Chapter 7
It took Sebastian about five seconds to realize what a bastard he’d been. However, he forced himself to wait a few hours before attempting to tell her so. She needed time and space to breathe, and so did he.
As penance, he did exactly as she’d suggested from the start.
He took the whole damn bed apart, sorted the pieces by size and function, chalked an outline on the floor, and wouldn’t you know. It all fit together as it should.
When he finally went looking for her, she wasn’t in the cottage. He searched through every room, growing increasingly concerned, until he returned to the master bedchamber and happened to look out the window. She was down by the water, walking along the sandy shore.
He picked his way down the winding path to the beach. As she came into view, he paused a moment to recover his breath.
Her lovely profile was to him as she stared out over the ocean. The breeze whipped at her filmy summer frock and toyed with the loose strands of her hair. Before she walked on, she stopped and bent to gather something from the sand, adding it to a collection in her palm.
“Mary!” He jogged down the beach until he reached her side. Once he’d reached her, he searched his brain for the right words. Only three came to mind. “I’m a jackass.”
She ducked her head. “You’re not alone.”
They walked on together.
“What is it you’re collecting?” he asked.
“Cockleshells.” She held them up for him to see. “Couldn’t resist.”
Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow?
With silver bells and cockleshells, and pretty maids all in a row.
Whenever she dug her heels into an argument, Henry had teased her with that rhyme, even long past the age when they should have outgrown it. Sebastian supposed that was what brothers did.
She poked through her little collection with a fingertip. “Perhaps I’ll put them in the garden, with some silver bells and pretty maids all in a row. It would be a nice remembrance, wouldn’t it?”
“I think he’d like that. A chance to tease you from beyond the grave.”
“Henry did have a point. I’ve tried to temper my inclination toward contrariness, but it never seems to work. I’m my father’s daughter, and it’s in my blood. A bit of rousing debate was like a game for us. One we both enjoyed.” She gave him a cautious look. “But I know it’s not that way in everyone’s family.”
It certainly hadn’t been that way in Sebastian’s home. No good-natured arguments between his parents. Only threats and accusations and the sound of china shattering against the wall.
“I’ll try to be more patient,” he said.
“I’ll try not to be right all the time,” she teased. “I suppose this means our first argument as a married couple is out of the way.”
The knot in his chest unraveled. Apologies accomplished, just like that. He’d learned so much from his time spent in the Clayton house. It was in that house he’d learned to be a man.
Henry had taught him what it meant to be a friend.
Mr. Clayton had taught him what it meant to be responsible.
Mary had taught him what it meant to yearn. To sense there was something more beneath the surface of a friendship. To wish he knew how to bring that into the light. To wonder if he could ever deserve it.
She stopped to gather another cockleshell and turned it over between her fingers, inspecting it. Dissatisfied, she cast it away. “Imagine if I’d married Giles. I would have been ‘Mary Perry, quite contrary.’ How dreadful.”
He pulled a face. “Dreadful, indeed. Why did you accept his proposal if you didn’t love him?”
“Considering his political aspirations, I told myself I could do some good as his wife. That was before I realized he was only motivated by ambition. He didn’t truly care about serving the people. I’d have gone mad as his wife, trying to hold my tongue in company and support his bland political positions without expressing my own thoughts. I’m so relieved that I didn’t have to marry him.”
“Are you?”
“Yes. In fact, I’m more than relieved. I’m happy.”
Happy.
The word made Sebastian’s brain spin.
Naturally, he agreed with the assessment that she and Perry would have made a disastrous match. He’d known that from the first. Differences of opinion aside, the man simply wasn’t good enough for her.
But could she truly be happy to have been jilted?
That was too much to believe. In all likelihood, she was merely soothing her own feelings. Telling herself it was for the best, in order to ease the pain.
In time, he’d do his best to make her happy in truth.
“I have something for you.” He reached into his breast pocket, fishing around for his small gift. “I brought it back from the village, but I forgot about it earlier, what with all the—”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Surplus?”
“Exactly.” He smiled a little. “While I was at the smithy with Shadow, I had the blacksmith make this.” He withdrew the tiny circle of polished silver and placed it in her palm. “It’s only temporary. You’ll have something much finer at the first opportunity. But for now, it’s the best I could do.”
She regarded it wordlessly.
Sebastian shifted his weight from one foot to the other. At the smithy, it had seemed a good idea. Now that he saw it resting in her delicate hand, the ring looked crude and paltry. “You don’t have to wear it.”
She clamped her fingers over it, closing the ring in her fist. “Certainly I’m going to wear it. Don’t think I’ll give it back now.”
He exhaled with relief.
She slid the thin, humble band onto her third finger. “It was thoughtful of you to bring it.” She stretched up to kiss his cheek. “Thank you.”
As she pulled back, he wrapped an arm around her, keeping her close. His gaze dropped to her pale-pink lips.
Irresistible.
He kissed her, and she leaned into his embrace. Her frock was wonderfully thin, and her breasts melted against him. He explored her mouth with possessive strokes of his tongue, taking more, and then yet more. She offered everything he asked, and then began to take from him, too. She laced her fingers together at the back of his neck and clung tight, making him her captive.
Love, never set me free.
His hand began to wander of its own accord, sweeping down her spine and over the flare of her hip, coming to settle on the curve of her bottom. He flexed his fingers, claiming a plump handful of flesh and drawing her body to his with a firm, swift motion. His cock grew and stiffened, pulsing against the softness of her belly.
He bent his head and kissed his way down her neck. Her little gasp of pleasure made him swell with triumph.
More. He wanted more.
He stroked her breast through the thin muslin of her frock, palming and kneading her softness. Her nipple tightened. He strummed the sensitive peak, brushing his thumb back and forth in a teasing caress. She moaned faintly, and he covered her mouth with his own, drinking in the sound of her pleasure.
When the kiss ended, he readied an insincere apology.
I was carried away, didn’t mean to press you too far, we’ll go as slowly as you please, et cetera…
But she spoke first.
“Sebastian.” She wet her lips. “Make love to me tonight.”
*
Mary held her breath as she gazed into his eyes.
Sebastian was silent for so long, she began to grow self-conscious. And confused. He’d just explored her body as shamelessly and thoroughly as a Viking plundering a medieval village. How could he be shocked by her request?
He shook his head. “It’s too soon.”
“We’re married. This is our honeymoon,” she said. “Once we leave, you’ll have your business affairs, I’ll be settling into a new home. There seems no better opportunity than now.”
In fact, she worried that this might be the only opportunity. If they didn’t forge a strong connection before leaving Kent, she might be waiting a very long time for another chance.
“It’s only been one day,” he said. “You’re not over your disappointment.”
“I told you, I didn’t love him. Perhaps I ought to be heartsick, but I’m not. I’m relieved.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re ready to leap into bed with me.”
“No doubt it will be awkward the first time. But that’s always going to be the case, no matter how long we wait.” She turned her gaze around the empty beach. “Besides, there’s little else to do for amusement. Unless you’d rather play cards all night.”
He groaned. “Playing cards with you is like trying to hold back the tide—there’s no way to win.”
“Fair enough,” she said. “No cards. Which brings us back to bed.”
He stared into the distance.
“Sebastian, even though I wasn’t expecting to wed you, I’ve always found you attractive.”
In fact, she’d never grasped the strength of that attraction until she realized how her feelings toward Giles paled in comparison. Giles didn’t make her hot all over with just a simple glance. He didn’t even make her lukewarm.
She hesitated. “Of course, I don’t expect you to say you feel similarly about me.”
He caught her chin and tilted her gaze to his. “You,” he said darkly, “make me ache with wanting.”
Oh.
Sweet heavens. She’d known he’d say something kind. He’d compliment her eyes, maybe, or possibly her complexion. Call her pretty, perhaps. But his intense confession of desire had caught her entirely unawares.
She’d gone fishing for a few small compliments, and somehow she’d harpooned a whale.
He took her by the arms. “I know you enjoy arguing, but this is one matter where I will not be moved. We had a rushed wedding, but we’re not going to rush this. I’ve too much pride to make it a hurried, joyless affair. I’m going to learn every inch of your body, and you’re going to learn every inch of mine. And when I know you’re ready…when you’re aching for me every bit as fiercely as I’m aching for you…that’s when I’ll make love to you. Not a moment before.”
Oh, Sebastian. That won’t require nearly so much effort as you think.
Her own body needed no further coaxing. But how was she going to convince him?
“We’d better go back.” He turned them in the direction of the cottage and offered his arm. “Dick and Fanny are preparing us a proper dinner, I’m told. Four courses, to be served in the dining room.”
“Oh, my. I think they’re scrambling to please you so they can remain in your employment.”
“As well they should be.”
As they neared the cottage, they spied a coach coming up the lane.
“It’s here. Thank God.” Sebastian strode toward the house with renewed vigor.
“Whose coach is that?”
“It’s mine. I sent an express from Canterbury, telling my housekeeper I’d be here. I asked her to send the carriage with some of my belongings from Town.”
Mary lingered behind him as he went to greet the coachman. Together, the two men unstrapped a trunk from the back of the carriage. Sebastian carried it inside, undid the latches, and opened it.
“It’s a miracle. I am now in possession of clean shirts, a razor, shaving soap and tooth powder… All the modern necessities of a civilized life.” To her, he added, “And we have a coach and driver. We can go wherever you like. If Ramsgate doesn’t suit you, you may have your choice of destination. Bath. The Wye valley. The Lake district. The Cotswolds. Hell, why not Paris?”
Mary laughed at his last suggestion. Inside, her feelings were conflicted.
She was running out of excuses to stay in this cottage. She loved this place, but she had to admit she would love it better after a few months of repairs and deep cleaning. And to be truthful, she’d always wanted to see the Cotswolds.
But what she wanted more than anything was to prevent Sebastian from pulling away. He’d made it clear that he felt compelled by honor to observe an irrational, indefinite waiting period before they consummated their marriage. And yet he’d confessed to desiring her, just now.
You make me ache with wanting.
A shiver traveled from her scalp to her toes.
Knowing Sebastian as well as she did, Mary could easily guess what self-sacrificing compromise he’d arrived at to ease his conscience. He’d keep his distance from her, in whatever way he could. Sleeping in separate beds. Pursuing different interests. Burying himself in whatever work he could find.
“We can’t leave until after dinner,” she said. “Dick and Fanny will be sorely disappointed, after going to all that work.”
“The horses need to be watered and fed, as well.”
Mary gathered her courage. “You’re now in possession of evening attire. And I have a full trunk of gowns I’ve never had the chance to use. Since Mr. and Mrs. Cross have promised us a formal dinner, why don’t we dress accordingly?”
“If you like.” He scratched his jaw. “I need a bath and a shave, anyway. Shall we say dinner in an hour, then?”
“Perfect.”