After The Storm (14 page)

His lordship eyed her for a long moment before
declaring that they needed to get back on the road.

* * *

The earl was quiet during the next two hours, and
Jenny, also lost to her thoughts, did not have much to say.

The day grew dark, and it was nearly seven when they
reached the bridge over the River Stour, past farm meadows rich
with their early seedlings. Suddenly Jenny said with a giggle as
she pointed, “Look at that lamb …”

They watched the lamb jump and play with its
imaginary friend, and she sighed as she sat back once it was out of
sight. She was getting under his skin in a way that held him
completely captivated. Her giggle, her voice, her love of
life—everything about her yanked out his heart and pumped it up and
then put it back beating twice as hard as before.

The Inn of Shaftesbury was at the edge of town, and
it was nearly eight when they pulled into its elegant
courtyard.

Jenny was led to her room and happily was able to
freshen up before she made her way back downstairs.

She knew a sense of trust when she thought of the
earl. She knew he would be there to greet her and look after her
needs, and it was comforting in this new beginning.

He led her into the dining parlor, making some small
jest, which she knew he did to set her at ease, and she found she
liked him for it more than she had thought possible. Still, even
though dinner was passed pleasantly, she could not stifle the yawn
that made her stretch out her arms. She smiled apologetically.

“My poor girl, this has been a long day for you.
Allow me to escort you to your room.”

“You don’t mind?” she asked shyly.

“Mind? Of course not. We have another long trip
tomorrow, and you should get your rest, for we will start very
early.”

* * *

He strolled with her down the corridor and up the
stairs to her door. He had done everything in his power to set her
at ease this day. He wanted her comfortable. With all his heart, he
wanted her happy, and thus, he kept himself in check.

The male in him had wanted more than once to bend and
drop a kiss on those luscious lips of hers, but he had not allowed
himself to do it. The male in him, in fact was damned
uncomfortable.

This was his wedding night, he thought dolefully, and
he wasn’t likely to receive even a kiss.

In this belief, he discovered, he was incorrect, for
Jenny lifted herself to her toes, planted an amicable kiss upon his
cheek, and said, “Thank you, my lord—I mean, Jason—thank you for
your kindness and consideration. Good night.”

Then she was gone, and a dark oak door stood between
them. However, that kiss, her kiss, delivered with sweet sincerity
on his cheek, had lifted him higher than anything he could
remember. He felt like a schoolboy as he touched the spot on his
cheek where her lips had been.

Absurdly, he felt like kicking his heels as he made
his way to his own room.

~
Nine ~

The wanderer would not heed me;

Its Kiss grew warmer still;

Oh come—it sighed so sweetly;

I’ll win thee ‘gainst thy will!

—Emily Bronte

IN SPITE OF the wine at dinner and the need to sleep,
try as she would, Jenny was unable to do so. She tossed, she
turned, and she finally dozed off in the wee hours, only to wake
from a knock at her door.

“Sorry, Jenny, but I am afraid we need to get on the
road soon,” said the earl.

“Yes, yes, of course,” she called to the man on the
other side of the door. He was her husband.
Her
husband. It
didn’t make sense, but there it was, and what made less sense was
the fact that she felt totally content about it.

Hurriedly she washed and, with the help of the
chambermaid the earl had sent up to her, shrugged into a new
traveling ensemble of chocolate velvet, with a cream-colored lacey
blouse underneath. She situated a matching bonnet of velvet on her
head and adjusted it at an angle over her long, wavy chestnut
hair.

Taking up the matching knit shawl and folding it over
her arm, she made her way below and found the earl in the dining
parlor with eggs, bacon, and toast on a plate before him.

He stood and displayed some surprise. “’
Pon
my
soul, Jenny, had I realized you would dress so quickly, I would
have waited for you.”

She laughed. “Nonsense—all I want is coffee …”
She reached for one of his slices of toast and twinkled at him.
“And this.”

He laughed and waited for her to sit before he
signaled for another cup of coffee and slid his to her.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked idly as he recalled
his own restless sleep.

“No. I don’t know what was wrong with me. I usually
sleep like a baby, but I suppose, being in a strange place …”
She allowed the words to trail off.

It wasn’t long before they were on the road and
playing at a few games of piquet. A quick stop for lunch, and they
were back on the road again.

Jenny couldn’t stifle the yawn, and in fact it was
the last thing she remembered as she put her head back and drifted
off.

The earl watched her and thought she looked angelic
in her sleep. He couldn’t say that at other times, for those green
eyes of hers were forever betraying the naughty girl that lurked
inside of her. He longed to find the door and let that naughty girl
out. How they would suit one another.

When the rough road caused her to bump and roll, he
shook his head. He eased her head onto his lap, reached across to
the seat facing them, and pulled the rug over her. He placed his
hand lightly on her shoulder to keep her steady and then forced
himself to look away from her.

The problem was she was driving him wild, and he
didn’t seem to have control over the hard throbbing of his manhood
inside his breeches. He wanted her, and his libido was doing its
work as she lay there, so close to his hard-on he imagined he could
feel her breath through the cloth that separated them.

He tried staring at the passing scenery, but all he
could see was her, standing in a field of clover, ready to be
undressed, ready for his lips.

Damn! Bloody hell! He had to get control over
himself.

He knew he was winning her over with friendship, but
would that be enough to make her his own? And once his own, what
then? Would he be faithful? Could he be faithful? He didn’t want to
be his father; the thought of being unfaithful to Jenny actually
made him frown.

Yet—
was this not a marriage of convenience?
Did they both not understand the rules? Yes, but? Yes, but
what?

His fist went to his mouth, and he struggled with
this before finally setting it aside. He couldn’t foretell the
future. He would just have to wait and see.

But he knew one thing, and that one thing was that
Jenny was going to be his wife in every sense of the word, and he
meant to respect her and keep her safe for as long as he had
breath.

Where had that come from?

From the innocent kiss she placed on my
cheek—that’s where
, he answered himself.

She stirred and came so damn close to his throbbing
hardness that he thought he was going to have to reach down and
adjust himself somehow. However, she brought her head up and looked
at him with sudden dawning and said, “Oh, my lord, oh Jason,
forgive me—have I made you stiff?”

Mirth rolled off him as she opened her eyes wider,
and he said in a low, husky tone, “Quite forgivable.”

“Oh, it must have been uncomfortable for you. I am so
sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be, my Lady Danfield. You were precisely where
I wanted you to be,” he said on a tease and watched the color in
her cheeks deepen.

She sat up straight, and he felt her eyes on him as
he stretched and turned back to her to say, “I think I’ll ride on
ahead and have the inn prepare us some tea, what say you?”

“Tea would be lovely. Shall I ride with you?”

“No, my love, just relax, for the inn is no more than
ten minutes ahead. No sense saddling up Whisper for such a short
ride.” Without realizing what he was doing, he dropped a kiss on
her nose and called his driver to a halt.

* * *

A few moments went by as she watched him mount his
big gelding and ride off. The thought occurred to her that he was
the most unique gentleman she had even known, quite in addition to
being the handsomest.
That is it,
Jen
, a voice said
to her
, that is the key—he is a man. You were a girl, Johnny was
a boy, but you will be a woman and you will need a man.

This realization was almost too much to consider, and
she set it aside.

Their little break was over too soon, and once again
they were in the coach. Jenny was now feeling restless, but the
earl gave every indication of putting his head back against the
leather squabs and going to sleep.

Doubtfully, she asked, “Are you going to sleep?” Her
tone she hoped would indicate that she wished he would not.

“It appears that way,” answered the earl, not opening
his eyes.

“Oh, but I did so want to talk with you,” she said
wistfully and waited.

The earl did not respond to this and had the
appearance of already having fallen asleep.

Jenny got closer to him and said, “Well, of course if
you would rather sleep, I suppose, you must.”

A few minutes passed, and she regarded him closely to
whisper, “Are you asleep, my lord?”

“Yes,” came his lordship’s response.

A gurgle of laughter escaped her lips, and she said,
“My lord, my lord … do talk to me. It has been such a long
journey, and I should so like to speak to you.”

The earl did not respond to this.

“I can see that you are going to be most
disagreeable, and so I will not speak to you any longer,” Jenny
threatened.

His lordship did not stir, but Jenny did not believe
he was sleeping. She said, “I can of course, chatter to you. No
need for you to respond unless you feel you must.” She paused and
said, “Where shall I start? Ah, I’ve got it. We will start with my
infancy, for it occurs to me that I should tell you something about
myself. Indeed, you will never credit it, but when I was an infant
I had the lamentable habit of drooling upon anyone kind enough to
pick me up.”

“Detestable brat.” His lordship grinned, opening one
eye to find her casting him a saucy smile.

“Yes, I think so, but I am told that all infants
drool. No matter, when that ended, I had the odious habit of
kicking my feet whenever anyone said ‘no’ to me.”

“Reprehensible, indeed,” pronounced his lordship now
looking away from her and closing his eyes again.

“You odious man, at least look at me when you insult
me,” she said with a laugh.

“Knattsch as well,” countered the earl, grinning
broadly as he did sit up and look right at her.

“Trouble, am I?” She laughed, took hold of the lapels
of his elegant buckskin riding jacket, and gave him a playful
shake.

At that, and in one easy movement, he grasped her
small white hands, disengaged them from his jacket, and kissed her
fingers. His smile was in his eyes as well as on his lips, and she
felt an intake of breath as he spoke low and softly. “Now
that
, my lady, I shall not allow. For wrinkling my coat you
shall have to pay a forfeit.”

A tremor went through her. He was going to kiss her.
She knew it, felt it coming, and suddenly realized she was
willing—not willing, but
wanting
him to kiss her.

He did in fact bend, and he did in fact kiss her, but
only lightly on her cheek, much as she had done the night
before.

A blinding ray took over her vision. A burning heat
swept through her body. A light and airy feeling of floating in
contrast to all this took hold. What was happening to her? But
above all those sensations bombarding her, she was thoroughly
honest with herself and admitted a disappointment that he had not
kissed her lips!

With that he said, “Jenny, Jenny.” And then not
another word as he folded his arms across his chest, leaned back
his head, and closed his eyes.

She sat back as well, and because she couldn’t
breathe, she opened her window a crack. A whiff of the salt air
wafted through, and she sucked it in with relish. What was wrong
with her? She was so very conflicted, and she fell into a
thoughtful silence.

* * *

The earl did in fact doze, and when he awoke it was
to an overcast black sky. It had been a gray afternoon that had
given over to another light rain, and although it was no later than
five, the interior of the coach was encased in darkness.

He sat up sharply. Seeing Jenny huddled in a corner
of the carriage, he felt a wave of guilt. How could he have slept
so long? “Jenny, are you tired, love?”

Jenny sat up straight with obvious relief that he was
once again awake and said, “Oh, have you had a good rest?”

He lit the glass-covered lanterns that were affixed
to the walls of the coach and cursed himself inwardly for leaving
her to the dark and the cold for so long.

“Ah,” he said lightly, “that is better. I am so
sorry, Jenny, that I slept and left you to sit here in the
dark.”

“Understandable,” she said shyly. “Will it be much
longer?”

The earl looked out the window but could not detect
anything recognizable. He shook his head. “I don’t think we have
far to go,” he said to relieve her, for he could see she was
heartily sick of being cooped up in the carriage.

Within five minutes, the coach (at his direction)
stopped at an extremely small inn. The earl jumped to his feet and
scanned the place, which was not lit very well. He turned to Jenny
with a frown, for although the rain had given over to a light
drizzle, he wasn’t sure she should alight and risk the
dampness.