She brought her knee up with all the force she could muster and saw her brother’s eyes bulge, heard the odd, squeaky sound he made as he expelled air from his lungs before falling to the ground, clutching his privates and moaning.
Breathing hard, she didn’t wait around to see if he got up again but scanned her surroundings, looking for something heavy to wield. Someone had been cutting wood in the field beyond the trees and she hurried forward, finding a long, slim branch from an oak tree that was stacked ready to be cut to size.
By the time she reached Ned, she saw to her satisfaction that one man was already out cold, and it looked as if Ned had broken the nose of one of the two who were still standing. To her horror, however, she saw they both carried knives, and that Ned was bleeding.
No.
No.
They must have assumed that her brother could subdue one, small female and were intent on the greater danger before them, as they never even glanced in her direction. Ned looked dangerous indeed. She’d never seen such a look of rage in his eyes and, by the wary manner of the men, were circling him they weren’t underestimating it either. Whether or not he wanted or needed, her help was neither here nor there, however. Ned was in trouble, and she was damned if she’d sit meekly by while these sorry excuses for men outnumbered him.
Moving as quietly as her rustling skirts would allow, she hefted the narrow log in both hands and swung it with all her might. It struck the back of the man’s skull with a sickening thud that reverberated all the way up her arms and sent her stumbling backwards. She fell to the ground in an ungainly heap, but watched as her victim also fell, thudding to the earth like a stone, and she experienced a surge of triumph.
Too late, she looked up to see his companion lunging for her, his knife raised and a snarl on his face. She gasped and scrambled backwards but, before he could get close, Ned appeared and tackled the man to the ground with the force of a raging bull. They went down hard and the knife went flying, then all Grace could hear was the steady, thwack, thwack as Ned hit the man over and again.
“Ned,” she cried, running to him. “Ned, stop! You’ll kill him.”
Not that she cared for the man’s sake particularly, but she’d not let Ned live with such a thing on his conscience.
Ned seemed to be beyond the sound of her voice, though, and for a moment nothing reached him.
“Ned,” she said again. “Ned, please….”
Her voice trembled and broke and then he stopped, looking around at her as she burst into tears.
“Gracie,” he said, the man beneath his fists forgotten at once as he pushed to his feet and ran to her. “Gracie, love, are ye hurt?”
“N-No….” she stammered, brushing his arms away as he tried to hold her so that she could run her hands over him. “B-But you are,” she sobbed, terrified that there was some dreadful injury beneath the blood-soaked shirt.
“’Tis not my blood, love,” he said, smiling a little as he tugged her back into his arms. “I broke the fellow’s nose, and he bled like a stuck pig.”
“You’re sure?” she demanded, putting her hands to his face. “You’re not hurt?”
He gave an impatient bark of laughter and hauled her into his arms, holding her so tight she couldn’t breathe. “A few bruises, no more. Oh, God. Oh, Grace. I thought I’d lost ye.”
His voice trembled a little, and she buried her face in his chest, breathing in the reassuring scent of him and listening to the rapid beat of his heart.
She was released just as suddenly and she stumbled, turning in shock to see why he’d moved away. Her brother was scrambling to his feet, but in three quick strides Ned closed the distance between them and hauled him up by his cravat. Harold looked like a rag doll in Ned’s powerful grasp, especially when Ned slammed him up against the nearest tree.
Her brother gasped and choked, his feet swinging a good four inches from the ground.
“You bastard,” Ned raged. “You miserable excuse for a man! I should wring your blasted neck and rid the world of a worthless cur.”
Harold whimpered and clawed at Ned’s fist to no avail.
“I know your kind,” Ned said with disgust. “Ye are a bully, willing enough to torment those who cannot fight back, but a coward when it comes to a real fight. Carrington is the same. Ye may tell him to come and face me, if he dares, but if I ever… ever set eyes on ye again, I’ll end your miserable life, my word upon it.”
Ned shook him again, his voice dropping to something low and feral. “I’ll come for ye when ye least expect it, and I’ll make sure ye die like the maggot ye are and feed what’s left to my pigs. Ye will not trouble my wife again and ye may tell Carrington I’ll come for him too, if he thinks to plot to take what is mine from me. If I ever hear either of ye breathe a word against Grace or do anything, anything, that upsets her, I’ll make ye wish ye had never been born.” He tightened his grip on Harold’s cravat and her brother gasped and gaped, his eyes bulging. “Have I made myself clear?”
For a moment he released his hold, enough that Harold could nod and gasp something that seemed like acceptance of Ned’s terms.
“Don’t forget it,” Ned warned, or I might feel the need to visit my brother-in-law with some of my friends and remind ye of everything I just said.
“W-Won’t forget,” Harold gasped, terror in his eyes. “Swear it.”
“Damn right,” Ned said giving him another little shake. “And ye will take care the filth ye brought with ye today are dealt with, and sent back to whatever hole in the ground they crawled out of.”
“Y-Yes.”
Ned released his hold and Harold fell from his grasp to land in a heap at his feet. For a long moment, Ned stood staring down at him, clenching and unclenching his fists, his desire to hurt Harold more than he already had so palpable that Grace held her breath.
Harold trembled and covered his head with his hands and began to cry, and Grace watched as Ned took a deep breath and turned away in disgust.
She ran to him and he held her in his arms, held her tight and safe as he kissed the top of her head.
“Let’s go home, love,” he said.
They did as Grace had proposed that morning when they returned to the farm, and she hurried to light the fires while Ned saw to the horse and checked on the other animals. By the time he’d finished and come in, she was sitting in his bed wearing nothing but a smile. Ned could hardly draw a breath as he paused in the doorway to stare at the sight of her, his beautiful wife. Her golden hair fell in lush waves and glimmered in the warm light of the fire and the single candle that burned on the nightstand. Her skin glowed too, the generous curves of her breasts making his mouth water far more than the tray she’d set before her, loaded with bread and cheese, a jar of pickle and some apples. Nonetheless, his stomach growled as he realised he’d not eaten since they’d breakfasted at The Stag.
“A picnic in bed?” he said, feeling his heart lift at the sight of her as desire blazed a path to his manly parts with the force of a lightning strike. “Now, why didn’t I think of that?”
“Well, it was your picnic downstairs that inspired me,” she said, tugging back the covers on his side of the bed and patting the mattress invitingly. “So I can’t take all the credit.”
He grinned at her and made short work of shrugging out of his clothes, marvelling at the way she sat naked and unashamed before him, and delighting in the pleasure she took in watching him undress.
Ned slid beneath the covers, and pulled her to him, desire rising like a tide as her silky skin touched his. He kissed her slow and deep, but she laughed and pushed him away.
“Eat first,” she insisted. “I could hear your stomach complaining when you were still downstairs.”
He huffed and protested, and she stuffed a piece of cheese into his mouth.
“Eat, you stubborn creature,” she said, laughing as he chewed and swallowed and then lunged for her, pretending to take a bite from her shoulder.
“I’d rather e
at this tender flesh,” he murmured, kissing a path up her neck.
She sighed and tilted her head to allow him to continue.
“I’ll be the dessert,” she offered, and then Ned heard her stomach growl too.
“Ye only had to say ye were famished,” he remonstrated, and she smiled and kissed his nose.
“I know, but this way was more fun.”
They cleared the tray in no time at all and, once Ned had removed it from the bed, Grace leant back against his chest with a happy sigh.
“That’s better,” she said.
Ned held her, quiet as he remembered the moments before her brother’s thugs had attacked them. He remembered everything she’d said about how happy she was, how she loved him and looked forward to their lives together, and about how he must not imagine he knew what it was she wanted or needed better than she did. He stroked the golden tresses that tickled his chest and remembered the rest of it too, and frowned.
“Gracie,” he said, trying to puzzle out what she’d meant to say before her brother had tried to ruin everything. “What did ye mean before, when ye spoke of Sarah?”
He felt her stiffen a little in his arms and shifted them both so he could look into her eyes.
“Ye said some nonsense about making a mess or not being like Sarah.”
She looked away from him a small frown between her eyebrows. Ned reached out and smoothed it away with a fingertip. “Gracie, ye promised to tell me if anything made ye unhappy.”
Grace turned back to him and let out a little huff. “I’m not unhappy, foolish man. Indeed, I’m horribly selfish and jealous, and you ought not put up with it or pander to it. Really, it’s nothing.”
“Jealous?” he said, incredulous and not a little intrigued to know what the devil she was on about. “What in blazes have ye to be jealous of?”
She stared at him as though he was being obtuse.
“What?” he demanded.
He watched as she rolled her eyes at him. “Of Sarah, of course,” she said, and then buried her face in his chest. “I know it’s horrid and I’m a bad person,” she mumbled. “But I’m jealous of the ten years she had with you, and of how good a wife she was to you, and… and I’m frightened I won’t measure up, that… that I’ll not be good enough.”
Ned blinked, so astonished he didn’t know what part of the ridiculous nonsense to address first.
“Gracie,” he said, finding it hard to keep the amusement from his voice as she burrowed further, clinging to him so he couldn’t look her in the eyes. “Gracie!” he protested, eventually resorting to hauling her out and pushing her gently onto her back, holding her down by the wrists.
“Where did ye get such a maggoty idea in yer head?” he demanded, and then his heart broke as he saw her eyes fill and she turned her head away from him. The foolish creature really believed it.
“Gracie, love, listen to me,” he said, his voice gentle. “Ye have it all wrong. I never loved Sarah.”
That got her attention, and he smiled as she stared up at him.
“But when you spoke of your marriage it… it sounded like such a happy partnership, like everything worked perfectly and—”
He snorted. “A business partnership maybe,” he allowed. “And that’s my fault for making it sound a deal happier than it was. Only, I didn’t want ye to think it was my fault, that… that I was a bad husband and didn’t care for her as I should.”
“Oh, Ned, no—”
“She tricked me into marrying her,” he said, not letting her finish.
“What?”
Her blue eyes blazed with indignation and he laughed and pulled her into his arms and told her of the night Sarah had gotten him drunk and taken him into the stables behind the pub he’d been drinking at. Looking back on it, she must have been damned determined, for it had been the only time she’d given herself to him willingly.
“She told me she was with child, so I married her,” he said with a shrug. “But she never wanted me. Her ma had died when she was young and she’d run her father’s farm with him since she was a girl, but then her pa married again, and his new wife took over and put Sarah’s nose out of joint, I reckon.”
“So she decided she’d find another farm to run,” Grace said, looking so furious he could do nothing but smile helplessly at her.
“Aye,” he said, nuzzling into her silky hair and breathing in the sweet scent of her. “But she only wanted the farm, not me. What she wanted most was to lord it over her stepmother and show how successful she’d been in marrying a man with a bigger place than her father. She couldn’t bear it when I touched her, and there never were any children. I barely knew her, Gracie, and I certainly didn’t love her, though I swear I tried. I tried to make things better between us, more like they ought to be, but….”
He shrugged. He’d never been able to figure Sarah out, and he certainly wasn’t going to spend any more time trying.
“Oh, Ned,” Grace said, her eyes filling once again, but for him this time. “Oh, my love, I’m so sorry. You must have been so lonely.”
“Yes,” he said, trailing a fingertip down her cheek. “But I’m grateful now, grateful that things worked out as they did, so that I was here, waiting for ye. For now I know how precious this is, what is between us.”
“Oh,” she said with a sigh. “Ned, you do say the loveliest things.” She snuggled into him again. “Do you… do you think you might love me, then… a little at least?”
He gave a bark of laughter, and turned her onto her back once more. “A little bit!” he exclaimed. “Hell’s bells, woman, do ye not know I’m head over ears in love with ye, foolish creature?” He huffed and shook his head. “A little bit,” he repeated, rolling his eyes.
“Really?” she said, a smile dawning over her lovely mouth that stole his breath and his heart all over again.
“How could ye not know?” he demanded, genuinely perplexed. “Surely ye could see it from the start? Lord knows I couldn’t hide it.”
“I didn’t,” she said, shaking her head. “Truly. I just thought you a lovely man whose nature was to be sweet and kind.”
“Well then.” He moved between her legs and she coiled about him at once, tugging him closer, welcoming him. “I love ye, Gracie,” he said, and then gasped as he slid inside the fierce, slick heat of her. “I love ye with all my heart, I shall worship ye with my body, and I’d do anything, anything at all to make ye happy.”
Grace laughed with delight and tugged at his neck, pulling his head down for a kiss he was more than willing to give her.
“Just love me, Ned,” she said, her head tipping back and her eyes falling closed as he thrust deeper inside her, and the pleasure of it overwhelmed him. “Just love me.”
Epilogue
“Wherein the merriest of Christmas celebrations.”
Grace surveyed the table with satisfaction. The Christmas goose looked splendid, all crisp, golden skin, and trimmed with holly. The potatoes were not burned, and the splendid variety of vegetables were still identifiable as what they had started out being, instead of a pulpy mush. The brawn had been the most disgusting thing she’d ever tackled in her whole life, but she was determined to be a good farmer’s wife, aware she would need a strong stomach at times. So, she’d cleaned and boiled the pig’s head—somehow without casting up her accounts—and made brawn for the first time in her life. It looked just as it ought, and she hoped that she could also be brave enough to actually eat it now she knew how it was made.
There was also a plate piled high with mince pies, and Mrs Tucknott’s impressive Christmas pudding was steaming away merrily. Grace had dutifully fed it with a tot of brandy every day, under Ned’s instruction, and it smelled divine. They’d filled the house with Christmas greenery and the scent of it mingled with the cooking, fresh and clean and wintery. The old farmhouse looked splendid and welcoming, dressed up in its seasonal finery.
The front door banged shut, and she looked up, her heart leaping with anticipation
. It was barely six weeks since she’d met him, but now Grace could imagine no other life than the delightful one she led with her wonderful husband.
“Where’s the lass who lives in this abode?” Ned demanded, his tone gruff as he strode into the kitchen, bringing with him the fresh air smell of the freezing day outside and all the earthy scents of horses and hay and hardworking male that Grace adored.
“Here, sir,” Grace said, dipping a curtsey like a serving maid as Ned grinned at her.
He set down his muddy boots on the cloth by the door and advanced, holding a sprig of mistletoe over his head. “Come here, wench,” he growled as Grace squealed and ran around the kitchen table.
“Oh, no, sir, I must not. I’m a respectable married lady, and my husband is a dangerous and jealous man.”
“But your husband is not here,” Ned replied, waggling his eyebrows in his best theatrical villain imitation. “And I’m in need of a pretty girl to kiss and debauch.”
“He’ll kill you, sir,” Grace said, pretending to look shocked as she pressed her hands to her breast. “A big, handsome man my husband is, and—” She batted her eyelashes and tried her best to look like an innocent maid. “And I want no other,” she said piously.
“We’ll see about that,” Ned chuckled and swept one arm about her waist and kissed her ruthlessly as he suspended the mistletoe over her head.
“Oh, sir,” Grace said with a dazed sigh when he finally let her go. Her hands moved over him and she delighted in the tortured groan that escaped him when she moved her palm over the fall on his britches and found him hard and ready for her. “What a wicked fellow you are,” she murmured.
The mistletoe was flung aside, and Ned lifted her, setting her down on the nearest available surface and pushing her skirts up with impatient hands as she fumbled with his buttons to free his straining cock.
There were a few seconds of frantic scrabbling and then Grace gasped as he entered her in one, fierce thrust. She laughed as he groaned with pleasure and then tugged at the bodice of her gown to expose her breasts.
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