Captain Of Her Heart (18 page)

“I can’t find my slippers.”  She teetered, and he caught her in the nick of time.

“Easy, darling, else you risk injury to yourself and our babes.”  In an instant, he knelt before her.  “Your shoes are right here, but I gather you cannot see them over your belly.  Allow me to assist you.”

As Jason lifted her foot, it occurred to him that he had overlooked the power of seduction in his quest to restore his fiery Alex.  While most society maidens tempered their desires, his bride had presented something altogether to the contrary.  In short, she was the most passionate woman he had ever known.

With a flick of his wrists, he hiked her skirts, bent his head, and trailed his lips up her calves to her knees, where he licked and suckled her flesh.  Holding her gaze, he moved from one leg to the other and repeated the decadent maneuver.  When she closed her eyes, gasped, and then emitted the softest, sweetest moan, he could have danced a jig.

Again and again, he pressed on her caresses meant to entice and arouse, and she speared her fingers through his hair.  And just as he gained his bawdy stride, the cannon in his crotch fired a violent fusillade, and he rested his forehead to her knee and groaned, as wave upon wave of delicious release wreathed and ensorcelled him.

When next Jason surfaced, he discovered Alex scrutinizing him.  “Did you just—”

“Yes, I did.”  Mortified, he sat on his heels and peered at the telltale stain penetrating his breeches.  “Now I must change clothes.”

“So it is true.”  It was a statement, not a question.  “You desire me.”

“When have I not?”  He pulled down her skirts and eased her slippers to her feet.  “Will you not let me have you?  I promise, I will be gentle, but I burn for you, Alex.”

“Jason.”  She uttered his name in a bare whisper, as she had when they made love, and cupped his cheek.  “I wish I could give you what you want, but I can’t.  I am sorry, but I can’t.”

“All right, I will not pressure you.”  He mustered a grin, though inside he ached for her.  Standing, he clasped her hands, drew her from the
chaise
, wrapped his arm about her waist, and kissed her hard and fast.  “Now you must away, else I might break my vow, but I would caution you to take care, as I would not have you waning.”

“Yes, sir.”  Alex made to withdraw but reversed course without warning, and she ever so briefly brushed her lips to his, much to his surprise.  “I bid you a good afternoon, Jason.”

As his wife fled the parlor, without so much as a backward glance, he smiled.  Oh, it was a very good afternoon.

#

A fortnight later, Alex groaned and pressed a hand to the small of her back, as she climbed the grand staircase.  After another full day of interviews, during which she broke only to supervise a thorough cleaning of the kitchen, she was exhausted.  To her abiding delight, the floors had been resurfaced to perfection, and she admired the lustrous wood grain of the balustrade and individual steps.

Tomorrow, the roofers should complete their repairs, and the last five chambers would be repainted.  And high on her list of priorities were appointments with one furniture maker, two landscapers, three interior designers, and four local merchants.

Yes, in only a couple of weeks, she had brought a shine to the grand estate home, with which she had fallen in love from the moment she first gazed beyond the coach window at Stratfield Manor.  At the landing, she halted, peered into the gallery, and examined the navy distemper wall coverings, in the Dossie tradition, which she favored, framed in rich mahogany.  Well, the huge open space would serve as a gallery, once she commissioned a few portraits, given the large open hall remained bereft of a single painting.  But such niceties yielded to more important items.

Monday next, an army of carpenters and plasterers would repair the exterior edifice, and then Alex could focus her energies on decorations and furnishings, excepting what she had already obtained for the drawing room, the back parlor, the dining room, and the master suite.

When she waddled through the double doors leading to the sitting room she shared with her husband, she yawned.  As she entered the octagonal-shaped bedchamber, which she adored the moment she first arrived to unpack her belongings, she scrutinized the opulent velvet drapes, elegant wall coverings trimmed in mahogany, and bedclothes, all boasting the sumptuous navy blue her husband preferred.  Why she persisted in futile attempts to win Jason’s love she neither knew nor cared, yet she clung to the barest thread of hope that he might someday gift her his heart.

“Ho-hum.”  She covered her mouth and then stretched.

Given Alex had yet to hire a lady’s maid, she had relied on the skills Molly had imparted to dress herself.  But in recent days, she had struggled to tie her laces.  After a few awkward twists and turns, accompanied by grunts and groans of frustration, she glanced at the bellpull and rued calling Miss Phipps at the late hour.

So Alex sat at her vanity, kicked off her slippers, reached behind her, shifted left and then right, and ceded the fight.  Despite her better judgment, she studied her reflection in the mirror and frowned.  An empty shell stared back at her, and she wondered how long she would survive the daunting despair that underscored her every waking hour.  Leaning forward, she folded her arms atop the vanity, rested her head, and closed her eyes.

An abrupt jolt brought her alert countless minutes later.

“You fell asleep, love.”  Jason carried her to the bed and eased her to the mattress.  “I have loosened your laces, and I will help you undress.”

“Thank you, as I can no longer manage on my own.”  Yet she had not wanted him to see her nude.  “And I have not hired a lady’s maid, as it has been difficult to find a suitable candidate.”

“Why did you not summon Gertie?”  After flicking up her skirts, he unfastened her garters and rolled down her stockings.  “She would have been only too happy to provide assistance.”

“Because it is late, and she has retired.”  Alex leaned to one side, as Jason bunched her gown at her hips, before whisking the garment over her head.  Wearing only her chemise, she crossed her arms to cover her breasts.  How unfair it was that she still craved his body and his touch, every bit as much as she craved peach jam pudding with sardines.  “Will you fetch my nightgown?”

“Do you truly need one, as it is a warm night?”  To her surprise, her husband knelt and massaged her feet.  When he pressed his thumbs to her arches, she moaned, and he chuckled.  “Feel good?”

“Oh, Jason.”  Alex dropped back her head and sighed.  “It is divine.”

As he rubbed her toes, kneaded her heels and ankles, and stroked the tops of her feet, she hummed an accompaniment of sheer delight.  Little by little, as he worked his magic, the day’s weariness and tension slipped from her shoulders.  Lost in a euphoric haze, she had not noticed he had changed positions until the mattress dipped, and he sat beside her.

Once again, her knight tempted her with gentle but well placed caresses to her spine, paying particular attention to her lower back.  When Jason encouraged her to lean on him, she resisted not, because she needed his strength, yet she was too afraid to tell him.

“How is that?”  It was then he untied her chemise, drew it to her waist, and kissed her temple.

“Wonderful.”  But she gulped as he walked a naughty path to her bosom with his fingers.  “What are you doing?”

“Shh.”  As he caught the crest of her ear with his teeth, he traced flirty circles about her nipples.  And then he ruined the pleasant interlude, when he squeezed her breasts.

“
Ouch
.”  She winced and grabbed his wrists.  “Please, do not do that, as I am so swollen and tender.  It is quite painful.”

“Sorry, Alex.”  Jason withdrew and cursed under his breath.  “Had I known I would hurt you, I never would have touched you there.”

“Oh, I would expect you to know everything about pregnancy.”  The poor man appeared so contrite she could not resist teasing him.  “I mean, the day we arrived at Stratfield, you had nary a scrap of food in the kitchen stores, yet you have enough brandy to see you through winter for the next ten years, I imagine.”

“Point taken.”  He grinned.  “May I ask a favor?”

“Of course.”  She studied the chiseled muscles of his torso, as he stripped.  “This is, after all, your home.”

“Our home.”  Naked, he blew out the candles and then joined her in bed.  As he situated the pillow, as she liked it, she turned on her side and rested her head on his shoulder.  “Allow me to attend your needs until you hire a lady’s maid.”

“What?”  In the dark, she flinched.  “You can’t be serious.”

“On the contrary, I am deadly serious.”

“But—why?”  The prospect bloody well terrified her.  “I mean a lady’s maid does more than dress me.  She helps me bath and styles my hair, among other things.”

“Excepting your coiffure, I would be happy to do whatever you require, as I am your husband.”  As always, he ran his fingers through her hair and then rubbed her scalp.  “Give me a chance, sweetheart.  I promise, I will not fail you.  And we could use the opportunity to foster intimacy, as a newlywed couple.”

Fear resurfaced with a vengeance, as Alex considered his simple but profound proposal.  How lonely she had been when she left Plymouth.  And those six long months without him had been absolute misery mixed with terror, given the daunting prospect of her ruin and her children’s bastardy.  But Jason had compensated for her deficiencies.  Had he not earned a measure of reprieve?

Even as she considered the possibilities, she could not stifle a shiver of unease.  “All right, Jason.  You may act as my lady’s maid.”

CHAPTER TEN

“Jason, stop.”  With arms outstretched and fingers flicking, Alex giggled.  “What are you about?”

“It is a surprise.”  Standing behind his wife, covering her eyes with his palms, he kissed her temple and nodded to Phipps.  “Are you ready?”

“Oh, yes.”  She all but bounced on her heels.  “I am uncontrollably excited.”

A fortnight had passed since he had launched his voluptuous attack of his erstwhile-spirited bride, and he had tarried with due diligence to achieve a particular milestone in the battle to win her heart.  The nighttime massages had gained him some, but not enough, ground to induce her to share her body, and he had developed some serious callouses while tending his own needs.  If he were lucky, his gift might prove a crowning finish—the
coup de grâce
in their private war.

“All right, no peeking.”  With a hearty chuckle, he stepped to the side, as he wanted to gauge Alex’s reaction when she spied the new nanny, for the first time.  The manservant opened the door and granted entry to the woman Jason had hired to nurse the babes.  “You are not to look until I permit it.”

“Please, hurry.”  Hugging her belly, she shuffled her feet.  “Neither I nor your children can bear the suspense.”

“Then you may open your eyes.”  A swell of pride filled his chest, as he anticipated the litany of ways his wife might express her gratitude.  “For you, darling.”

“I beg your pardon?”  For some odd reason, Alex winced, blinked, and her smile faltered.  “Is this your idea of a joke, as I do not understand your meaning?”

“My lady Alex, allow me to introduce Miss Goodbody.”  Perhaps his bride would, at last, admit him to weigh anchor in her harbor, as he had been adrift for far too long.  “She is to care for my heirs.”

“So pleased to meet your ladyship.”  The nursemaid offered a less than elegant curtsey.  “And although I have never been a nanny, I promise to do my best to attend to your babes.”

A strangled cry permeated the quiet, as Alex bared her teeth.  So his wife had thought him incompetent?  Well, it appeared Jason had managed to confound her, and he had composed a lengthy list of circumstances by which he would show his affection, as he quite enjoyed the moment.

“Miss Goodbody, would you mind waiting in the drawing room?”  With a clenched fist pressed to her bosom, Alex inhaled a shaky breath.  “I need to speak with Captain Collingwood, in private.”

“Of course, ma’am.”  The nursemaid bowed and exited the study.

Without hesitation, Alex waddled to the door, turned the key in the lock, and Jason came alert in a flash.  Passion kindled beneath his flesh, and fire erupted in his loins, as he foresaw a few licentious kisses, at least.  Or had his bride intended a full-scale seduction?  Yes, that was his thought—until she marched to stand toe to toe with him and slapped his face.

“You bastard.”  Then his firebrand grabbed the lapels of his jacket.  “How dare you bring your whore into my home.  Where did you find her—the docks?”

“Alex, I—”

“And pigs will fly before I allow her anywhere near my children.”  Then she grimaced and gasped.  With a couple of steps in retreat, she again hugged her belly.  “Never would I have believed you capable of such cruelty, but if you plan to install your mistress in this house, then you had better bid farewell to your most male member.  As God is my witness, I will cut it off, slice it as bread, roast it in the oven, and serve it to you for dinner.  Then I shall return to Penhurst, even if I have to walk the entire distance.  And if you attempt to stay me, there will be a fine wake in this residence.”

Stunned by the impressive display of fury, Jason remained stock-still, as Alex stomped from the study.  At first, ire raged, given her churlish response to his generosity.

How dare he?

How dare she.

After all his hard work, after all his good intentions, how could his wife refuse his gift?  And what was he to make of her scathing accusation?  How had he ignored her desires, given pregnancy limited his opportunities to provide assistance?  Once their children were born, he could assume a more active role in her schedule, as she enjoyed little time for herself.  Trevor and Everett had advised their spouses benefited from such support.

So where had Jason erred?

For several minutes, he replayed Alex’s outburst—and then a new realization dawned.  Slowly, he smiled.  Indeed, his present may not have produced the expected response, but her remarkable display of temper had him laughing.  Now that was
his
Alex, the heretofore-brazen hellion, so absent of late, he dearly missed.  To his infinite relief, the woman of his dreams persisted somewhere beneath the downcast façade and timid demeanor, and he had only to resurrect her.  While he may have crushed her spirit, he had not destroyed it.