A Lord Rotheby's Holiday Bundle (127 page)

She never wanted the feeling to
end—being connected so intimately to the man she loved, to her
husband. With languorous hands, she explored his shoulders, back,
buttocks. Softness and curves met hard planes and tight
muscle.

The languid pace of their lovemaking
gathered momentum. Slow, steady thrusts built to rapid need. With
each breath, a myriad of sensations warred for her
attention—tingling breasts, intense fullness, friction.

Perhaps more intense than any of the
other sensations coursing through her body was the feeling—even if
only for that moment—that Peter loved her as much as she loved
him.

Of course, that was mere fantasy, but
she would entertain it for now.

His strokes increased to a near
frantic pace. She met him measure for measure, on a quest for
release.

Her inner walls tightened and released
around him, triggering his own release within her. He shouted out
as waves of his seed spread to fill her womb with delicious
warmth.

Peter collapsed atop her. They lay
together as a tangled mass of limbs, desperate for breath. Finally,
he rolled to the side, pulling her along with him and drawing the
bedclothes up over them both.

“
Stay with me tonight,” he
said. He pushed the tangled mess of her hair from her face and
situated her in his arms.

It wasn’t an order. More a request.
She could choose to return to her own chamber if she wanted—he
would allow her to go. Jane knew this.

But she felt loved in the cocoon of
his arms.

So she stayed, to hold on to the
fantasy for just a bit longer. Within minutes, she was asleep in
the arms of the man she loved.

~ * ~

Peter was startled awake while it was
still dark. His wife was still nestled in his embrace, her head
tucked under his chin.

Jane wasn’t the reason he woke. It was
her cat.

The silly animal had leapt upon the
bed and shoved its way between them, crawling beneath the blankets
to a position surrounded by both of their bodies—Mr. Cuddlesworth
must be seeking their warmth.

Peter sighed. Jane hadn’t moved a
muscle when the cat joined them. Most likely, Mr. Cuddlesworth had
slept with her for its entire life, other than those nights it
stayed with Sarah. It was extremely doubtful that her cat would
stay down from the bed if he tossed it. Instead, Peter shifted so
they were all more comfortable and tried to sleep again.

Jane had better appreciate the
sacrifices he was continuing to make for her.

~ * ~

“
You’re sure of this?”
Utley narrowed his eyes on the drowned rat sitting across from him.
“Somerton is leaving for Wales tomorrow?”

“
Sure as poss’ble. Me
brother wouldn’ have no reason ta lie ta me, guv.”

Utley took deep breaths to slow his
pulse. There was still much planning to do. These things took
time.

Somerton may have run him off that
night, but he would not ultimately win.

“
Good work,” he said. He
took a sack of Somerton’s coins from the inside pocket of his coat
and tossed it across the table. “Thank you for your
assistance.”

“
Ya need me ‘gain, just
send for me, guv.” The rat pushed away from the table, put the sack
in his pocket, and moved past Utley toward the door—assaulting him
with unclean odor strong enough he gagged.

“
Pay for a bath with some
of that.”

Once the air cleared, Utley pushed
away from the table as well and went outside to hail a hack. There
was no time to waste.

Chapter
Twenty

The only thing worse than traveling to
Wales with his wife, two children, a cat, and numerous servants,
was the dread Peter felt about what he would encounter when they
arrived. From the accounts he’d received, both from his planted spy
and from Neil, the staff at Carreg Mawr was dwindling and the
estate was virtually in shambles.

Changes would have to be made. The
sooner they were in place, the better.

Mr. Cuddlesworth’s health continued to
decline over the four days’ journey. The cat rarely left Jane’s
side, and the stomach upset it had suffered on the move from
Whitstable to London had only intensified on this journey. It slept
far more than Peter thought healthy, even for a cat.

The likelihood of Mr. Cuddlesworth
making a return to Hardwicke House grew slimmer by the
day.

That eventuality would devastate his
entire family—particularly Jane. But Sarah and even Joshua loved
the animal as well. Like it or not, the cat was now an important
member of his family.

Peter couldn’t stand to allow anything
to hurt his family. There was no possible way to prevent this hurt,
though. Death had ever been and would always be an inevitable,
inescapable component of life.

Still, Peter resented the fact that he
couldn’t protect the people he loved the most from this pain. At
times like these, he had to remind himself that he was only a man.
A duke, true. But still just a man.

A man falling deeper in love with his
wife every day.

Since that first night that she had
come to him before they set out for Carreg Mawr, he’d requested
that she share his bed. Jane might not love him, at least not yet.
But she freely gave of herself each night, growing not only in
confidence, but in eagerness.

Even if she only came to his bed out
of a feeling of obligation, the fact remained that she came. Every
night. And she stayed with him instead of returning to her own bed,
in her private chamber. She allowed him the opportunity to pour out
his love to her, even if she didn’t return it.

He had to believe she was softening
toward him, that she would someday love him.

In return, Peter made an even greater
effort to ensure her a life of ease. As they talked more, he was
fascinated by how much work had been expected of her as a child.
Jane hadn’t just sewed gowns for the ladies who lived nearby in
order to pay for her education, but she’d also assisted her father
with the gardening and her mother with the upkeep of the
house.

Peter vowed she would never have to
work again.

Instead, Jane could content herself
with being a mother to his children. A role for which, he was
pleased to note, she was impeccably equipped. Joshua and Sarah
clamored for her attention, which she eagerly gave anytime they
required it.

By the time they reached his Welsh
estate, he knew without a doubt: he couldn’t have found a better
woman to be his duchess if he’d searched every ballroom in
England.

Still, she was unhappy.

Jane tried not to let him see her
distress. Any time she knew he was watching, she pasted a fake
smile upon her lips. But he watched her more than she knew. If she
thought him asleep in the carriage, she would let down her guard
and cry.

Twice, he awoke in the night to the
feel of her hot tears coursing down his chest. He stayed still so
she wouldn’t suspect he knew. Once she finally cried herself to
sleep, he wiped the tears from her cheeks.

He wished desperately to know how to
make her happy.

They were drawing near Kidwelly,
finally. Cottages and stables started to pop up along the landscape
outside the carriage window, and the fresh scent of the sea filled
the air. It had been years since Peter had been to Wales, but it
appeared as though nothing had changed.

The carriage drew through the town,
filled with pubs and the newer factories and the sounds of horses’
hooves against the lilting voices of Welsh singers. Then they moved
on toward the outskirts of town, through the woods and up over the
large hill, rolling ever closer to the crags and cliffs by the
sea.

Halfway up the hill, the battlements
atop the turrets of his estate finally came into view. The castle,
built in the twelfth century, looked much the same as it ever had.
Moss and ivy trailed up the outer walls of the bailey and up the
portcullis gates, showcasing their verdant greens against the drab
gray stone walls.

Peter had always enjoyed his time at
Carreg Mawr. Yes, the castle was dark and dank and draughty, but
the relaxed attitude of the people here had always suited him. If
not for his concerns for the rest of his family, he might have
enjoyed spending more of his holidays here.

But his sisters required the more
modern comforts of London, or the spacious grandeur of Somerton
Court, where Alex and Grace had been living for the last two years.
So Carreg Mawr sat alone far more than he would like, with only his
servants and tenants to enjoy its history.

Jane’s sharp indrawn breath as the
carriage pulled into the outer bailey took him by surprise. “Carreg
Mawr is a castle? I had no idea.” She stared out the windows with a
slack jaw. “Are any of your other properties as impressive as
this?”

Peter chuckled. “This is the only
castle I own, if that’s what you are asking. My other properties
are more like what you would be used to...country manor houses.
Built much more recently than this.”

“
I’ve never been inside a
castle before,” she murmured. “Well, not one as old and grand as
this, that is. Being presented to the Queen was something else
entirely.”

“
Indeed,” he said, stifling
a grin. His wife was truly fascinating. She was more impressed by a
building of stone than she had been with meeting her
Queen.

She clasped her hands together tightly
and turned to him, eyes wide. “Will voices echo in the halls, do
you imagine?”

“
I needn’t imagine it,
since I remember quite plainly how Richard and Alex and I would
call out to each other as boys, trying to see who could make his
echo last the longest.”

“
How lovely,” she said on a
sigh. “I’ll have to spend some time playing in the halls with
Joshua and Sarah. If that’s all right, of course.”

“
Of course.” He wished she
would stop seeking his approval for every little thing involving
Joshua and Sarah. Hadn’t he given her the responsibility of seeing
to the welfare of his children?

As the carriages came to a stop, a
line of servants formed outside the castle walls to greet them.
Peter recognized a few familiar faces, even though it had been
years since he’d last been there. The most worrisome thing he
noticed, however, was the small number of servants
gathering.

Turnpenny had not only done a
disservice to Peter—he’d hurt the entire town by ridding the estate
of so many workers. Outside of the steel and brick industries,
there were not many employers in Kidwelly.

Devil take it. It appeared he had
quite the job laid out before him, and he could only hope that the
people in town wouldn’t hold Turnpenny’s offenses against him. It
was, after all, Peter’s property and his money paying the
wages.

Still, there was no time like the
present to start.

~ * ~

After two weeks at Carreg Mawr, Jane
felt the best she’d felt in months. For the first time in her
marriage, she actually believed she was needed—even
useful.

She spent a good amount of time with
Joshua and Sarah, taking them for promenades through the castle
grounds and exploring the kitchens and chapel with them. Through
trial and error, the three of them had discovered that the turret
overlooking the courtyard was the best place for echoes.

But beyond her time with the children,
Jane was working and loving every moment of it.

So many of the servants required to
care for an estate so large had been run off by the previous
steward, that things inside the castle simply weren’t operating as
they ought. Frankly, there was far too much work to be done in the
hiring of new staff for Peter to handle on his own, especially
since he had yet to find someone to oversee the estate.

The cook, Mrs. Dunstan, and the
housekeeper, Mrs. Prichard, took great delight in having Jane sit
in with them as they interviewed ladies to help fill in as scullery
maids, downstairs maids, and upstairs maids, while Peter handled
the responsibility of finding new footmen, grooms, gardeners—and of
course, a new steward.

Even during those times when she
wasn’t busy assisting these two lovely ladies, Jane kept herself
quite busy. She made certain no one, including Peter, was around to
see her doing so, particularly since Mrs. Prichard and her staff
would highly disapprove of Her Grace’s washing windows and
scrubbing floors. Peter might be more accepting of her interference
in the household chores than the housekeeper would be, which was
saying something, indeed.

On this particular day, the lovely
summer weather they’d been experiencing had turned sour. Heavy
clouds rolled in from the sea and brought torrents of rain with
them, meaning the children were stuck indoors to play.

Jane had played a round of
Scotch-Hoppers with them in the inner bailey. But then she had left
them in the care of Mrs. Pratt so she could sneak in a bit of
dusting in the main keep before anyone caught her.