Tempting the Marquess (23 page)

Jason had no clue what to make of her statement. “Er, yes, that is your hand.”

“Well, don’t you need it?”

“Need it?” he echoed.

She looked at him as if he were a simpleton, which was ironic as she was the one who had clearly lost her wits.

“Yes.” She gave an exasperated sigh. “You said women could ease themselves with their hands. If I knew how to do this, I would hardly have waited for your assistance. Therefore I am giving you my hand so that you can instruct me.”

She said this with such a combination of earnestness and annoyance that Jason could not contain his mirth.

“No, sweet, I’m not laughing at you. Well, I am, but only because your innocence is so charming. All you need to do is touch yourself and learn what you like, but I think in the interest of time, I’ll help you feel better in a different way.”

“How?” she asked suspiciously.

Jason grinned. “I think it’s time I become better acquainted with your female part.”

Livvy clapped her hands over her breasts.

Jason shook his head. “Your other female part.”

Her heart started pounding. She felt the throbbing beat echoing through her body start to settle at the juncture of her thighs.

“I th-thought you got acquainted with that p-part last night,” she stammered nervously.

He leaned closer. “Not,” he whispered, “with my mouth.”

She was going to faint. He wanted to kiss her
there
? And did that mean she could kiss his man part?

He mistook her silence as hesitation.

“I thought you wanted to be wicked with me.”

No man should be allowed to have a voice that seductive. He was like a masculine version of a siren. She was powerless to resist the lure of that low, husky tone.

“All right, but you’ll stop if I say I don’t like it?”

His smile was unabashedly smug.

“Of course, but I don’t foresee that happening.”

Livvy didn’t either, but what he was suggesting was so scandalous she felt she ought to put up at least a token resistance. She owed it to all her mother’s years of trying to instill a sense of propriety in her children. So far she had been spectacularly unsuccessful.

The rules of propriety didn’t seem to apply to boys in quite the same way as they did to girls, but even so, Henry was, well,
Henry
.

Isabella had always been a bit wild, but the events leading up to her marriage had been outrageous even for her.

And now
she
, the hitherto good child (or at least the not-quite-as-bad child), was acting like some shameless hussy and loving every sinful second of it.

She reached for Jason, pulling him on top of her. She loved the weight of him pressing her into the bed. She began to notice other little pleasures she had missed the night before, like the way the dark hairs on his chest tickled and teased her breasts.

He took her mouth in a slow, lingering kiss. Her blood had been simmering, but now it began to boil.

“Jason,” she pleaded, digging her fingers into his shoulders, trying to convey her urgency. She felt wretchedly full, yet somehow empty. The tension between her legs went from uncomfortable to unbearable.

She arched her hips up against him, trying to relieve the ache. Her frustration mounted. He had been all but rushing before, so why this slow torture?

He must have sensed she had reached her limit, since he began sliding down her body, kissing the column of her throat, nipping lightly at each breast, and then licking a path down to her navel.

“Open for me,” he commanded, urging her legs apart.

A wicked chill ran through her as she obeyed. She had never guessed that being so bad would make her feel so good. And Jason was about to make her feel even better.

Her breath rushed out of her in a shaky exhale as he settled between her thighs. Oh, Lord, he hadn’t even started and she was already so close to that magical place he’d taken her last night.

“Jason,” she begged, as he rubbed his face against the inside of her thigh. The scratchy growth of his beard abraded her tender flesh. She moaned and let her head fall back against the pillows. She was going to explode if he waited much longer.

“All right, pet.” His voice sounded rough and he was breathing hard. “I think you’re ready.”

She was going to kill him.

He only just now thought she was
ready
?!

All this endless, exquisite agony was because he thought she wasn’t
ready
?

She opened her mouth to tell him just how
ready
she was, but it turned to a silent scream as he licked her.

One sweep of his tongue was all that it took.

The rhythmic contractions started deep inside her and spread all over. She was shaking and crying, overwhelmed by the intensity of her release.

Jason came up beside her and pulled her onto his lap, cradling her in his arms. “Sweetheart, please, tell me you’re all right.”

She nodded, collapsing against him with a shuddering sigh. A warm golden glow was spreading over her body, and her limbs felt like they had lead weights tied to them. She yawned and tucked herself into his chest. This seemed like a very good place to go to sleep.

“Do not fall asleep now, Olivia Jane Weston,” Jason said loudly against her ear. “You can sleep for the rest of the day if you like, but it has to be in your bed.”

Livvy grumbled, but she knew he was right. She allowed herself to be pulled from the bed. A rust-colored stain marred the snowy linens.

Jason pulled the sheet off the bed and shoved it into a wooden trunk by the foot of the bed.

“I’ll dispose of it later,” he said.

“But won’t the maids think it odd that the sheet is missing?”

“I am a marquess. I am allowed to be odd.”

She laughed, and then frowned. “What am I to wear? You threw my breeches out the window last night.”

“The shirt you were wearing last night should cover you adequately,” he said, gathering up her boots, stockings, and garters. “I suppose you had best take my jacket as well. Dimpsey is acting as my valet and nothing gets past him.”

They made their way upstairs in absolute silence, encountering no one. After one last kiss, Olivia went in her room and climbed into bed. Although she had slept alone for years, after just one night with Jason the bed felt big and empty.

It wouldn’t be empty much longer.

She still couldn’t believe she was marrying Jason. She had been worried by his sudden change of heart regarding the matrimonial state, but he had set her mind at ease when he’d told her that last night had changed everything. Obviously he was referring to his talk with Charles.

Oh, she had known, she had just known, that once he learned Laura had been true, his faith in love would be restored. She didn’t even mind that he hadn’t told her he loved her. The words would come in time, and until then every kiss and tender look that passed between them assured her of his affections.

How foolish it seemed that she had once believed she would be content with marrying a man so long as his manners and hygiene were tolerably good. Jason’s manners still had some room for improvement, but he was clean. And she loved him.

She had never allowed herself to imagine that she would find a man to love. That was the stuff of novels. Of course, her life was playing out rather like a novel of late.

She fell asleep with a foolish grin on her face, and when she woke several hours later, a glance in the mirror showed that it was still there. She tried to frown, but the muscles in her face refused to obey. She skipped down to the drawing room, where she found her aunt and Jason in conversation. They broke off when they caught sight of her, and Aunt Kate came forward to embrace her.

“Oh, my dear, I am so delighted for you both.”

She pulled back and took a long look at Livvy’s face, and then turned to Jason. “I see you gave me an expurgated version of the events last night.”

Heat rose up in Olivia’s cheeks, proclaiming her guilt.

“Ah, well, you are to be married, so there’s no great harm done.” She rubbed her hands together. “I can’t begin to tell you how excited I am to begin planning. I was most put out to have missed your sister’s wedding, though it was not the happy occasion this will be. Oh, I can already see you coming down the aisle of St. Paul’s.”

“Actually, I would like to be married at home,” Livvy said. “If that is agreeable to Jason, of course.”

He sent her a heated glance. “I don’t care
where
it is, so long as it’s
soon
.”

“My dear boy, these things take time,” Aunt Kate began.

Jason held up one finger. “You may have a month.
One
.
”

“But—”

“If I had my way it would be one week,” he said. He took Livvy’s hand. “Is a month enough time for you to do whatever it is women do before weddings?”

“I think so. My mother arranged my sister’s wedding practically overnight.”

“Good.” He squeezed her fingers. “That’s settled then. Now, here is what I propose . . .”

Three Weeks, Six Days Later

“Perhaps it is for the best,” Aunt Kate suggested gently. “Now, come have a look at—”

“You seem rather calm about his disappearance,” Livvy noted, eyeing her aunt with suspicion. “You wouldn’t have had anything to do with it, would you?”

“I merely sent round a note about your upcoming nuptials.”

“And did this note suggest Charles keep his distance for a time?”

The flush staining her aunt’s cheeks had answered for her.

“Oh, Aunt Kate, how could you, especially given all he has done to see me and Jason happy?”

“My dear, has it not occurred to you that Charles’s presence would likely rouse painful memories both for him and for Jason? This marriage is a great move forward for my stepson, but not a particularly easy one, I think. In order to take this next step, he had to force himself into a position of having to do the honorable thing, which tells me he has not yet come fully to terms with his feelings for you. Do not misunderstand me, for I truly believe Jason wants to marry you. He would not have compromised you otherwise, nor would I have allowed him to do so—”

“I—You—
Allowed?”
Olivia sputtered.

“Yes, I knew what was going to happen. When a man in the grip of violent emotions insists on carrying the woman who riled those emotions up to her room, there are exactly two possible outcomes: Either he is going to blister her ears and backside before making love to her, or, if the woman is clever, she will find a way to make him forget the first and get straight to the lovemaking.”

“You might have shown a bit more concern for my backside,” Livvy muttered.

“I should hope any niece of mine would be clever enough to divert a man’s interest.” Aunt Kate winked. “Sometimes love just needs a nudge in the right direction.”

Olivia frowned. “He hasn’t said he loves me.”

“Give him time,” her aunt urged. “Men are a bit slow in that regard.”

Her mother had come over then, effectively putting an end to the conversation, but the thought continued to nag at her. Jason’s being so far away hadn’t helped matters, but he had needed to see to estate matters, while she had wanted to go home and see to wedding preparations, so they had agreed to separate on the understanding that Jason would join her, special license in hand, at Weston Manor no later than a week before they were to wed. Aunt Kate and Charlotte had traveled with her, and to her surprise, Jason had agreed to her aunt’s suggestion that Edward accompany them. Not only would it mean less tiring travel for Edward, she had pointed out, but it would also give him and Olivia more time to get to know each other before she became his stepmother. Livvy’s heart had swelled with the knowledge that Jason trusted her with his son. She knew how difficult it was for him to relinquish any sort of control, and giving Edward over into her care could not have been easy.

Her family had taken to Edward immediately, and he to them. Livvy had feared he might be overwhelmed by the general chaos of Weston Manor, but Edward had quickly adapted to his surroundings. Within a few days, it had become as normal to hear him shouting and running about as any of the other children. She had cautioned everyone that if Edward displayed any signs of being unwell or out of breath, they were to turn to quieter pursuits. She was also armed with oxymel of squills, coltsfoot water, and syrup of ipecac, for while in London she had sent to an apothecary for some of the remedies suggested in the various herbals and treatises on pharmacy she had read at Arlyss. Naturally, she had no need of them—one never did when one was prepared.

Aunt Kate’s idea to have Edward accompany them was a wise one, for Edward’s great popularity had certainly predisposed her family to like Jason. Livvy had been present earlier that week when Jason had formally asked for her hand. Her father had said yes, of course, but he’d also said that the time he’d spent with Edward had told him everything he needed to know about Jason in order to give them his blessing.

Aside from wanting to hear three little words from Jason, life was nigh perfect. Well, except for the fact that Jason was staying at Sheffield Park, the neighboring estate belonging to her sister Isabella and her husband. Whenever Jason visited at Weston Manor they were surrounded by her family, which put a definite damper on random acts of ardor.

She had spent the first three weeks she was home anticipating what she would do when she saw him. That had been trying enough. To have to wait another week, especially when he was within ravishing distance, was torturous. Jason was faring little better. He had told her yesterday that as soon as the vicar pronounced them man and wife, he was taking her upstairs and making love to her until they collapsed, and the guests could go hang. Her cheeks hadn’t stopped flaming for hours.

Only one more day, she told herself.

Though Jason had not yet given her the words she most longed to hear, he had brought other news that warmed her heart and filled her with delight. He had asked Charles to stand up with him at their wedding. She’d been worried Jason wouldn’t be able to forgive Charles for his part in the weeks leading up to Laura’s death, but he hadn’t said a single bad thing about his brother-in-law.

Perhaps, Livvy thought, Jason’s remorse over thinking Laura an adulteress had softened him toward Charles. At least, she supposed he was remorseful. They hadn’t discussed the situation. She hadn’t had the time—or the inclination, if she was truly honest—to talk about it. Now Charles was coming, she could ask him just what had been said that night.

Now where
was
he?

Jason had said Charles was to ride up from London today, and though he would be staying at Sheffield Park with Jason, she had left strict instructions that Charles was to come visit her directly he arrived. As it was the day before the wedding, Jason was to stay away on pain of death.

She heard the faint thunder of hoofbeats just before Charles’s curricle appeared at the end of the drive. Olivia hurried to the front door, yelling to Caldwell, their butler, that he needn’t bother getting up.

Charles had just handed the reins to a groom when Olivia pounced on him. He returned her enthusiastic hug. “Hello, my soon-to-be sis! Miss me?”

Olivia led him inside. “At the moment I can’t imagine why, but I actually did. Do you realize I haven’t seen you since, well, that night.”

“If by ‘that night’ you mean the night you were caught trying to enter my building, mistaken for a thief and tossed into gaol . . .”

“Keep your voice down,” Olivia hissed. “My mother has been so focused on the wedding she hasn’t found out about that yet, and I would like to keep it that way as long as possible!”

“Olivia, dear,” her mother’s voice came floating down to them from a floor above. “Is that Sir Charles I hear with you?”

“Yes,” Olivia responded as Charles called up, “Hello, Lady Weston.”

“Did I hear something about a thief and gaol?” she asked from the landing of the stairs.

“No.” Livvy’s voice was firm. “You heard nothing of the sort.”

Charles began to laugh, but he quickly covered it with a cough. “Ah, no. I’m afraid you must have misheard me.”

Her mother appeared before them with a quick wink. “I doubt it. Welcome to Weston Manor, Sir Charles. I am very pleased to meet you. I’m sorry my husband isn’t here to greet you as well, but he and Henry, my oldest nuisance, are out dealing with a situation that’s come up.”

“Nothing too serious, I hope,” said Charles.

“No. At least, I don’t think so. They never did say what it was. Truth be told, they might have made the whole thing up as an excuse to get out of the house. Men are so wonderfully missish about weddings. My sister tells me you’re not yet wed. There will be some lovely girls here tomorrow. Miss Merriwether is such a sweet—”

“Mother!”

“Oh, come. You are going to be married tomorrow. You of all people should be preaching the joys of wedded bliss.”

“As far as you are concerned, I haven’t the faintest notion what wedded bliss is or how one comes by it,” Livvy muttered.

“Olivia Jane Weston!”

Livvy grinned and kissed her mother’s cheek. “Don’t worry. After tomorrow I’ll be someone else’s problem. And with regards to Miss Merriwether, we both know she only has eyes for one gentleman.”

“And your brother hardly knows she exists.” Her mother sighed. “On the one hand, I hope Jason knows what he’s getting into. On the other, I pray he doesn’t find out until it’s too late.”

“I think it’s safe to say he’s had a fair taste of her, Lady Weston,” Charles assured her.

“More than a taste,” Olivia muttered under her breath.

“I will pretend I did not hear that, dearest.” She turned her attention back to Charles. “We’ve come to know your nephew over the past month, and he’s quite one of the family now. I hope you will make yourself at home here as well. We don’t stand on ceremony, though I have tried to instill some sense of propriety in my children. Not that I imagine you’ve seen any evidence of it in this one. I know she looks the quiet type, but if there’s some sort of trouble, my Livvy is usually in it up to her neck.”

A choking, strangled sound emerged from Charles. “You don’t say.”

Olivia could tell Charles was only just managing to hold back his laughter, so she put her hands on her hips and faced her mother. “Have I any other character flaws you wish to point out or may I show our guest around?”

“Oh, by all means. You might take a walk and enjoy the sunshine, for I doubt it will last. Caldwell tells me his knees anticipate a storm. Caldwell is our butler, Sir Charles, and his knees have been predicting the weather with startling accuracy for well over a decade.”

“Then we had best go now,” Livvy remarked. “Come, we can go out to the gardens through the study.”

“Your mother is frighteningly perceptive,” Charles said once they were outside.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” she muttered as they began to walk through the meticulously tended formal garden.

“Very well. I doubt you know that your husband-to-be is the subject of much speculation, having ordered a frightful number of gothic novels from Hookham’s.”

“He didn’t!” she gasped.

“Indeed he did. There’s a wager in the betting book at White’s over whether he is in love or whether he has descended into madness.”

“I am scared to ask which side you put your money on.”

He clapped a hand over his heart. “You wound me. The man is most assuredly mad—”

“Charles!” she exclaimed.

“—madly in love.”

“He is not,” she protested, even as her heart raced at the thought.

“Head over heels,” he insisted. “I must thank you, by the way. I am still shocked that Jason asked me to stand up with him. When he showed up at my apartments last week I thought he was coming to call me out, but he never said a word. Whatever did you say to him?”

Olivia frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you obviously broke the news gently, seeing as how well he’s taken it.”

She froze. No, he couldn’t mean . . .

“What are you talking about?” she asked in a quavering voice.

“Has love addled your wits? About Laura, of course.”

“There is no ‘of course’ about it.” She strode rapidly to a nearby marble bench and sat before her knees gave out. “Are you saying that you never spoke with Jason that night?”

“I was just about to tell him,” he said, seating himself beside her, “but then Jason recognized you as the thief and I didn’t have the chance. I had planned to come around the next day to speak with him, but when I received Katherine’s note, I figured the two of you had set things straight.”

Olivia felt her world tilt on its axis.

“He doesn’t know,” she whispered. “What am I to do?”

“I hardly think now is the time to tell him. Everyone seems to be in good spirits, and that’s bound to put a damper on things.”

“He doesn’t know,” she repeated brokenly.

Charles looked at her askance. “Livvy, are you all right?”

“No,” she snapped. “I am not all right. You
told
me you would tell him.”

“And I would have, but I didn’t plan on having the evening interrupted with a mad race to Bow Street.” His tone softened. “Look, does it really matter if he knows? He’s happy now and—”

“Do you know what he said to me?” she demanded. “He told me women are incapable of fidelity.”

“Well, unless I am much mistaken in your character, you’ll prove him wrong in fifty years or so.”

“Don’t you see? I don’t want to have to
prove
anything. I need him to trust me. How could I possibly marry a man who believes that, at some point, I will betray him? Without trust, there can’t be love. I thought he just needed time—” Her throat clogged with unshed tears.

Charles handed her his handkerchief.

Perhaps she could use it to bandage her heart.