s hand, bringing it to his lips. His touch warmed the chill from her fingers. “My wife possesses a natural grace and beauty that hundreds of balls could never bestow.”
“Thank you, Geoffrey,” Becca said softly.
He leaned over and placed a kiss on her ear. She dropped her gaze
and Geoffrey settled back against the seat, pulling Becca as close to him as was proper.
It was Patricia’s turn to stare out the window, Becca saw. John and Geoffrey conversed for a while, mostly about what some of their mutual friends had been about in London. The ladies talked more about the upcoming functions, and Becca eventually felt at least as much enthusiasm as nervousness.
* * * *
They stopped for the night at the inn they’d frequented on their trip to Kanewood and set off early the next day. As they neared Oakham that afternoon, Geoffrey announced they would be making another stop.
“And where will we be stopping, Geoffrey?” Lady Margaret asked.
“At the Raven’s Inn, Mother.”
Becca sharply drew in a breath, clasping her hands together. “You’d said we might stop at Raven’s, but when you didn’t mention it, I thought you’d changed your mind.”
He smiled at her obvious delight. “I wanted to surprise you.”
She hugged him in answer and turned to his mother. “Lady Margaret, I know you will enjoy the inn,” she promised. “Our cook is the best for miles around.”
“I concur,” Geoffrey said.
“I doubt I shall be so impressed with a country inn,” Patricia said.
John rubbed his hands together. “Well, I’m famished.”
“And I’m looking forward to meeting your father, Rebecca,” Lady Margaret said.
Geoffrey held his countenance, unwilling to let Becca see his anger and guess something had transpired between him and her father that last morning. Luckily, the carriage soon rolled to a stop and her attention was taken.
“The inn is just lovely, Rebecca,” Lady Margaret said.
Becca turned to the woman and smiled. Patricia wore a look of surprise as she stepped down. “I hadn’t expected such ….” She smiled cooly. “Elegance.”
Geoffrey alighted after them, handing first his wife, then his mother, down. They entered the inn and searched out Becca’s father.
“Kingsley?” Geoffrey called out in greeting.
“Yes, yes.” Thomas came out of his office. “What is it? Rebecca!”
Thomas grabbed Becca by the arms, running his gaze over her face. She seemed surprised by his display. Little wonder that, as Geoffrey had never seen much affection there before.
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