The weather had turned the roads to mud and made the traveling difficult and slow. Dusk had fallen before the carriage passed through the tall, wrought-iron gates of Peyton Grove.

“We’re here?” Helen left the comfort of his arm to peer through the window.

“Pity your first glimpse of my home isn’t in daylight,” Jason said, “but you will see it tomorrow.”

“I shall get up very early.”

“I think not,” Jason said with a laugh in his voice.

Helen was glad of the poor light, sure her face was crimson. Fortunately, Mary was intent on gathering together the things she had brought with her.

The carriage lamps cast a small glow as the vehicle trundled along the drive through what appeared to be a large park.

“After this next turn, we shall see the house,” Jason said.

“I can’t wait,” she breathed. Even Mary pressed her nose to the window.

The warm summer air was drenched with sweet perfumes from the garden. The house came into view on a slight rise. Smaller than Walcott and newer than Cherrywood, the cream stone walls of the three-story dwelling were covered in a white flowering creeper, the long windows alight with candles. Golden light spilled from the open front doors onto the columned portico.

The tall, thin butler stepped forward. “Good evening, my lord.”

“Helen, meet Russell, my indispensable butler. He and a few of the staff have come from London to serve us.”

“Welcome, my lady.”

“Thank you, Russell.” Helen liked the look of the man who had a kind face. The first hurdle over, she asked if Mary could be introduced to the staff and then directed upstairs to her bedroom.

Russell bowed. “Certainly, Lady Peyton.”

“We shall dine in an hour, Russell. Please advise Cook.”

Jason took her hand and led her through the house. Drawing her along, her arm tucked in his, they walked from the gallery through the elegant blue drawing room and morning rooms to the dining room. He showed her, with some pride, his study, and the library, and they returned to climb the stairs to the bedrooms.

Jason opened the door to the master suite decorated in gold and royal blue and then led her through a sitting room to her own bedroom, charmingly decorated in lilac and yellow floral wallpaper. He gathered her into his arms.

His gaze was a soft caress. “Do you approve?”

“Of your beautiful home, yes, very much. Of you, very much indeed.”

“It’s your home, too, my sweet bride.” 

At Mary’s knock on the door, he drew away regretfully. “I’ll leave you to change, my love.”

 

***

 

After dinner, they’d strolled in the perfumed, velvety night air until the time came for Helen to wait for him in her bedchamber. While Jason washed and cleaned his teeth, he cautioned himself to tread carefully tonight. He knew how to pleasure a woman and leave her satisfied. But his lovers were always experienced and knew how to take their own pleasure. Although Helen wasn’t technically a virgin, she might just as well be. He doubted she would have had more than a glimpse of an erect male, and never a naked one. And his body was already taut and eager to make love to her.

He must summon patience, to make sure she was comfortable and confident, her passions aroused.

Opening the door, he saw her propped up in bed, a welcoming, yet strained smile on her lips. He sat down on the bed in his dressing gown and raised her hand to his lips. “You look lovely with your hair down. That’s a pretty nightgown.”

She put a hand to her bosom, reminding him that she wore nothing beneath it. “Yes, isn’t it? White lawn and lace are always so…”

He undid buttons that hid her from him, planning to purchase her some nightgowns. Something filmier, less opaque. Red perhaps, Helen would look wonderful in red. Parting the ruffles, he leaned forward and kissed the throbbing pulse at the base of her throat. After her bath, her skin was dewy and warm and petal soft. She smelled of roses.

“I want you so much,” he murmured.

“Shall we snuff out the candles?”

Jason was not about to let her hide from him. They must deal with her past here and now.

“No, my love,” he said gently. He stood and undid the belt on his emerald green and black silk robe. Slipping out of it, he threw it on the bottom of the bed and stood naked before her.

Helen’s gaze roamed appreciatively over him. “You are very decorative, Lord Peyton.”

He laughed, pleased to find she wasn’t coy. He knew she wouldn’t be. But neither did she seem too nervous, and that reassured him.

He pulled back the bedcovers. “Shall we remove this?”

She helped him pull the nightgown over her head then lay back naked. She didn’t try to cover herself, but her eyes looked anxious as he gazed at her.

“I knew you would be beautiful.”

He braced himself on each side of her and leaned down to kiss her. “I’ll be gentle, Helen.”

“I know.”

When he settled half over her, she smiled. “I am so blessed, my darling.” Her fingers tangled in his hair then roamed across his back and down, as if exploring every muscle, bone, and sinew.

He cupped her head, and his mouth sought hers, tasting her and breathing in her aroused womanly fragrance with a gasp of pleasure as passion and a desire to join with her raged through him. He explored her full breasts and thumbed the pert brown nipples and, eliciting an excited gasp, lowered his head to suckle on each one.

His hand slipped down to the heated place between her legs as he explored her body. He ravished her with his mouth, nibbling and licking as she moaned and shuddered until she was panting and ready for him.

Then he slipped between her thighs and gently entered her with a loud groan.

 

***

They made love again during the night, and two hours after the sun rose, she wakened and saw him sleeping beside her, one muscled arm thrown over his head. She leaned close and traced a finger across his strong jaw, the beginnings of a dark beard rasping beneath her touch. How exquisite the lovemaking was. She never expected it could be like this. Jason had been gentle and forceful, lithe, and strong. Under his clever hands and mouth, she was all sensation, her body vibrating, enraptured, the joining of their bodies so profound it brought tears to her eyes. Before sleep claimed them, they had talked about all manner of things, from her love of cooking to his penchant for poetry. Finally, she’d fallen asleep, her body melting with pleasurable exhaustion and a peacefulness she hadn’t known in years.

“I shall be fine after you kiss me.”

“Happy to oblige.”  She giggled as he rolled her over and laid half on top of her. Skin to skin, as things grew heated, there was a knock at the door. Jason cursed and reached for his robe.

Mary entered with a tray of hot chocolate for Helen and coffee for him.

“Please tell your maid not to come until we ring for her,” he said grumpily after she’d left.

Helen laughed. “Daylight is streaming in through the break in the curtains. I’m eager to see more of my beautiful new home. The park and gardens looked extensive.”

“My grandfather planted a thousand trees, cedars, chestnuts, oaks, and pines, as well as some quite rare species. My grandmother created the rose arbor.” Jason took her empty cup from her and put it down on the table. As he gathered her up in his arms, a knock was followed by a shrill barking and scratching at the door. He sighed and called for the footman to enter.

A small terrier ran across the carpet and leaped into Helen’s arms. “Bertie!” She cuddled the excited dog. “Oh, Jason. That was so thoughtful of you. I always worry that he might be pining for me. I can’t thank you enough.”

Jason took the excited dog and dropped him gently to the floor. “I know of an excellent way to thank me.”