The Convenient Bride (16 page)

Lucy supposed that was a little more believable, but still…

“Well, you can imagine how I felt, this married lady telling me about the unmentionables her husband had purchased for her. I didn’t know where to look!”

Lucy did laugh at that. “I’m sure you enjoyed every second.”

He gave her a cheeky smile. “Perhaps.”

Lucy looked over to Adam Porter. He always seemed like a nic
e, if perhaps slightly dull man, but she now began to wonder if he had hidden depths that she didn’t know about. They do say that still waters run deep, after all.

“So, do you possess anything quite so scandalous?” Giles teased, keeping his voice low.

“Even if I did, Giles, I would hardly tell you!” She hadn’t meant to sound so harsh but she was rather unnerved by the direction of this conversation. “Not even for all the wine in France,” she said in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Then I shall just have to use my imagination.” Giles laughed.

“Giles!”

“All right, all right,” he held his hands up in surrender, although he didn’t look sorry. “I’ll be good from now on, I swear.”

***

Max’s father had sat the athletics out, but so had
most of the older gentlemen present, so no one else noticed anything amiss. Max however, was looking for the signs Lucy had told him about.

They were actually all quite easy to see, the pallor, the weight loss, the glassy expression, although he supposed that having happened slowly over a few years, the changes had been so gradual
that he had failed to notice.

He hadn’t decided what to do about Lucy’s revelation yet but he did feel a little
warmer towards his father. He understood why the man had been so demanding in recent years, so obstinate when Max wanted to join the Army, and so insistent that he take responsibility. Max even felt a little bad for his behaviour now, worrying that his antics might have worsened his father’s condition.

Helping Lucy to run her estate had been very good for him and while he still resented having the title and family
lands forced upon him, he knew that he could run things adequately now, especially with Lucy’s help.

He had s
uggested they try breeding racehorses as riding had always been a passion of his, and Lucy had agreed, telling him to work out the necessary details with the steward himself. Rather than feeling that she wasn’t interested, for she certainly looked very attentive whenever he spoke of it, instead he felt that she was coming to trust him and his judgement. Breeding racehorses could be very lucrative, if you could breed fast runners.

The trick was finding the right breeding stock. You needed horses
that were fast, of course, but also who were strong and had endurance for the longer races. If you bred small, lightweight horses, they might be able to run very fast but not for very long. If you breed stocky, muscular horses, they tended to have endurance but were unable to sprint.

“Daydreaming again!” he heard his father
, Charles say.

Max
turned to his parents. “I'm sorry?” he asked, ignoring his father’s remark.

“I just asked how married life was treating you,” his mother smiled.

“Oh, very well.” There was no denying that the warm smile that creased up the edge of his eyes was genuine.

“And Lucy is well, is she?”
Eleanor’s pointed look told him she was asking about their relationship after the miscarriage, not in general.

“She’
s very well, thank you, Mother.”

“So what
had so captivated your attention a moment ago?”

“I was thinking about horses, actually,” he explained. “Next spring we
’re going to try breeding racehorses; we’re building the facilities to breed and train them now so we’ll be ready to start looking for suitable stock by the New Year.”

“That sounds lovely,” his mother commented.

He noticed his father turn his head ever so slightly in their direction but he didn’t join in the conversation.

“It’s actually
very busy around here at the moment,” Max continued. “We’re felling trees and reorganising some of the less successful farms, attempting to maximise the potential of the land.”

“Maximise?” his father finally asked
, somewhat grudgingly.

“Farming techniques are movin
g on, Father, and we have to move with the times. We’re felling trees to make way for more arable crops and the land that isn’t suitable for farming, we’re going to graze Merino sheep on.”

“And the horses?”

“Lucy doesn’t really want to get into selective breeding but the principles interest me. I already know a fair amount about horses and I'm reading up on the rest, learning as much as I can and I’ve written to a few new trainers who show potential, seeing if they would be open to taking a position here. If we can make it work, the returns on breeding racehorses are substantial.”

His father didn’t seem to know what to say to that.

“I’ll tell you what, why don’t we take the gig out tomorrow and I can show you the work in progress?” Max suggested.

“Oh, but you’ll miss the tennis tournament,” his mother noted.

“Tennis never was my game.” He gave his mother a charming smile. “Besides, it’s very bad form for the host to win, better to let the young, single chaps impress the ladies. So what do you say?” he looked to his father.

“Well, I suppose I could take a look.”

“Then we’ll go after breakfast, shall we?”

Charles nodded.

Max still didn’t know if he’d tell his father that he knew he was ill but either way, he hoped that this little tour, where Charles could see that Max was taking an active interest in running the estate, would help to set his mind at ease.

He went to get his mother some more cordial and as he handed her the glass she asked. “Maxwell, who is that young man with Lucy. He hardly seems to leave her side.”

“That is Giles Gibson,” he answered, his tone unreadable.

“Of the Northumberland Gibsons
?”

“I believe so.”

“And he’s single?”

“Yes.”

“Someone should tell him that he shouldn’t be paying so much attention to a married woman.”

Remembering Lucy’s pleas, he didn’t agree with her,
even although he wanted to.

“She and Giles are friends; he was very kind to her and she values his friendship.”

His father gave him a sharp look, one which said that Max needed to protect what was his and for the first time in a long while, Max and his father were in agreement. His pleasant expression faded and he gave Charles a curt nod, to show that he understood the dangers and was looking out for Lucy.

He might not be able to
ask Giles to leave without upsetting Lucy, but Max would certainly be keeping an eye on him.

Word of Mrs Porter
’s unusual undergarments had spread throughout the house, thanks in no small part to Giles’ loose tongue, but thankfully no one had seen fit to mention it to or around the Porters, sparing them their blushes.

Lucy however, found herself rather enamoured of the idea.

“Maxwell?” she said that evening after they had made love. He was curled into her for a change, his head resting on one soft breast, as his hand idly played with the nipple of her other breast.

“Mm?”

“Have you heard these stories of Abigail Porters’ chemises?”

“Foolish woman,” he declared. “She is already the talk of this gathering and when people head home, she will become the talk of the country, with the details exaggerated
and mis-told until she is some kind of strumpet.”

Lucy didn’t
speak again and puzzled by her question, Max raised his head.

“Why?” he asked.

“Nothing.” She shook her head but the blush in her cheeks belied her word.

“You can tell me anything,” he cajoled, keen to know what she had been thinking.

“Well…” she looked into his eyes, then looked away. “I- I was going to ask if you might appreciate something like that.”

A few moments later she chanced a look into his eyes and found them positively smouldering with desire.

“Max?”

He groaned and let his head flop down, so his forehead was now pressing into her breast.

“No,” he answered, though it was somewhat muffled.

“But you seem to like the idea.”

Max raised his head. “My darling, I won’t deny that there is a certain… animalistic pleasure in imagining you so clothed but first of all, I would not risk your reputation like that. Should the servants talk, you would be ruined.”

Lucy could see the logic in that, especially given how quickly word was spreading about Abigail.

“And second of all?” she asked, although she wasn’t completely sure that she wanted to hear the answer.

“You’re better than that, Lucy. You don’t need shocking garments to make me want you. If I wanted you any more than I already do, we would never leave this room; which would surely make living our lives a little difficult.”

Lucy nodded, accepting his logic, even if she didn’t quite like the answer.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, sensing her discomfort.

This time Lucy didn’t answer.

“Dearest, secrets haven’t led to much happiness so far; please trust me with your thoughts.”

Lucy’s cheeks felt afire with heat and she turned onto her side, putting her back to Max.

“Now you’re beginning to worry me,” he said,
sitting up and rubbing his hand up and down her arm.

Lucy hadn’t turned her back on him to hurt him
, but because she couldn’t face him while she admitted these thoughts.

“I know I’
m nothing special, Max. I'm plain, simple, inexperienced, almost innocent, nothing… nothing like the women you are used to. I worry that one day, you will tire of the newness and want… something else.”

She meant someone else but couldn’t bring herself to say that.

“You are not a toy that I will grow tired of playing with, Lucy, and I am not a child!”

“I'm sorry.” Lucy shrank a little from the venom in his voice, unused to his anger being directed at her.

Max took a deep breath to calm himself, then picked Lucy up with an arm behind her back and one under her knees and placed her on his lap, his back to the headboard. He cradled her gently against him.

“I didn’t mean to sound angry with you,” he confessed. “I am angry but with myself, not you. You are everything
that I have ever wanted and the fact that I have given you reason to doubt that galls me. You don’t need fancy garments or shocking colours to tempt me; you would be irresistible in a sack.”

“But you looked so…
interested when I mentioned it,” she said in a small voice.

“There is
something… provocative in the idea of debasing an angel, but the benefits aren’t worth the shame I'd feel. You are tempting enough as it is, and I don’t ever want you to change.”

“And what happens after five years, when you are tired of looking at the same body every night?”

“We’ll cut your hair and pretend you are Lilly, Lucy’s evil twin.”

He felt the corners of her lips twitch
against his chest but when she spoke her voice was serious.

“
But truly, Max, what will happen?”

Ma
x put a finger under her chin and gently tilted her head up, until he could look into her eyes.

“I can’t promise what the future will hold for us but I can promise that I will always love you
, and I can’t ever see there coming a day when I don’t desire you.”

“And what if that day does come?” she asked searching his eyes for her answer.

“
If
that ever happens, then we’ll talk about it and decide together what to do.” Max cupped her face between his hands and willed her to believe him. “I will be faithful to you, Lucy, today and forever, you have my word.”

Whate
ver she saw in his eyes was finally enough to relax her and she nodded and gave him a tentative smile, then she moved so that she was straddling his lap, her wet heat pressed against his length.

Max groaned with need as she began to rub her slick channel along the length of his shaft and he quickly swelled in readiness. She slipped a hand between them and guided hi
m to her entrance, closing her eyes as she sank down, letting his arousal fill her.

Their coupling was quick and
frantic and they were both panting when finished.

“Three times in one night,”
Max panted. “You’re going to be the death of me if you keep this up.”

“Me?”

“Admit it, you’re just as insatiable as I am,” he said, smiling up at her. “You rode me like a Wild West cowboy!”