by Em Taylor
She stilled and raised curious eyes to him.
“Is that…?” She moved her arm until it was her hand touching him through the buckskin of his breeches. He stifled a groan.
“My…uh… manhood, yes.”
She spanned it with her hand. It was just about the same length. She raised her hand towards her face and her mouth dropped open. The absurdity of the situation made him guffaw.
She was the most hilarious creature he had ever met. He adored her.
“I… That is not possible.” She frowned and moved away from him.”
“What is not possible?”
“I have seen statues in art galleries my lord. I am not so innocent that I have not seen statues.”
He chuckled. “First of all, those statues are, um… how shall I put it? They are not aroused. They have not been in a rocking carriage with a beautiful woman in their arms who smells divine.” She huffed out a breath and eyed the now uncovered placket of his breeches warily. “Secondly, they always sculpted those poor fellows extremely under-endowed. Perhaps the sculptors were trying to impress by making their own look bigger. Who can tell.”
She was shaking her head, her eyes wide, her chin bobbing as she swallowed.
“We cannot marry, my lord.”
“Why ever not?”
“My lord, I may be innocent but I grew up on a country estate. The bulls and cows do not care if a curious young girl watches them mating. I understand the general…” she waved her hands about as if trying to find the right words. “That will not fit inside me.”
She placed her hand on her heaving chest and swallowed hard. How could he reassure her? She looked like she was about to open the carriage door and flee.
“Emily, did you ever see any of the baby animals being born?”
“Yes.” She frowned, looking at him warily as if he was possibly fit for Bedlam.
“That’s the same opening that is used for mating. The one the calf or piglet or the lamb comes out. Or in a human’s case, the one the baby comes out.”
She nodded. He had a feeling Emily had suspected this but not fully worked it out. “The opening stretches. You will be able to accept me into your body. And Emily…” He waited until she met his gaze. She was biting her lip and her cheeks were tinged a delicate shade of pink. “You shall enjoy it immensely. As I said, the first time may be painful but after that, you should find as much pleasure from the act as I do.”
She looked down at her hands and he waited. He needed to give her time to compose her thoughts, he decided.
“Do you think me terribly foolish?”
“Why would I think you foolish?”
“I feel foolish because I do not understand what happens between wives and husbands, and your… manhood. It frightens me a little.”
“I think you are exceedingly brave to be so honest about something which few ladies would discuss with their fiancé, Emily, but I am pleased to be able to put your mind at ease. We have a long journey ahead of us, and I would hate for you to spend it worrying about our wedding night.”
“You say I shall like it after the first time.”
“If you do not, then it is my fault and I am a terrible lover, but I have had no complaints before.”
It was almost as if he could see his words settle on her and, as she made sense of them, the little green monster of jealousy rose within her. Her chin jutted forward ever so slightly and she lifted her head.
“I am sure you have not, my lord.”
Damn. That had been crass.
“I apologise, Emily.”
“No need to apologise. Men have needs. I understand.”
He tugged her against him and kissed her temple.
“Come, let us sleep some more. There is another hour until we stop for breakfast. Do not be vexed with me.”
“I am not vexed with you.”
“It is a sin to tell untruths, Emily.”
“It is also a sin to run off with men in their carriages, my lord.”
“If you can find me the verse in the Bible where it says that, I will buy you a new ball gown.”
“Now you are vexing me, my lord.”
“You are vexing me as you refuse to call me Gideon.”
“Yes, I am, my lord.”
He chuckled as he pressed his lips to her temple.
Chapter 10
Although she had slept for a large part of the day, Emily felt exhausted when they stopped at the inn for the evening. There were still plenty of daylight hours left but the horses were wet, tired and the coachman was not at all happy about pushing them any farther that day. Gideon had agreed, deciding that on such a long journey, it was better to proceed with caution, especially given the state of the roads.
They had taken a few long breaks at coaching inns, giving the horses long breaks and Gideon was pleased with their progress. This was a small, not very popular coaching inn and Gideon had told the innkeeper they were called Mr and Mrs Smith. Emily could not help but think he lacked originality.
He had managed to organise a pair of rooms for them and some beds in the servants’ quarters for the coachman and their stable hand. Their rooms adjoined each other with a connecting door.
The innkeeper led them first to Emily’s room and gave her the key. He then led Gideon a little farther down the hall to his own room. Emily was no stranger to such establishments but she had never been alone in one with a gentleman.
She laid her valise on the bed and sat at the dressing table inspecting her appearance in the looking glass. She was rather bedraggled looking. Her hair was sticking out from the pins she had jabbed into it this morning at all sorts of angles, it was damp in some places and dry in others. Her cheeks looked terribly flushed and her pelisse was all crumpled. There would be a maid who could press it, she was sure.
A light knock on the connecting door made her jump. She closed her eyes and wished-for patience.
“Come,” she answered.
He stood there in the doorway, his jacket off, his shirt sleeves rolled up and his hair slightly mussed from his hat. How could he still look so handsome when she looked like she had been dragged through a hedge by wild horses?
“I have organised a private parlour for our dinner, a maid to help you to bed and to help you dress in the morning. She can help you with any clothing you need to have pressed or cleaned.”
“Thank you.”
“I apologise. This cannot be comfortable for you.”
“It is fine. I am used to inns. You cannot travel to London every Season from Cumbria and not use inns.”
“Do you need the maid to style your hair before dinner?” She did. It was in a terrible state. She hesitated, not wanting to be a burden. “I can see that you want to say yes. I will arrange it for you. Never be afraid to ask for something. I have money. Things are a little tighter than I would like but I do have coin.”
“Thank you.”
He scowled at her pelisse. “Are you planning on going for a walk?”
“No.”
“A carriage ride?”
“No.”
“Why are you still wearing your pelisse?”
“I had not got around to removing it yet.”
“Please, let me assist you.”
He moved behind her and she undid the buttons. As his large hands slipped under the material and met the bare skin that her carriage dress did not cover, she shivered. He placed the pelisse over the chair then took her by the shoulders and pulled her back flush against his front. He snaked his arms around her waist and lowered his chin to her shoulder. She could feel the rasp of his day beard on her bare skin. Emily held back a shudder of anticipation.
“My lord?”
“Everyone in this inn thinks we are married.” His soft, wet lips nuzzled her neck for a moment. “Forgive me, Emily. Your head has been lying on my chest all day. I just want a moment to savour my fiancée.” Without knowing what she was doing she
moved her hands behind them both to his backside and urged him harder against her back. The thick rod of his manhood dug into the small of her back and he groaned as he sucked the lobe of her ear into his mouth and bit gently.
“Gideon,”
“Emily.” He breathed deeply and then sighed. “I fear moving. If I move I have to let you go, or else I shall start to kiss you. If I start to kiss you I shall not stop. I need you but… I know I must wait. I know it is the gentlemanly thing to do, even if we will be wed in a few days’ time.”
Emily’s heart was racing. “Is it very bad if I want you to kiss me?”
“No.” His voice was rough and Emily was sure he was only just hanging on to his control. “But I need you to know I did not whisk you away from your aunt just so I could ravish you. Do you understand.”
“I know. You are concerned about your people. You need to go up to Cumbria.”
“I do, but a marriage should be based on more than just sex.”
Emily burned with embarrassment at the mention of the word sex. It was such a common word.
“I see.”
“Do you? We should have companionship, friendship and admiration.”
“Do these things not need to grow.”
He chuckled. “Well, my love, something grows quite easily when you’re around.”
Emily had no idea what he meant until he thrust his hips slightly and his manhood prodded her harder in the back. Was he talking about that? It grew when he was ready to consummate?
“Oh.”
“Oh indeed. Perhaps we should find something to do before our evening meal.”
He let her go and she heaved a sigh of relief.
“You could order tea and then you could read to me. I have brought my embroidery.”
“How terribly stimulating.”
She glanced out at the weather outside. “Well, you could teach me boxing, I suppose.”
He let out a bark of laughter and her gaze met his.
“I did bring a deck of cards. Perhaps later we could play vingt-et-un,” he said.
“Ooh, can we play for money?”
“Money? What sort of young lady plays for money.”
“The sort of young lady whose betrothed would never come to collect his debts.”
“Oh, I always collect my debts, Lady Emily. I may just take payment in kind.” He wiggled his eyebrows almost imperceptibly but she felt the heat in her belly anyway.
“I…I…do not know what you mean.” Her gaze met his and she could see the moment he read the fib in her eyes. The corners of his mouth lifted into a cat-like smile.
“I am sure an innocent young lady like yourself does not, but fear not, my lady, you will gain as much pleasure from my winnings as I shall.”
What was it about the way he said the word pleasure that made her almost crumble to the floor with watery knees?
He strode to the bell pull and Emily wondered what he was doing. When a maid came, he ordered tea, her mind began to clear. Oh yes. Tea. That would give her some sense of normalcy.
“My Lord, the things you say to me… they are not proper.”
He chuckled.
“I should apologise Emily but a day in a carriage with you clinging to my side has almost made me fit for Bedlam. I…” His mouth twisted as if he was choosing his words carefully. “I agreed to marry you out of duty. I could see you were pretty enough, had good breeding and although sometimes…”
“Clumsy, outspoken and a little bit airheaded?” she offered.
“You are far from airheaded. You seem very intelligent, and I like outspoken. Yes, you are outspoken. You do sometimes act without thinking, or else we would not be in this situation. I have not noticed you particularly clumsy.”
“Oh, you will.”
He waved it away. “Nevertheless, I have grown to have a high regard for you. When I kissed you in the summer house I realised I was extremely attracted to you., and that attraction is growing all the time. This enforced time together in the carriage shall be difficult if this keeps getting more intense. If I am crass, it is because I cannot let it out in other ways. It is because I cannot take you to bed and show you what I wish to do to you. Perhaps before our meal, when the maid is doing your hair, I shall go down to the taproom and have an ale with the men. Some bawdy discussion may help.”
“I was intrigued by you when you were asleep. You looked so peaceful. Your valet had not noticed your hand was dreadfully infected. Honestly, Gideon, the man is a terrible valet.” Gideon waved off her concerns. “Well, then I thought you were a brute. As high handed as my aunt. Demanding that I marry you. Then demanding that we elope. I do understand why we must and I do understand that it is my fault. I feel like such a ninny. When you talk about pleasure and the consummation of our marriage vows, I feel even more of a ninny. I do not understand most of what you say. You talk of… it growing?” She waved her hands in despair. “If it grows any more, I shall break apart. You tell me it will be fine but…but…but…” She was struggling to breathe. Had Martha tied her stays too tight? She wanted to cast up her accounts and swoon all at the same time. And she was not the type of lady who swooned.
He took her hands and crouched slightly so he could look into her eyes.
“Breathe slowly, Emily. You will have a fit of the vapours if you are not careful. All is well.”
“It is fine for you to say all is well. You have not been spirited away to have some enormous pole pushed into your body.”
He began to laugh and pulled her into his arms. She struggled for a moment then realised his hold was too tight. Besides, she found comfort from the shaking of his large frame.
“It does not get any larger than it was when you measured it against your hand in the carriage. It does get smaller when I am not aroused by the scent of you, by your nearness, by the very thought of you. My dearest Emily, women have been having sex with gentlemen for centuries and none of them has come to any harm. Child bed may be another matter but that’s the cycle of life, unfortunately.” He sounded sober now and his laughter had stopped. Yes, child bed was no laughing matter. It was dangerous, but so was riding in a carriage, walking downstairs and crossing a busy street. “Please Emily, do not fret about our wedding night. I shall make it as pleasurable for you as possible. Despite what you may have thought of me at first, I am not a brute. I shall take care of you.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist and held tight. “I know you are not a brute. You have been very kind and nothing but a gentleman. These are not ideal circumstances. I do apologise that you have ended up having to marry me because of my foolish behaviour.”
“I had to marry anyway. My parents had a love match I am told, but I have little regard for such things. I am a practical man. My father had many flights of fancy and he died a poor man. Luckily for us, I had my own investments so we are not poor. I shall be happy to be content. I am attracted to you, you are a young lady of good ton, and I believe we shall deal well together. You amuse me and I believe I shall keep you on your toes.”
She pulled back and regarded him for a moment. He cocked his head in question.
“The gentlemen I have encountered are generally one of two types, the ones who have enough money that they do not need a young lady’s dowry and so put off getting a ‘leg-shackle’ as long as they can. Usually, as long as they can avoid their own mamas in ballrooms and before their mamas become more cunning than they. Then there are those who need a dowry and will fawn all over any young lady who has a decent enough one. I have been the object of affection for one or two of those gentlemen but Robert or Aunt Gertrude usually steered me away. Which was just as well really. Poetry written out of desperation for money really is rather awful.”
“Wait, the gentleman wrote poetry?”
“Two did, and let me tell you, Lord Byron may have left the country under a cloud of scandal which I cannot quite fathom, but at least he could actually write poetry. I do wish someone
would explain what happened with Lord Byron though.”
“I promise you, Emily, my dear. When you are no longer an innocent, I shall explain to you why Lord Byron had to leave the country.”
“You shall?”
Emily knew no one who understood the scandal of Lord Byron—at least, no one who was willing to admit it.
“Only if you promise not to breathe a word to anyone. Especially not to any unmarried ladies.”
“I promise.” She may enjoy being a married lady after all if she was privy to all the salacious gossip of the ton. She hadn’t considered that.
“Emily, you really are a little gossip,” he teased.
She giggled just as the maid knocked and brought in the tea.
Chapter 11
Emily had been rather quiet at dinner. He had talked about his childhood a little and asked her about hers in Cumbria, but she had not been terribly forthcoming. She did mention her brother a lot as if she felt his childhood was more important than her own. That saddened him a little.
He had asked what she liked to read and for a moment her face had lit up as she’d admitted that she loved reading. When he’d asked what books she enjoyed, she had looked down and said quietly, “Oh, nothing of much interest, my lord.”
His heart had wrenched for her. One minute the chit was confident and gregarious, the next, she was a little mouse, denying herself and being critical almost of her own existence. He remembered her description of herself as clumsy. He had not noticed her being clumsy particularly, but he had not spent much time in her company.
They finished their meal and were climbing the small narrow staircase, Emily just two steps ahead of him when she missed her footing and fell onto her hands.”
“Ooft! Oh, devil take it.” He doubted he had ever heard a young lady use such a curse, but he recovered. Moved up beside her and helped her. She was already halfway back to her feet.
“My lady, are you well?”
“I am fine. I apologise for my foul language, my lord. I told you I was clumsy. I did not tell you I swore like the coal man.”