Connor whispered against her skin, aYou like this part, donat you?a aYes.a He toyed with her now, finding the spots along her neck that made her tremble. aThe rest is just like it . . . Only more . . . Let me.a She felt herself give a shaky nod, and in a single, fluid motion, he swept her into his arms.
Dimly, she was aware of being brought into the bedchamber, of more glowing candlelight and the faint crackle of fire. Her world dissolved into a languid series of sensationsa"the slide of her feet to the floor, the pressure of his mouth on her neck, the thick silk of his hair in her fingers. As the warmth progressed to heat, she grew restless, anxious for the next touch, the next shivering pleasure. But Connor remained relentlessly, maddeningly slow in his seduction. He undressed her leisurely, stopping to taste and touch every inch of newly exposed flesh. Gently, he drew her trembling hands away when she tried to help, tried to make him hurry.
aThis way,a he whispered and swallowed her whimpering protest with his mouth. aMy way.a Despite the warm air in the room, she knew a momentas chill when he slipped her chemise over her head. Connor laid her on the bed, and the chill was banished by the hard heat of his body settling over hers. The feel and scent of him enveloped her . . . The faint aroma of sandalwood, the soft bristle of the hair on his chest, the heat of his hands as they glided over her skin.
He brushed her thigh and sought the heat between her legs. She squirmed beneath him, caught between desire and embarra.s.sment.
aConnor . . .a aShh, love . . . let me.a She stopped struggling and gasped at the first smooth glide of his fingers. Deftly, he stroked and teased until the pleasure turned into a delicious ache, and the ache became a desperate need. She moaned and strained beneath him, grabbing at his shoulders, his hair, any part of him she could reach. Connor dipped his head to draw a nipple into his mouth, and suddenly the need was pleasure once morea"a great solid wave of it that drew every muscle of her body tight as it crashed over her and left her dizzy and panting in its wake.
On a shuddering sigh, she lifted her lids and found herself staring into Connoras hooded green eyes. They were dark with pa.s.sion, glittering with triumph, and filled with warmth.
His hands slid under her knees. aPut your legs around . . . thatas it.a He shifted his weight and pressed into her slowly. There was pain, but it was slight. It did nothing to diminish the extraordinary feeling of Connoras body moving over hers or her desire to rush headlong into the next sensation, the next wave of pleasure. Until he muttered something against her hair and pushed himself inside her with a long, determined thrust of his hips.
Suddenly, the moment was no longer quite so enchanting.
She dug her nails into his shoulder and cried out. aOh! Ouch!a Connor went perfectly still but for the heavy rise and fall of his chest. aIam sorry. Darling, Iam sorry. It had to be done.a Done was exactly what she wanted to hear, and exactly what she intended to be. She shoved at him. He wouldnat budge.
aConnora"a aLie easy, sweetheart.a He bent his head and brushed his lips across hers. aLie easy and wait. It will get better. I promise.a He kissed her again, slow and deep, and the pain ebbed into mild discomfort. His hands skimmed over her skin, reigniting fires that had been doused. They were flickering sparks at first, then little flames that licked and teased and finally burst into life. Cautious, she ran her hands up the hard bands of muscles in his arms, and down the smooth plane of his back. She heard the rough catch and release of his breath, and she felt the violent beat of his heart against her palms.
Connor trailed kisses up her neck, across her jaw. aBetter?a aYes.a The discomfort was all but gone, replaced by the inexplicable need to move. aI think . . . I want . . .a aI know.a Carefully, he withdrew partway, then slid inside again.
aOh.a His lips curved in a wicked smile. aBetter?a She couldnat answer. He moved again, beginning a steady rhythm of gentle invasion and retreat that robbed her of speech. The ache and need returned, different this time. Tentatively, she arched up to meet him and was rewarded with a low masculine groan. Connor dropped his head, burying his face in her hair. His movements grew faster, more forceful, and still they werenat fast enough, or slow enough, or something. She needed something.
aI need . . . Connor, I need . . .a aShh. I know.a He reached down to stroke her where their bodies were joined. Pleasure broke over her, wave after astonishing wave of it. And just as she began to surface, Connor gathered her close, thrust deep, and shuddered in her arms.
Chapter 21.
Adelaide opened her eyes and squinted against the early morning light that snuck around the edges of the drapes. Not quite half awake, she rolled onto her back to escape the glare and stretched the aching muscles in her legs. The softness of new linen caressed her bare skin. She nearly moaned with appreciation . . . Until she remembered why she was bare-legged in a bed covered with soft linen and not tangled up in her scratchy wool blanket and perfectly ancient night rail.
She was married. She was a wife.
She rolled her head on the pillow and found Connor fast asleep beside her.
Good G.o.d, she had a husband.
A bubble of laughter formed in her throat, the sort that came when one teetered between outrageous delight and outright panic. She swallowed the laughter and the panic. The first because she didnat wish to wake Connor, and the latter because she recognized it as illogical and useless.
The next step, that was what she needed to think of now.
Only she ran into a spot of difficulty concentrating on the next step. It was far more interesting to focus on the step shead taken last night.
Her wedding night had been a whirlwind of discovery. What theyad done . . . What she had done . . . Wanton did not begin to describe her behavior. Probably, she should be ashamed. At the very least, she should feel embarra.s.sed. She didnat. She felt deliciously wicked, enormously pleased with herself, and wildly curious about the man sleeping next to her.
Connor was her husband. Shead married him and shared a bed with him. And yet she knew so little about him.
Her gaze trailed over his p.r.o.ne form, searching for details. He slept on his stomach, his arms under the pillow and legs sprawled outa"taking up far more than half the bed, she noted. Dark blond lashes, thick and long enough to ignite a silly spark of envy in her, rested on skin pale by heritage and lightly tanned by the sun. He had a tiny scar at the hairline, and a large one that started at the base of his left shoulder blade and formed a two-inch, jagged trail down his back before disappearing under the sheet. She frowned at it, wondering what sort of injury had caused it, and how terribly the wound must have hurt. It was a stark reminder to her that head not always had soft sheets to sleep on, that his life had been bleak for a time.
Dark images filled her mind. There were an infinite number of ways the injury may have occurred. Connor had been little more than a boy when head been impressed. And while her knowledge of maritime life was limited in the extreme, shead heard a tale or two of the awful things that could occur aboard a warship.
The scar might be from a captainas whip or a shipmateas knife. Connor might have been wounded in battle, ora"
aGuarding my sleep, love?a Connoras voice, gruff from sleep, banished the disturbing thoughts. Her gaze snapped to his face, and she found his hooded green eyes studying her as closely as shead been studying him.
Suddenly embarra.s.sed, she cleared her throat and picked a spot on the wall behind him to stare at. aCertainly not.a aRelieved to hear it, as thatas my duty.a He rolled over and absently dragged a hand through his hair before crossing his arms behind his head. aWhat were you thinking just now? I could hear the wheels and cogs turning in your head.a aI was wondering how youad been hurt,a she replied, seeing no need to lie. How was she to learn more about him if she never asked? She shrugged when his eyebrows winged up. aYouave a scar on your back.a aAh. A fall from a horse in my youth. I took a tumble down a rocky slope.a aOh.a That . . . was not what she had envisioned.
Connor laughed, reached up, and pulled her down on top of him. aYou were expecting a different story.a aI thought . . .a She twisted to keep from elbowing him in the ribs. aYou were impressed.a aI was.a He settled her against his side, his arms wrapped loosely around her shoulders. aThereas more than one sort of injury, sweet.a And more than one kind of scar, Adelaide thought. She squirmed a little, trying to find a position that would allow her to see his face, but it wasnat possible to do without either throwing his arms off or acquiring a kink in her neck. Giving up, she rested her cheek against his hard chest.
She wanted to ask him about the sort of scars he had but thought it might be a topic better suited for another time. Perhaps when they were more accustomed to one another.
aHow did you go from being impressed to having all this?a she asked instead.
His arms tightened around her. aWell, I saw it, decided I should have it, compromised it in a garden, and that wasa"a aThat is not what I meant.a She laughed. She lifted a hand and gestured at the room. aI mean, all this.a aYes, I know.a She felt him shrug. aIave a head for the shipping business.a aBut how did you go from impressed to shipping?a aLuck, hard work, determination. Mostly luck.a She stifled a sigh at his evasiveness. Connor was not the sort of man one could press. Which was unfortunate, because she was the sort of woman who couldnat refrain from pressing.
aMight you be a bit more specific?a aAnother time.a In a quick, sure move, he rolled her onto her back and ranged himself over her. Sharp green eyes searched her face. aHow do you feel this morning?a aOh, quite well.a She liked the feel of him pressing her into the mattress, his legs tangled with hers, and his strong arms bracketed on either side of her like a protective cage. Suddenly, she felt better than well. She felt . . . interested. With a shy smile, she put her arms around him and let her fingers drift over the warm skin and taut muscles of his back.
Connor made a low hum of appreciation, and she watched, fascinated, as his eyes darkened with desire. Lowering his head, he took her mouth in a long, languid kiss.
Pleasure settled over her, seeping into her blood, but just as it began to grow, Connor pulled away. aEnough,a he said thickly. aThatas enough, sweet.a Her hands stilled. aWhy?a aBecause . . .a Hooded eyes fastened on her mouth. His chest rose and fell raggedly. aBecause . . . d.a.m.n it, one more.a He took her mouth again, deeper and harder this time, as if he were trying to draw something out of her. Wanting to help, she shifted and felt the heavy heat of his arousal brush against her stomach.
Connor pulled away with a groan. aHoly h.e.l.l, thatas enough. Itas too soon.a aToo soon?a she echoed in a daze and glanced at the window. aBecause itas morning, do you mean? Is . . . Is it not the done thing?a He blinked once, then quickly turned his face away . . . But not before she saw the smile.
aAre you laughing at me?a she demanded with mock outrage.
His shoulders shook.
aYou are!a aG.o.d, yes, Iam sorry.a He faced her, his handsome features lit with a combination of laughter, arousal, and affection. aItas too soon after your first time, sweetheart. Thatas what I meant.a aOh.a She blushed a little and tried to hide her disappointment. aAre you . . . quite sure?a aAs Iave never been a maiden, myself . . . No, Iam not sure.a He pressed a quick kiss to her lips and with a small, rueful groan left the circle of her arms. aBut weall not risk it.a He rolled from the bed and padded, with a remarkable lack of self-consciousness, across the room to a wardrobe. Adelaide couldnat help but starea"at the powerful legs, the tawny skin, and the firm muscle of his b.u.t.tocks. Mostly she stared at his b.u.t.tocks. For reasons that eluded her, she found his backside absolutely riveting. And she was more than a little sorry when Connor slipped his arms through the sleeves of a robe, depriving her of the view.
aShouldnat I have a say in what can be risked?a she asked, gathering the counterpane around her.
aCertainly,a Connor agreed easily. aAnd though Iall not change my mind, Iave no objection to hearing a beautiful woman beg fora"a aNever mind,a she drawled and rolled her eyes when he laughed.
Keeping a firm hold on the counterpane, she slipped her feet off the bed and retrieved her chemise from where it had been left on the floor the night before. She felt silly dragging the blanket along like a queen with a train, but there was deliciously wicked, and then there was parading about the room without a st.i.tch of clothing. In her mind, the line between the two was quite distinct.
It took some doing, but she eventually succeeded in pulling the chemise over her head without letting go of the counterpane. When she emerged from the material, she found Connor regarding her with baffled amus.e.m.e.nt.
aWas that really necessary?a aYes.a Refusing to feel foolish over something as perfectly natural as modesty, she dropped the counterpane and worked her arms through the sleeves of her chemise.
aYou might have asked me to turn my back,a he pointed out. aOr for a robe.a aWell, if youare seeking to help, you may a.s.sist me into my gown.a He obliged, helping her into the dress and working the b.u.t.tons up her back with the deft efficiency of a ladyas maid. Adelaide thought it might be best not to dwell on how he came by such a skill.
She rubbed her palm along the muslin at her waist. It was the same gown shead been married in, and the same gown shead been wearing the first time shead seen Connor in the light of day. It felt strange to be wearing it now.
aConnor?a He brushed her hair over her shoulder and pressed his lips to the base of her neck. Her skin p.r.i.c.kled and warmed.
aHmm?a aWhy did you marry me?a His mouth stilled against her neck. aYou know why.a aYou told me it was for revenge. And youave told me you wanted me.a aSo I did.a His breath was warm and moist against her skin. aSo I do.a aEither one of those . . .a She licked her lips and wondered if it was the sensations he was stirring in her or her own nerves that had caused them to go dry. aBoth of those could havea"a aBeen had another way,a he finished for her. The heat of his mouth disappeared from her neck, leaving the spot head kissed damp and chilled.
aYes. It would have been just as devastating to Sir Robert if youad made me your mistress.a Taking gentle hold of her arm, he turned her about to face him. His eyes searched her face but betrayed nothing of what he was thinking. aWould you have agreed to become my mistress?a Not initially, she thought. But once shead learned of Sir Robertas true nature . . . If it had been the only way to save her family . . . She didnat know.
aNo,a she said, simply because she thought it was expected.
He nodded once, his expression inscrutable. aThere you are.a She wasnat sure what answer shead been hoping for, but clearly athere you area wasnat it. A large, uncomfortable knot formed in her chest. The cold at her neck spread, seeping under the skin.
Forcing a smile and brisk tone, she stepped away from him, needing distance. aWell, that makes sense, doesnat it?a aAdelaidea"a aDo you know, I think perhaps Iall take a stroll in the garden this morning. Weall not have such fine weather for much longer, and it seems a pity not to take advantage of everya"a He caught her arm before she could reach the door. aAre we having an argument?a She closed her eyes on a sigh. She didnat want to argue anymore. Shead had enough anger and ill will to fill a lifetime. Head not lied about his reasons for wanting marriage, and there was nothing to be gained from condemning him for those reasons now.
aNo.a She turned on her own and met his eyes. aThereas nothing to argue about. I want a walk, thatas all.a A crease formed between his brows, but he nodded and let his hand fall away.
Adelaide made herself smile once more before taking her leave.
For nearly an hour, she wandered about the grounds of Ashbury Hall, taking in what progress had been made in taming the lawn and gardens and allowing the easy exercise and soft morning air to settle her worries, or at least brush them away for a time.
A gardener was already in residence, and she knew an architect had been hired and plans were being drawn up for the gardens. They were large plans, elaborate plans. Ashbury Hall was a grand manor, and it would have the grounds to match.
She walked along the south side of the house and found that a small section of the garden had already been cleared of weeds and turned over. There was enough room for a small fountain. A few stone benches would be lovely there as well, she mused. The light was perfect for dahlias. Shead never tried to grow them before, buta"
Connoras voice pulled her from her musings. aDo you like the spot?a She glanced over her shoulder and smiled, pleased to discover her walk had been effective in relieving her of her odd mood. aIam sure it will be a fine garden.a aItas yours.a aYes.a She looked around her, studying the grounds. She was mistress of Ashbury Hall now, though that fact seemed distant and surreal to her. aThereas quite a bit for the architect and gardener to see done, buta"a aNo, I mean . . .a He gestured at the tilled earth. aThat. On this side of the house. Itas yours.a aThe dirt?a Connor lifted a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat. Then he tugged a bit on his cravat. Then he caught his hands behind his back as if suddenly aware that he was fidgeting.
She stared at him with wonder. My goodness, she thought, was he embarra.s.sed?
aI had work begin on it yesterday,a he explained. aWhen I returned to retrieve the carriage. I thought you might like to have a part of the garden all your own. To do with as you liked.a The last of the chill that had come upon her in their chambers melted away. She wasnat sure if Connor was trying to spoil her, bribe her, make amends, or all three. But she was quite certain she liked it. Whatever his past misdeeds, and whatever his motivations now, he was trying to make things comfortable between them. She rather thought that ought to count for something.
She stretched up and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. aThank you.a aYouare welcome.a He slipped a hand around her neck and pulled her mouth to his for a long, searing kiss that left her breathless and overheated. aThought it might be wise to take advantage of our privacy, while we still had it,a he said when at last he released her. aIave sent a carriage to fetch your family.a aOh.a She blinked, trying to see past the haze of pa.s.sion. It didnat work.
But then she heard Connor say, aWolfgang means to come.a Which was quite effective in dousing her ardor.
aOh.a She managed a half smile when Connor chuckled. aHow can you be certain?a aI spoke with him about it at the prison.a aWhat did you say?a aThat a move to Ashbury came with an allowance.a aBribery again?a That didnat surprise her as much as why the bribe had been made. Shead have thought Connor would pay good money to keep Wolfgang out of his home.
aA compromise,a Connor countered. aHe needs funds. I want to keep a close eye on him until we can be sure heas spending those funds wisely.a aYou didnat tell him that, did you?a She could only imagine her brotheras reaction to such a slight.
aGive me some credit, love. I told him his family needed him.a He kissed the top of her head and toyed with a lock of her hair. aAnd that head find his childhood home a mite inhospitable once repairs began on the roof.a aRepairs?a aThey begin next week. The parlor doors are to be replaced immediately.a He gave her a pointed look. aAnd that cherrywood chair is going into the fire.a She broke into laughter and thought, oh, yes, he was trying. aI should have guessed youad known what I was about. We canat burn it. Itas an heirloom.a aThe attic then,a he agreed easily and bent to give her another quick kiss. aIall leave you to your walk.a She almost asked him to stay but bit back the request at the last second. She no longer wanted a walk or needed to clear her thoughts, but she did want just a moment more of solitude.
After he disappeared into the house, Adelaide made a slow survey of her surroundings, seeing it all in a different light. This was hers. The house, the grounds, the plot of dirt, and the fifteen thousand pounds in the banka"they were all hers.
For years she had been weighed with the worries of what would become of her family. For weeks she had faced an unknown and unexpected future. Now that future had arrived . . . and it was wonderful. She was safe. They were all safe. There would never be a poorhouse, never be another creditor at her door. Isobel would have new gowns, new books, a world of opportunities opened to her. George would have a proper nanny, the finest tutors when the time came, and all the biscuits he could eat. And Wolfgang . . . Wolfgang would come around. She was sure of it.
For the first time in longer than she could remember, she felt freea"well and truly free. A giddiness washed over her. She heard her own laughter echo back from the woods across the lawn. And like a small child at play, she threw her arms wide and spun in circles.
Connor watched Adelaide spin in the garden. From his position in front of the window in his second-floor study, he could make out the twirling folds of her skirt and the strands of auburn that sunlight wove into her hair. The soft lilt of her laughter filtered through the gla.s.s and soothed the tightness in his chest.
The night before had been his every fantasy come to life, but the morning had not gone quite as head hoped.
There you go.
In retrospect, that had not been his finest display of charm. But holy h.e.l.l, the woman liked to press.
How had he been injured? How had he gone from impressment to shipping? Why had he married her? Why had he not made her his mistress? The questions, and the patient way she had pressed for answers, had unnerved him.
She wanted him to share.
Unfortunately for the both of them, sharing was not something he did well. Connor made it a point to avoid contemplation of his shortcomings, but of his myriad forms of selfishness, he was perfectly aware. He was generous with money and goods because he could afford to give them away without risk or inconvenience to himself.
But Adelaide, he was afraid, wanted him to give a piece of himself. It was an expectation he wasnat sure he could fill, or fake.
He didnat know how to be generous in that way. It had never been required of him. Head not been raised with siblings. His parents, though he knew they loved him, had been reserved in their affections. The mistresses head had over the years had been content with his time and expensive trinkets. And his men . . . Well, they were his men. Mostly they spoke of women, drink, and their desire to stick Sir Robertas head on pike.
No one had ever asked more of him than head been comfortable giving.
For now, Adelaide seemed appeased by his gift of the garden. And perhaps that would be the key to keeping her happy, keeping them both happya"bribery, distraction, and careful distance.
He hoped it would be enough. He hoped shead not ask so many questions.
Because, G.o.das truth, he wasnat sure shead like the answers.
Chapter 22.
If Adelaideas wedding night had been a whirlwind of discovery, the first week of marriage was an education.
The day after the Wardsa arrival, Connor took all but Wolfganga"who chose to remain in his chambersa"into town so Adelaide could fulfill her wish of spoiling her nephew and sister with sweets and art supplies. As Adelaide had predicted, George fell asleep before he could make himself ill. Isobel took her paint and easel outside and, for the next six days, spent every hour of sunlight in the garden, hunting for blooms to paint.
Adelaide found pleasure in her own hobbies. She began the delightful task of planning her own garden, and in a moment of rare spontaneity, she asked the stable master to teach her how to ride. But with so many other duties requiring her attention, it wasnat often she found time for herself.
Major repairs on the house had been completed, but there was still some work to be done, and the decorator seemed to need her approval for every new drape and sc.r.a.p of wallpaper he wished to order. The staff required the more mundane, but no less time-consuming, sort of directions always needed for the daily management of a large home. New clothes had to be purchased for the entire family. Letters had to be written to Lilly and Winnefred. A nanny had to be found for George, and shead hoped to draw Wolfgang out of his bad temper by involving him in the process, but he demonstrated a distinct lack of enthusiasm for the task.
aWhat the devil do I know of nannies?a was his response. They were, in fact, the only words he spoke to Adelaide in the course of the week. He kept to his chambers in the day, and the townas tavern at night.
At Connoras urging, she let the matter go without argument. If Wolfgang wished to lick his wounded pride with a bitter tongue, he was welcome to do it alone.
And really, George didnat need a nanny right this moment. He was thriving in his new home, and there was no shortage of people willing, even eager, to watch over him in the interim.
The staff and residents of Ashbury Hall were enamored with the child, none more so than Michael, Gregory, and Graham. They lavished attention on the boy and seemed especially fond of picking him up and tossing him in the air like a sack of flour. Adelaide nearly fainted the first time Gregory did this, but the old man caught George without so much as a grunt for the effort, proving he was stronger and quicker than he appeared.
It was strange sharing a house with grown men to whom she was not related, and who were neither staff nor guests. Connor treated Michael and Gregory like family, but while Adelaide came to enjoy the menas easy smiles and gentle bickering, she still didnat fully trust them.
The air of secrecy surrounded them. And Connor. And a good portion of everything they did.
Connor spent hours every day behind the closed doors of his study. Sometimes he preferred his own council, but typically he met with his men and the low murmur of male voices would drift into the hall and down into the front parlor. For reasons she neither understood nor cared to examine too closely, Adelaide found the sound agreeable and often created excuses to sit in the parlor when the men were above stairs. Though their words were unintelligible, it was easy to distinguish who was speaking when. She listened for the distinct and familiar cadence of Connoras deep voice.
Adelaide wondered if she would not be so inclined to listen for the sound of him if only he were more readily available in the flesh. And by that, she did not mean available for concerns of the flesh. Connor was certainly accessible for that. Every night, as it happened. And every morning. She was fairly sure head become available during the day given half the provocation. He was, in that regarda"and to her unqualified delighta"unfailingly attentive.