by Fiona Miers
“Well, let’s be generous. Let’s say he’s thirty and has been sowing his wild oats for ten years. Let’s give him five women a year. That makes fifty women in total.”
“That sounds horrible when you add them up like that,” John muttered. It was horrible when he thought about it that way. He had bedded at least twice that many women. Over the last few years the average would be about five a year but when he was younger and his blood had been hot, it had been much more than that.
He’d never considered how many that would mean over time.
“Precisely. How would you, as an eligible gentleman feel if I’d had fifty lovers?” Hannah asked turning to look directly at John.
John saw red. His hands clenched spasmodically at his sides. A ripping jealousy gripped his stomach and he wanted to hurl something.
Never, she will never know any other man.
John blinked as the possessive comment passed through his mind.
“I would be disgusted,” John told her honestly, swallowing. He shifted from foot to foot. Perhaps he should take Archie and head for the card room?
“And yet I am expected to marry a man like that?” Hannah asked him, looking at Oliver as well. Oliver, the big traitor, smiled and gripped his wife in a possessive way. It was quite obvious he didn’t care either way, he had his wife.
“It isn’t the same,” John argued, getting Hannah’s attention again. It wasn’t. Men and woman were different.
“Of course it’s the same,” Hannah argued, tssking in impatience, low in her throat.
She obviously didn’t understand how things were and why they were set up that way.
“But don’t you want a husband who can please you? Who knows what he’s doing in the bedroom?” John asked, sure this was a clear point.
“Oh, is that why men sleep with whores? For practice pleasing their wives?” Hannah asked with a flutter of her eyelashes.
There was a sudden stillness within their group that could only be deciphered as shock. Oliver and John knew well what it was like to bed a whore, and their pleasure was the last thing on a man’s mind.
She had obliterated his argument in one clean stroke and John wasn’t sure if he should be angry or impressed at her ingenuity.
“Just what I thought. Very well then, if I get the opportunity to take a lover I’ll make sure I choose a rake. But I’m going to marry a gentleman.” Hannah announced with a smile. “Oh, there’s Mrs. Haversham, I must say hello,” then she was gone, making her way across the room to her side.
John stood struck dumb. Had Hannah said that he had too much experience for her? Who knew women like this existed? His father had always encouraged him and his brother to sleep with as many women as possible. Both before and after they were married. He had been told that few ladies enjoyed bedding so it was best not to bother them too often. He looked at Charlotte and Sarah and realized with a shock, that his father, the all-powerful Duke of Arrow, had been wrong.
Chapter 5.
Hannah awoke to sun streaming in her open blinds. She never slept past sunrise, what time was it?
She stretched and climbed out of bed. Seeing the clock on the mantle almost read eleven, Hannah gasped. What a lazy way to start the day! She made her way down for breakfast hoping she would finally be able to ride a horse today. Archie had promised her that she would still be able to during her stay in London.
“Good morning Hannah,” Charlotte called from the sitting room. “There’s breakfast still on the table in the dining room if you want toast.”
Hannah walked into the sitting room to find that Charlotte had company, tea, and muffins. A much better alternative to toast.
“I would love a muffin and a cup of tea.”
Hannah looked towards Sarah, who was sitting on the opposite chaise. “Your Grace,” she curtsied with a smile.
Charlotte had explained on the way home that Sarah was a Duchess, therefore she had the title of Her Grace, not ‘my lady.’
Sarah frowned at her. “Sit down and join us, Hannah, I told you to call me Sarah.”
Hannah picked up a blueberry muffin and sat down on a separate chair. As an only child, she’d never had this sort of atmosphere, of many girls around the same age in her home. It was lovely. She finally felt like she had a sister in Charlotte.
“How did you sleep?” Charlotte asked.
“So good, thank you. I rarely sleep well but that late night made such a difference.”
Sarah chuckled. “It took me so long to get used to town hours. People here sleep until noon, begin their day after lunch and then are up half the night. It’s not natural.” Sarah shook her head and took a sip of her tea.
“John seems to like those hours,” Hannah murmured absently.
Charlotte and Sarah’s heads turned towards her so quickly that Hannah jumped.
“Did I say something wrong?”
Sarah looked at Charlotte and Charlotte placed her cup of tea down. “No, not at all. I just didn’t think you liked John very much.”
Hannah swallowed, she was going to have to be careful here. She knew how women liked to gossip in America and knew that women here were no different.
“I don’t particularly, but he is one of the few gentlemen I have spoken to. I was referencing one of the only opinions I know.”
Hannah looked down at the plate and picked up her muffin. She bit into the sweet cake and smiled at the ladies.
Charlotte looked at her with meaningful eyes. “John isn’t the best example of a gentleman.”
Hannah scoffed. “You’re telling me?”
Both ladies stared at her again and she picked up her teacup to hide her face. She needed to learn to curb her conversation a little.
“Did John do something or say something he shouldn’t have?” Charlotte asked gently. Hannah saw the look in Charlotte’s eyes and knew she had to be careful what she said again.
“Well, he has said a few inappropriate things, but nothing damaging. Why? Has he got a reputation for corrupting young ladies?”
Hannah frowned, she couldn’t see John in that way despite everything that had happened between them.
Charlotte shook her head. “No, not at all. He rarely speaks to any lady’s. John tends to keep women in a box.”
Charlotte grimaced and Sarah sighed.
“A box?” Hannah asked, eating the last bite of her muffin and dusting her hands off.
Charlotte and Sarah exchanged a worried glance.
“Oh, speak freely, please.” Hannah waved her hand, giving the two ladies permission to disclose any information they thought was necessary.
Charlotte cleared her throat. “John has a rule.”
“A rule?” Hannah asked, her imagination running rampant. Like, a bedroom rule?
“Yes, he has a mistress for six months, then replaces them,” Charlotte explained, taking another sip of tea as though she were talking about the weather.
“Why would he do that?” Hannah asked. Why would a man replace his mistress that often? Did he get sick of them that quickly?
Charlotte sighed. “I believe it’s because of my parents. My father has had the same mistress for more than fifteen years. She lives at our country estate in the Dowager house. My mother hates it, but there’s nothing she can do stop him. It has turned her bitter and we don’t tend to go there anymore because of her.”
Sarah lay a comforting hand on Charlotte’s knee.
Hannah frowned. “I don’t understand.” What did that have to do with John?
“Our whole family has suffered from my father’s choice. I have never asked John, but I think he does everything he can, not to be like our father.”
Hannah could see Charlotte’s point but it still wasn’t making sense. She knew how a parent’s behavior affected their children. But what did John’s father obviously being in love with his mistress have to do with John’s need to replace his mistress so often?
“He’s always nice to me.” Sarah smiled.
“
You are an exception.” Charlotte laughed.
“Lizzie likes him too,” Sarah argued.
Hannah liked the fact that Oliver’s beautiful wife was defending John. It meant that he wasn’t all bad.
“Who’s Lizzie?” Hannah asked, wanting to create a family tree in her head for John’s friends.
“Oh, Lizzie is Rupert’s new wife. John’s the only unmarried Spare.” Charlotte answered.
“What’s a Spare?”
Sarah and Charlotte both giggled.
“Oh, that’s a nickname the men have for each other. Aristocratic families tend to aim for an heir and a spare son so that inheriting goes to a blood relative. John, Oliver, Archie and Rupert are all the spare sons to titled, rich families. Their group was called ‘The Spares’ when they were at school.” Charlotte explained with another winsome smile.
“But isn’t Oliver a Duke?” Hannah asked, feeling slightly stupid. She hated asking so many questions. She wasn’t used to being so oblivious to everything.
“Yes, that’s the strange thing. Of the spares, Oliver inherited, Archie will inherit when his father dies, Rupert is his brother's heir and John, well…” Sarah looked at Charlotte uncertainly.
“John will inherit too if my sister in law doesn’t have a son,” Charlotte explained, looking a little sad.
“Do they have daughters?” Hannah asked, knowing that English law didn’t allow a female to inherit as American law did.
“No, they’ve been married for five years and have no children.”
Hannah cocked her head to the side and put all the pieces together. “So John could inherit too?”
“Yes, John could inherit too,” came a male voice from the doorway.
Hannah turned towards the familiar tones, her lips turning up in a smile.
“Hello John,” Hannah called, waving at him despite being caught gossiping. “Charlotte and Sarah were just filling me in on the history of The Spares. Amazing that you all may inherit isn’t it?”
John prowled into the room. “Yes, amazing.”
His eyes blazed and Hannah caught her breath. What passion lay beneath such a man?
“Charlotte, Sarah.” John bowed to his sister and her friend.
Hannah stood up and watched John carefully. His eyes were shadowed. Was he worried about what had been said?
“Found out anything interesting, Hannah?” John asked with interest and a smile.
Hannah swallowed down the need to tell him the truth. She found it very interesting that he changed mistresses like people changed their wardrobes. One season one look and the next a completely different one.
“Not really, I would love to meet Lizzie though.”
Hannah watched John’s face soften and wondered if that was due to his affection for Lizzie or for Rupert.
“I believe you would get along with Lizzie and Rupert very well.”
Hannah watched a real smile spread across John’s face, his famous charisma forgotten for a moment. He had just paid her a real compliment and she wasn’t sure how to handle it.
“So you’re the only one left unmarried, John?”
John’s eyes and mouth went flat. “Yes.”
Hannah was shocked to find the need to tease this strange man was so strong. But she supposed he deserved it after everything they’d been through in such a short time.
“So you’ll be next to get married?”
She could only imagine what sort of woman John would choose to marry. Would she need to put up with his mistresses as well?
“If I decide to marry, then, of course, I’ll be next. The other three are shackled for life.”
A smile crept across Hannah’s face. He had taken the bait like a fish.
“Of course you’ll marry. If you are next to inherit you will need an heir.” Hannah flashed John a huge smile, then watched as his jaw clenched and a muscle in his cheek throbbed.
“I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do. Why? Are you offering Hannah? Would you like to be the next Duchess of Arrow?”
Hannah heard the gasp of shock from Sarah or Charlotte but didn’t look away from John’s handsome face. His brown eyes were blazing and she was enjoying the conversation far too much.
“Oh no, not me. I told you just last night I couldn’t marry a man who has slept with half of London.”
Hannah couldn’t resist a glance to her side. The two other women had their mouths open in shock.
“You did, it’s just a pity you don’t know what you would be missing.” John ran his eyes slowly down her body and Hannah’s nipples hardened beneath her dress. How could such a man make her body respond like this?
“Don’t worry, you’re on my list if I want an affaire,” Hannah added, her temper getting the better of her.
Again, horrified gasps came from the other side of the room, but John’s mouth kicked up in amusement.
Hannah couldn’t help her answering smile.
“I am honored, my lady,” John bowed.
Hannah laughed to diffuse the tension in her own body.
“I’m going for a ride unless you need me for anything?” Hannah looked at Charlotte.
“No, not at all.” Charlotte recovered enough to say.
“I’ll see you both later then, so lovely to see you again Sarah,” Hannah addressed her new friend.
“You also, Hannah,” Sarah smiled, rubbing her very swollen belly.
Hannah curtseyed to the room and then turned to leave, excited to be able to get onto her horse, undo her hair, and let go.
John’s voice sounded behind her. “I will come with you if that’s alright?”
Hannah’s excitement flattened. If John came she would have to behave.
“I was looking forward to letting my hair down, so to speak.” Hannah grimaced out a smile for John. “I don’t think you can stop yourself from insulting me, and I can’t do that dance again.”
****
John felt a growl growing in his chest. He wanted to dance with her. A dance that would require her hair out and her naked up against a wall, on the floor, on a bloody horse, he wouldn’t care.
“I promise to be a perfect gentleman.”
Hannah looked indecisive so he threw in a sweetener.
“You can wear whatever you are comfortable in Hannah, and if I come with you I can take you to private grounds where your horse can stretch his legs without you being seen by the ton.”
When John saw Hannah’s eyes light up he knew he had said the right thing.
“I’ll meet you in the stables in fifteen minutes then,” Hannah curtsied and left.
John waited until she’d gone and then turned to his sister.
“That is very nice of you John, but please make sure she isn’t seen. She’ll never make a good match if people see her in breeches and a shirt.”
John couldn’t help the indignation that spilled out of him. “Hannah should be accepted for who she is, damn the ton.”
Charlotte’s eyes widened and John left before she could comment again.
He had a date with a wild woman and a horse, and his valet would need every second of that fifteen minutes to get him dressed.
Twenty minutes later John found himself running down the stairs. John’s valet had assured him that no lady could get out of her dress and into a riding habit in fifteen minutes. John wasn’t so confident.
John was proven correct when the beautiful American virgin stood waiting for him, riding crop in hand.
“You’re late, let’s go.”
Hannah gripped the reins on her large stallion, stepped into the stirrup and swung up into the saddle. John watched in awe. What lady had strength and dexterity like that?
John shook his head and swung up onto his own stallion. No lady could. It was just her. Hannah was in a class entirely by herself.
“Follow me,” John called over his shoulder as he directed his horse out of the stables.
He didn’t stop to see if she kept up, just steered his horse through a few
short streets until they reached an open field.
Hannah pulled her own horse up next to his moments later.
“If we cross over that fence then we should be safe to do anything you like,” John grinned devilishly.
Hannah’s laugh rang out like a church bell and she flicked her riding crop out at him. It artfully connected with his horse’s flank, just below John’s thigh.
John’s horse lunged forward and he leaned into the saddle. He was always partially aroused when Hannah was around, but he was harder than rock now. It was uncomfortable against the pommel of the horse but he pressed into it, happy for the distraction.