Miller, Raine - The Undoing of a Libertine (Siren Publishing Classic) (16 page)

“I know. That’s what Papa said to me yesterday. I thought he was talking about Lord Pellton the whole time and why I fainted when I realized it was you who had come for me.”

Jeremy could only respond with a snarl, a scowl curling his upper lip. His teeth clenched over his jaw, and he felt his neck grow taut. “He’ll not come near you, or he’ll be sleeping in a coffin, the bastard!”

He wasn’t sure what to do about Pellton and his nephew. The guard from the bordello, Luc, was now a paid informant. And he had a name for the shit bastard, too—Simon Strawnly.

Jeremy’s ultimate priority was to protect his wife, both her person and her reputation. He couldn’t allow further pain to touch her and intended that she never discover the identity of her attacker. Acting like a crazed bull whenever Pellton’s name was mentioned might not be the best means of concealment though.

“Sorry, sweetheart. That was unseemly of me, but I never liked him.” He grinned, feeling rather sheepish.

“On that we do agree, and I’m sorry I mentioned his name. I won’t do it again. Tell me about your home?” she asked again.

“It is
our
home now, and it is lovely. Hallborough Park overlooks the sea at Kilve. From the sea path you can look across the channel and see the Brecon Beacons in South Wales if the sky is clear. The Quantock Hills lie behind us. The flowers on the heath are spectacular in summer. You can hear the waves. I think the sound of the sea is one of the most comforting in all the world. We’ll take our walks along the beach, and at night we can watch the stars shine over the ocean from the house. I’ve arranged for your horse to be brought along with Samson, and you’ll be able to ride as you wish. Have you ever ridden along the sand?”

“No, but it sounds so wonderful.”

“Our neighbors, the Rourkes, are good friends, Darius and Marianne. They are recently wed, only since summer, and I think you’ll like her. I know she’ll welcome you very kindly. Marianne likes to sketch landscapes, and I’ve seen your sketches. You’re very good. The two of you will have that in common.”

“I can’t wait to meet your friends. What of your grandparents, Jeremy?”

“They live in London nearly all the year, but I’ll take you to meet them soon. They will adore you, Georgina, if only for the fact that you married me. When Grandfather gets a look at you, he’ll worship the ground you walk on. We’ll also go for the Season each spring and take our place, and the business is there of course, but for now I just want to have you all to myself at Hallborough.”

As she looked up at him, her amber eyes clear and bright, listening to him rambling, she just looked so beautiful, he had to touch her. A finger reached out and started at her eyebrow and drew around her face in a complete circle. On the second pass around he traced her lips, remembering how sweet they tasted.

“You’ll be the princess of Hallborough Park, and I’ll protect you, and adore you, and make gorgeous babies with you. How does that sound?” He watched her face for anything akin to discomfort at his frank suggestion, but didn’t find it. She just smiled in her unruffled way.

“Perfect, and makes me feel like I am a princess for truth. You make me feel like that, Jeremy. You are Sir Jeremy, the gallant knight who rescued me.”

How about the knave who can’t wait to get the beauteous princess into his bed!
“I am glad, sweetheart. I’ll try valiantly to remain worthy of your esteem, dear lady.” He bowed his head.

“Always, Jeremy.”

He prayed her confidence in him would hold true later when the time came to take her to bed. He didn’t feel at all like a gallant knight. More like a licentious cad.

His honorable intentions toward Georgina had left him in a state of varying degrees of arousal for weeks. Jeremy hadn’t been with a woman since the night he’d met Tom Russell in London. And he felt it—right down the length of his aching cock.

* * * *

Jeremy breathed in the smell the sea the moment he stepped out of the coach and found it fortifying. Dusk was just beginning to darken the sky, and the sound of the surf hummed at the shore far below.

With a dramatic flourish, Jeremy helped his bride to exit and led her to the staff awaiting them on the front steps. The dark-gray stone of Hallborough Manor rose up silent before them, buffeted by the evening ocean breeze. The house had been extensively remodeled sixty years prior in the revivalist Gothic style, its tall pointed window arches pointing heavenward, evoking a kind of ancient spirituality among the natural elements of sea and earth and rock.

The housekeeper, Mrs. Richards, and his steward, Mr. Mills, received the couple warmly, having prepared for their arrival fastidiously. The torches ablaze outside, the chandeliers shining through the windows from the inside offered an earnest welcome and were so very comforting to Jeremy. He wanted Georgina to love this home as much as he did.

A quick introduction to staff and a very brief tour was all the time they had before the dinner hour was upon them.

Cook outdid herself on the regal dinner set out for the newlyweds. There were scalloped oysters in a white soup, flaky croquettes, and roast venison among a dozen other dishes they hardly touched. They served each other as was the custom, and Jeremy poured the wine. He noted that she drank two goblets and thought that was probably a good idea.

They stared at each other over their plates, Jeremy imagining how gorgeous she would look tonight and wondering how to do this without scaring her. He refilled her glass a third time and offered the lemon custard tart with a smile. Georgina returned the smile, accepted the wine, and declined the custard tart.

Now that he had her safe from Pellton and Strawnly, he still had another problem. Jeremy wasn’t completely sure how to curb his rough nature when in the throes of the act.

He’d always liked his sex unconventional and had never tried or had reason to rein himself in. A little rough, dominating, experimental, he’d done just about everything possible with his cock and mouth and fingers in and on a woman’s body. He’d done plenty of fucking, all with people he felt nothing for. He’d never made love to a woman though. In that realm, he was a doe-eyed virgin.

The added complication of Georgina’s brutal assault made her all the more fragile. He knew he couldn’t be how he’d been before. Not with her. That kind of sex was over for him.

* * * *

I can do this.
Despite telling herself repeatedly like a chant, Georgina wasn’t so sure. She had agreed, signed her name, and left her home under the protection of her husband. Yes, husband. She had a husband. A husband who expected to be welcomed into her bed to begin their marital duties.
I can do this.

She thought of Jeremy and what she knew of him. He was kind and gentle. Very gallant. Amusing, too. Just last night he’d held her in bed, and she’d never felt safer than she had in his embrace as she drifted to sleep. Surely he wouldn’t hurt—

“Your bath, ma’am.” The maid spoke softly.

“Thank you, Jane.” Georgina presented her back, grateful for the interruption into her runaway thoughts that could lead no place good.

Jane helped her out of the gold gown she’d changed into for traveling and into a steaming bath behind a paper screen. The girl was young, probably not more than eighteen, but surprisingly efficient for an inexperienced lady’s maid. Mrs. Richards had introduced Jane as her niece, explaining that she would fill in until such time as interviews for a proper maid could be arranged. The girl seemed scared to death, and Georgina’s heart went out to her. The poor thing had probably been threatened with punishment if she displeased the new mistress.

“Are you new to this house?” Georgina asked through the screen.

“Yes, ma’am. I arrived just yesterday, but I haven’t come from far away. Just the next village over.” Her voice caught slightly.

“Ah, but it’s not what you’re used to is it?”

“Not really, ma’am. I left behind seven brothers and sisters at home.” She trailed off and then thought better of it because she spoke the rest faster and louder. “But I am pleased to serve you however I may, Mrs. Greymont.” The girl was honest at least, and Georgina liked that.

“I can see that you are. I am sure everything will be well met, Jane. Worry not. This house is new to me as well.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She sounded brighter as she moved off to put away the garments Georgina had removed.

The hot water felt good, soothing and loosening her muscles stiff from being confined in the coach for hours. Jeremy hadn’t demanded anything during the long ride other than to hold her next to him and to kiss her. Georgina smiled, remembering how Jeremy had said he loved kissing her. His kisses were very welcome. No worries there. If only this bedding dilemma were as simple as kisses, she’d be much more at ease.

Georgina took a bar of violet-scented soap and drew it up her arm, returning to thoughts of her new husband. A perfect gentleman the whole trip, but intuition told her he wanted more and held himself back from displaying it. He knew what had been done to her and didn’t want her frightened of him. He said so. He came to her bedroom last night to get her used to him. That was his intention.
Because he plans to come to your bed tonight and this time it won’t be merely for sleep.

They had discussed it last night. He said when they were together in that way, it would be within the bounds of matrimony. Well, that was now. Jeremy was coming in a short while to do all those things he wished to do with her, and she must allow him.
Dear God, help me to do this.

She had been in so much pain…after her attack. Her body had ached in every place, and there had been injuries to parts of her that made her worry she mightn’t be able to grow a child due to damage.
Please don’t let it hurt like that.
The doctor had reported her well recovered though, and Georgina prayed he was right, for she truly wanted her own children. To be a mother and hold her own babies was a dream she held in her heart.

Georgina thought of her mother, Anne, and felt the pang of missing her gentle embrace and wisdom. She felt so lost and confused. There was nobody to whom she could share her fears about what was to happen tonight. Who could she have spoken to about such things? Her father? Her brother? Not likely. They both just kept telling her that marrying and starting a family was the best cure for what she’d borne and would help her to put the past away.

Please don’t let it hurt like before.

Georgina finished with the soap, rinsed herself, and stepped out of the bath. She dried her skin briskly with a thick towel to ward off the chill.

“Your nightgown, ma’am.” Jane draped a sheer yellow gown over the screen.

Georgina reached for it and drew it over her head. It was made of the thinnest cotton gauze but fully gathered at the sleeves and neckline which dipped low. It would be easy work for him to push it off her shoulders and bare her breasts. Might he leave her gown on? She shook her head with a firm shake. Somehow she knew Jeremy would wish it off. Strangely the thought of him seeing her body didn’t bother her too much. She was more worried about all of the other things he would do to her body.

Please help me to do this duty to my husband.

“Your hair, ma’am. Shall I brush it out for you?”

“Please do.” Georgina nodded and sat down before the dressing table, willing her nerves to settle. She watched Jane in the mirror, carefully removing the pins that held her hair up, one by one until at last her hair fell free. It tapered to a point at the middle of her back where Jane started the brushing. She began at the end and worked her way up slowly without painful tugs and snags. She might be an inexperienced lady’s maid, but she knew how to brush out long hair.

“You have lovely hair, Mrs. Greymont. It is very soft.”

“You have a lovely touch at brushing it, Jane. Your sisters must have long hair, for you know how to do it gently.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I have two sisters and am well acquainted with the brushing of long locks.” Jane moved through each section of hair until every strand had been tamed. “Would you like a braid, Mrs. Greymont?”