Jeremy could do all of that for her and would be happy to be of service. In fact, the idea of leaving the bed, leaving her body right now was an unbearable notion.
“Maybe later?”
“What?” Did he hear correctly? Did she say “later” to the sex?
“I—I thought I’d have a bath…and maybe some tea?” She lifted her lashes, her eyes hopeful.
He felt his cock wither, and the guilt took over from there. “Shit! Aw, pardon the language. Of course! You must need some privacy, and food, for God’s sake!” His shoulders fell. “Gina, I am a beast, and I apologize. I don’t know anything about being married. I’m an insensible lout who can’t keep away from you for a—” He shut off the lunatic babbling coming from his mouth and leapt off of her and out of the bed. He grabbed his robe and shoved his body into it.
His back was to her. Gina was still lying like a goddess in that bed, and he was afraid to turn around and see her face. Afraid of what she must think of him. What a “prize” she had won. Lucky her! A rutting ape for a husband who could think of nothing but sticking his cock into her while she suffered of hunger and thirst. And with a past like hers! God! A knife would be a useful tool right about now…for slicing off his traitorous balls.
“Jeremy?” Her voice called to him, soft and gentle.
“Hmmm?” Still with his back to her. Still afraid to look.
“Turn around and look at me.” Her voice was firm.
He obeyed, but he didn’t want to. He turned his neck and looked over his shoulder, wishing instead he could run out the door and board a ship bound for the nearest penal colony.
The sight that met his eyes was lovely though. Gina had sat up in the bed and now leaned against the headboard. The sheet was pulled over her splendid breasts, flattening them somewhat, and held in place with her arm. Dark-blonde waves settled over her shoulders, and her lips were all puffy from being kissed for hours.
She was the epitome of sensual beauty. A woman fresh from a night of slippery sex and numbing pleasure, looking well ridden and fulfilled but still as alluring as if she were an untouched maiden. And she was smiling at him. And crooking her finger. And calling him over to her!
Again, he obeyed, some small part of his brain shocked at how easily she commanded him, but knowing he couldn’t or wouldn’t do anything else. He stopped at the edge of the bed, awaiting whatever she had for him.
Gina patted the mattress next to her, still smiling that unruffled grin of hers that he recognized as her signature expression.
He sat down carefully, praying he could maintain some self-control in spite of being so close to her very soft and very naked body. He folded his hands tightly in his lap. “I am ashamed—”
“You should not be,” she interrupted, pressing two fingers to his lips.
“But I’ve not seen to you as I should.” He spoke right through her fingers. “I’ve kept you here in this bed, giving you no time for yourself—”
She pressed a little harder with her fingers. He blinked at her and kept right on speaking. “You have to tell me! Gina, I’m an imbecile. I don’t know anything about—”
She kissed him on the lips to shut him up. And thank Christ she did. Who knows how many other sins he might have confessed.
“I disagree with you, Mr. Greymont. I have it on good authority that my husband knows many things. So he is definitely not an imbecile.” She peppered each statement with short kisses. “He has been nothing but sweet and gentle and caring of me,” she said firmly, “but now, I think the time has come to leave the bed and have our breakfast, and then I’d like a tour of my beautiful new home.”
He nodded stupidly before finding his voice. “And you shall have your wish, my sweetheart. Again, I apologize for being so ravenous with you, but I know it’s inevitable whenever you are near. From the moment I saw you in that rainstorm and smelled your scent.” He tilted toward her neck and inhaled. “Is that eglantine you use? I love the way you smell.”
She smiled some more at him. “Eglantine with a hint of orange. It’s what my mother wore and reminds me of her. I’m glad you like it, Jeremy, and no more apologizing for being as—as a husband wishes to be with a wife. I’m happy that you want me, and I don’t mind that you are…ravenous…” Her voice trailed off, that adorable shyness creeping in again.
He leaned in for a soft kiss and then looked down to where the sheet covered her breasts. “You are a beautiful woman. I love to look at you, and I’ll never get enough.” He inserted a finger under the edge of the sheet. “I’m greedy.” His finger dipped lower. “I always want more.” His finger tugged at the sheet. “Will you grant your ravenous husband one last peek, my sweet wife?”
She bit her lip adorably and got a saucy glint in her eye before lowering the sheet, giving him a full view of those luscious breasts he so admired.
He had to catch his breath at the sight. Hair spilling over bare shoulders framed the soft flesh smattered with the marks made by his mouth in the night. The dusky centers budded at the tips from his bold gaze.
“Splendor,” he breathed. It was all he could say, really. He didn’t want to talk. He just wanted to look.
Because she was so beautiful and because she was so giving and accepting of him, he couldn’t respond, couldn’t speak words, or be coherent in any meaningful way without embarrassing them both. The best thing he could do for Gina right now was to give her the privacy she had so gracefully requested.
He stood and crossed his palms over his heart, bowed his head, and told her he would meet her in the breakfast room.
As he pondered his good fortune in gaining a wife such as her, Jeremy knew. He knew it with certainty because the feeling of leaving her behind was so acute. He knew it because he wondered how many minutes he’d have to wait before he could be with her again. He knew it because he’d never felt anything even remotely close to this before. He knew what it was. Love. He loved her.
Chapter Twenty
O Love, O fire! Once he drew
With one long kiss my whole soul through
My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew.
—Alfred, Lord Tennyson, “Fatima” (1832)
Georgina watched Jeremy stalk out of the room. His distress at misunderstanding her request was charming. The look on his face! He’d been afraid to confront her after he’d leapt out of bed, the poor man. His response surprised her.
In fact, the whole of their wedding night had been astonishing to her. Her perceptions and then the reality coming together from such opposite extremes and ending in the most wonderful disclosure. Being with him, making love, the closeness, the intimacy, was glorious. And something never to be feared again. Nothing had prepared her for wanting the sex. And she had. Last night she had been wanton in his arms. Another flush overtook her as visions of what they’d done clouded her thoughts.
She was a wife now. She had duties and responsibilities to her husband, the foremost being to give Jeremy the heir he needed. She had been willing to do as such when her agreement to wed him was given, but never in her wildest dreams had she believed she would desire the actions necessary to get her with his child.
She drew her hand over her belly and thought about what was inside her. His seed. A great deal of it she supposed from how wet she felt and the number of times he had shuddered into her.
She remembered how wild and unbound he looked each time he’d done it. How he stared into her and seemed to need the contact of their eyes meeting in that most all-embracing moment. Perhaps they had started a baby already? She hoped so. But regardless, whenever they came, she hoped his resemblance would be born in them. Boy, girl, rascal, or angel, Jeremy’s babies would be beautiful.
A knock at the door interrupted her musings. The small, dark-haired maid, Jane, who’d assisted her last night bobbed into the room. “Good morning, Mrs. Greymont. Mrs. Richards has sent me to attend you. How may I serve you this day, madam?”
Georgina felt the thrill of Jane’s address, first as “
Mrs. Greymont” and then as “madam,” and had to make an effort to keep her composure. It was hard to picture herself as a Mrs. or a madam, but there it was. The monikers were her due now.
“Thank you, Jane. I believe I would like to start with a hot bath,” she said bravely, eyeing the bed for her dressing gown. Where was it? She had used it to cover up when she’d gone to the water closet in the night… Oh, right! She blushed, recalling how Jeremy had delighted in “unwrapping” her, as he put it, when she had returned to the bed. God knows where the garment ended up.
Jane speedily came to her rescue, sweeping the blue silk up from somewhere and holding it open for Georgina while discreetly turning her head.
Bless her, Georgina thought.
“There’s some morning tea for you just through those doors into the adjoining sitting room. The master insisted you get it straight away.” Jane pointed. “If you’d like to go in there and have it now, I’ll just prepare the bath for you.”
Bless him, Georgina thought.
Having arrived into a steaming bath, Georgina washed her body and thought she might need to pinch herself. Two days. Everything had turned in just the past two days. Two days ago she cared little of life, having nothing to live for or look forward to, feeling broken and useless and a burden.
But then Jeremy came for her. He’d changed the whole landscape. He had walked right back into her world and told her that he wanted her and that he wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. He’d taken her out of the hell in which she had been trapped and offered to her a life. A real life. A life she wanted. And something worth fighting for.
Sitting in the warm water, she also realized how much she had changed in those same two days. She had gone from being a frightened little mouse that had to be convinced to accept an honorable man, to a very awakened and aware woman of just how blessed she was in her husband. There was no denying it. She had won a rare prize with Jeremy. And she would hold on to him with everything she had.
* * * *
“Success! I have found the breakfast room. I wasn’t confident I’d make my way here. Thankfully Mrs. Richards happened by and directed me. I hope I haven’t made you wait a very long time.”
Jeremy jumped up and helped to seat her at her place. He leaned in at her neck with his soft lips and nuzzled right below her ear. “I assure you the wait was very worth it. You look superb. That green is excellent on you.”
“Thank you.” She looked him over, appreciating his dark-blue waistcoat over a fine white shirt. He wore his clothes very well. “You look quite well rigged-out yourself.”
“I have been quite productive actually. I wrote a letter to the grandparents and shared the happy news of you.” He smiled and his blue eyes turned smoky. “Can’t wait for the reply I’ll be getting.” He winked at her. “The sun is out. And since the day is dry, I thought we might have a walk after we get you fed. I could show you the grounds, and then we can take to the sea path and bring a blanket for sitting on the sand.”
“Sounds perfect, Jeremy.”
“Now for some food. What’s appealing to you, eggs, bacon, porridge, toast, a bun? Cook is wickedly skilled, and eggs are a particular specialty of hers. You must try some of everything.” He took up her plate to serve her, and in its place he set down a velvet black box.
“What is this?” She picked up the box.
“A gift, for you. Open it.”
She lifted the lid to reveal a pair of pearl drop earrings set with diamonds. “Jeremy, these are outstanding! So lovely and elegant.” She reached out to clasp his hand.
He took her hand to his lips and kissed. “I am pleased you like them. I think they’ll go well with your mother’s pearls, don’t you?”
“I do. They are so beautiful and unique in design. Thank you for such a precious gift. You are spoiling me.” She locked on to his eyes. “I feel as if I’m in a dream and you—all of this—cannot be real, cannot be happening to—”
“It’s real.” He nodded his head and took her chin in his hand. “You are what are beautiful and unique. Last night, with you, was the precious gift, and like those pearls, rare and treasured, but far above all other things.”
They held each other’s eyes for the longest time. When Jeremy finally spoke, the words were important, and precious, and valued above all other words. And what made them even dearer was that they were the same words she needed to say to him.
“Georgina, you hold my whole heart now. You know that, don’t you? You make everything bright and good. I want to experience joy together and learn every secret part of you.” He leaned in to kiss her lips. “My dearest lover—my only lover.”
His declaration thrilled her, but she knew that last part couldn’t be true. Jeremy had been with women before, as sure as the sun rose in the east and set in the west.
“I see your puzzled look, sweetheart. I think you don’t believe me.”
“Well, it’s just that—you must have—there’ve been women you have—” she said haltingly, biting her bottom lip. Thinking of Jeremy with other women was not something she wished to ponder.
“I speak the truth, Georgina. I am many things, and several of my traits are less than desirable. But one thing I am not is a liar. I’ve had women before, yes, but never a lover.”
“No?” she asked, hardly able to contain the joy she felt at knowing her husband might actually have deep feelings for her.
“Not before you, my Gina. Not even close.”
“Oh, Jeremy, you fill my heart until it overflows.” She cupped his cheek.
He spoke solemnly. “I have never known the deepness of emotion you cause in me, and it even frightens me a little, but still, I find I must ask the question.”
“What question?”
“Will you be my lover then?”
She laughed at him before answering. “A little late to ask me, I think, but yes, Jeremy, I am honored to be your lover.” Leaning forward, she kissed his beautiful lips and knew great contentment in having the right to do so.
“Thank Christ!” He breathed out a sigh as if he’d been holding his breath, waiting on her answer. “It’s settled then, sweetheart. We shall be the happiest of lovers together.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Love seeketh not itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care;
But for another gives it ease,
And builds a Heaven in Hell’s despair.
—William Blake, Songs of Experience (1794)
What a difference a week could make in a lonely man’s life. He now had a wife, a lover, companionship, intimacy, hope, comfort…more loving than he’d ever known. A future to look forward to.
The autumn sun warmed the sand and the blanket upon which they reclined. The sound of the swirling surf singing in his ears, Georgina’s fingers trailing through his hair, her lap pillowing his head, Jeremy thought the moment couldn’t be more perfect.
He watched her as she looked out to sea. The elegant cheekbones that swept back to her hairline, the oval face, the rosy lips, the amber eyes, and the glinting hair all captivated him. And she was his to adore and protect.
In the past week, he had taken her around to every part of Hallborough Park and proudly introduced her to the staff and the tenants. He felt ten feet tall every time he announced her as “Mrs. Greymont,” and would bet that everyone who had known him before was no doubt sniggering behind his back at what a sap he was and the fact that he had a ridiculous grin stuck eternally on his face. He did not care. He was a man in love.
Jeremy had a wife. A most splendid wife. A wife who was caring and kind and generous, who welcomed him into her arms at night and into her body. A wife who smiled at him and kissed him and by all accounts appeared to love him back, as remarkable as that seemed. The empty void that had been his heart was filling up.
His grandparents had speedily sent their congratulations, thrilled at his news. They extended an invitation for a visit to their London home and hoped the newlyweds would com
e as soon as they wished for Town.
But he wouldn’t bring her yet. Town would have to wait. Jeremy was not willing to take the risk of Pellton and that monstrosity of a nephew of his crossing paths with Georgina. She seemed at peace with the memories of her assault, but he couldn’t take the chance that a meeting might trigger something. The bordello guard, Luc, had reported to him that Pellton and Strawnly were still in London, so for now he’d keep her safe at Hallborough. And he’d gotten no word from Paulson that Marguerite had called in for her passage to Calais either. Jeremy really hoped she would take him up on his offer. He had many hopes about a lot of things.
Why hadn’t he courted Georgina sooner? Just a few months earlier and he could have prevented—
“Why are you grimacing?”
“What?” He looked up to see her lovely eyes trained on him, her head tilted slightly. His eyes trailed to the scar on her left cheekbone.
“I saw you grimace. You looked so peaceful at first, and then your forehead got all wrinkly and you frowned. Rather dreadful really,” she teased. “Made me take a second glance!”
“It’s nothing.” He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips to kiss.
“Tell me, Jeremy,” she entreated, looking much more serious this time, her jaw clenching a little.
He hated to tell her, but thing was, he didn’t lie. He always told the truth because he abhorred what lies wrought. Lying led to disaster and ruin and betrayal. There was no good in it. And also he knew Georgina wouldn’t let it go. As much as he adored her, there was a stubbornness in his wife that commanded respect.
He worded his response carefully. “I was wishing I had gone to court you sooner—about six months sooner. If I had done so, you never would have been…hurt. Would that I might have kept you from such a thing.”