Debauchery and the Earl, page 13
“If you are unhappy in your work,” Josephine called to him. “You might seek other employment.”
He stared at her, then a quick grin dissolved his stolid features. “I’ll collect my pay first. But thank you kindly for the suggestion.” He tipped his hat with his whip. “Best of luck to you, ma’am, gents.”
He set his horses off at a civilized pace, and Calton’s mount ambled up to him. Calton released Josephine with apparent reluctance, scooped up the fallen pistol, which he pocketed, and swung himself up into the saddle before reaching down to her with one hand.
She took it, jumped, and let herself be hauled up in front of him.
“We should return to Harcourt well before anyone is up,” Talley remarked from the back of his own mount.
“Miss Blackwell is up,” Calton said casually, “and awaits your return.”
“Is she angry with me?” Talley asked.
“I suggest you ask her. In fact, I suggest you have much still to say to each other, for her first conclusion was that you had eloped with Josephine!”
Talley blinked and muttered something in French below his breath.
“Did you think that, too?” Josephine asked Calton as the horses began to walk back along the road.
He shook his head. “No. I knew Gough was behind the whole thing.”
“It was a very dashing rescue,” she told him with a quick, suddenly shy smile.
His lips quirked. “Oh, I’m sure you and Talley had it all in hand without me.”
Josephine sighed. “Well, we did until I forgot about the wretched valet again, and they discovered the pistol was not loaded.”
“Not loaded?” He frowned at her. “But I gave you the ball back.”
“I keep it separately,” she said with dignity, and saw understanding dawn in his eyes.
Smiling, he lowered his head closer to hers. “With the pressed harebell, perhaps?”
“Perhaps.” She hid her face against his throat and smiled against his skin, inhaling its distinctive scent before she kissed it.
“Perhaps we should move a little faster,” Talley said apologetically. “I believe it might rain.”
Chapter Thirteen
Dawn was breaking as they approached the stables from the woods. They dismounted and walked the horses along the path to the stables until Josephine could see her sister wrapped in a traveling cloak and a horse blanket, apparently sound asleep on the bench. Wordlessly, Josephine took the reins from Talley.
He did not even glance at her as he ran ahead to Helena and crouched down at her knees. “Helena. Helena, wake up. You will be chilled to the bone.”
Her head lifted, and then with a little cry of joy, she flung her arms about him.
“Helena, my Helena,” he uttered, his voice muffled. “If I loved you less, I’m sure I would handle this better. Forgive me?”
“Oh, forgive me, I had no idea…”
Calton tugged Josephine and the horse through the stable door to give the other two a little privacy. “In just a moment, you and Helena should go together up to the house. The staff will be allowed to sleep late but we can’t rely on there being no one about.”
She nodded, frowning, then said in a rush, “Gough thought I wanted you for your title. Other people will think that, too, but…you don’t, do you?”
He took her into his arms. “No. There was always something between us that had nothing to do with title or rank or position. I always knew, just not what to call it.” He rested his forehead against hers. “You are mine, as I am yours.”
She kissed his lips, long and tenderly.
“Then you will not mind a quick and quiet wedding?” he asked huskily.
“I think I will like that.”
“Good.” He swooped for a quick, hard kiss. “Then go and take Helena back to the house and send Talley to help me with the horses.”
*
Calton’s valet woke him at the hour agreed.
Calton groaned but hauled himself into a sitting position to accept the coffee thrust into his desperate hands. “Is the household up and about?”
“The servants are clearing up, my lord, and a few of the guests are heading down to breakfast.”
Calton took another gulp of coffee and threw off the bedclothes. “Then you had better shave me and lay out the decent morning clothes. And then begin to pack. We’re leaving today.”
“For France, my lord?” the man asked morosely.
“No. For London.”
Breakfast was a subdued meal, due, no doubt, to the previous evening’s over-indulgence in many cases. Grace Wenning presided, since she was probably awake with her baby in any case, but she seemed content to eat, drink tea, and flip through a newspaper. Since there was no sign of Mr. Blackwell, Calton approached his hostess as she excused herself.
“Tell me, which room is Mr. Blackwell in?”
She told him, saying only, “Don’t harass the poor man at this hour or he’ll send you away with a flea in your ear.”
Calton kissed her cheek and ran cheerfully upstairs to risk said flea.
Half an hour later, he emerged from Blackwell’s bedchamber, grinning, and strode back to his own room to see how the packing progressed and to write brief notes to Josephine and Talley. Then, taking the notes with him, he went to make farewells to his host and hostess.
However, as he turned the corner of the passage, Selina Reddington emerged from her bedchamber in front of him.
“Selina,” he said when she looked as if she would ignore him, and she paused, allowing him to catch up.
“My lord.”
“Did you put Gough up to this mischief?”
Her wide eyes were guileless. “What mischief?”
“Trying to abduct an innocent young lady.”
Selina smiled. “I hear the lady is not so innocent.”
He leaned closer. “Then you heard wrongly.”
“Well, she won’t be now if she’s with Gough,” Selina drawled.
“But she is not,” Calton said gently. “She is with her sister and her aunt.”
She cast him a venomous glance of annoyance but said nothing.
“Which puts me in an awkward position,” he said. “One I have never been in before.”
“Do tell.”
“One where I can no longer regard a lady with whom I have been intimate as a friend. We are not friends, Selina, and if you dare come after my wife in any way, I will bring you down. Good morning.”
She would know he could do it, too, for the simple reason that his connections were better than hers, and she would only make a fool of herself playing the shunned mistress in public.
He strode past her and downstairs, in search of his host and hostess, whom he found by the morning room window with their arms around each other, her ladyship’s head on her husband’s shoulder.
Once, he might have made light of such marital affection. Now, it was what he ardently sought, so he said only, “Sorry to interrupt. I am making my farewells early, Grace, and ask you to deliver these notes for me. Also to keep an eye on the wellbeing of the Miss Blackwells.”
“Oh dear, you are never going to the continent after all, are you?” Grace asked in flattering dismay.
“Actually, no. I have some business to take care of in Town.”
*
Josephine would have thought this note purporting to come from Lord Calton was also a forgery, had it not been given to her by Lady Wenning herself. Her ladyship had bustled out of the library with a quick smile, closing the door and leaving Josephine with her father, aunt, and sister.
“Gone? He’s gone to Town?” she said indignantly. Without saying goodbye? How could he? Hurt and doubt began to roll through her.
“You slept too long,” her father said mildly. “He could leave it no later to begin his journey. But he did speak to me before he left.”
Her gaze flew to his. “Did he?” Maybe it was not so bad, although…
“I gather you are in favor of a match with Lord Calton?”
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
He smiled faintly. “Well, you must know I have nothing against it. I like the man. I believe he will rise above his reputation and will look after you properly. And you will be a countess!”
Her eyes widened. “Oh dear, so I will.”
Helena laughed. “You will have to behave and be dignified.”
“So will he,” Aunt Darling said darkly. “But we shall talk about that nearer the wedding. Your sister also has news.”
Smiling, Josephine turned to her sister. “Talley?”
Helena laughed with sheer joy. “He also spoke to Papa this afternoon, so it seems he is to be rid of both of his daughters at once!”
“Oh, he will never really be rid of us!”
Relief and happiness for her sister mingled with her own wonder. And yet her personal feelings seemed oddly distant, almost like a play, because he was not there with her. What she felt in her bones was longing, rather than the obvious delight of her sister. Without Calton there, the edge of pleasure and excitement in her stay had gone, and despite all the entertainments organized by Lady Wenning, she merely drifted, smiling amiably while her heart silently yet fiercely demanded the presence of her love.
When she packed to depart two days later, she put his letter with the pressed flower and the ball that had once resided in her pistol in a reticule at the bottom of her trunk and wondered if he would come the day they arrived back in London.
Or if he had changed his mind.
Being a gentleman, he would probably still marry her, since he had asked her father for her hand. But if he did not love her, that would be worse torture than being alone.
Talley accompanied them on the journey back to London, though mostly on horseback. Josephine was glad to see her sister watching him as he rode, waiting to speak to him at every halt, to slip away for a secret kiss before retiring to their separate bedchambers. But she missed Calton. She wanted him here.
Trying not to dwell on her frustrations, she passed the journey mostly in reading and dozing, letting Helena’s chatter about bride clothes and houses float over her.
They were actually passing Maida Pleasure Gardens before she paid much attention to the road. “This is an odd way to come into London, is it not?”
“We’ve arranged to stop at Renwick’s Hotel for the night,” her father said.
Of course, even mention of Renwick’s stirred a positive hornets’ nest of memories and yearnings she was not sure she wished to deal with. “But we can easily reach Aunt Darling’s before dark.”
“Oh, we’ve had enough travel for one day. I hear Renwick’s is very comfortable.”
But if they pressed on to Town now, she might see Calton tomorrow, or even this evening. She bit her lip, allowing that Aunt Darling and even her father, who was no longer a young man, might be in need of the rest.
The hotel was certainly expecting them, for they were greeted with huge smiles and swept off to their rooms. Which didn’t seem to be as comfortable as all that. There was a bedchamber and a sitting room, but it seemed she and Helena and their aunt were all to share.
“Wash and change for tea, girls,” Aunt said gaily.
Josephine sighed and went through the motions, seizing a gown at random from her trunk.
“Not that one, dear,” Aunt Darling said, taking it from her and throwing it aside. She rummaged and came up with a newer and rather more becoming green muslin with a matching Paisley shawl.
The sisters exchanged amused glances, and Josephine donned the green dress. Bolton, Aunt’s maid, stopped fussing with her mistress and turned her attentions to Helena’s hair, and then Josephine’s.
“Well, we do look rather fine for tea,” Josephine murmured, half-amused. “Do we have it in public, or in the sitting room?”
“Come with me,” Aunt said mischievously, “and I shall show you.”
In fact, a footman was lurking in the passage, apparently with the task of guiding them to tea. Helena took Josephine’s arm and they trooped after him and Aunt Darling along the passage until the footman threw open a door on their left and they walked into a pleasant, bright sitting room that seemed full of people.
Her father was there, talking to Talley and a young man she did not know. An extraordinarily beautiful couple were laughing as they turned toward the door, and the gentleman nudged their companion, who still had his back to her. He turned and, almost like a dream, she beheld Lord Calton.
He did not seem surprised to see her, though his face lit into one of those dazzling smiles that had melted her from the beginning. Without hesitation or even an excuse to his companions, he strode toward her.
Almost in a daze, she reached one hand toward him, perhaps to prove to herself he was real and not conjured from her own pathetic longings.
“Josephine.” His low, curiously hungry voice vibrated through her as he took her hand, raised it to his lips, and kissed it. “I told them to tell you, but they didn’t, did they?”
“Tell me what?” she asked bewildered. “Are we not having tea?”
His eyes danced. “Not yet. If you don’t dislike the idea very much, we’re going to be married first.”
She had the horrible feeling that she gaped. “Now?”
“Now. I came back to Town before you to arrange the special license. Licenses, plural. I thought we should share the day with your sister and Talley, considering they are responsible for our meeting. That man with your father is Lord William Gorse, a friend and ordained clergyman. And these,” he added, tugging her gently toward the beautiful couple he had just left, “are my friends, Mr. and Mrs. Stephen Dornan, who have just returned from Paris, where Dornan won a most prestigious prize for his portraits. Dornan, Aline, Miss Josephine Blackwell.”
She must have said the right things because they smiled at her, looking intrigued. And then Calton drew her a little apart, standing in front of her so that he blocked her from the rest of the room.
“I didn’t want you ambushed like this,” he said ruefully. “I wanted you to look forward to it. Your family obviously thought it would be a more delightful surprise for you.”
“Even Helena knew,” she said wonderingly. “The signs were there but I was too…” She flushed.
“Too what?” he asked softly.
“Distracted.” She met his gaze. “I missed you.”
“Do you mind this? Will you marry me now?”
And suddenly the unreality of the previous few days vanished into sheer awareness, of him, of the hugeness of the moment, and of the adventure to come. She smiled into his eyes and heard his breath catch.
“I don’t mind this at all, and I would like to marry you now.”
*
Two hours later, she returned to the hotel from a walk around the grounds with her husband. She had wanted the fresh air and exercise and needed this innocuous time alone with him to remember and grow used to him again before the looming intimacy of their new marital chamber.
All her things had been moved to his suite of rooms.
She looked around it. “Rather grander than the mere bedchamber you had when I first encountered you here.”
“I felt the occasion demanded rather more.”
“Am I really the Countess of Calton?”
“As surely as I am the earl.” His arm slipped loosely around her waist, and she leaned into him. They had decided to stay here for a few days and then travel not to Europe but to his estate in Suffolk, to make it their home.
Her heartbeat quickened. She said, “Do you remember the night of the ball? In the maze?”
“How could I forget it?” His lips buried themselves in her hair, dislodging several pins.
“You took me by surprise.”
“In a good way, I hope.”
A breathless laugh escaped her. “In a wonderful way! So much so that it was only later I realized the…the wonder was all mine.”
“Not so,” he said huskily. “I had never known such pleasure as giving you that moment.”
She caught his face between her hands. “Will I be able to give you such moments?”
“Oh, my sweet, many,” he whispered, threading his fingers through her hair so that pins fell in clusters. “Many and many and…” His mouth covered hers, and the kiss was long and sweet, a tasting, and yet sensual and knowing, and, somehow, another vow.
When their lips parted at last, he took her hand and led her through the elegant sitting room to the bedchamber, where he slowly undressed her, among many soft, breathless kisses, and then let her do the same for him.
Apart from a few distant swimmers during one memorable summer in Italy, Josephine had never seen a naked adult male. The power of his raw beauty took her breath away as she slowly let her fingertips explore, from his handsome, beloved face to his broad shoulders, to the hard muscles rippling beneath the skin of his arms and chest and stomach, wherever she touched him. And then there was the strange, male organ jutting straight up, so hard beneath the velvet soft skin, and below…
When he kissed her now, there was no barrier between them, no clothes, no doubts, only a wild flaming of desire that grew and grew with his every caress. He lifted her onto the bed and climbed after her. He lay over, worshipping her breasts with his hands and mouth, constantly moving under her own exploring caresses. And then she could not be still either, and when his fingers trailed between her legs, stroking where they had before, in the maze, the same, delicious pleasure spiked through her.
He kissed her as he had then, but before she had time to worry that he still had not found such pleasure in her, she felt a very different nudge between her legs. And in wonder she opened to him, welcoming his slow entering of her body until she could not bear to be still.
“I love you, Josephine, only you, always you,” he whispered.
“Only you, always you,” she echoed, almost on a moan as a deeper, more intense pleasure began inside her, spiraling and sweeping through her until her very breathing was ecstasy. And then, at last, she watched him reach his own bliss and wept with joy because she had given it to him.
It was the first of many joys they gave each other over the years as they grew closer and more knowledgeable. Together, they looked after their people and the land that was his responsibility, and they brought up their children in an atmosphere of warmth and fun. He never did stray from the marital bed, and neither did she, for they found in each other their perfect lady and gentleman of pleasure.
