Candice Hern (19 page)

He was not, though, looking forward to seeing her face the morning after she'd discovered precisely what it was she'd missed in her marriage.

If Clarissa's parents were not to be there, Adam might have been tempted to slake all that repressed desire by taking her to bed — pouncing, as Rochdale had suggested. Instead, he would be stuck in his own bedroom all alone. Alone and brooding over what might have been.

He checked the portmanteaus and saw that all was in order. He was anything but ready, however. Adam had never dreaded anything so much in his life.

"What a lovely bridge." Marianne strolled on the arm of Julian through the extensive gardens at Ossing Park. The grounds were beautiful, and he was eager to point out every feature and provide its history: the Italian garden, the rose garden, the cascade, the obelisk, the orangery, the deer houses, the conservatory.

They had been walking for hours and Marianne's feet were growing sore, but he was so charmingly proud of it all that she did not mind so very much. He had never looked more handsome and she was enjoying her time with him.

"Is this the bridge you were telling me about?" she asked. "The one you had reconstructed?"

"Yes, it is." His blue eyes were lit with an enthusiastic fire, and had been throughout their walk. She had never seen him so full of life. In town, he wore the same air of fashionable ennui, of superciliousness, that most men of the
ton
seemed obliged to affect. But he was in his element here at Ossing. Clearly he loved the place.

"The old bridge had become too unsafe to use," he said, "and had to be torn down. And though my architects tried to insist on a modern, more sleek design for the new bridge, I wanted to retain the Palladian style of the old one. Anything else just seemed wrong to my eye."

"I am sure you were right. It looks quite perfect to me. In fact, everything here is absolutely beautiful."

He gave her an intense look that sent a tiny shiver across her shoulders. "Yes, everything here
is
beautiful. Come."

He took her by the hand and pulled her into a nearby grove of trees. Thinking there was a folly or statue or some other feature in the grove that he meant to show her, she was surprised when he stopped, leaned up against a large tree trunk, and tugged her into his arms.

"I am so glad to see you here," he said, pitching his voice low and seductive. "You are as beautiful as anything here at Ossing. No, you are more beautiful."

He pulled her tighter against him, and kissed her.

It was more than a kiss. It was a ravishment. With no attempt at gentle persuasion, he forced her mouth open and plunged his tongue inside. Marianne was a bit startled by the violence of his passion, but a little excited, too. This was rougher than Adam's kiss. More purely carnal. This must be how mature lovers behaved. Nothing coy or subtle. Only raw, unbridled passion.

His tongue fenced with hers and she tried to respond as he would expect her to. But there was an odd sensation of being somehow disconnected from her body, and viewing the kiss as a dispassionate observer. She was very much aware of every move he made — of every stroke of his tongue, of his lips and teeth, of his arm around her neck and the other pressing against the small of her back, of his hips grinding suggestively against hers — and yet she did not feel involved. She felt ... nothing.

It did not make sense. When Adam had kissed her — and it was not nearly as prolonged an embrace as this one — she had felt a certain heat, a spark of something, a fluttering low in her insides. And here was Julian doing much more intimate things, and she experienced not the tiniest flutter.

What was wrong with her?

"I think the temple is in that direction."

"No, I'm sure it is this way."

The sound of approaching voices put an end to the kiss. Julian gave a little groan and pulled away. "Damn." He smiled as he straightened his neckcloth. "Almost caught in the act. We shall have to resume this delightful activity later. I am sorry about tonight, however. But tomorrow ..."

His gaze held hers for a long moment, then flickered down to her mouth, and back again. Her body reacted more strongly to that look in his eye than it had to his mouth and his tongue. Perhaps she had simply been too nervous to enjoy the kiss, wound up too tight from the expectation of it to unbend and enjoy it.

"Tomorrow, Marianne?"

God, he was so handsome. And his gaze was a naked caress. How could she resist? "Tomorrow," she answered.

He flashed a brilliant smile, then took her arm to lead her toward the path where voices could be heard.

And so it was done. With one word she had just invited this young man to share her bed. Tomorrow.

Dear God, what had she done?

There was rather a large group assembled on the path, several talking at once and pointing in different directions. Adam was among them, standing silently while his fiancée spoke to Sir George Lowestoft with uncharacteristic animation. Several other young men were gathered around her, vying for her attention, and she positively beamed with pleasure.

Marianne could not help but wonder if her attempt to throw temptation in the girl's path was working. She certainly appeared to be enjoying the company of the younger men, while ignoring her betrothed.

Clarissa turned as they approached.

"There you are!" she said. "You must show us the temple, Julian. I am dying to see it. I thought it was this way, but Sir Neville believes it is through that avenue of trees."

Julian released Marianne's arm and walked toward the group. "You are both wrong," he said with a smile. "It is on the other side of the bridge. Follow me." He held out his arm to Clarissa, and the two of them led the way.

Adam caught Marianne's eye and waited for her to join him. "I have been deserted, as you see, so you must take my arm, my dear."

She did and they followed the others, but Adam kept a slow pace so that they were soon lagging far behind.

"You look delightfully flushed," he said. "Almost as though you had just been kissed."

"I have been."

"Ah. Then our host is losing no time." He said nothing for a moment, and then, "Tonight, I daresay, you will finally achieve your goal."

"No, not tonight. There are guests due to arrive quite late and he must be available to welcome them."

"Is that why you look so glum? You are disappointed that you will not have a lover in your bed tonight?"

"No, that is not it."

"Then what? Something is troubling you. I know that look well. What is it, Marianne?"

She gazed up at him and felt her face about to crumble and the mortifying sting of tears behind her eyes. "Oh, Adam, I fear I have made a terrible mistake."

His eyebrows rose in surprise. "Sherwood is the wrong man?"

"No, I am the wrong woman."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Adam, what if the lack of passion in my marriage had nothing to do with David? What if it was all my fault?"

"What the devil are you talking about?"

"I ... I felt almost nothing when Julian kissed me."

Adam's eyes, clear and steady, remained fixed on hers, and she knew they were both thinking the same thing. She
had
felt something when Adam kissed her.

"He was extremely ... passionate," she said, "and yet I felt nothing. My mind was aware of every single thing he was doing, but my body couldn't
feel
what he was doing. I felt strangely detached from the whole experience."

Adam smiled. "You think too much. A passionate kiss is not a moment for rational thought." He did not need to say that there had been nothing rational about the kiss they'd shared. "You worked yourself up into a state of such anxiety that you could not enjoy it. Relax! Loosen up. Open yourself to every sensation, and let them wash over you. Lord, I cannot believe I am telling you this." He gave a wry smile, full of self-mockery. "Don’t think about it. Just
feel
it."

"But what if I can never feel anything more than I experienced with David?" The words spilled out in an anguished rush. "What if I am one of those women who simply do not respond to physical intimacy? What if it is simply not in my nature to enjoy it? What if I am a disappointment to Lord Julian?"

"My dear girl." He stopped on Julian's beautiful new bridge and turned her to face him. "You will not disappoint him. You are not one of those women. I have felt your body respond, Marianne. Surely you haven't forgotten that. I have not."

No, she had not forgotten it. At the time, the kiss seemed to have meant nothing to him. But perhaps she had been wrong about that. He took her hand, gently pulled back the kid leather glove, and kissed the underside of her wrist. When he flicked his tongue up to the palm of her hand, she gave an involuntary shiver.

"You see," he said. "That little tremor tells me you are not cold and unresponsive."

He lifted her chin with a crooked finger, then traced that finger along the line of her jaw and very slowly down her neck. She uttered a little sigh and trembled again.

"And there it is again," he said, "your body responding even to so simple a touch. Have no fear that you will not please him, my dear. You are a warm, sensuous woman with a great deal to give. All you need to do is relax and let the physical sensations overwhelm you. Put your mind to rest and let your body take over. There is not a man alive who would not be thrilled to share such a moment with you."

Including himself? Would Adam be thrilled to share her bed? Considering her reaction to his simplest touch, she was quite certain
she
would be thrilled.

She hoped he was right. If his touch could make her tremble with desire, then surely Julian's touch would be able to do the same. If only she could stop worrying about it.

Why, oh, why could it not be Adam instead of Julian, or anyone else? She would have no trouble relaxing into Adam's arms. No trouble at all.

* * *

"Hold the bow steady. Now, pull back slowly. That's it. Keep your draw hand against your jaw and let the bowstring touch your chin."

Adam's arms enveloped Clarissa as he guided her in the use of a bow and arrow. It had been Sherwood's suggestion that the men engage in a competition, but the ladies objected and claimed they must have their turns as well. The gentlemen were happy to oblige, for most of the ladies had never before held a longbow. The only proper way to teach them, of course, was to stand very, very close.

It was as near to a full embrace as Adam had yet achieved with Clarissa, and he took advantage, using the opportunity to work off some of the tension that had kept his body as taut as a bowstring for the last two days. His chest pressed against her slim back, his left arm encircled her bow arm, and his right arm was cushioned beneath her draw arm to guide it to the proper elevation. His chin rested against her temple. Soft blond curls tickled his jaw and fluttered against his breath when he spoke.

"Push outward on the bow as you pull back on the bowstring." He rested his fingers over her draw hand. "Make sure all three fingers are pulling equally, and do not touch the nock. Leave a bit of space between this finger and this one."

She made tiny adjustments to her stance as he talked, but she seemed much too tense to make a good shot. No doubt his proximity disconcerted her, and having an audience did not help. He stepped back slowly, reluctant to abandon her soft body. "That's perfect, Clarissa. Now, keep your right elbow up. That's it. And relax your shoulders." He placed a hand on each shoulder and said, "Keep them down. Don't let this one creep up to your ear. Just relax." He kept his hands on her shoulders for a moment, caressing her gently in hopes of easing some of her tension. Then he stepped away.

"All right, Clarissa. Get ready to release. You must let go with all three fingers at the same time. Don't be startled if the bowstring hits your arm. That's why you're wearing the guard. And try not to move. Keep your draw arm up and in position until the arrow is in the air. Ready?"

"I think so."

"All right, then. Release."

She did, and the bowstring snapped sharply against her leather arm guard as the arrow took flight with a whoosh. She gave a little yelp of surprise, but to her credit, she kept her stance, as he'd instructed. The arrow fell several yards wide of the target.

"Oh, my," she said. "That wasn't very good, was it?" And she burst into giggles.

"Here, let me show you." Lord Havering, one of several irritating young pups among the party guests, stepped forward to take Adam's place, all but pushing him aside.

Adam glared at the fellow's presumption, but his lordship had the arrogance of youth on his side and was unmoved. Adam gave a little snort and moved back into the line of spectators.

He was then forced to watch the insolent puppy wrap his arms around Clarissa to help her find her stance. He was several inches shorter than Adam, so that his chin was at the level of her ear. She giggled as he adjusted her elbows and shoulders, and Adam would swear he had whispered something in that ear.

"You're gripping the bow too tightly," Havering told her. "Let it rest comfortably in the hand." He placed his fingers over hers on the bow and spent longer than Adam thought necessary in adjusting her grip. "And you must rotate the elbow of your bow arm so that it is not pointing downward. Like this. And your other elbow must be held high. Higher. That's right."

Finally, he seemed satisfied enough to move himself away from Clarissa. Which was a good thing. If he had lingered a moment longer, Adam would have been tempted to pick him up by the collar and toss him aside.

Clarissa released her arrow, and again it went wide of the target. "Oh, piffle," she said, and stamped her dainty foot, then giggled again.

"You placed her draw arm too high," Sherwood said, and stepped forward to replace the puppy. "I will show her how it is done. Come, Clarrie, let's try once more."

Clarrie?

And Adam was obliged to watch yet another young man wrap his arms around his betrothed. At least he did not have to worry about Sherwood, who had another female on his mind this week. He did not drape himself all over Clarissa for long, unnecessary moments, as Havering had done, or even press close against her as Adam had done. He simply touched an elbow, a shoulder, adjusted her fingers, and talked her through it.