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Authors: Mary Jo Putney

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BOOK: Not Always a Saint
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Jane's mouth tightened. “Maybe so, but that horse has left the stable.” She glanced out the window. “Stop the carriage. We're just outside Ashton House, so I need to get out here.”
Silently Daniel signaled to the driver, and the coach rumbled to a stop. Expression softening, Jane leaned forward and touched Jessie's hand. “Be happy, my little sweetheart.” She pulled her veil over her face, opened the door, and jumped to the ground, then started walking away with a brisk step.
Jessie stared after her. “I'm not hallucinating, am I? That really happened?”
Daniel pulled the door shut, then signaled the coachman to go through the Ashton House gates. “Indeed, it did.” He put an arm around her shoulders in a comforting embrace. “If you don't want to sit through the wedding breakfast, I can tell our guests that you're not feeling well. Too much excitement.”
She buried her face against his shoulder and ordered herself to stop shaking. “It would be very odd to miss my own wedding celebration,” she said, her voice muffled. “I'll be fine.” She'd learned how to be quite a decent actress, after all.
“We'll leave for Milton Manor fairly quickly,” he said. “Everyone will assume they know the reason why.”
She laughed a little at that. “I should have recovered from the shock of meeting my mother by then. But now I'm wondering if my father is dead or alive.” Her brief levity faded. “I've done my best not to think about him since I ran away from home. I'm sorry, Daniel. My background is even stranger than I realized.”
He smiled with deep warmth and brushed his knuckles down her cheek. “Life will never be boring with you, my dear.”
She leaned her cheek against his hand, thinking how lucky she was to have found a man like Daniel. Now it was her job to make sure he didn't regret marrying her.
Chapter 21
T
he wedding breakfast was splendid, as were all functions held at Ashton House. Fine food and drink were followed by toasts and teasing jokes and great goodwill. Beth attended the celebration, carrying her little cat Smoky in a ribbon-trimmed basket. The cat didn't seem best pleased, but he was mollified by regular morsels of food, and the chance to savage the ribbons.
Daniel was impressed by how graciously Jessie occupied the spotlight despite the shock of meeting the mother she'd thought dead. But when he stood and announced that they were leaving, he saw gratitude in her eyes.
Jessie hugged Beth good-bye, saying, “We'll come collect you at Ralston Abbey soon, little finch. Be sure to behave for the duchess!”
“I will,” Beth said blithely. “Smoky will behave, too!”
Mariah chuckled and stroked Beth's curls. “We'll have a fine time. No need to be in a hurry to have her back.”
Jessie hugged Mariah, Julia, and Laurel while Daniel shook hands with his friends and hugged his sister. “Be happy, Daniel,” Laurel whispered. “As happy as we are.”
He smiled back, not wanting her to know that this marriage was built on a much shakier foundation. “I'll try, but having seen you and Kirkland together, I'm not sure that's possible.”
She grinned mischievously. “Probably not, but do try.”
Jessie took Daniel's arm and they left in a shower of good wishes. As she settled into the luxurious coach that would take them to Milton Manor, Jessie said, “You were right. Beth is less upset by our separation than I am!”
Daniel laughed as he sat down on her left. “She's a very adaptable young lady.” He'd observed it as a trait that ran in Jessie's family.
The coil of tension inside began to unwind. Finally he was alone with his exquisite bride. Should he tell her that he'd commissioned Gordon to investigate the Reverend Cassius Braxton and find out whether the man was dead or alive?
No, that could wait until there were results. He didn't want Jessie to have any more distractions on her wedding day. Or her wedding night.
 
 
As the coach pulled through the gates onto the street with a gentle rocking motion, Jessie relaxed into the deeply upholstered seat with a sigh of relief. “Thank you for extracting us when you did. I'd used up almost all my ability to be gracious.”
Daniel smiled. “You were still charming, but you've had an unusually exhausting wedding day. It's time to relax.”
“Getting married was easy compared to meeting my dead mother, the bigamist.” Jessie tried to make her words light, but suspected that she had failed. “I don't know what to think of her. But if I'd been in her place, I would
never
have abandoned my child.” Just the thought of abandoning Beth made her feel ill.
“No, you would have found some way to get your daughter back,” Daniel agreed. “Even if you'd had to burn the parsonage down to get to her. But your mother was in a difficult situation, with no resources. Her choices were made from desperation.”
“You're kinder than I am,” Jessie said in a low voice. “My mind doesn't disagree with what you say, but my heart cries that she abandoned me, made an illegal marriage, and had more children so I . . . I no longer matter.” Her eyes squeezed shut to conceal the pain. “She sought me out only to decide I have no place in her life.”
Daniel took her hand, his calm warmth flowing into her. “She's afraid of losing what she has. Which she might, if George Lester discovers that his marriage is bigamous and his children are illegitimate. But if Braxton is dead and that fear is removed, she'll want to see you again.”
Jessie sighed. “She satisfied her curiosity today, and that's enough.”
“If we have children someday, will you love Beth any less?”
Jessie stared at him. “Don't be absurd. Beth has owned my heart since she was born. Having other children won't change that.”
He didn't reply, but his brows arched in question. She smiled wryly. “I take your point. But my mother has managed without me for over twenty years.”
“Not because she wanted to. And don't forget Beth. How could any grandmother resist her?” He smiled. “I certainly can't.”
The thought of Beth was soothing. “You do know the way to a mother's heart.”
“You are equally in your mother's heart. I'll wager any amount you want that she wept for your loss for years. Now that she's found you, she needs time to work out the best way to include you in her life,” Daniel said. “Explaining a living husband to the man who thinks they're legally married would be impossible, but if your father is dead, she can surely come up with a story to explain how she misplaced her firstborn child.”
Jessie considered that, grateful for the distraction. “That's easy, actually. Her first husband died when she was nearing her time. Distraught, she gave birth early and almost died of childbed fever. By the time she recovered, her child was gone and her mother-in-law sadly told her the baby died because the treacherous woman wanted the baby for herself. So Jane went away, widowed and thinking herself childless, and eventually found work with Mrs. Lester the elder, and George knows the rest of the story.”
Daniel blinked. “You're very good at this.”
Her mouth twisted. “Lying, you mean? I learned at my father's knee. I was so afraid of him that I always evaded the truth because I didn't know what would make him explode into rage. Truth was too fragile and precious to risk. With Philip, I learned to trust that I could speak the truth and not risk being struck, and now I prefer honesty whenever possible. But the instinct to prevaricate for safety's sake is still there.”
“My dear girl!” he said softly. “You've had to endure even more than I realized.”
The understanding in his eyes was both moving and unnerving. No one had ever understood so well, even Philip, who had been too gentle a soul to understand darkness.
She dropped her gaze and peeled off her gloves as she collected herself. This was her wedding day, and it wasn't fair to Daniel to moan about her past. “My luck has improved greatly. Thank you for marrying me, Daniel.”
“And my thanks to you for marrying
me.
” His smile came from deep inside. “Finally we can be together in complete respectability.”
She studied her new husband. He was all lean strength and mastery, and his calm had kept the meeting with her mother from being a full-on disaster.
Tonight they would share a bed. The thought was intoxicating, but surprisingly intimidating. Thinking she should admit that, she said, “I'm looking forward to finally sharing a bed, but it might be simpler if I were a nervous seventeen-year-old virgin. Then I'd have an excuse if I fail to please you on our wedding night.”
“Jessie.” His gaze was steady. “Neither Rome nor a marriage is built in a day. It will take time to learn how to best please each other, but there is undeniable attraction, and we're both sensible adults. We'll manage.”
Their gazes locked, and the rest of the world fell away. As of today, Daniel was officially the most important man in her life. And no matter how many private doubts they might have individually, as a couple they were connected by potent mutual desire.
The atmosphere in the coach intensified as they regarded each other. Still holding his gaze, she lifted her hand and drew the curtains across the window on her side of the vehicle. He did the same on his side, darkening the coach to twilight mystery. With his strong features, he looked mythic, like a Greek god.
She hoped he'd kiss her, but instead he carefully unpinned her floral headdress. “When I first saw you, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen.” He freed the circlet of flowers from the veil that fell almost to her heels and laid it on the opposite seat. “Now I
know
you're the most beautiful woman in the world. Luminous and entrancing.”
His words were ravishing, but she said uncertainly, “It's good to be seen as beautiful, but I hope that's not all, because beauty fades.”
Daniel's hands stilled and he studied her face for long moments before he replied. “You are lovely enough to stop men in the streets. I've seen it happen,” he said, choosing each word with care. “But I've met other beautiful women. The Duchess of Ashton is like a laughing angel descended to earth, yet she has never affected me as you do. You have strength and vulnerability and the wisdom that comes of hard experience. Without those things, you would be merely beautiful, as a great statue is beautiful. A woman to be admired and forgotten. You, Jezebel Elizabeth Braxton Trevane Kelham Herbert, are unforgettable.”
She bit her lip, on the verge of tears. “I asked you for a flower of reassurance, and you've given me a great entrancing bouquet. Thank you, Daniel. I shall never forget your words.”
His answering smile was bashful. “That's good, because I'm not so sure I can be as eloquent again. But when better than on our wedding day?” He returned to her hair, removing pins with delicate precision.
He had deft, powerful surgeon's hands, she thought distractedly as he freed her hair from its formal style. Each pin released a heavy coil of dark hair to fall around her shoulders, increasing the sense of intimacy between them.
“I've wanted to see your hair down since we met. It's like wild silk,” he murmured as he stroked a handful of locks smoothly over her breast. Even through layers of fabric and corseting, that light touch caused her nipple to tighten.
After he removed the last pin, he began lightly massaging her scalp with his fingertips. She wanted to purr like a cat. “That feels
wonderful.
I didn't know that my head was capable of such enjoyment.”
“Most parts of a body enjoy being touched, and we have a whole week to discover each other's favorite places. Lessons in applied anatomy.” He demonstrated by tracing the curve of her ear with his fingertip. The sensation was so delicious, her toes curled.
“How splendidly academic that sounds,” she said breathily. “I've always enjoyed learning new things.”
She leaned into him, stroking under his coat along the length of his solid, powerful torso. Her breath was quickening and she shifted restlessly in her seat. “How long is the drive to Milton Manor?”
“A bit over an hour, I'm told. Sadly, we're less than halfway.” He bent his head and licked the sensitive junction between her throat and shoulder.
Hot desire shot straight to her loins. “Time enough for some serious kissing.” She lifted her face and found his lips with her own. She craved a kiss, and instead triggered a firestorm.
“Jessie.” Daniel responded to her with swift, open-mouthed carnality. “Dear God,
Jessie!

Until now, he'd been gentle in his touch and explorations, but no longer. As his control splintered, she recognized that this fierce desire had always been part of him, a powerful current that thrummed beneath his calm surface. She'd always sensed that intensity; it had been part of his appeal. Now he was flame to her tinder, and she shattered into fire.
As one arm held her close, his other hand caressed down her body, kneading and bringing every fiber to heated life. From shoulder to breast, skimming over her ribs, rounding her hip, stroking down her leg to her knee. He tugged up her hem and his warm palm sleeked upward over her silk stocking to her sensitive inner thigh.
She gave a gasp that turned into a choked cry when his exploring fingers first touched her moist, secret folds. The sensations were almost unbearably arousing, and her legs separated to allow him to probe deeper, ever deeper.
She clawed at his back with frantic force. She wanted to meld with him, bury herself in him. Wanted him to bury himself in her. Her right hand moved down to the fierce erection straining to free itself from his formal clothing.
She squeezed and he groaned, the deep sound dissolving her remaining shreds of restraint. Too impatient to unfasten the fall on his trousers, she yanked at the fabric. Threads tore and buttons popped off to rattle across the floor of the coach.
Her eager hand closed over the silken power of heated male flesh. He jerked under her hand and groaned again as if desperate for breath.
Urgent, mindless, she raised herself from the seat and swung her right leg over him, catching his shoulders for balance as she straddled his lap. Then she lowered herself, using one hand to guide them together. They joined in one smooth movement. Lock and key, male and female, perfectly mated.
She whimpered with sensual need as he throbbed inside her. Daniel gasped and crushed her hard against him as he rammed his hips upward. She shuddered out of control, driving against him over and over as she found release. He surged into her one final time, then went still, his breathing ragged.
They were locked so closely together that she couldn't tell his hammering pulse from her own. She felt flayed, so intensely alive and sensitive that she could scarcely bear it.
Her cheek rested against his and she felt his struggle for breath, the movement of his jaw when he murmured ruefully, “I'd planned on waiting for a bed.”
Her catch of laughter helped bring her back to awareness. They were in a coach, their marriage consummated rather sooner than they'd intended. “As least we're legal now. Man and wife, wedded if not precisely bedded.”
His embrace eased. “I trust there's a bed waiting at the end of this coach ride. We must be almost at Milton Manor.”
“I suppose.” She exhaled with boneless contentment as she settled into his embrace. “You said it would take time to learn to please each other, but it didn't take any time at all.”
BOOK: Not Always a Saint
3.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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