She stared up at him, frozen and wary.
“I am your husband. I won’t ever hurt you. I have your best interests at heart. Nod your head if you at least understand what I’ve said.”
She nodded.
“Good, a healthy start. I want to make something else very clear to you. I will make love to you every night. I want you to become used to me, to trust me. I want to erase all the other men, I want you to simply dismiss all the meanness and violence of your uncle from your mind. I want you to think only of me, of us.”
“It is very difficult.”
“I know, but today you were a hellion again, a possessive wench, the savage Amazon who saved my hide in Jamaica from Thomas’s knife. So I have hope. Now, let’s get that nightgown off you. I want no clothes between us, Sophie, not at night, not when we’re alone. I want to look at you. I want to feel your breasts in my hands.”
“Ryder, I really don’t want—”
“I don’t give a good damn, Sophie, so stop your bleating. Tonight, perhaps you will allow yourself to have some pleasure. I’m going to kiss you, every sweet inch of you. I will never give up on you, so you might as well accustom yourself to coming about to meet me halfway.”
He kept talking, nonsense really, some of it quite amusing, and he would have given anything for a simple smile from her. But she just lay there, silent and withdrawn. She didn’t fight him, but she held herself stiff, her hands fisted at her sides. Ryder wanted to nibble on her toes, he wanted to taste the soft flesh between her thighs, but the woman who lay on her back beneath him wasn’t about to give an inch. Oddly enough, he wasn’t unduly disturbed: he hadn’t lied to her. He would never give up. She didn’t realize it yet but they would be together until they shucked off their mortal coils. “I see I will have to wait a while longer to kiss every white inch of you.” He did kiss her breasts, enjoying the taste of her, the texture of her flesh, and his hands were on her belly, and then lower, his fingers finding her and lightly stroking her. She tried to pull away. He stopped. It was a beginning.
Ryder wasn’t about to enter her until she could take him without pain. He’d promised her and he wouldn’t break his promise. No more savaging her as he’d done the previous night. He simply drew away from her, patted her cheek, and told her to stay put. He fetched a jar of cream from the night table beside the bed.
“What is that?” Her eyes never left his fingers, which were dipping into that jar.
“You will see. Hush.”
He pushed her back down onto her back and held her there, his hand on her belly, pressing her thighs open with his legs, while he eased his slick finger inside her. He closed his eyes a moment at the feel of her. Dear God, he wanted her. He smoothed in the cream slowly and gently, his finger going more deeply into her, and then he inserted a second finger to widen her. It was almost more than he could bear. She was trembling and trying to pull away from him, but he held her still.
“Stop, damn you!” She tried to bring her legs together, but succeeded only in pushing his finger deeper inside her.
“Shush, sweetheart. No, I will use cream on you until you let me love you properly. Don’t you like my finger sliding inside you, Sophie?”
“No.”
“I like it very much. I will do it every time we make love. Get used to it. Ah, you’re more yielding, Sophie. Can you feel it? You’re softening for me though your active brain doesn’t like it.”
When he’d widened her, when he had made her soft and ready, he came over her. Very slowly, he came into her, controlling his entry, watching her face in the candlelight. There was no pain, he knew it, and he knew that she wouldn’t ever be able to throw that up at him again. He also knew that he wouldn’t be able to bring her to pleasure this time either. What was important was that her body begin to recognize him, that when he touched her, she would eventually respond without her mind trying to dismiss him.
He would have her yet. Patience was all he needed. He stroked deeply into her now, then pulled nearly out of her. He continued slowly, every feeling in him attuned to her. It suddenly occurred to him that he was behaving quite differently with Sophie than he had with every other woman in his male life. Before, when he’d come into a woman, he’d known almost instant irreversible lust. He couldn’t have stopped if a tidal wave had swamped him. But not with Sophie. She was at the center of all his feelings. His body, his mind, both were focused entirely on her. He would do anything to bring her around and he didn’t care how long it took him to succeed. He would win. His own body would wait. Another novel occurrence, and one Douglas would doubtless disbelieve.
He remembered his brother’s joke about having his valet sew his britches shut because Ryder couldn’t stop once he’d begun, he couldn’t make himself withdraw from a woman. With Sophie it was different, simply because he was different.
He wished he could make her laugh. He lightly caressed his fingers over her belly, down, to find her again. He teased her soft woman’s flesh, nothing more, just teased and stroked. Soon she would respond to him. And he kissed her and didn’t stop kissing her.
He found his release eventually, but he didn’t yell like a wild man. He moaned his pleasure into her mouth, holding her close to him, letting her feel the movement of his sex deep inside her, letting her feel the heat of his body.
He was amazed at himself and pleased. It was a start. She was lying there, but this time there were no tears. If he wasn’t mistaken, she looked surprised. Exactly about what, he wasn’t sure. He continued kissing her until he eased off her. Then he pulled her against him, stroked her hair, massaged her scalp, and said quietly, “Now I will keep my promise. Remember? I said I would tell you a story if you were good to me. You did well, Sophie. You will do better the next time and the next time after that. Now, this story is about a one-legged pirate who found himself marooned with three lusty women. The first woman’s name was Belle and she was a strapping girl, all breasts and wide hips. Well, she fell instantly in love with him—of course he was the only man she’d seen in a good three months. She flung him onto the beach and ripped off his clothes. But then the second woman came along—her name was Goosie—and she saw that wooden leg and knew this was the man for her. Her favorite hobby was carving wood into ships and such. She’d carved up a good dozen palm trees during those long three months. So the two women were arguing and shouting at each other and the pirate was lying there quite naked and grinning like an ape at his good fortune, when the other woman—her name was Brassy—came along. You wouldn’t believe what she did.”
Sophie gave out a loud snort, then settled into snoring.
“Very well, you don’t as yet appreciate my stories. Tomorrow night I’ll continue with my tale, and you’ll learn what Belle and Goosie and Brassy all did to this poor one-legged pirate.”
He kissed her forehead, and whispered against her damp flesh, “Perhaps tomorrow night you might like to put the cream on your hand and slick it over me. What do you think?”
She said quite clearly, “No. I would rather cosh your thick head and heave you and all your damned women into the sea.”
“On the other hand,” he continued, pleased as a rooster turned free in the hen yard, “perhaps tomorrow night we won’t need the cream. I’m an optimist, and I’m your husband.”
“How many women do you have? How many mistresses?”
“More than three, at least I did. They’re all in the past now.”
She stiffened.
“That was the first thing I heard when I arrived in Montego Bay. You had three lovers. Well, I have known more women than you were reputed to have known men. I won’t lie about that. It was before I’d met you and wanted you and married you.”
“I don’t care if you keep them all.”
It was such an obvious lie that he merely leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose.
“You’re beautiful,” he said.
“You’re the one who is myopic, not your damned brother.”
“Ah, a bit of vinegar, a dab of testiness. Let’s get some sleep. I fancy that I will wake you up early in the morning. You’ll be all sweet and warm with sleep, Sophie, and I’ll come inside you, and it will be slow and gentle and you will enjoy it. At least a bit.”
She said not a word. Ryder didn’t despair.
When he awoke the next morning and reached for her, she was gone. Well, hell, he thought. He wouldn’t tell her of his fond plans again.
“Alex,” Ryder said to his sister-in-law the following morning at the breakfast table. “I would appreciate you taking Sophie around to meet our neighbors. As for a ball, let’s wait a while for that.”
“Ah, so you realize this girl won’t do well with all our illustrious friends.”
Ryder merely smiled at his mother. She had come armed to the breakfast table, and she’d fired her opening salvo immediately. “No, not at all,” Ryder said easily. “On Friday, Sophie and I are going to our own home, to Chadwyck House.”
There was instant pandemonium at the table.
“You can’t mean it!”
“Goodness, Ryder, you just got home! This is your home!”
And from Douglas, nothing, merely a smile, nearly hidden as he slowly sipped his coffee.
Alex said slowly, her voice instantly quieting the voices, “That gives us two days, Sophie. There is also the matter of clothes for you. We don’t have much time.”
It was at that instant that Sophie realized Jeremy wasn’t smiling. He was staring down at his plate.
Again, Ryder, the bounder, seemed to know exactly what was going on. He knew exactly what to do. He said easily, “Well, Jeremy, I hope you don’t mind staying for a couple of weeks here at Northcliffe Hall. I know Sinjun can be the very devil, a veritable nodcock, but if you think you can abide her for a while, then you may remain here.”
Jeremy shot a guilty look at his sister. Sophie forced a smile. “It’s up to you, Jeremy.”
“Sinjun’s going to take me to Branderleigh Farm to buy a pony,” he burst out, half guilt, half unmistakable excitement.
And that was that. Sophie found out from Sinjun that Ryder was paying for the pony.
During that day and the next two days, while Sophie was meeting all their neighbors, and being fitted for new clothes, Ryder was visiting his former lovers. Of course they all already knew he was married. Bea had called a meeting. Three of the five women were interested in marrying. He presented the names on his list and left them each to ponder the good points of each man. Emily was still in bed, recovering from childbirth, but she would mend and he even made her smile twice. The other two wanted to go try their luck in London. He gave them money and wished them luck. As for Bea, he simply shook his head when she opened the door of her cottage to him just after luncheon.
“Busy Bea,” he said, and hugged her. “I swear you would do me in if you weren’t so fond of me.”
“Good thing for you that I am, Master Ryder!”
She loved to call him master, it was one of her favorite fantasies. Bea had great common sense and the most unusual preferences of any woman he’d ever known.
“I hear you’ve visited all your women and presented them with possible husbands.”
Ryder rolled his eyes as he followed her into her small pristine drawing room. “Would you care to peruse the list for yourself?”
“Oh, not me, sir. I’m off to London to make my fortune, just like Laura and Molly. Actually, I think I’ll ask Emily to come with me. The last thing she needs to do is fall into a decline. That’s when a female is most vulnerable. I’ll make certain she doesn’t fall into the clutches of another despotic man. It’s a boardinghouse I’m thinking about, Master Ryder, all my own. I’ve saved enough money, you know. You’re a generous man, but still a man. I will remain my own woman and I will find another lover as polished as you are.”
She ground to a halt and he picked up her hand and brought it to his lips. “There are no other men to be found who are as polished as I am.”
She laughed and punched his arm.
“Now, my dear, I don’t want you owning just any boardinghouse, no, I want you to buy a property in a very good section of London. I will give you the name of the Sherbrooke solicitor in London and he will see to it for you. Also, you will get a boardinghouse dowry from me.”
“You will miss me, Ryder.”
“Oh yes. I most certainly will. Wish me luck with my new wife, Bea.”
“You need luck with a woman?”
“More than you know. I’ve met my match.”
As Ryder rode away from Bea’s cottage, he wondered if perhaps Sophie would enjoy playing slave girl to his master. Perhaps he could bring her around to it by November. Yes, the days would be shorter then and it would be chilly outside. It would mean long hours in front of the fireplace. He pictured her wearing soft veils, her hair long down her back, teasing him, and he would have her dance for him, like Salome. It would lead to laughter, this kind of play, and to passion. Then he wondered what the ghost had meant by “when they come...”
CHAPTER 17
RYDER’S LAST STOP of the afternoon was at Jane Jasper’s spacious three-story house just outside of the small village of Hadleigh Dale that lay seven miles east of Northcliffe Hall. The house and drive were surrounded by oak and lime trees, thick and green now. He heard his children yelling and laughing before he saw them. He smiled in anticipation as he turned Genesis onto the short drive and dug his heels into his stallion’s sides.
Jane and her three helpers, all young women with immense energy and goodwill, all of whom he’d selected himself, were standing in the front yard watching the children play. There were four boys and three girls, all between the ages of four and ten. They were well clothed, clean, loud, and Ryder felt such pleasure at the sight of them that he wanted to shout.
He saw Oliver standing a bit off to the side, a tall, thin boy of ten, leaning on his crutches, but there was a grin on his face as he shouted advice to Jaime, all of six years old and full of male bravado, on how to smash the grit out of Tom, a cherub-faced little boy who could curse more fluently than a Southampton sailor. John, the peacemaker at only eight, a barking spaniel nipping at his heels, was trying to keep them from coming to blows.