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“I can’t wait to meet your friends. What of your grandparents, Jeremy?”
“They live in London nearly all the year, but I’ll take you to meet them soon. They will adore you, Georgina, if only for the fact that you married me. When Grandfather gets a look at you, he’ll worship the ground you walk on. We’ll also go for the Season each spring and take our place, and the business is there of course, but for now I just want to have you all to myself at Hallborough.”
As she looked up at him, her amber eyes clear and bright, listening to him rambling, she just looked so beautiful, he had to touch her. A finger reached out and started at her eyebrow and drew around her face in a complete circle. On the second pass around he traced her lips, remembering how sweet they tasted.
“You’ll be the princess of Hallborough Park, and I’ll protect you, and adore you, and make gorgeous babies with you. How does that sound?” He watched her face for anything akin to discomfort at his frank suggestion, but didn’t find it. She just smiled in her unruffled way.
“Perfect, and makes me feel like I am a princess for truth. You make me feel like that, Jeremy. You are Sir Jeremy, the gallant knight who rescued me.”
How about the knave who can’t wait to get the beauteous princess into his bed! “I am glad, sweetheart. I’ll try valiantly to remain worthy of your esteem, dear lady.” He bowed his head.
“Always, Jeremy.”
He prayed her confidence in him would hold true later when the time came to take her to bed. He didn’t feel at all like a gallant knight. More like a licentious cad.
His honorable intentions toward Georgina had left him in a state of varying degrees of arousal for weeks. Jeremy hadn’t been with a woman since the night he’d met Tom Russell in London. And he felt it—right down the length of his aching cock.
* * * *
Jeremy breathed in the smell the sea the moment he stepped out of the coach and found it fortifying. Dusk was just beginning to darken the sky, and the sound of the surf hummed at the shore far below.
With a dramatic flourish, Jeremy helped his bride to exit and led her to the staff awaiting them on the front steps. The dark-gray stone of Hallborough Manor rose up silent before them, buffeted by the evening ocean breeze. The house had been extensively remodeled sixty years prior in the revivalist Gothic style, its tall pointed window arches pointing heavenward, evoking a kind of ancient spirituality among the natural elements of sea and earth and rock.
The housekeeper, Mrs. Richards, and his steward, Mr. Mills, received the couple warmly, having prepared for their arrival fastidiously. The torches ablaze outside, the chandeliers shining through the windows from the inside offered an earnest welcome and were so very comforting to Jeremy. He wanted Georgina to love this home as much as he did.
A quick introduction to staff and a very brief tour was all the time they had before the dinner hour was upon them.
Cook outdid herself on the regal dinner set out for the newlyweds. There were scalloped oysters in a white soup, flaky croquettes, and roast venison among a dozen other dishes they hardly touched. They served each other as was the custom, and Jeremy poured the wine. He noted that she drank two goblets and thought that was probably a good idea.
They stared at each other over their plates, Jeremy imagining how gorgeous she would look tonight and wondering how to do this with
out scaring her. He refilled her glass a third time and offered the lemon custard tart with a smile. Georgina returned the smile, accepted the wine, and declined the custard tart.
Now that he had her safe from Pellton and Strawnly, he still had another problem. Jeremy wasn’t completely sure how to curb his rough nature when in the throes of the act.
He’d always liked his sex unconventional and had never tried or had reason to rein himself in. A little rough, dominating, experimental, he’d done just about everything possible with his cock and mouth and fingers in and on a woman’s body. He’d done plenty of fucking, all with people he felt nothing for. He’d never made love to a woman though. In that realm, he was a doe-eyed virgin.
The added complication of Georgina’s brutal assault made her all the more fragile. He knew he couldn’t be how he’d been before. Not with her. That kind of sex was over for him.
* * * *
I can do this. Despite telling herself repeatedly like a chant, Georgina wasn’t so sure. She had agreed, signed her name, and left her home under the protection of her husband. Yes, husband. She had a husband. A husband who expected to be welcomed into her bed to begin their marital duties. I can do this.
She thought of Jeremy and what she knew of him. He was kind and gentle. Very gallant. Amusing, too. Just last night he’d held her in bed, and she’d never felt safer than she had in his embrace as she drifted to sleep. Surely he wouldn’t hurt—
“Your bath, ma’am.” The maid spoke softly.
“Thank you, Jane.” Georgina presented her back, grateful for the interruption into her runaway thoughts that could lead no place good.
Jane helped her out of the gold gown she’d changed into for traveling and into a steaming bath behind a paper screen. The girl was young, probably not more than eighteen, but surprisingly efficient for an inexperienced lady’s maid. Mrs. Richards had introduced Jane as her niece, explaining that she would fill in until such time as interviews for a proper maid could be arranged. The girl seemed scared to death, and Georgina’s heart went out to her. The poor thing had probably been threatened with punishment if she displeased the new mistress.
“Are you new to this house?” Georgina asked through the screen.
“Yes, ma’am. I arrived just yesterday, but I haven’t come from far away. Just the next village over.” Her voice caught slightly.
“Ah, but it’s not what you’re used to is it?”
“Not really, ma’am. I left behind seven brothers and sisters at home.” She trailed off and then thought better of it because she spoke the rest faster and louder. “But I am pleased to serve you however I may, Mrs. Greymont.” The girl was honest at least, and Georgina liked that.
