“I wouldn’t go quite that far.”
“You’re like Stephen when he returned from the Crimea. His emotional wounds were far worse than the physical ones. Thank God for Mercy, I say. She put him back to rights.” She held his gaze. “Who shall do that for you?”
He was spared from answering as Jayne strolled into the room. He considered extending to her the courtesy Leo had extended his mother—preparing her plate—but he had to give the impression that she was no more than a guest.
Leo, however, had no such qualms or restrictions. He popped out of his chair as though someone had pinched his bottom and approached her. “Good morning, lovely lady. Have a seat and I shall prepare a plate for you.”
“No need. I can see to it.”
“Surely you will not deny me the pleasure it will bring me by doing such a small favor for you.” Taking her arm, he guided her into a chair.
Jayne appeared flummoxed as her gaze darted from Ainsley to his mother. “He’s quite charming.”
“Yes,” his mother said succinctly, causing Ainsley to slide his gaze to her.
He’d assumed Leo had given Jayne the attention to irritate him, to perhaps steer him toward some sort of action—it had certainly pricked his temper, and if he were honest, ignited a spark of jealousy. But he recognized now that it was his mother Leo had been prodding by his attentions to Jayne. “Well, he’s not your husband,” Ainsley murmured.
He was surprised the scalding glare his mother gave him didn’t ignite him. “Leo is always attentive to all ladies. It is part of his charm.”
“But I always save the best for you,” Leo said smoothly as he placed Jayne’s plate before her. He winked at the duchess and effectively defused her anger or jealousy or whatever the hell it was she’d been expressing.
They read each other so well. Ainsley tried not to ponder how much he yearned for a similar closeness with a woman. He’d never given much thought to the matter of marriage, assuming he’d address the situation when he was ready to produce an heir. He entertained women, they entertained him. He was seldom without company. And yet he was suddenly aware that something powerful and possibly magnificent was missing from his life. Was his reason for being here with Jayne not completely unselfish? He couldn’t deny that she filled a void that until recently he’d not even known existed.
His life would be all the more lonely when she left. Perhaps it was time he began to search for a wife. But even that did not seem enough. What he desperately longed for was a love. Such as that shared by Leo and his mother.
He was grateful his mother behaved during the meal. She didn’t pepper Jayne with questions or ask her opinion regarding whom he should wed. They spoke of the upcoming Season and how perhaps Jayne and Walfort would finally return to London. He wasn’t certain how he would endure it—seeing her there, knowing their paths would cross constantly. Would it be a blessing or a curse? Yet neither could he envision never again seeing her.
It was a relief when they all finished breakfast and his mother announced that it was time she and Leo were off.
They stood on the front lawn, saying their good-byes.
“I’ll send word on how Lady Lynnford is progressing,” his mother said.
“Give her my love.” With Lynnford serving as Ainsley’s guardian, Lady Lynnford had been as a second mother to him. She was the gentlest soul he’d ever known. He hated that she was suffering.
His mother wound her arms around him, hugging him tightly and whispering low near his ear, “Please take care. I fear you’re treading on dangerous ground here.”
When she pulled back, he gave her a reassuring grin. “I am ever careful.”
Lovingly, she patted his cheek before moving on to hug Jayne. “It was lovely to see you, my dear. We must keep in touch.”
He recognized the signs of Jayne struggling for a response, weighing the awkwardness of a future encounter against the guilt she’d expressed last night. Finally, she simply bobbed her head. “Yes, that would be lovely.”
As the carriage drove away, Ainsley leaned toward Jayne and said, “Lovely as hell.”
She jerked back. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Keeping in touch with my mother. She’s meddling, you know.”
“Do you think she knows my true purpose in being here?”
“Not in her wildest imagination would she draw that conclusion.”
“I rather like Leo. I do believe he loves your mother.”
Last night she’d only mentioned his mother’s love of Leo. “I’ve no doubt you’re correct.” He skimmed his fingers over her cheek. “What would you like to do today?”
“What I do anytime I’ve ever entertained and the guests have left. Absolutely nothing.”
Jayne borrowed one of the books from Ainsley’s library and retreated to her bedchamber. Reclining on the longue near a window, she read for a while. Five minutes to be exact. She rose, walked to the secretary, and sat to pen a letter to Walfort, to let him know she was well. After dipping pen in inkwell, she determined that was an awful idea and would no doubt plague him with the reminder that his wife was with another man.
She walked to the window, leaned on the sill and gazed out for a full two minutes. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ainsley wandering away from the house. He did love his outdoors. She was surprised by the joy that rippled through her at the sight of him, then decided it was nothing more than a response to being bored. He served as a distraction.
She opened the window and leaned out as far as she was able without losing her balance and toppling to the ground. “Ainsley!”
He spun around. An emotion she didn’t recognize ratcheted around her heart, making it difficult to draw in a breath. Still she managed to call out, “Will you wait up for me?”
Even from her precarious perch she could see his broad smile as he yelled, “As long as it takes!”
She released a burst of laughter. “I’ll hurry!”
Withdrawing back inside, she closed her window and pressed her forehead to the cool glass. She shouldn’t be anticipating joining him as much as she was. It was wrong. Yet at that particular moment nothing had ever felt so incredibly right.
She didn’t bother with a hat. She simply grabbed her pelisse, draped it around her shoulders and rushed out. He was waiting exactly where he’d stopped when she called out to him. She didn’t know why it pleased her so much. “Where are you going?”
“Nowhere in particular. I just felt the need to stretch my legs.”
Before Walfort’s accident, she’d loved walking, trudging through forests, over the land. Afterward she felt guilty anytime she partook of an activity that now eluded him. But she didn’t have to feel guilty here. Ainsley could easily outdistance her. “Do you mind if I join you?”
“I was hoping you would. I’ve wandered in sight of your window at least a dozen times now.”
She laughed lightly, filled with a joyous ebullience. “You’re teasing.”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you knock on my door and ask?”
“I had the sense you wanted to be alone for a bit.”
She shook her head. “I thought I did. I was wrong.”
“Well, then.” He extended his arm and she wrapped hers around it. “Let’s see what adventure awaits, shall we?”
They strolled along in silence for several moments before she dared to ask, “So what other secrets do you hold?”
She gave him an impish smile when he gazed down on her. “None I can reveal.”
“Do any of them involve Walfort?”
“Why ever would you think that?”
“He’s your cousin, but more, he is your friend.”
“Because he is my friend, I have locked his secrets away, and even you do not have the key that will set them free.”
She saw the determination in his eyes and wondered at the secrets. They probably all involved naughty things they’d done before she married Walfort. She let her curiosity lapse, for w
hat did they matter?
“I’m not ashamed to be here with you, you know,” Jayne said.
“I wasn’t certain. It’s a very unusual circumstance that has brought us here.”
“If I were ashamed, I’d have not come. I’m wary, to be sure, and from time to time plagued with doubts regarding the wisdom of what we’re doing, but then I consider what I will gain and am selfish enough to want it and hope that you don’t pay too high a price for it.”
“If it wasn’t a price I was willing to pay, I wouldn’t be here.”
They had entered a copse of trees. She gazed up at the remaining leaves displaying their abundant colors and listened as they crackled in the slight breeze. The ground beneath their feet was soft, and their steps crushed the leaves that had already fallen. The soil would be richer come spring. Everything circled.
She shook her head. “Do you know what I noticed last night regarding your mother and Leo?”
“That they are not at all discreet regarding their relationship?”
She heard the disapproval in his voice. Considering his reputation, he would be a hypocrite to object too strongly, but from what she knew, he was at least circumspect in his relationships. “That they talk. They communicate. Even when they were giving us a terrible beating at cards, they somehow were able to read each other’s minds. Walfort and I seldom talk . . . even before the accident. The night you kissed me on the terrace and you mentioned something about how a kiss owns itself, that it simply is. You were correct. We could have kissed, we could have touched . . . it is as though we placed ourselves in separate cages. I was being a dutiful wife, not a loving one.”
“If he never kissed you, Jayne, I can hardly credit him with being a loving husband.”
She was caught off guard by the heat in his voice, the temper that accompanied it. Feeling as though the forest was closing in on her, she squeezed his arm. “I’m sorry. I promised not to speak of him while I’m here and yet I’m rambling on. It is simply strange to find myself suddenly discovering aspects to love that I’d never considered. I think your wife will be most fortunate.”
She’d nearly stumbled over the word wife, and she didn’t know why. Of course, he would marry and have other children. Lots of them, no doubt—based upon his stamina and enthusiasm for lovemaking. She wished him well. She was not feeling anything beyond gratitude toward him, certainly not jealousy. That would be a fool’s path.
“If I ever marry,” he said quietly as they emerged through the trees, giving her a different view of the lake.
“Surely you shall marry.”
“As you are well aware, among the aristocracy we marry for various reasons. Political gain. My title brought with it the influence of my ancestors. I have little use for more political swagger.” He shrugged. “Financial gain? Again, my ancestors saw me in good stead there. I do not need more wealth. An heir? Unfortunately, ladies do not come with lettering on the forehead to indicate how many sons they may deliver or if they may even deliver a child at all. So what is left to me? Love. That is very difficult to find.”
“I should think for you that it would be quite easy.”
“Why? You don’t love me.”
“Well, no . . . I love Walfort.” It seemed so little to say. “I don’t hate you.”
His laughter echoed around them. “High praise indeed.”
“You will find someone to love you, Ainsley. You deserve it.” And he did, she realized, more than anyone she knew.
“I thought you thought I deserved to rot in hell?”
He was smiling at her, his green eyes twinkling. She imagined he was striving to turn away from a topic he obviously found uncomfortable. “Well, yes, of course, but not until you’re old . . . and dead.”
He chuckled low. “Ah, Jayne, you have no idea how much I enjoy your company.” He changed direction, leading them away from the lake. “I believe I shall take you fishing tomorrow.”
She considered asking him what he had planned for tonight, but she knew. For the first time since her arrival, she was anticipating the coming night with astounding excitement.
Chapter 15
Jayne awoke, still lethargic and sated after a less than sedate session of lovemaking. It was still dark so she knew it had been only a few hours since Ainsley had left her and she drifted off to sleep. Strange how she felt as though she were truly waking up for the first time in her life. She couldn’t explain it. She’d come here for a purpose, and even if she discovered this morning that she was with child, she would be loath to leave before the allotted time to which they’d all agreed.
Whatever was wrong with her? She should be missing Walfort, and in a way she was, but last night she’d not thought of him at all, not even when Ainsley left her. Instead all she could think about was the duke and the pleasure she found in his arms. His experience made him far more skilled than Walfort, but it was more than his talents. When she was with him, it was as though no one else in the world existed for him. All his attention was focused on her. No doubt it was part of the game at which he excelled: seducing women. Yet it never felt like a game. It seemed he meant every touch, every press of his lips, every caress.
She released a long, lingering sigh, followed by a low moan. Already she—
“Wonderful. You’re finally stirring.”
With a tiny screech, she scrambled back, sat up against the headboard and stared at the silhouette near the window. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here. ’Tis my cottage.”
“I meant in my bedchamber.” And she suspected he knew very well what she meant.
“I came to awaken you but couldn’t bring myself to do it. I have something to show you, and now that you’re awake . . .” He tossed a bundle onto the bed. “I borrowed them from the stable boy. They’re clean. I doubt they’ll be a perfect fit—he hasn’t your lovely curves—but they’ll do in a pinch.”
“What exactly are they?”
She heard the strike of a match, watched it flare before he lit the lamp. The flickering light revealed him dressed in woolen trousers, a shirt, and a brown jacket—all of which appeared to have come from a beggar.
“Trousers,” he answered.
“I can’t wear trousers.”
“Of course you can. It’s still dark. No one will see, but you need to hurry. We must be there before first light.”
“And where is it that we must be?”
“Why, where the sprites and faeries play, of course. With any luck, perhaps we’ll even capture one.”
“Ainsley, what on earth are you on about?”
“It’s a secret. Now hurry along.”
She was sputtering her refusals when he strode from the room. She should pull up the covers and return to sleep. Instead she drew her nightdress over her head and quickly put on the trousers and shirt. It seemed as though there should be more items than this. They were so light. She felt embarrassed at the thought of leaving the room wearing so little. Wearing only a nightdress to bed was one thing, but to go out into the world without her womanly armor was a bit intimidating. Yet neither could she deny the satisfaction of feeling so unencumbered. It was really quite marvelous not to have all that weight bearing down upon her body.
She dashed to the door, opened it, and found Ainsley standing with his back against the wall. “What should I put on my feet?”
“Riding boots. We’ll be taking the horses.”
“Then I should put on my riding habit.”
“No, you’ll be riding astride.”
“Ainsley, that’s not proper.”
He sighed as if she were a burden he wished to cast off. “Jayne, when will you learn that I find proper boring? Come along now. You’ll be glad of the trousers when we reach our destination.”
She considered arguing further, but an excitement was thrumming through her blood at the mysterious summons. Quickly, she slipped on her boots and buttoned them. Grabbing her cloak, she hurried into the hallway. He wore a rumpled hat now and pr
omptly dropped another on top of her head. Before she could reach up to adjust it, he was doing it for her. When he was satisfied, he studied her with an intensity that made her wish they were going to return to the bed. Was it allowed to make love in the morning?
He leaned in, stopping with his lips merely a hairbreadth from hers. She licked her lower lip, then her upper. Yes, she thought, do kiss me. Forget the silly rule. His gaze seemed to be searching hers as though sifting through her soul. He angled his head slightly. She held her breath. Waiting. Waiting.
He tweaked her nose. “You look adorable.”
Before she could respond, he grabbed her hand. “Come along. We’re going to miss it if we don’t hasten.”
They clattered down the stairs, no doubt waking up all the servants. He led her through the front door and down the steps to where the horses waited. With ease, he boosted her onto the saddle. She sat there feeling . . . well, feeling everything between her thighs. How scandalous. A woman’s knees should never be so far apart except when her husband was— She cut off the thought. She’d already sent that bit of behavior to perdition when taking a short-term lover. She was beginning to realize that Ainsley was indeed a lover.
“What do you think?” he asked as he mounted his own horse.
“Much more comfortable than a sidesaddle.”
“I should think so. Let’s give this a go.”
Although she was unfamiliar riding in this position, she didn’t find it difficult to guide the horse. They were soon loping over the land. The wind brushed over her face. She’d always wanted to ride astride, and here she was doing it. Walfort would no doubt object, but who was she hurting? And who was there to see?
The moon along with the glowing lantern that Ainsley carried guided their way. Even his silhouette cut a fine figure on a horse. Once again, as when he’d vaulted the hedgerow after she took a tumble with Cassie, he was at ease, comfortable, master of the beast. She would enjoy seeing him ride at a full gallop. Perhaps at next year’s fox hunt she would ride with him. Even as she thought it she realized that by next year’s country party, everything would be different. Would he even come? Would she ever see him again?
Waking Up With the Duke Page 16