Miss Winters Proposes (10 page)

“I take it this is…pleasurable?” she asked. Her lips lifted into a wicked grin.

“
That
is an understatement.” He closed his eyes and groaned. She touched the sensitive tip of his cock, her fingers working magic on his lower extremities. Should she continue to tease and taunt him, he would not last long, He pushed off the bed and stood, taking in the glorious sight before him, his wife, with her copper triangle of curls between legs bending under his inspection.

Her skin flushed red, her arms instinctively crossing over her. He gently straightened her legs, spreading them apart to slip his fingers into the wet folds between them.

Juliet’s back arched. A soft mewing sound escaped her lips. Benjamin touched his other hand to the soft nub of her womanhood, his fingers rubbing over the tender pink flesh.

“What are you…?” Her words trailed into a low moan. Her hips lifted, her bottom rising off the bed.

He grasped his arousal and plunged into her, her slick heat sheathing him. With every thrust and rock of his hips, words escaped him. The world slipped away as his need was met, his desire filled, his heart opened to Juliet and her idiosyncrasies.

“Benjamin.” Her body tensed and she let out a moan of pleasure. Pulling her against him, he met her climax, his muscles taut as he released his seed and his heart, dispelling any thoughts he may have had on Juliet’s impending departure—from both his bed and his life.

…

Juliet lay sprawled over the tousled bed sheets, the heat of her husband’s naked body keeping her warm against the early morning chill. Benjamin’s hand brushed over her thigh, the languid touch stoking the heat low in her abdomen.

Cleo whined, her pale head rising over the edge of the padded mattress, her wet tongue lapping at Benjamin’s dangling arm. With a small sigh, Juliet dug her palms into the bed and pushed her chest upright, her gaze catching that of her contended husband. “I must depart. Cleo requires nourishment.”

Benjamin wrapped his arms around her, pulling her bare breasts against the hard planes of his chest. “As do I. You’ve worked me to near starvation.”

“Then we should make ourselves decent and head toward the kitchens. I do not want to be accused of mistreating my husband on the very first day of our marriage.” The corner of her mouth twitched, despite the heat rushing to her cheeks.

His grip tightened, his mouth lowering to the top of her head. He spoke into her hair, her tangled tresses muffling his voice. “Can you not have food brought to the room?”

She giggled, the heat in her cheeks rising. “Not if I wish to have working staff in my absence. They’ll forget my father’s needs entirely, their wagging tongues too busy whispering about your indecent presence in my chambers.”

“I’m not entirely indecent,” Benjamin said. He coiled one of her curls around his finger. “You make an excellent covering.”

Juliet burst into laughter, her sides near aching with the revelry. “Be that as it may, I still have a very persistent hound to feed and exercise this morning.”

“Will they not receive exercise enough on the road to Darlington?” he asked, combing his fingers through her hair.

She lifted her head and shrugged. “I suppose. But they still need to be nourished.” She traced her finger over the pink circle of his nipple. His hand shot out and gripped her wrist.

“For a woman so intent on leaving, you do a fine job of supporting a case to the contrary.”

“I promise to be quick.” Juliet lowered her lips and kissed the hand wrapped around her.

“With me or the dog?”

She nipped his finger. “With the dog, you brute. Father and I are the only two who feed the kennel. It encourages bonding between us and the hounds.”

“It also encourages discomfort as I sit in a state of arousal awaiting your return.”

“Benjamin,” she scolded, her cheeks likely the color of claret. Cleo whined and paced alongside the bed, her nails clicking over the floorboards. “The sooner I leave, the quicker my return.”

A knock on the door had Juliet’s hands scrambling for the linens and a modicum of modesty. Benjamin stilled, his dark eyes staring at the door.

“My lord,” a voice sounded through the dense wood. “A message has arrived from Darlington Hall. From a Mr. Meadowcroft, sir.”

His eyes narrowed. “Send the note under the door.” Benjamin left her to retrieve the folded piece of foolscap before Cleo could sink her teeth into the rough paper. Her husband poured over the contents of the missive, his thick brows furrowing.

“What is it?”

“Mr. and Mrs. James Meadowcroft and their children are eagerly awaiting our visit at Darlington.”

Juliet pulled the bed sheet tight around her chest. “Are you well acquainted with the Meadowcrofts?”

He lifted his eyes, his troubled gaze capturing hers. “I am. Mrs. Eleanor Meadowcroft is my twin sister.”

Chapter Eleven

Having never had a sibling, Frederick being the closest semblance of one, and him two decades older than her, Juliet was uncertain of what awaited them at Darlington Hall.

If she were to take into account the silent, and somewhat awkward, ride to Benjamin’s ancestral home, along with his sudden shift into an irritable, sullen, and overall cantankerous ogre, she’d wager something akin to a gorgon was set to meet them. Complete with talons, leatherlike wings, and a mane of venomous snakes.

Which led her to believe perhaps the absence of a sibling was not the curse she had always thought it to be, but a blessing in disguise.

Then again, his sister was most likely the victim of ill-timing and not the horrible mythical creature Benjamin’s rigid posture and agitated facial features suggested. Likely, she was a warm extension of his family, a veritable paragon of hospitality and friendliness.

Unless, of course, his foul mood had less to do with his sister and more to do with Juliet. Perhaps he did not want her meeting his family for fear she might develop a friendship or grow an attachment to people dear to his heart. To people he did not want to hurt upon her impending departure. A connection to his family would only make things more difficult.

For him…and her.

Juliet rushed to keep stride with Benjamin as they raced through Darlington’s halls. The house itself had changed little since her proposal, the impressive manor house, with its gilded moldings, decorated plaster ceilings, and sparkling crystal chandeliers was still a model of English pride and architecture. Tasteful portraits of Benjamin’s predecessors lined the walls, likely bearing the same striking features as her husband, if she had a chance to slow down and assess them.

Benjamin’s pace, however, was not in keeping with a leisurely stroll, but a clipped walk. He turned around a corner, his staccato footsteps echoing in the expanse of the grand foyer—and into the presence of Mr. and Mrs. Meadowcroft.

“James. Eleanor.” Benjamin bowed, catching his breath. He turned and motioned for Juliet to stand beside him. “This is Lady Juliet Colwyn, my wife. Juliet, Mr. James Meadowcroft, and my sister, Mrs. Eleanor Meadowcroft.”

“Eleanor, please.” The young, and swollen with child, woman grabbed Juliet’s hands. “It is such a pleasure to meet you. And quite the relief. We were beginning to believe my brother’s declaration he would remain a bachelor indefinitely. I cannot tell you how very glad we are you have proven him wrong.”

Juliet’s cheeks warmed. “Well, I…you’re welcome?”

Eleanor’s face split wide with a grin. “You must tell me all about the wedding. I am so very sorry we missed it. The ghastly roads prevented the carriage from making any progress, its use necessary due to my condition.” She ran a hand over the bump at her abdomen. “Of course, had we more warning, we could have made our way sooner.” She slipped Benjamin an agitated glare before returning her gaze to Juliet. “You must divulge your secrets, my dear. I am simply dying to know the story behind your nuptials.”

Gorgon, indeed.

Raven dark tresses, expertly arranged and pinned were hardly comparative to writhing, hissing snakes. Nor were the pair of warm, friendly brown eyes anything like the cold set of Medusa that could turn mortals into stone. From her winsome smile to her most gracious welcome, Mrs. Eleanor Meadowcroft was the paramount of hospitality. And, as Juliet had suspected, absolutely nothing like the gorgon she had first imagined.

Which made lying to her all the more difficult.

“You wish to know the details of our story?” Juliet asked. She wove her fingers together in an effort to stop their trembling.

Eleanor’s eyes lit. “Of course. Now, I know he did not steal you away at Almack’s, as he has not set foot in a ballroom in years. Did he meet you through common acquaintances? Or woo you with treats from Fanny’s Confectionery? Her candy is simply sinful. I daresay if James had not whisked me away my first season, I would have married the first man who had offered me a handful of her salted caramels.”

Glancing toward her husband for some sort of assistance, Juliet shook her head. She couldn’t very well tell the woman the truth. “No, he—”

“Then by song, perhaps? My brother has a delightful baritone when he chooses to use it, which, if I might say so, is far too infrequent.”

“Eleanor, please, you flatter me.” Benjamin lifted Juliet’s hand to rest on his forearm. “Perhaps we can continue this discussion later after—”

“You sing, my lord?” Juliet glanced up at the man beside her. She had never even heard him hum.

“No.”

Eleanor clicked her tongue. “Come now. Excluding your fair wife, we have all borne witness to your talent. You needn’t be modest, Benjamin.”

“I am not being—”

“If it wasn’t by song, then mayhap by letter? My brother is also quite skillful with the pen. I believe he has written a poem or two.”

Juliet’s sensible husband wrote poetry?

She stared at the viscount, her gaze sweeping over the side of his shaven face, his angled jaw making her pulse race as she recalled where it had pressed against her only a few hours earlier. He was a poet? Who wrote the food of love?

She fully believed it possible. The past few days he had been nothing but a romantic, sweeping her off her proverbial feet with his charming words of affection. But that he should record them with pen and paper… Juliet caught Benjamin’s irritated gaze. “No, his lordship did not write his offer.”

Eleanor nodded. “’Tis probably for the best. Writing of his affection is not nearly as expeditious as stating it out loud.” She unlaced her fingers and tapped them against her chin. “If not by pen, I confess I’m at a loss. Precisely how did my twin brother propose?”

The entryway fell silent, Eleanor staring expectedly in Juliet’s direction. Yes, the proposal. The one where she blackmailed her husband into offering for her.

But offer for her, he had. Juliet simply had to omit the extenuating circumstances that had forced his hand. The truth could yet be told, albeit a restricted and slightly skewed version…

Benjamin placed his hand atop hers, sending her stomach fluttering. “As much as we would like to divulge the details of our courtship, I am quite anxious to see how Artemis is faring after our trip. She is with the staff, but I fear they are not familiar with the feeding rituals that were established during her time at Hollington. I must tend to her meal.”

“But you only just arrived, and we have yet to become acquainted with your new wife. Why don’t we sit and have tea? We can rest over some conversation before you retreat into the kitchens.”

His sister’s lids fluttered over misted and pleading eyes. The woman was near begging…much like Juliet had done a few weeks prior in this very house to the very same man. What sort of past lay between the two that Benjamin shouldered such an indifference to his twin?

One Juliet was bent on discovering. Eleanor had her questions. And so did Juliet.

She stared up at her disgruntled spouse. “That would be lovely, would it not, my lord?” She placed her hand over his, pulling him away from the staircase and toward his sister. “I am certain Mr. and Mrs. Meadowcroft would be quite entertained to hear about our common interest in hounds.”

Benjamin’s grip clenched around her arm.

And Eleanor’s smile brightened to the same intensity of a summer sun.

“Of course. I wish to know all about this interest. Are you a hound aficionado, Lady Colwyn?”

Juliet followed Eleanor down the hall and into a salon filled with dark mahogany furnishings and a contrasting white marble fireplace. “I am. My father’s kennel boasts England’s finest examples of English pointers. Perhaps you have heard of his line?”

Eleanor shook her head whilst motioning for Juliet to take a seat. “I am afraid I am ignorant of anything related to hunting and dogs, and indeed any animal beyond a horse. It is Benjamin who fancies himself the expert on the breed. Why, for a brief period, we were all concerned he would marry Artemis and proclaim her the viscountess, so loyal was his devotion.”

Juliet stifled a giggle.

“Really, Eleanor,” Benjamin said his voice heavy with sardonicism. “Your levity is trifling.”

“You needn’t be rude. I was only commenting on truth. You and that hound are inseparable.”

Mr. Meadowcroft entered the room. He stood behind his wife and settled her onto a velvet-covered chaise lounge. “As he should be. Unlike Mrs. Meadowcroft, I am informed in the bloodlines of hounds and know the enormous value attached to Artemis and her future litter. That you, Lady Colwyn, should be the daughter of Lord Roughton, why, I must say I am honored to be in your acquaintance. Your father provides invaluable companions and the finest hunters I have had the pleasure of utilizing.”

Juliet smiled so wide her cheeks hurt. “You are familiar with his kennel, Mr. Meadowcroft?”

“I am. Anyone with any interest in hounds knows of his superior line of pointers. That Benjamin here has had his bitch bred with the pride of Roughton’s kennel has made me green with envy.”

“Speaking of hounds, we need to see to their comfort.” Benjamin wrapped an arm around Juliet’s waist, pulling her away from an inviting burgundy-colored settee and into the hard planes of his chest.

Mr. Meadowcroft’s brow’s furrowed. “
Their
? I was under the assumption you had only Artemis. Did you acquire more?”

“My father’s kennel was part of my dowry,” Juliet said, ignoring her husband’s ever-tightening grip. “Along with me, Lord Colwyn has acquired my father’s hounds.”

Mr. Meadowcroft burst into a smile. “Your father’s hounds? I must say, that is quite a spectacular and generous dowry. Why, he must have at least a dozen of the most sought-after pointers in the country.”

“Four, or rather five with Cleoe, the first of my line. My father and I have extraordinarily high standards and only keep those pups whom we feel meet our exacting requirements.”

Eyes gleaming, Mr. Meadowcroft nodded. “Yes, of course, that explains why your hunters are so sought after. The demand far outweighs the limited supply—a supply that will become even more valuable now with your father’s retirement.”

“Yes, well, the hounds.” Benjamin ran his hand up and down her arm. “With Artemis in her state of increasing, we really ought—”

“While it is true my father has quit his hobby, he has long entrusted me with the care of his kennel. Rest assured, his line will continue to supply the aristocracy with their favorite gun dogs.”

“How delightful,” Eleanor exclaimed. “Half the
ton
will be banging down your door demanding pups from your kennel, Benjamin.”

“Not his kennel, precisely, but rather mine,” Juliet corrected.

Mr. Meadowcroft lifted his brows. “
Yours
? Are you suggesting you will be involved in the selection of hounds for breeding, my lady?”

“Yes,” Juliet said shortly, Mr. Meadowcroft’s light mocking tone putting her on alert. “I have started my own line, one with a superior sense of smell that even my father’s champion cannot match. Of course I have plans to breed more, specifically one of Artemis’s litter with—ow—” she yelped, glancing up at her husband, whose finger had jabbed into the soft flesh of her side.

Benjamin’s gaze darted to the door and back to her. “It has been lovely, Eleanor, Meadowcroft, but we really ought—”

“Your own line?” Mr. Meadowcroft asked. “How spectacular. Are these superior hounds here? At Darlington?”

Juliet gave an emphatic nod. “They are, indeed. Cleo is my first. She continually outperforms Horatio, my father’s prize stud, although his skills are extraordinary. Her dam was part foxhound and I believe that has given her an advantage—”

“The dust. It has been so dry,” Benjamin said, letting out a horrible, dry, and utterly forced cough.

Eleanor peered at him with something akin to disbelief. “It snowed yesterday. The roads were so muddied and we were not able to traverse over them.”

“Well, the staff must have dusted this room, stirring up whatever motes were present.” He waved his hands in front of his face.

“I would like to take a look at this bitch of yours, Lady Colwyn,” Mr. Meadowcroft said, excitement filling his voice. “I confess I am intrigued by your unusual talent.”

“Yes, of course. Cleo is usually at my side, but is currently being tended to by Lord Colwyn’s staff. I will arrange for you to meet her as soon as she is fed.”

“Benjamin’s staff. Has he told you how he took in most of them from the least fortunate families of his tenants? Enabling them to better themselves and feed their families with monies earned from their work?” Eleanor asked. She lifted a fan off the table and flicked the silk tassel dangling from its end.

Benjamin’s grip lessened. “Yes, a story for another time, perhaps. I fear you look pale, Eleanor. Some rest is undoubtedly required for your complexion.”

Juliet wrested free from Benjamin’s grasp and strode toward the empty seat beside his sister, eager to learn more about his past and perhaps something about the animosity directed toward his fair sibling. “Why, she has a beautiful glow about her, likely due in part to her condition.”

“Oh, I don’t know about any glow.” Eleanor gave a sheepish grin. “But I do confess to feeling a little more tired than I first believed. Perhaps you are right, Benjamin. I may benefit from some rest. I am not quite as spry as I once was, am I, dear brother? Do you recall when we used to torment our elder siblings, pursuing them relentlessly through the woods, until they had to allow us to join them on their fishing trips because we had already ventured so far? Oh, to have that sort of vigor again…”

“Elder siblings?” Juliet had assumed Benjamin was the eldest, as he stood in possession of the title. But Eleanor had said fishing…and while Juliet enjoyed the sport, it was not a popular pastime for women to openly enjoy.