Beastly Lords Collection Books 1 - 3: A Regency Historical Romance Collection

by Sydney Jane Baily

  After a moment’s hesitation, she thrust the newspaper from her lap and stood. “Very well.”

  Oddly, she no longer seemed tearful. Stomping to a writing desk against the far wall, she yanked open the top drawer and withdrew a piece of paper. A quill sat in an inkwell upon the desk. Snatching this up, Maude dripped ink all over the paper as she scratched out a name before sanding the words and folding the note.

  Returning to Simon, she held it out to him with little grace. “My lord.”

  He took the paper, fighting off the temptation to read it while in her presence. That show of mistrust would be too insulting for both of them.

  “And you avow you do not know the owner of Jonling Hall and you know nothing of Tobias doing anything untoward regarding keeping the Devere accounts.”

  “I know nothing,” she declared, lying through her teeth.

  “Very well. I bid you good day.” With that, Simon offered her a small bow of his head and left. Refraining from unfolding the page until he was in his own study, he did so as soon as he entered the room.

  “Ballocks!”

  Almost illegibly, she’d written, Sir Agravain.

  *

  “He’s here!” Eleanor yelled from upstairs where she’d installed herself as lookout on Jenny’s bed.

  Though for some reason everyone around her seemed in an agitated state, Jenny felt exceedingly calm. Everything had fallen into place and seemed precisely as it should. Her future and those of her sisters were secured, and all because she hadn’t run in the opposite direction out of fear of the unknown. Lord Despair had turned out to be neither a madman nor one of Perrault’s ogres, but a perfectly wonderful man.

  Greeting him at the door, she experienced an overwhelming surge of affection. Whereas previously, she’d tempered her emotions when it came to Simon Devere, now Jenny gave them free rein and found they were strong and deep.

  Hoping he felt the same, she smiled and gestured for him to enter.

  “It’s good to see you again,” she offered and was answered with a broad grin.

  “Yes,” he agreed. “I know it has only been a few hours, but I found myself urging my horse to a faster gallop.”

  “Everyone is waiting for you on the back terrace. I hope you don’t mind sitting outside. Also, we have only wine or sherry. Nothing stronger.”

  By the time she finished her short welcoming speech, they had walked the depth of the house and were stepping outside together. Her mother and Maggie were exactly as Jenny had left them when she’d scampered inside at hearing Eleanor’s yell.

  As the ladies started to rise, Simon hurried forth to take Lady Blackwood’s hand. “Please, don’t get up on my account.”

  Bowing briefly over Anne’s knuckles, he then moved to Maggie, who immediately outstretched her hand and wiggled her fingers at him.

  “Such a pleasure to see you again, Lord Lindsey.”

  Jenny had to hold back a chuckle at her sister playing the lady, as if men arriving and kissing her hand was a regular occurrence.

  Still, she thought it dear of Simon to do it.

  “And where is the third Blackwood sister?” he asked. “For I cannot begin until the whole family is present.”

  “Here I am,” Eleanor said, rushing onto the terrace and practically skidding to a halt before dropping into a low curtsey in front of the earl.

  “How is Thunder today, Miss Eleanor?” the earl asked her.

  “We are keeping his eyes covered, my lord, as you instructed. And he seems calmer, I think. Your stable boy is very nice, too.”

  Jenny startled. This was the first she’d heard that Eleanor had noticed their temporary help. Exchanging a glance with her mother, Jenny wondered if she should send him back for a more surly one.

  However, her youngest sister added, “And your horse, my lord, is most magnificent. I’ve never seen such a beautiful animal.” And with Eleanor’s tone being much more enthusiastic over Luster than over the boy, Jenny instantly relaxed.

  Simon laughed softly. “I’m glad you approve. Will you sit with us?”

  Once the ladies were all seated, Simon took up a position, standing between Lady Blackwood and Jenny.

  “You may already know why I have come.”

  Indeed, Eleanor’s giggles gave away what they all knew.

  Simon continued, “I have asked Miss Blackwood for her hand in marriage, and she has graciously agreed to be my wife. The only blight on our happiness is that I didn’t have the privilege of making the request to Baron Blackwood, nor get to meet the man who created such a lovely family.”

  Jenny’s heart swelled with affection for the earl. How extraordinarily kind of him to bring her father into this proposal and to elevate Lucien Blackwood back to his status as cherished patriarch, rather than disgraced debtor.

  A hush had fallen over her sisters, and her mother dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief daintily pulled from its concealment in the sleeve of her gown.

  The earl addressed Anne. “In the absence of your husband, Lady Blackwood, I hope you will see your way clear to allow me the honor of marrying your daughter. I vow to take care of her for the rest of my life.”

  Jenny felt tears prick at her eyes. Though never having considered she needed to be taken care of, she appreciated Simon’s sentiment. Moreover, it was the perfect declaration to make to her mother, who’d feared for her daughters’ futures. Anne could be at ease, at least regarding her eldest.

  “Where and when?” Maggie asked, breaking the serious tone and reverting to her less ladylike, more direct self.

  Without hesitation, Simon answered, “At Belton Chapel and as soon as the banns have been read.”

  “Why such haste?” Again, Maggie being Maggie! Jenny tried to catch her eye to fix her with an admonishing look, but her sister managed to avoid her.

  Simon stood from his bent position next to Lady Blackwood. Turning, he took hold of Jenny’s hand and drew her to stand by his side.

  “Firstly, because everyone important is right here.” He gestured around the table. “Unless you wish to invite extended family from Baron Blackwood’s northern relations. Cousin Ned, perhaps?”

  Jenny laughed. “I think not.”

  Nodding, Simon continued, “We have no need of a large occasion, invaded by hordes of nosey inquisitors, all masquerading as well-wishers whose only motive is to poke through my house and gape at Lord Despair.”

  They were all silent at his use of the cruel moniker.

  “It is no matter, ladies. Yes, I am aware of what I have been called. Yet I am not the same man I was when Miss Blackwood heard me moaning in my room. Am I?” He smiled at her, and she smiled back, mouthing the word no.

  “Where was I? Yes, to the point of haste. I have only an uncle, whom I am certain will not be insulted by missing a few moments in the chapel and a wedding luncheon, especially as I’ve determined we will call on him during our wedding trip. Which leads me to the second reason for marrying sooner rather than later, because this delightful woman has an exceedingly good brain. In lieu of a frivolous honeymoon trek that accomplishes nothing, Miss Blackwood—by then, Lady Lindsey—and I shall tour the Devere holdings. Jenny is going to take a look at all the accounts.”

  “How romantic,” Maggie muttered, and Eleanor giggled again while Anne tried to hush them both.

  Taken aback, Simon looked doubtful for the first time. “Unless that displeases you,” he said to Jenny, “in which case, we shall take a wedding trip to Paris first.”

  “No,” she protested. “We don’t want to go traipsing off to the continent while your estate is in disorder, do we?”

  Glaring at Maggie for bringing romance into the perfectly acceptable marriage proposal and wedding plans, she squeezed Simon’s hand encouragingly. After all, there would be room enough for romance and, she hoped, love later on. There was certainly already passion. Why not assume love would follow?

  Embracing her practical nature, she saw no reason why they couldn’t put the De
vere house in order. “We will take the ledgers with us and see if we can’t straighten out a few things.”

  Meanwhile, she was enjoying the feeling of Simon’s fingers interlaced with her own ungloved hand. His warm skin against her only reminded her of what delights were to come. If she were to confess her innermost feelings, which she would not, she’d have to say she was already in love with Simon Devere.

  However, as inexperienced as she was in the ways of desire, she wondered if she loved him because of the sensations he created in her body. Or, rather, if he made her feel so tingly because she already loved him.

  As long as she was marrying him and getting to explore all these new tantalizing feelings, she could not care a whit.

  “A toast,” Lady Blackwood said.

  They all reached for a glass of wine, including Eleanor.

  Standing, Anne raised her glass. “To the newest member of our family.” She nodded to the earl, then smiled at her daughter. “And to a long and happy marriage for the Earl and soon-to-be Countess of Belton.”

  Jenny’s heart skipped a beat. How strange to hear herself called Countess. What a day it had been! Looking at her beloved family, she could only hope for similar happiness for her sisters.

  *

  Spending not even a single night in her new home, Jenny looked longingly at Belton Manor as it disappeared from sight through the rear window of their coach. She had married Simon that morning, two weeks to the day after the banns, with only her family, Maude Devere’s children, and both their households’ servants filling the pews.

  Now, changed from her new gown of peach silk, purchased and altered in Nottingham specially for her wedding, into a rich, blue wool travelling gown, Jenny glanced at her new husband. Her husband!

  Simon was as dashing in his travelling clothes as he had been in the chapel, in slate gray with a white ascot.

  An early celebratory feast, replete with one of Cook’s enormous almond and fruit cakes infused with brandy, had left Jenny feeling full and lethargic. Ensconced in the earl’s luxurious clarence, they would not stop until they reached the market town of Wirksworth. Their first night as husband and wife would be spent in a small country manor that had been in the Devere family for generations.

  Simon promised the start of their journey, at least, would be like a traditional wedding trip. Moreover, each night would be like a honeymoon, he’d added in a low tone for her ears only as they left their well-wishers behind.

  “What has you smiling so delightfully?” he asked her as the horses picked up the pace.

  Jenny blinked at him. She could hardly confess it was the idea of going to bed with him that night. However, the more she’d read from Aristotle’s Masterpiece during the days between their engagement and the marriage ceremony, the more curious and excited she’d become. If done correctly, she read, the act of copulation could be very enjoyable. Moreover, she had a feeling, simply from how wonderfully Simon kissed her, her husband would make love quite skillfully enough for both of them to enjoy it.

  “When are we stopping?”

  His eyes widened, and she knew in an instant he was aware of where her thoughts had taken her. In the next moment, his handsome mouth stretched slowly into a slightly lopsided grin. He crossed to her side of the carriage and sat close, draping his arm behind her.

  Simon encased her in warmth and affection, and as his free hand touched her cheek, turning her face toward him, her entire body began to tingle.

  “Mayhap we don’t have to wait until we stop for the night to begin our honeymoon.”

  Her face heated. “Here?” she asked, glancing nervously around the interior.

  True, the carriage was plush and spacious. However, the book had indicated they needed a few items for successful lovemaking. Hen eggs, almonds, and parsnips would cause Simon’s “yard” to rise to the occasion. And surely, she needed space to recline in the correct position to receive him.

  On the other hand, the manual indicated simply by engaging in the act that occupied her thoughts, she and Simon would feel better in every way, in mind and body. It sounded like a cure-all.

  But here, in his carriage?

  Chapter Eighteen

  “I think I would prefer our first time to be rather more comfortable,” Simon admitted before Jenny could express her own doubts. “Especially for your sake. However, there is nothing to stop us enjoying ourselves for the next few hours.”

  With that, he leaned down and kissed her. Immediately, his hand dropped from her cheek to the underswell of her breasts, palming one in his large hand.

  She nearly squeaked against his mouth at his bold touch.

  At his tongue’s insistence, she opened her lips and let him inside. Long moments passed—how much time, she had no idea—during which he kissed her and fondled her gently while she tried to touch him anywhere she could through his traveling clothes. Heat pooled unbearably in her lower regions.

  Realizing she was squirming with frustration, Jenny broke their kiss, breathed deeply, and asked, “How long do you think it will be before we arrive at Wirksworth?”

  Simon chuckled. “I am rethinking the idea of comfort, too, my lady. Perhaps if you lifted your skirts and sat upon my lap.”

  Her face heated even more furiously.

  “You still blush, sweet Genevieve, even as my wife. I like that.”

  “The daylight,” she murmured.

  He sighed, and reaching past her, deftly attached the shade, then did the same on his side as well as the front. They were plunged into near utter darkness.

  “What think you?”

  She thought this was the strangest situation. Yes, she wanted him and wanted to experience everything she’d read about. However, she was still somewhat frightened. Not to mention shy. And his coachman was a mere foot away in the front and a footman in the back. No doubt they could hear every word and everything else, too, such as a moan or a scream. And what if a horse threw its shoe at precisely the wrong moment, causing the carriage to reel wildly and one of them got hurt?

  Yanking her shade back down, she let the lovely brocade fabric hang, flapping nearly to the floor.

  “I think I am too practical for my own good.”

  He tilted his head in query.

  “I’m sorry, my lord. My mind is attending to the situation at hand, to the men nearby, even to the potential for you or I to be injured.”

  At his expression, she added, “Do not laugh at me.”

  “Never,” he said, though he looked to be holding back from doing exactly that. “Dearest Jenny, I dare say there is nothing unusual about your reticence. I also believe after some experience, you shall come to enjoy engaging in our marital rights even here in our carriage, as much as elsewhere. For now, let’s simply anticipate the evening before us.”

  With that, he pulled her to his side and leaned his chin upon the top of her head.

  “I for one will do precisely that until the moment I can be alone with you.”

  Grateful for his understanding, Jenny relaxed against him. After a moment, she asked a question about his childhood, and they spent pleasurable hours talking before she drifted off to sleep.

  The carriage coming to a halt awakened her. She found her head upon his shoulder and her hands clasping his lapels, with his arms around her.

  Feeling wool-headed, she sat up. “I must have drifted off.”

  “You did. As did I, until a gentle beaver began gnawing wood close by.”

  She looked up at him, then realization dawned on her. Gasping, she covered her mouth with her hand. “I snore?”

  “You do. Charmingly in fact.”

  How could he find such an unladylike habit to be charming?

  “In any case,” he added, “we have arrived.”

  At that moment, the footman opened the door and helped her down the leather-clad folding steps into the dim light of a warm evening.

  Oh, but it was lovely to stand and stretch, even if she was on display upon the gravel drive of H
opton House. Updated from a once-simple fieldstone dwelling to an elegant three-bay residence, at the moment, Jenny cared not what the house was like, as long as she was on solid ground and standing straight.

  Watching Simon exit the carriage and raise his long arms overhead, she hoped he would be willing to take a refreshing walk after they greeted his staff.

  *

  That night, they dined on a meal of minced beef with egg garnish, glazed carrots, and pureed cauliflower. The eggs, Jenny knew, were the cook’s way of stimulating her fertility.

  Glancing at her new husband as she swallowed a delicious morsel, her gaze caught his, revealing all the tamped down desire shining fiercely in his eyes.

  “You take my breath away,” Simon told her.

  “As do you,” she confessed.

  In moments, they were mounting the main stairs to their bedroom. As soon as he closed the door behind them, he took her in his arms.

  “You were quite right in the carriage. This is how I want us to enjoy each other, where I can strip you completely and lay you across that decadently thick mattress.”

  Her heartbeat drummed at his words, and she looked toward the bed, which was already turned down and did seem about six times the normal thickness. A small fire crackled in the hearth to warm the room even though it was late summer. No doubt the staff had taken into account they would be quickly unclothed. There was a decanter of claret on the bedside table and two glasses. Everything was perfect.

  “May I help you undress?” Simon asked, his hands already roaming over her back and up her sides.

  “Yes, please.” Was her voice so husky? She coughed slightly to clear it. “If I may do the same for you.”

  As if unwrapping presents at Christmas, they took turns. Her spencer jacket, his cravat, her travelling gown, his waistcoat and suspenders. They paused, each to remove their footwear, her satin pumps, his boots.