The Viscount and the Virgin (17 page)

She lay down, with her head on his chest, and he wrapped both arms round her. Rick had always denied having night mares too, even though she had heard him crying out in his sleep. Men hated anyone seeing they had any kind of problem that might be construed as a weakness.

‘You might not have any if I stay with you,' she offered tentatively.

He chuckled. ‘You will freeze in here, once I open the windows.'

‘No, I won't,' she declared stubbornly. ‘Not with you to keep me warm. And not if we have plenty of blankets. Please, Monty, let me stay. What harm can it do?'

‘If it means so much to you,' he said with a shrug, then set about rearranging the blankets so that most of them covered her.

She watched his silhouette, backlit by the fire light as he crossed the room and began systematically to fling open all the windows. And she sighed with pure contentment. He had not been leaving her bed every night
because he did not care about her. Quite the reverse! He was at tempting to be considerate.

It was almost as if he was trying to make this marriage as real as it could be, under the circumstances. What more could she ask for?

 

It was light when he carried her back to her bed. And as he set her down, she noted that he was fully dressed.

‘I did not think you would want my valet to come in upon you in that state,' he said, covering her naked body with a sheet. Midge sleepily returned his kiss, rolled over and shut her eyes. Things could only get better from now on. He cared about her welfare. He really did. He had stood up to his father on her behalf and was beginning to talk to her as though her opinion mattered.

Her day followed its usual pattern. Though the sun shone brighter, the colours of the spring flowers were deeper, and she had far more energy, now those niggling fears over Monty's feelings towards her were easing.

She did not worry she might have done some thing to displease him when he did not put in an appearance at lunch. Since last night, she was better equipped to accept that he had many calls upon his time.

She was sitting at her writing desk, poring over the latest letter from her aunt, when he surprised her by coming into the room so quietly she had no notion he was there, until he said, ‘What news have you received to make you frown so?'

‘What? Nothing!' The letter was full of hints as to how to cope with the demands of ‘a lusty young husband.' If he caught sight of some of the things her aunt
had written, he might easily misconstrue the nature of the original questions. Guiltily, she crumpled the page and tossed it into the sitting room fire.

‘Midge,' he said reprovingly, ‘I thought we had got to the stage where we could talk about anything.'

He sighed, taking her hands between his own. ‘If some thing is troubling you, I want you to tell me. Perhaps I can help?'

Well, she was not going to admit she had been writing to her aunt about the most intimate details of their married life!

But as for the other matter…she caught her lower lip between her teeth and searched Monty's face.

She would, dearly, love to ask him what she ought to do about Stephen. For, not two days earlier, while she had been out riding with the boys, she had seen a man on a black stallion, on the brow of the hill, just on the borders of Shevington land. When he had doffed his hat to her, and she had seen his dark hair and the gleam of gold at his ear, she had instinctively started towards him. But then she had remembered Monty saying that Stephen only wanted to cause trouble.

She wanted to please Monty. It had not taken her long to see that he was nothing like her father, Kit Hebden. His handsome looks had not made him vain or cruel. He got no pleasure from deliberately shocking or hurting people. And he had been inordinately kind to her, since she had become his wife. Though she only had to think back to the scornful way he had spoken to her before he had discovered she was Rick's sister, to know she was not the bride he would have chosen in a million years. He ought to have married someone who matched him, at least in looks, if not in wealth.

No, she sighed, he had enough to contend with in her, without her deliberately flouting his wishes.

And Stephen had quite deliberately ruined her wedding day. If he was here, it was because he wanted to cause more trouble. Sadly, she had shaken her head and turned Misty around.

‘Is that a friend of yours?' Jem had asked, craning his neck round as they cantered away.

‘Why don't you want to talk to him?' put in Tobe. She
had
wanted to talk to him, that was the trouble. Even knowing he had probably only come down here to disrupt the life she was slowly establishing for herself, she could not forget he was her brother.

‘Monty would prefer me not to,' she had said sadly.

‘We won't tell on you, Midge!' Jem swore.

‘It will be our secret!' added Tobe.

‘It would not be right,' she said sadly. ‘Monty is only trying to protect me. He—' she turned and looked over her shoulder wistfully ‘—is not a good person.'

Stephen's stallion reared on its hind legs, pawing at the air. When he turned and galloped off, she had felt raw inside. He might not be a good person now, but she could not shake off the memories of how she had always been able to run to him, before the days of the murder and his banishment. Now that he was here, her impulse was to run to him again.

For he was her brother!

That very morning, she had seen Stephen again. Though she had deliberately got the boys to ride out in a different direction, Stephen had found them. And this time, he had been on Shevington land.

And that really worried her. She already knew Monty considered him a menace. She was fairly certain that
this was one topic on which the earl would be in total accord with his son. She had learned the way titled, landed gentry thought of Gypsies from her grand father and then her uncle.

Stephen had escaped detection so far. But if she told Monty he was in the area, would he feel compelled to have him hunted down and arrested for trespass? She knew that Monty would only consider he was protecting her. But she had no wish to precipitate an action that would hurt the man who had already suffered so much because of her family. No matter why he had come here.

And so, though she longed to be able to be completely honest with Monty, she mustered up a brittle smile and waved her hand airily towards the letter smouldering in the fire place.

‘It was just some marital advice from my aunt that made me a little embarrassed.'

‘Oh?' He glanced at the letter, then back at her troubled face. ‘Now I am truly intrigued.' His face took on a purposeful look. ‘In fact,' he growled, ‘I demand that you tell me.'

With one swift movement, he had her flat on her back on the floor, on the hearthrug, her arms pinned above her head. The demonstration of superior strength was so un expected, so very forceful, that if she had not recognized the gleam of mischief in his eyes, she might have felt afraid. As it was…

‘Tell me,' he growled low into her ear, ‘or I shall…'

‘What?' she gasped, squirming with excitement. ‘What will you do to me?'

He raised himself a little, and ran his eyes slowly along the length of her body.

‘Dreadful things…' he warned her, lowering his head and biting gently through the material of her gown, at a nipple that was sitting up and begging for his attention.

‘You promised to obey me,' he said with mock severity. ‘So, if you won't tell me this instant what was in that letter, then I shall have to punish you.'

‘H-how?' She panted eagerly.

‘By making you suffer,' he promised her, sweeping her skirts up to her waist and subjecting her to a few moments of sensual torment.

‘By making you beg,' he warned her, stopping what he was doing just before she went over the edge. ‘And finally, by making you scream.'

‘You wouldn't,' she said a little un certainly. He had not even wanted her to sleep in a cold bedroom. He would surely do nothing to hurt her! ‘You d-do not want to make me scream.'

With a wicked grin, he lowered his head and set his mouth to what she considered a most in appropriate place, kissing her where…

‘No!' she whimpered.

This could not be right! But she could not stop him. His hands were clamped hard round her wrists, and his shoulders pinned her thighs apart.

‘Please…' she begged, arching up against his mouth. ‘Stop it!'

But he did not stop, and before much longer, just as he had predicted, she was screaming out her shocked pleasure.

And then soaring to the heights all over again when he made love to her in the more conventional mode.

She did not recall him carrying her to her bed, but
he must have done, because she did not wake up on the hearthrug, where she had expired from exhaustion when he had finished with her.

That night at dinner, she could not stop looking at his mouth and wondering how on earth he had learned that it was possible to do such extraordinary things with his tongue.

‘You ate hardly anything tonight,' he observed, when they entered their suite later. ‘Were you not hungry?'

‘You know very well why I could not eat any thing,' she whispered, backing away from him as he stalked towards her in a purposeful fashion. ‘I am still far too shocked by…' She bit down on her lower lip, shaking her head.

‘Your punishment?' He chuckled, catching her up in his arms and carrying her to her bedroom.

‘Yes— No…' She pushed a hank of hair out of her eyes, looking up into his face with exasperation. ‘I cannot imagine how you could have known how to do that to me…I mean…' She felt her cheeks go hot, and knew her face must be bright red. It was such an odd thing to decide to do, if he had not known what the effect on her would have been. But if he had known what it would do to her, then he must have done it before. To some other woman.

She wondered if that other woman had screamed, too. And felt sure she must have done. Or Monty would not have warned her that
she
would.

‘Oh, this is hopeless,' she grumbled as he set her down at the foot of the bed, spun her round and deftly began to undo her gown. ‘You know so much about all this, and I know virtually nothing!' She had even had to write to her aunt to find out if it was normal for newly
married men to want to sleep in a different bed from their wife!

‘What do you want to know?' he said, nuzzling at the nape of her neck.

So many things! But mostly, ‘If I am supposed to enjoy this quite so much!' she blurted out.

Her aunt and uncle had convinced her that she came nowhere near the standards of behaviour expected from a proper lady. And she was half-afraid that enjoying this aspect of their marriage proved that she was only one step away from being a complete wan ton. Heavens, she would let him do just about anything to her. Anywhere! In a stable. On the hearthrug. She had even cavorted naked across the room last night to entice him, like the veriest light skirt!

It would be nice to hear him say some thing re assuring. Instead he made a strange choking sound against her neck, before beginning to chuckle.

‘What is funny?' she asked, a little hurt. She had asked a perfectly serious question!

‘You!' He chuckled. ‘I never know what you are going to say next!'

Oh, well, she sighed. That was what came of fishing for compliments. She supposed she ought to feel grateful that at least he found her amusing. Her mother must have been so hurt whenever Kit told her she was boring.

Besides, a lady never gave way to her emotions, she could hear her aunt telling her. In a marriage such as theirs, the last thing her husband would want was an emotional scene. Their…marital conversation…was one area where so far, they seemed to be in harmony. She would be a fool to turn it into a bone of contention and needlessly drive a wedge between them.

‘That first afternoon you were here, do you remember?' Monty said, his arms snaking round her waist. ‘I left you to your own devices for five minutes, and while my back was turned, you managed to turn the stuffiest, most oppressive room in the whole place into a scene of utter carnage!' Even now, the memory of her struggling up out of the curtains and declaring proudly that she had not broken anything, made him want to chuckle.

She was the sunniest, brightest thing that had ever come into his life. Shevington was not a cold, in hospitable place while she resided under its roof. Even when faced with one of his father's most chilling lectures, he only had to think of the warm welcome waiting for him up here in these rooms to feel a smile welling up inside. Naturally he could not keep his hands off her. Not when she responded with such un feigned enthusiasm. No matter what he did.

His con science had troubled him after the way he had fallen on her, ravishing her on the sofa the first night they had arrived. Only the night before that, she had been a virgin! He should have been gentle and considerate. The rough way he had taken her had left her shaking with shock. He had paced up and down his room that night, cursing his lack of restraint and wondering how he could make amends. Though, with her typical generosity of nature, she had made the after math easy for him.

Every day, he thanked God he had found her. He loved the way her heart raced, just because he touched her. He loved that look of shocked gratitude in her eyes whenever he brought her to the heights of pleasure. And he loved watching her vainly struggling to stay awake, before eventually falling into a sated sleep in his arms.

He loved the fact that he was no longer on his own. He hugged her tight. She was his. Wholly his. To cherish and protect.

And speaking of which…

‘Midge,' he said solemnly, turning her round in his arms to face him. ‘You make me forget what I wanted to say to you.'

He was perturbed to see her looking quite upset, and suddenly realized it had not been very tactful of him to laugh at the naiveté of her earlier question.