Chapter 13
Quentin left Jasper and Irene to their own devises for getting home. Jasper was going to hire a carriage of some sort to drive home with Irene so Quentin didn’t wait for them. He rode as long and as hard as he could to get home. He stopped in coaching inns at night as he found them and was home in just under three days.
Faith had heard the horse coming up the drive and had run out to Quentin. The separation had been difficult for her too. She had worried for the safety of them all. A groom took the reins from Quentin’s hands as he wrapped his arms around Faith and drew in her flower-garden odour.
“I have been miserable without you, Faith. Does that seem silly when it has only been eight days?” he mumbled into her neck.
“Don’t talk. Come with me now,” she ordered. She dragged him up to their room and began to take his clothes off him and then her own. He grinned the whole time.
“I hope you haven’t got lascivious ideas roaming around in your head,” he joked.
“They are certainly not in my head.” she groaned from frustration.
He seemed too slow in taking off his boots and clothes.
“I am not the cleanest person as I’ve been riding all day.”
“I don’t care,” she said as she pushed him into a chair and began pulling off his second boot. “I’ll just have to refrain from licking you.”
He picked her up and swirled her around, her feet off the ground. Then he kissed her fully. She sighed into his mouth and then neither of them remembered what came next. They had been lucky that they had reached the bed.
Jasper and Irene arrived home the next afternoon.
They made their presence known to Quentin before disappearing, each to his or her room, to try to recapture a semblance of dignity. Jasper also needed to be alone to think. He got Biggs to prepare a bath for him, to combine his return to civilised living with his thinking.
The last ten days had shaken up his whole way of looking at life. In fact, it was more than ten days; it had been since he had arrived in Marshalswick. He didn’t like children much. That sentiment had been confirmed by the two at Marshalswick House. He certainly had no desire, whatsoever, to have any of his own. Let his brother’s brood worry about the title when he was gone.
What had left its mark was the activity, the life in Marshalswick. It was impossible to be bored or indifferent. He wouldn’t be able to survive long on a diet of constant activity because it would drive him mad, but, it had made him aware of the difference of being alone or with someone. He didn’t want to be solitary any more. That brought him to Irene.
It was really quite amazing the number of significant things they had in common. He began counting on wet fingers the main points that he felt important.
He admitted that his education hadn’t been terribly serious. Irene was certainly not a blue-stocking either. However, neither of them was stupid. She had a lively mind which had the facility for subtle manipulation. His was just that little bit more developed, that little bit more experienced than hers.
They both appreciated anything of high quality and in the best taste. Yes, they were both materialistic.
They were not interested in children, and she had convinced him without trying that she did not want any more.
He now knew that she was wealthy, which meant that it wasn’t his money that interested her.
She might be interested in his title, so what did it matter?
They enjoyed each other’s sense of humour. It is difficult to feign laughing.
They appreciated each other’s physical aspects even though they hadn’t crossed the line sexually. He could see the way she looked at him when she thought he wasn’t aware.
She took his breath away. He felt drunk when they kissed. Even now, thinking of her, he felt himself stirring with desire. That had never happened before without the woman being in front of him. He’d always had control and it had only ever been purely physical pleasure. If he was considered an exceptional lover, it was because he liked to draw out his own pleasure. That might certainly be enhanced by the fact he was circumcised, no matter. It came back to this new state of him desiring Irene, even in her absence.
Did that influence his judgement? Yes.
He supposed that she was still in danger. When the Count finally realised that his first attempt of retrieving her had failed, he would probably send a second delegation to get her. He had the money and the means.
Would he still bother if he knew she’d married? There was no guarantee that it would stop him trying to get revenge. The only viable way of escaping him would be to disappear, possibly, seem to die.
If she then married, all traces of her would be swallowed up in her husband’s name and affairs and they could live in any country. The world was large and even Count Cuda wasn’t that powerful.
Did he wish to marry her? He supposed that he did. This was certainly the first time he had ever wanted to take someone away with him. It boiled down to the selfish attitude that this was probably as good as it would get for him, so he shouldn’t let the occasion escape. The funny thing was, he was absolutely certain that this was what Irene was telling herself.
So, they were both selfish but they understood each other. No illusions there. The only question that hung in suspension was – should he have sex with her before proposing, in case they were incompatible? It was a gamble, because if they weren’t compatible, and he didn’t marry her, he would be alone again.
No, no. He didn’t want that. He was thirty four years old and he would never be able to start the process of looking for someone again. He knew already that he would never find anyone more suited to him than Irene. He sank down in the bath, letting the water wash over his head, taking his last doubts with it. He arose a new man. His new life, hopefully, was about to begin.
Dinner brought everyone together and was, surprisingly, a pleasant affair. Each person had a reason for being agreeable and the result was an evening that passed easily, leaving a feeling of camaraderie that had never existed before. Irene had managed to look sophisticated in spite of the healthy colour that she had acquired from living without a bonnet.
She had worn a heavy, satin gown of deep burgundy with black brocade trim. It had had the effect of making her skin look paler. Her jewellery was of the blackest, shiniest jet. Her choice of dress immediately reminded Jasper of her diabolical tendencies. She was definitely devilish with the conversation at the table, having a sharp, witty response when it called for one. Quentin didn’t ignore her or ridicule her in any way, so it seemed that a new state of grace had come into its own.
Faith was easily the opposite side of the coin to Irene. Her pale blue moiré dress changed colour as she moved, the white silk chiffon about her shoulders gave the impression that clouds were passing, while the sparkling diamond and sapphire earrings that Quentin had given her, added to the illusion that she was celestial. Her conversation at the table was in every way equal in wit to that of Irene’s. In fact, both women outshone the men, who were subjugated by their partners.
Jasper decided that the moment had arrived when he would discuss with Irene the ploy of ‘disappearing’ before marrying him. The only doubt that subsisted in his mind was that she might not want to leave her children after all. He would have to convince her that it would be the one action that could dissuade the Count from continuing his search. What mother would abandon her children? (He didn’t take into account that she already had abandoned them once). It might encourage him to believe that she was dead. He would speak to her after they had said their good nights to everyone.
Quentin and Faith wasted no time in disappearing into their room after dinner. The discussion that Jasper had planned to have, in all seriousness with Irene, didn’t take place as she somehow managed to corner him and then proceeded to seduce him with a speed that took his breath away. He hadn’t been on his guard.
‘She shouldn’t have done it,’ Jasper tried to tell himself each time he surfaced from e
cstasy. She’d managed to get him in her room and lock the door.
‘I have to talk to her…’ as she dragged him under again. Icy Irene was not icy at all. It seemed that she had finally found a match, or if one wanted to be clever, the match that had lit her fuse.
Jasper could not believe that they were so well accorded. Their love making was tuned to perfect pitch. The amazing thing was, she said that it was the first time in her life that she had ever behaved so wantonly. If he were to believe her, and there was no reason that he shouldn’t, she had never before had an orgasm. Now she was making up for lost years. His own years of experience only just allowed him to take precautions with their love making. Probably the horror of having a child, was the best contraceptive he would ever need.
As far as Irene was concerned, she didn’t seem to be concerned at all about the possible consequences. It was evident that she had been carried away by her newly discovered passion and was incapable of thinking of anything else. Jasper had ended up by dragging himself from the room to cool his over-stimulated libido. When in his life had he ever done that? Irene would feel a little different when she came to her senses and realised that she had abandoned her principals about not having more children, for a few hours of pleasure. Luckily, he hadn’t.
He was going to have to stock up with the rather expensive sheaths that he normally used, as he wasn’t sure that he could continue to resist the whirlpool of emotions she created. No cost was too great, though, to avoid the conception of a child.
It was decided the next morning, when they were both sane, that they would leave for Scotland after Quentin and Faith’s wedding. Their first stop would be Gretna Green to marry and then on to Dumfries, where Jasper had a hunting lodge. She would have conveniently disappeared while they decided exactly where they would go from there. The order of events wasn’t quite right but there was little chance, anyway, that the Italians would bother to go as far north as that cold, uncivilised country, Scotland.
The children wouldn’t be going there either.