And the room he still chose as his sanctuary.
Daniel would be repelled by any show of pity, but Kate ached for the lost, neglected soul he had described, though she could not reconcile that boy with the sturdy, self-sufficient youth she remembered.
‘So your father starved you of affection,’ she said, ‘but Gillian—’
‘Oh, I was every bit in thrall to Gillian as my father was,’ Daniel said sardonically.
‘You were a little boy, and she was a beautiful and utterly selfish young woman who even then cared for nothing and no one but herself,’ Kate said vehemently. ‘She took advantage of you.’ A terrible thought struck her. ‘Surely your father didn’t blame you when she eloped?’ Daniel’s overly casual shrug was all the answer she needed. ‘That is what you meant when you told me that Gillian didn’t give a fig for the consequences when she eloped, isn’t it? You were a child, for goodness’ sake.’
‘He accused me of aiding and abetting her since I’d kept the letters secret from him. Regardless of my age, that constituted betrayal for him.’
‘What happened?’
‘I was summarily packed off to school.’
‘But wasn’t that what you had wanted all along?’
‘The school I’d imagined for myself was rather different from the one I was forced to attend. But in the end it all turned out well, don’t you think? If Gillian had not run off with Brannagh then your precious girls wouldn’t have existed, let alone found their way to you, and you wouldn’t have had the chance to raise three such paragons.’
‘They are not paragons, but they are fine young women. Despite the fact that Mrs Hartford thinks the only credit due is to your sister, I am proud to have played a part—and so should you be.’
‘I’ve no right to be proud of them. I’ve done nothing to contribute to their success.’
‘You put a roof over their heads, paid their father’s debts and provided one of them with the ideal husband—which, in turn, allowed her to set up the other two for life. But apart from that you’re quite right—you’ve done nothing.’
‘How did you know about the debts?’
‘I didn’t. Eloise guessed as much. She was right, then, I take it?’
‘I left the Brannagh family to fight between themselves for the right to sell off the house and the racehorses to pay the bank. I paid the tradesmen, for I doubted anyone else would. And now I really think I’ve had enough of ancient history for today.’
‘I don’t know about ancient history,’ Kate said, acceding to the note of finality in his voice, ‘but I thought you made an excellent job of inventing your own more recent past. Though you did stretch credulity a little far with that tall tale you told the vicar’s wife about taking a thorn from the paw of a baby lion.’
‘Actually, that one was true,’ Daniel said, visibly relaxing.
‘And the one where you plunged in a dugout canoe over the edge of a waterfall and into a whirlpool?’
‘I have been in a dugout canoe. On a very calm river. And someone else was paddling.’
‘I’d like to paddle a canoe,’ Kate said. ‘Or even row a little dinghy. I’ve never done that. Listening to you today has made me realise how narrow my life has been. By choice, and I’ve been very happy, but now I think you are right—it’s time I broadened my horizons.’
‘Then we’ll build that into our ending,’ Daniel said. ‘Though I don’t wish to talk about endings now, when we’ve only just begun.’ He turned towards her. ‘I was proud of you today, knowing how nervous you were. No one questioned our story. “We have other plans for this afternoon,”’ he teased, his tone ensuring there was no mistaking the innuendo. ‘Well played, Lady Elmswood. Perhaps you should consider a new life on the stage when you are done with playing this part.’
‘You seem very certain that I was acting.’
His smile dawned slowly. ‘I would be very happy to be proved wrong.’
She ought to be shocked at herself for being so brazen, but being this new, bold Kate excited her. She leaned into him, trailing her fingers down his cheek, then leaned closer again and pressed her mouth to his.
She heard the sharp intake of his breath as their lips met, had time to worry, when he hesitated, that she had been overly forward, then stopped thinking and started kissing.
Her eyes closed and she felt as if her whole body was melting into their kisses. Slow, gentle kisses becoming deeper kisses, the kind of kisses she hadn’t known existed, leading her from gentle pleasure to sweet, drugging delight, and then on to a new place, where kisses were not enough. She forgot where she was, she forgot who she was, only wanting more of this ache inside her that their kisses had triggered.
As if he read her mind Daniel cupped her breast, drawing a moan from her, making her nipples peak. He dragged his mouth from hers to kiss her throat, to kiss the exposed flesh at the neckline of her gown. She moaned again, but it still wasn’t enough.
‘Kate.’ He gave her a tiny shake. ‘We can’t do this here.’
His eyes were dark, his pupils tiny, his cheeks flushed. She had done this to him. And she wanted to do more.
‘It’s Sunday,’ she said, leaning back into him. ‘No one will come.’
‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that,’ Daniel muttered, his smile wicked.
‘Truly, there’s no one around...we are quite alone.’
For some reason her words made him laugh, but when she opened her mouth to ask him what was so amusing he kissed her again. They kissed until they were breathless, until the bench they were sitting on became too much of an obstacle for closeness, and then Daniel pulled her towards him, rucking up her skirts so that she could kneel astride him. And when their mouths met again, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, there was no distance between them, and she could feel him, hard and aroused, pressing between her legs, through his breeches and her petticoats, and the ache inside her became a craving, an irresistible urge to be even closer.
‘Kate...’ he said, as she wriggled closer. ‘Dear Lord, have you any idea...?’
‘Yes, I have,’ she answered, because she could see the effect she was having, and feel it—both on Daniel and on her—and it filled her with such confidence and such strange, wicked joy to know that she could do this, she could have this. ‘Yes...’ she said again, in a different tone, with a different smile, and just as she’d hoped he kissed her again.
It was a different kiss, like a change in tone. And then there were more kisses, as his hands worked their magic on her breasts, on her nipples, and she lost herself in the sensations he was arousing, entranced, caught up in craving, in a driving need to reach a pleasurable conclusion.
When his hands left her breasts she moaned in protest—a moan that became a gasp as he slipped his hand between her legs. She swore, shocking herself, using a word she had never uttered, as he found the gap between her pantaloons and touched her.
‘Sorry,’ she muttered, and she felt his shoulders shake slightly in amusement, which eased her embarrassment, and then his touch made her forget everything again, save the need for completion.
His fingers slid over her. She was wet. And hot. And then they slid into her and she was tight. She could hear herself, panting, begging, rocking against his touch, arching her back, saying yes, yes, yes, as he stroked her and thrust into her and teased her. He was taking her to the edge of something, refusing to let her fall and tumble, and she had no idea what he was doing, knew only that she didn’t want him to stop, that she couldn’t take any more.
And at that point she jumped or fell or flew—she knew not which—crying out her astonished delight, feeling herself tightening around his fingers. She clutched his shoulders, then fell onto him, pressing kisses, wild indiscriminate kisses, over his face, panting his name, until gradually it eased, and then stopped.
Reluctantly, belatedly embarrassed, she ease
d herself upright and met his gaze. ‘I had no idea...’ she mumbled dreamily.
He kissed her softly on the mouth. ‘I know.’
‘But you did?’
‘Yes.’ He frowned slightly. ‘No. Not like that.’
He helped her upright, getting to his feet.
‘What are you doing? Are we—? Shouldn’t we—? What about...?’
He kissed her again, shaking his head. ‘I think that’s more than enough. It is for me. That’s what’s different.’
‘You don’t want to continue?’
He laughed at that. ‘You must know perfectly well that I do. So much that I’m going to have to go for a swim. But—no, that was enough.’
‘But...’
‘Why rush towards the end when we can enjoy the journey?’
‘That sounds to me like a quotation.’
‘It is—very roughly translated, and from a very old book full of very interesting suggestions that I am hoping we can both enjoy in the weeks to come. If you like.’
His smile was wicked.
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I am already pretty sure that I will like whatever it is,’ Kate said.
Daniel laughed again. ‘My wife is a temptress!’
‘Am I? I rather like that notion.’
‘And I am certain that you’ll be very good at it.’ He kissed her again, then turned her around, adjusting the neckline of her gown. ‘But I really don’t think we want anyone else to see how tempting you have been. Let me see if I can make you look a bit more respectable and myself a bit less like I have a limp.’
* * *
Daniel was just finishing his swim when Kate watched him from her bedroom window two days later, completing two more lazy laps before pulling himself onto the bank and draping his dressing gown around him. Looking up, he saw her, smiled and waved.
She tried not to spectate every morning, but she made no attempt to hide it when she did, and he always waved. Was he disappointed when she wasn’t there? He seemed quite unembarrassed by his nakedness. But then he’d nothing to be embarrassed about.
Oliver appeared, wheeling his barrow on his way to either the rose garden or the walled garden, but Daniel, padding barefoot across the lawn, seemed not to notice him. She thought that she’d agreed with Oliver that he would start the week making the quarterly maintenance checks on the cottages at the east of the estate, but perhaps it was too early for him to make a start.
He wasn’t wearing his shirt, but she didn’t for a moment think, as Daniel did, that it was for her benefit. Not at this time in the morning. It was very hot, that was all. He was tanned, and there was no doubt that he had a very impressive physique, but, studying it objectively, Kate decided she preferred Daniel’s sleeker, lither form.
If only she had a sleeker, lither form. Turning away from the window, Kate stood in front of the mirror, studying herself dispassionately. Her face was too tanned, and there were crows’ feet at the corners of her eyes, but she could still pass for twenty-six—or seven at a push. She had none of the girls’ carriage-stopping beauty, and she’d have liked better cheekbones, but on the whole it was a very acceptable face.
No, her face wasn’t the problem.
Taking a deep breath, she pulled her nightgown over her head, and forced herself to look at her naked body. This was not something she had ever done consciously before, and it came as something of a shock. She was so pale. And very far from sleek! Without her corset, her breasts bounced! She hadn’t realised that her hips flared out quite so much, and—dear heavens—were those dimples at the tops of her thighs? She leaned closer, and a soft roll of flesh appeared at her waist, so she stood up again immediately, pulling her tummy in, distracted by the way the action made her bosom stick out and made her waist seem much smaller. But that in turn made her hips look bigger.
Deciding that now she’d come this far she might as well know the worst, she turned sideways to look at her rear and was pleasantly surprised. A couple of dimples there, but actually quite a pleasing shape. At least she thought so.
What on earth would Daniel think?
She flushed all over—or so it felt—at the notion of Daniel seeing her naked. Would they have to be naked to make love? Even if they were, it would be dark, wouldn’t it? People didn’t make love in broad daylight. Or did they? So far every single kiss they had shared had been in broad daylight, and even in the walled garden, where they’d shared a great deal more than a kiss, she had remained fully clothed!
Kate turned from the mirror, pulling on her dressing gown. She didn’t want to be fumbling about in the dark when they made love—if they made love—she wanted to see everything. Not only all of that sleek, muscled body, she wanted to see his face. She wanted to see the effect she was having on him. Seeing the effect she had on him was one of the most exciting aspects of making love. So far, at least.
She sank down on the bed, wrapping her arms around herself. Her body had started to—to thrum! Had it been a mistake to kiss Daniel at all? Before she had kissed him she’d had only vague notions of what she had been missing. Now she knew, what was she going to do when he was gone?
‘For heaven’s sake, Kate!’
Startling herself by speaking aloud, she laughed, gave herself a shake, and got up to set about finding some clothes. They had more than two months more to spend together. What she was feeling was far too urgent to last. She’d probably have had enough of him long before he left, though right at this moment she couldn’t imagine that.
The more she knew of him, the more she wanted to know. Was it the fact that he was so determined not to be known that intrigued her—a question of her wanting what she couldn’t have? They were married until death parted them, but he was her husband only until Sir Marcus summoned him. By autumn he would be gone, maybe even before. And then what would she do?
She would be alone at Elmswood for the first time in her life. How would she cope, going back to the previous incarnation of their marriage, writing Daniel tedious little summaries once every couple of months and getting a few lines back in return, if she was lucky? No, that was impossible. But what, then? There was no question of Daniel doing anything other than returning to foreign service—it was what he lived and breathed for—and no question, either, of her wishing any different, was there?
She would miss him. He was not easy company, but he was very good company. He had brought out a side of her that she hadn’t known existed, and she liked the Kate she’d become. Unlike Daniel, she had no intentions of sloughing off that particular skin and starting again. But that was what she’d have to do, wasn’t it? She couldn’t imagine herself taking a lover. But nor could she imagine a life without any sort of lovemaking.
So what, then? So nothing—yet, she told herself impatiently. She and Daniel hadn’t even made love properly. She might well be disappointed. Though, frankly, it was more likely he would be. And, even more frankly, after yesterday she doubted either of them would be, in which case she would spend the remainder of their faux honeymoon making hay!
Once she’d done that, then she would worry about the future. In the meantime, if she must worry about anything, she would think seriously about what Daniel would make of her thirty-three-year-old body...
Kate stopped in the act of pulling open her stocking drawer. Maybe a darkened room in the middle of the night wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
* * *
‘We should probably start to think about this garden party we’re going to host,’ Daniel said, pouring Kate’s tea and passing her a plate of bread and butter. The bread was thinly cut, the butter spread carefully right up to the crust, just as she liked it. ‘Make a list of people to invite,’ he continued, ‘think about hiring extra help, that kind of thing.’
His hair was damp from his swim. He was wearing one of his tunics and loose-fitting trousers, not silk this morning, but
linen and, by the looks of it, undyed. He looked cool and comfortable and she was already hot, even though she was wearing one of her lightest muslin gowns. With a chemise and pantaloons and corset and petticoats—no wonder she was hot! Did Daniel have anything at all on under those two items of clothing?
‘What is it?’ he asked, looking amused.
‘I don’t know anything about men’s undergarments,’ Kate said, immediately covering her hand with her mouth, appalled to have spoken her thoughts. ‘I mean—I was thinking that they are very different from the female kind.’
‘I know.’
‘Daniel!’ Kate set down her teacup, spluttering with laughter. ‘This is not a fit topic for the breakfast table.’
‘You brought it up, and now that you have I have lost all interest in making lists for a garden party I’d rather not host in the first place.’
‘I brought it up only because I was thinking how delightful and cooling it would be to dress as you do, without all my petticoats and such.’
‘It’s the “and such” that interests me.’ He propped his chin onto his hand, smiling mischievously. ‘Tell me more.’
She folded her lips together, trying not to laugh. ‘I will do no such thing.’
‘Then I suppose we had better get on with drawing up a guest list.’
‘Must we? I’m not in the least bit inclined to spend my day planning a party that no one is much interested in my attending. You’re the one they’re interested in. I think I’ll affect a headache that day.’
‘Kate, you don’t imagine for a moment that I enjoyed all that fawning and naked curiosity at church, do you?’
‘No, of course I don’t, and I am certainly not saying that I wanted to be fawned over and interrogated either, but it has made me think quite seriously about the future. I have never had only myself to consider, and I want to be able to do just that. I don’t want to be alone, but I don’t want the kind of company who cares only for my position in society—or for the man I’m married to, for that matter.’
The Inconvenient Elmswood Marriage (Penniless Brides 0f Convenience Book 4) Page 12