The Viscount and the Virgin (14 page)

Feeling rather at a loose end, Midge sidled along to a window and gasped with pleasure. She could see a river winding artistically down to a lake that filled the bottom of a thickly wooded valley. And, if she pressed her nose to the window pane, the corner of a building that looked very much like stables. She hoped there would be a decent mount for her. Her spirits lifted as she regarded the short turf sweeping round the lake and a track leading into the woodland. Oh, how she would enjoy being able to go for a really good gallop again!

Some where, at the bottom of one of her trunks, she'd had Pansy pack the disreputable old riding habit she had brought with her from Staffordshire. She had ensured it survived every single one of her aunt's culls of her wardrobe, and now she could hardly wait to don it again!

She was just wondering if it was safe to enter her room yet, to get washed and changed in readiness for
the earl's visit, when she heard a hesitant scratching noise at the main door.

When she opened it, she saw two identical small boys, dressed in nankeen breeches and rather shabby jackets.

‘You must be Monty's brothers!' She beamed down at them. ‘You look so much like him!' And they did, in spite of what he had said about them possibly having different pa rent age. Both of them had his thick, fair hair, startlingly green eyes and dimples in the centre of very determined chins.

One of them dug the other in the ribs with his elbow. ‘She means Vern.'

The other nodded. ‘Spec so.' Then added, ‘We aren't supposed to be here.'

‘But we wanted to take a look at you.'

‘And show you Skip,' said the first, looking down at the front of his jacket which was filled out by a mass of some thing squirming. The corner of a dog's ear promptly flipped out over the edge of the boy's lapels.

‘Oh, is it a terrier?' she asked, warmed by the first sign of anything approaching informal behaviour since setting foot in the house.

The twin with the bulging jacket nodded. ‘Best ratter in the county,' he declared.

Midge bit back a grin. The boy was probably only allowed to use his dog under the strict super vision of a game keeper, within the bounds of his own park. But the fact remained he was immensely proud of his pet and wanted to show it off to his new big sister.

She pulled the door open wider to let the boys and their dog in. The twins scanned the corridor behind
them rapidly, then ex changed a look with each other, before darting into the formal sitting room.

The minute the door closed behind them, the boy with the dog undid his jacket, and a very excited tan-and-white terrier dropped onto the rug. Tail up, nose down, it embarked on a rapid exploration of the room. Its little paws scrabbled frantically on the smooth surface of the floor boards when it left the safety of the carpet, but it had been running so fast it was unable to slow its skid by much, and landed against the wainscot under the window with an audible thud.

Midge stifled a giggle as, with a doggy attempt at non cha lance, Skip put his nose straight down and began to sniff determinedly along the wainscoting, as though this was exactly where he had decided to be.

‘Looks like he's got the scent of a rat,' said his owner knowingly.

‘I am sure there are no rats up here,' said Midge. There were so many staff, and the house hold appeared so strictly ordered, she was quite sure no rat would find a home behind the woodwork.

‘Do you—' the second twin took a deep breath ‘—do you like animals?'

‘Yes, I do.'

He brightened up immediately, reached into his own jacket, and extracted the sinuous body of a ferret. ‘This is Tim. I use him for rabbitting.'

Skip's head shot up. He looked straight at Tim, pulled back his lips and snarled in the manner of one greeting an old adversary. The ferret shot out of the boy's grasp, the dog bounded back onto the carpet, and for a few seconds, the floor about Midge's feet was a blur of fur and teeth and tails.

The ferret emerged from the mêlée first, streaking across the rug and straight up the curtains where it found a precarious perch on the curtain rod.

The terrier started jumping up and down on the spot, yapping furiously for a few seconds, then, balked of its prey, sank its teeth into a fold of velvet and worried at the curtain as though killing a rat. The action made the curtain pole, on which the ferret was balancing, rattle in its moorings. Tim promptly abandoned it and ran along the picture rail, scattering items of pottery as he went.

Uttering a cry of alarm, Midge flew across the room in time to catch a bud vase, a cup and a plate in rapid succession while Skip, who seemed to have temporarily for got ten that it was the ferret he had been after, re doubled his ferocious attack on the curtains.

When the ferret reached the chimney breast, instead of swarming round its edges, it ran straight down the silk wall pa per, landing on the tea table, where it used the vase as a spring board to launch himself into his master's waiting arms. The vase wobbled, rocked, then pivoted towards the edge of the table. Midge dived to catch it, at the exact same moment that Skip's hind legs found purchase on the carpet and he finally managed to make some headway. Just as Midge's hands closed round the vase, the curtain pole parted company from its moorings, bringing yards of green velvet slithering down on her.

From within the smothering folds of the curtains, Midge heard the crash of breaking crockery, a yelp and the clang of the brass curtain pole landing on the floor.

It was hard to breathe. Even harder to find a way out of the heavy curtaining wrapped round her body. Eventually, she found a chink, through which she saw
that the sound of breaking crockery had come from the doorway, where a maid had dropped the promised tea tray. The vase, she noted with a feeling of triumph, was lying cushioned by a fold of velvet, the plate, cup and bud vase beside it. She pushed the curtain off her face and sat up.

‘Not a single thing broken!' she crowed, flushed with success.

There was no sign of the dog or the ferret, but the twins were standing before the hearth, clutching each other's hands as they stared, aghast, at the slender, fair-haired gentleman who had paused just beyond the wreckage of the tea things.

Monty was there, too, sauntering across from his own quarters, and bowing politely to the fair-haired gentleman.

He cleared his throat, then waved one arm in the direction of the cascade of curtaining, from the depths of which Midge was still struggling to emerge.

‘Allow me,' he said, ‘to present my wife.'

The fair-haired gentleman's eyes swept the length of Midge's legs, which had emerged from the curtaining minus her skirts. Then, his nostrils flaring in a fastidious expression of distaste, he turned on his heel and stalked away.

‘W
e didn't mean any harm, Vern!'

The twins were having a hard time keeping up with Monty as he strode out of the house and through the stable yard to the kennels.

‘We just wanted to see what she was like!'

‘That had better have been all it was,' snapped Monty, as he produced Skip from inside his jacket. ‘I hope it was not the kind of devilment you have employed in the past, to rid yourself of every governess who has dared to set foot in your school room.'

‘We never meant—'

‘Oh, didn't you! Well, even if you did not humiliate her on purpose, that is what you have done, with your wilful disregard of the rules. You know you are not supposed to bring animals indoors! You were lucky I heard Skip barking and got to him before father came in,' he growled, stuffing the wriggling bundle of fur firmly into his cage.

‘You ain't…you ain't gonna put Skip in a sack and drown him, are you?'

Monty turned to his woebegone younger brother in surprise. ‘Why in God's name should I do that?'

‘Piers would've,' said the other sulkily, extracting the ferret from his own jacket, then thrusting his pet into his hutch.

‘I am not Piers!' he grated, filled with loathing for the man who would have deliberately inflicted so much pain on two defenceless children. ‘I hope to God I am nothing like him.'

The Earl of Corfe's first born had been spoilt from birth, and grown into a cruel and selfish young man. Every time he had come home from school, Monty had been the butt of his sadistic sense of humour. As, in their turn, had these two.

‘The earl says you ain't,' declared Jeremiah.

‘Says it all the time,' said Tobias.

And Monty could just hear the tone of voice in which his father said it. With a rueful grin, he leaned down and ruffled the boys' hair.

As one, they stepped back, out of his reach. But then Jeremiah glanced at Skip, snuffling happily round his pen, squared his shoulders, and declared, ‘We'll tell her we're sorry.'

‘Yes, we'll make it up to her!'

‘I hope so,' said Monty. ‘Because she is your sister now. And she is here to stay.'

 

Two sombre footmen came to the sitting room, armed with stepladders, to re-hang the curtains.

‘I slipped on the floor boards,' said Midge, red-faced,
as one of them climbed to remount the curtain pole. ‘And grabbed the curtains to prevent myself from falling.'

The two men ex changed meaningful glances as they re-positioned the set of ladders by the chimney breast and care fully began to replace the delicate ornaments in their correct positions.

Knowing she had done all she could to prevent the boys from getting into trouble, Midge re treated to her bedroom to get changed for dinner.

She did not see Monty again until just before it was time to go down stairs. He emerged from the door to his own room, strode across to her and took both her hands in his.

‘Are you angry with me?' he said.

‘Me? Angry with you?'

If anything, she would have thought Monty would have been furious with her for having made such a spectacle of herself.

‘It was imperative I got the dog out of here before father realized what the twins had done,' he explained. ‘When I got down to the kennels and learned their punishment for breaking the rules would have been to see their pets drowned, it made me sure I had done the right thing. But the hell of it was, I did not have time to ensure you were unharmed.'

‘Oh, never mind that!' ex claimed Midge, horrified to think of anything so dreadful happening to that dear little dog. ‘I was not hurt. Only embarrassed.'

He smiled with relief. Then linked his arm with hers, saying, ‘Come on, time to go down and face the music.'

Oh, Lord, she swallowed. However was she going to look her new father-in-law in the face? The last time
he'd seen her, she had been lying on her back on the floor, completely covered with curtains. Apart from her legs, which, she recalled with chagrin, had been waving around in the air.

The earl was sitting on a com fort able chair by a roaring fire, in what was otherwise quite a chilly reception room. He accorded Midge a cool nod of recognition when he saw them enter the room, but did not deign to rise to his feet. At first she was somewhat taken aback by such a lapse of manners, but then she remembered he was reckoned to be some thing of an invalid.

Though as she eyed him more keenly, a frown gathered on her brow. He had a spare frame and a weary look to his eyes, but his fair hair was still abundant and his skin, though pale, not unduly lined. In fact, he did not look in the least ill to her.

Then he turned to Monty, and the temperature in the room dropped by several degrees, the look he accorded his son and heir was so frosty. Monty returned the look with equal
froideur
, took her arm and led her towards an ascetic-looking cleric, who
had
got to his feet.

‘Allow me to present my father's personal chaplain, the Reverend Nor ring ton,' said Monty as the cleric made his bow. ‘And my father's private physician, Dr Cottee.' A rubicund gentleman, who had been taking a glass from a salver held out by one of the footmen, nodded to her affably.

‘Now that you are here, we shall go in,' announced the earl dryly, getting to his feet with a fluidity of movement that was surprising for a man she had been told was an invalid.

The menu gave her pause, though. Every dish that was presented seemed designed to tempt the appetite of an
elderly, sickly man. A delicate, trans parent consommé in which she could just detect the flavour of chicken, was followed by steamed fish and a selection of boiled vegetables, and rounded off with an assortment of milk puddings.

Not that she managed to eat much of anything. She had been a bundle of nerves before even coming down. Now, the coldness of the earl, the haughty demeanour of the footmen and the bland ness of the food completely robbed her of her appetite.

Worse still, nobody talked! Not that she would have dared say anything, had anyone at tempted to strike up a conversation. She was quite sure that if she opened her mouth for any reason, she would only give the earl an even worse impression of her. And her hands were shaking so badly that, when she reached for her wine glass, she decided she had better not attempt to drink anything either. She was bound to spill her wine over the pristine white drapery! She withdrew her hand and tucked it in her lap.

‘We are not used to entertaining females at Shevington,' remarked the earl as he discarded his napkin and signalled for the removal of the cloth.

It took Midge a few seconds to realize that this was the signal for her to go to whatever drawing room was designated for use for the rest of the evening.

But as she got to her feet, he added, ‘You will retire to your own rooms.'

Midge couldn't help herself. She just gaped at him as she realized she was being dismissed! Not that she was not relieved that her ordeal in the earl's company was at an end, but still, it was not pleasant to think he could not tolerate one second more of her company either.

There was a scraping of chairs as the other gentlemen got to their feet, expecting her to meekly quit the field.

‘W-well, good night then,' she stammered, blundering towards the door.

‘I shall come with you,' said Monty, flinging his napkin onto the table. ‘I wish
you
to remain here,' snapped the earl. ‘I have several matters I wish to discuss.'

‘I don't think that would be wise, do you Dr Cottee? Considering the delicate state of my father's digestion.'

The doctor's smile froze as his eyes darted from one implacable aristocrat to the other.

‘Oh, if your father wants you to—' Midge began. Monty grabbed her by the elbow and propelled her towards the door.

‘Silence!' he hissed into her ear. And then, with a cold smile at his father, ‘I assure you, my response to those matters you wish to discuss would be bound to give you indigestion. Far better to talk in the morning.'

‘As you say.' The earl's thin lips twisted into a sneer. ‘Run along after your wife, then, boy.'

Monty marched Midge to their rooms in silence. Only when he had kicked the door shut behind him did he round on her. ‘Do not argue with me in front of my father, ever again!' He spun away from her, running his fingers through his hair.

‘I…I did not mean to. I just thought—'

‘Well, don't think! Just follow my lead. And for God's sake, let me do the fighting in future.'

Midge was sorely tempted to sketch him a salute.
She settled for merely saying, ‘Yes, Major! Any further orders?'

‘Dammit.' He seized her by the shoulders and gave her a little shake. ‘I am trying to defend you, here. Keep you out of trouble! Can't you see that?'

The trouble was, she could. She had not been here five minutes before she had demonstrated how out of place she was. Dinner tonight had con firmed he had not made the wisest of choices in her. His father had obviously been dying to get him alone, and give him a trimming for bringing home a girl who was so gauche and awkward and clumsy. Leave alone being a daughter of scandal.

‘I fear that task is even beyond you, Major Claremont,' she said, her whole body drooping with the realization of how badly she was bound to let him down.

‘No,' he growled. ‘It is not. It must not be.' Some thing like desperation clouded his features before he took her face in his hands and kissed her.

There was some thing about the way he kissed when he was angry that thrilled her to the core.

Her despondency vanished as she poured back all her own hurt and loneliness and wounded pride into the kiss. She clamped her hands behind his head when he would have broken away. For she had been waiting for him to kiss her all day. Ever since he had set her ablaze by merely lifting her out of the coach. And now that she had him exactly where she wanted him, it felt as though, somehow, she had to…beat him at his own game!

His hands swept down her sides, paused to measure the span of her waist, then slid round and down, squeezing her bottom hard.

Midge felt a victorious thrill as he ground his hips
against her stomach, for he was definitely, hugely, aroused.

This time, when he tore his mouth from hers, she let him go. Knew she had been right to do so when he trailed hot wet kisses all the way down her throat. He let go of her bottom, but only so he could push the material of her bodice out of the way of his questing lips.

Not about to be outdone, she yanked his shirt from his breeches and ran her hands up the satiny smooth muscles of his back.

And then totally forgot what point she had been trying to make. She only knew she had to feel his naked skin against hers. And was grateful that for once, they were in complete accord.

They tore away each other's clothes and fell together onto the sofa, their need equally fierce. When Monty plunged into her, she strained up against him with all her might. He groaned. She whimpered. They both clutched at each other as hard as they could.

And in minutes, it was over.

Midge froze. She could not believe they had fallen on each other like wild animals, in the elegance of this formal sitting room!

‘Are you all right?' said Monty, lifting his head from the crook of her neck, and looking down at her with concern.

She was not sure. She was shaking all over. Covered in sweat. And more than a little shocked at herself.

‘That was selfish of me,' said Monty, hastily withdrawing. ‘But I really needed that.'

She had needed it just as much as he had, but something about the guilt in his voice made her doubly certain a lady should never admit it!

‘You look tired,' he observed with a frown as he pulled up his breeches. ‘I shall just go and see if your maid is in your room.' He strode off while he was still speaking. And then returned, his shirt half in and half out of his waist band, scooped her up, and carried her into her bedroom.

After depositing her on the bed, he crossed to the fire place and tugged on the bell pull.

‘She will be up here soon,' he said. ‘I suggest you get her to bring you some thing up to eat. You must be hungry. You hardly ate anything tonight.'

And then, having brushed a perfunctory kiss on her cheek, he strode out of her room, shutting the door firmly behind him. And
then
Midge knew what she felt. Empty and used. Because now he was done with her, he couldn't wait to get away from her. She sat up quickly. It made her feel worse, somehow, to be sprawled limply all over the bed like that while he beat such a hasty retreat.

Especially now she recalled him saying, ‘I needed that.' Not ‘I needed you.' But ‘that.'

She tugged her bodice into a slightly less un comfort able position, loathe for Pansy to find her in such a dishevelled state, and swung her feet down to the floor, all remaining residue of pleasure ebbing away.

She had not placed any great significance on waking alone in her bridal bed that morning. Monty might have had a dozen reasons to have risen early, since they were going on a journey. But he had spent hardly any time with her at all today. And just now, he had shown he could not even bear to lie down with her for a few minutes after getting what he wanted from her.

It was just as well her aunt had warned her what men
could be like during the first weeks of marriage. Or the way he had practically sprinted out of her bedroom, the moment he had disposed of her body neatly back where it belonged, would have
really
hurt her.

She had to remember that though lust was an integral part of a man's nature, it was very far removed from anything like love. Or liking. Or even respect.

She smiled bitterly. A woman could be as bad. She only had to remember the first time he had kissed her. She had thought she hated him. Yet the intimacy he had imposed on her that night had thrilled her to the point where she might almost have thrown caution to the wind.