Lord Greywell's Dilemma (28 page)

For it was indeed one of the loveliest spots in the area, even in daylight. Willows drooped their feathery branches down toward a stream where water babbled gently over moss-covered rocks. From the bank one had a view down over most of Ashfield, and it was a beautiful sight. Greywell tied the reins to a tree and led her to where they could seat themselves comfortably on the rug he brought from the curricle. Lights twinkled in several windows of the house and stars shone above, but mostly the night felt velvety black, silent, luxuriously warm.

Greywell seated himself beside her and put his arm about her waist, but he made no attempt to say anything. They sat in silence observing the scene before them, taking in its beauty. But Elspeth could not for long concentrate on the view; she was too aware of the warmth of his hand at her side, the length of his body along hers. She turned her head to look up at him, a shy smile curving her lips. “It’s beautiful,” she said.

Her lips were slightly parted, her eyes darkly glowing. Greywell tilted her chin up with one finger. “So are you,” he murmured, gently pressing a kiss on her waiting mouth. Then he drew back to regard her tenderly. There had been no time for her to respond; he hadn’t expected her to. She blinked rapidly under his keen observation, her long lashes brushing her creamy cheeks.

“I want you to know, Elspeth, that I’m very glad you agreed to marry me. You’ve given me more than I can hope to repay: Andrew’s health and happiness, the efficient running of Ashfield, a calm and capable woman for my wife. I never thought to be so fortunate.”

“It is I who am fortunate,” she whispered. She lifted a hand tentatively to touch his face, to trace the firm line of his jaw, to lay a finger against his lips. When he kissed her finger and grasped her hand in his, she turned more toward him, pressing forward a little so her breasts almost touched the front of his coat. Both of his arms went around her to draw her against his chest, where he tucked her head under his chin and hugged her. It was less than she had hoped for.

“We’ll do very well together,” he said, his voice slightly constrained. “At least, I think so. You won’t mind growing old with me?”

“No, there’s no one I’d rather be with,” she confessed, feeling a little forward, but not caring. She put her hands around his waist, letting her fingers play along his back as his were on hers. Still he made no move to kiss her again. She was very conscious of her breasts pressed against his chest. His fingers came up to stroke the back of her neck.

“I want you to be happy, my dear,” he said. “I want you to feel as comfortable at Ashfield as you ever did at Lyndhurst or more so. This is your home now. If there are things you want to do in the community that you haven’t because you thought I’d disapprove, please don’t hesitate to act on your conscience. I wouldn’t feel right restraining you from doing what you thought best. You have a free reign, Elspeth.”

“I don’t deserve one,” she said, with a muffled sob, burying her head more deeply against his shoulder. “I was always so
sure
I knew what was right for everyone, and I couldn’t even exert a proper control over myself.”

“That’s in the past. It wasn’t a bad lesson to learn, that we’re all fallible.” He held her slightly away from him, to see if she was actually crying. But her eyes, though brilliant with moisture, had not overflowed, and he smiled down at her, stroking the hair from her face. “You’re a remarkable woman, so strong and yet vulnerable. That’s the kind of woman I’d most like to depend on, Elspeth. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” And he bent to kiss her.

This time she responded immediately, so he didn’t have an opportunity to draw away without recognizing her willingness to accept his caress. The pressure of his lips increased tentatively. Elspeth welcomed it eagerly, bold now, herself, in plying him with kisses, quick, excited little assurances of her affection. And then her mouth was slightly open and she felt his tongue explore the moist, warm recesses. They had edged themselves down until they were lying on the carriage rug, their bodies touching at almost every point.

His thumbs rubbed softly under her earlobes, his mouth still joined with hers. For what seemed an eternity, or only the length of time a lightning bolt took to flash, they lay that way, their kisses savored with a sort of timeless wonder. Then Greywell drew back, smiling apologetically. “You’re going to catch a chill.”

“Oh, no,” she assured him. “I’m perfectly warm.”

But he only shook his head and sat up, carefully studying her in the ghostly moonlight. She continued to lie on the rug, consternation plain on her face. “I didn’t mean to alarm you,” he said.

“You didn’t alarm me! Really!”

Though he nodded, he made no move toward her, but wrapped his hands around his bent knees and gazed off toward the distant lights at Ashfield. Elspeth hadn’t the first idea what he was thinking. He seemed to be frowning, but from her vantage point she couldn’t quite tell. Hesitantly she said, “I wouldn’t mind if you kissed me again.”

Greywell turned to smile down at her. “Then I will, but it’s getting cooler, Elspeth. That shawl doesn’t provide you much protection.”

“When you were lying beside me, I couldn’t even feel the breeze.”

Gallantly he lowered himself to afford her a shield from the evening cool. His arms enveloped her, hugging her to him, and his lips once again met hers. Elspeth resisted the need to shudder under his touch; he would only think she was cold, when she was actually becoming increasingly warm. Or he would think she disliked the way his hands stroked her sides, getting caught in the gauzy overdress. As his kiss deepened again, she longed for him to touch her aching breasts, but he steadfastly kept his hands some distance from them.

Desperate for more contact, she whispered, “I wouldn’t mind if you warmed my bosom with your hands. It’s a little exposed.”

Actually, it was as exposed as she could make it by surreptitiously tugging down the bodice with one hand. There was a great expanse of white now visible, and he covered it with his warm fingers, his mouth still on hers. For a moment his hands remained unmoving, but there was something too tempting about the soft mounds for him to resist their attractions. Slowly he began to move his fingers, first over only those parts of the breasts which were uncovered, but when he encountered no resistance, he slid his fingers under the material. Elspeth sighed.

His fingers stilled, but when she continued to run her tongue along his lips, he resumed his exploration. The touch on her sensitive nipples was almost electric, sending bolts of delicious sensations through her body. Impatient with the constriction of her gown, she pushed the material down over her breasts and watched, with some trepidation, his reaction. “I’m not so large as those women on the snuffboxes,” she confessed.

“No,” he agreed, his gray eyes appearing almost black in the darkness. “That doesn’t matter, you know. You’re lovely. Do you mind my touching you?”

“It feels wonderful.”

“Would you like me to kiss your breasts?”

Her eyes were wide and unblinking. “Yes, please.”

Elspeth wasn’t sure she could stand the ecstasy his mouth produced. Every nerve in her body seemed to come alive. She found her fingers woven in his dark hair, holding on as though she might be swept away. The moisture from his tongue, the suction from his lips, connected with that part deep within her that craved satisfaction. “Oh, David, I can’t bear it,” she whispered.

Confused as to her meaning, he lifted his head to look into her eyes. They were sultry with desire, shining in the moonlight like two new stars. He touched her quivering lips with a gentle finger. “Do you want me to stop now?”

“No. Yes. Could we go home and . . .”

Without another word he slipped the gown back over her breasts and rose to help her to her feet. Elspeth’s knees felt slightly weak, and she clung to him for a moment before she was able to walk to the curricle. To her surprise, she found she was very nervous now. The tension in her body refused to abate, and she wasn’t sure, from his silence, that he had understood what she meant. He was as gentle, as solicitous, as he ever was with her, driving now with a necessary concentration on the dark road.

“David?”

“Yes, my dear?”

“I meant, when we get back, that, if you wanted to, you could come to my room.”

“Yes, I thought that was what you meant.”

“Would you want to do that?”

He turned to smile at her. “Very much. But perhaps this is as good a time as any to mention our original agreement. I will abide by it if you prefer that, Elspeth. If there is any reason, other than your own desire to consummate our marriage, that’s leading you to this step, I don’t think you should take it.”

“What kind of reason?”

“I don’t know. Guilt. Sympathy. Duty. Any number of things might be influencing you. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”

“I won’t regret it,” she said firmly, clutching her hands together in her lap. “It’s what I want.”

He shifted the reins to one hand and reached over to touch her cheek. “I’m glad.”

As he swept the curricle down the carriage drive she noticed the lamp was still burning on the second floor in the nursery. And when he handed her down at the front door, Bates came scurrying out to inform her that Andrew wasn’t feeling well and had been crying for her. Forgetting everything else, Elspeth hurried into the house and up to the child.

Chapter Fourteen

The child had a fever and was fretful, but his condition didn’t seem to warrant sending for Dr. Wellow. Elspeth sat with him, putting cold, wet cloths on his forehead to make him more comfortable. When Greywell came in, she looked up at him and said, “He’ll be fine, but he doesn’t want me to leave. I’ll just stay here with him, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind. Shall I stay, too?”

Elspeth didn’t know how to respond to the question in his eyes. If they stayed together until the child fell asleep, they could go down together to one of their rooms. But Elspeth had already decided she would spend the night in Andrew’s room, sleeping in the chair in case he should need her during the night. “No,” she said finally. “One of us should get a good night’s rest.”

He nodded and went over to lay a hand softly on his son’s head. Then he bent and gently kissed Elspeth goodnight before walking quickly from the room. Elspeth watched him go with a certain misgiving. Would he resent her defection? She couldn’t imagine he’d mind her sitting up with his sick child, but perhaps he would think it unnecessary and would assume she had actually changed her mind. Well, she could straighten him out on that. But with her father coming . . . Elspeth sighed and leaned her head back against the chair.

When she woke it was morning. A weak gray light was filtering through the space between the draperies, and Elspeth could hear soft movements in Bates’ room. Andrew was sleeping peacefully; when Elspeth reached over to touch his forehead it was cool again. She stretched her aching shoulders and rose from the chair. There was no reason to stay longer. When Andrew woke, which would probably not be for another hour, he wouldn’t likely even remember he’d been ill the previous evening. Childhood ailments often came and went quickly.

Elspeth still wore the lovely dress from the night before, and as she drew the fragile shawl about her shoulders a daring possibility occurred to her. She could go to Greywell’s room—now. He would be asleep, of course, but he wouldn’t mind being awakened, would he?
She had never seen him asleep, didn’t know if he lay sprawled across the bed or curled in one small space. She suddenly had an urgent need to find out.

It was too early for him to be awake, not yet seven, she supposed. Some of the servants were already up and about, no doubt. Would Clemson be? Elspeth didn’t wish to run into the valet as she made her way to Greywell’s room, so she proceeded cautiously, peering around corners as though she didn’t belong in the house at all. At his door she hesitated, having second thoughts, and feeling tremendously nervous. Just because she wanted to be there didn’t mean he would want her to come. What if he was inordinately grouchy in the morning? She’d never noticed such a thing, but it was always possible.

The door was unlocked, as she had assumed it would be. It was also well oiled, and made no sound as she cautiously pushed it open. Heavy draperies obscured any light that was gracing the early morning outside. In the gloom she could barely make out the bed at first. There was a monstrous concoction of valances and hangings on it, so that he was completely shut off from the rest of the room. Elspeth wondered that he didn’t suffocate in there.

She felt a little foolish sneaking over to his bed on tiptoe and nervously pushing back the heavy maroon velvet hangings. Her eyes had accustomed to the gloom and she could see him lying there, one hand flung out over the sheet. His face was partially hidden in the fluffy pillow, and his hair adorably disarranged, standing up in a cowlick at the back. There were no blankets covering him, and the sheet came only to his waist. From what she could see, it seemed likely he was wearing nothing at all, which was not surprising in the stuffy enclosure. Tendrils of hair clung moistly to his forehead.

“David?” she said softly.

His eyes opened instantly, full of alarm. “Is Andrew worse?”

“No, no! He’s quite well this morning. At least, he isn’t awake yet, but his forehead felt perfectly cool. Bates was already up; I could hear her. So I thought there was no need for me to stay longer.”

He reached for her hand, and his face relaxed into a smile.

“Did you sleep in the chair all night, my dear? How very uncomfortable.”

 “No more uncomfortable than your sleeping in this airless closet,” she said dryly. “How can you bear it?”

“I did it for you,” he said, taking hold of the other hand and pulling her down to sit on the bed. “I thought to myself, ‘If Elspeth should come to me I will want to have the hangings closed, in case Clemson should wander in in the morning without knocking.’ He does sometimes, you know, since I’m here by myself.”