Chapter Seventeen
They ascended the stairs with unseemly haste. The moment the door closed behind them, Grace’s mouth was overwhelmed by Everett’s on hers, demanding and hot. Bringing her hands up, she plunged them into his hair, holding him down to her. She wanted him. Wanted all of him and had no idea what that really meant, only that there was a desperate want and a twitch of burgeoning pleasure low in her that needed satisfaction.
She didn’t let him go when he tried to pull away.
“The bed. Our clothes. For this first time, we should do it right.” His lips were still against hers.
Do it right. Nervousness tainted her arousal and she loosened her hold on his hair.
He took a step back and reached up to take her hands in his. “Lead the way.”
She glanced over at the enormous bed and the height of Everett towering next to her. She was small and inexperienced, wanting something desperately without any idea of how to lead them to it. The words spilled out of her, even as her feet wouldn’t move. “I don’t know what to do.”
Everett laughed. “That’s never stopped you before.”
Her heart seemed to vibrate. “That was different. I was just copying you. I don’t know how to… You know. I’ve never done this, not the whole of it. How can I lead when I don’t know where we’re going?”
Pulling her toward the bed, he murmured, “But you do know. You have had someone talk to you about it, or seen animals mate, or something?”
That was a ridiculous statement and not at all to the point. She held herself a bit aloof from him. “Did you just compare yourself to an animal?”
“Absolutely.” His eyes sparkled. “I practically am. A man’s brain shrinks in inverse proportion to how his member engorges. But in all seriousness, you are aware of the joining of a male and a female?”
Join had just become yet another word that she couldn’t hear from his lips and not feel a streak of want. She nodded and looked away from his eyes to the looming dark furniture of the room. In between the smell of him, there was an aroma of beeswax polish and efficiency.
“That is hardly the same thing, though. People talk of being a skilled lover and knowing techniques to drive a man wild with desire.”
He took her hand and pressed it between his legs. Beneath her fingers, there was strength and heat in his rigid member.
“What do you think this is, if not ‘wild with desire’?”
She looked at the hard and needy bulge under the fine lawn of his trousers and her small hand over it. “Turgid.”
His face relaxed into a grin. “Prose can be turgid, Grace. My cock, though, is wild with desire.”
“First, you say that you are an animal. Then you make allusions to untamed poultry.” Her heart was fluttering, and she grasped at control with another terrible joke.
“You are incredibly beautiful, you know that?” Everett didn’t laugh. With leisurely ease, he looked her up and down, then grasped her hand in his and brought it up to his mouth. “And I want you.”
His breath was silk on her palms and the compliment was salve on her nerves. She reached up and undid the top button of his shirt, revealing his neck. She traced the elegant line of his collarbones, then moved down to the next button, then the next, stroking each new section of his chest that she exposed. At his waistband, she pulled out the tails. She wanted to run her fingers over the familiar muscles of his abdomen, push the fabric off his shoulders, and start to undo the buttons on his trousers. But Everett covered her hands with his, taking them in his and turning her. He kissed under her ear as he undid the buttons up the back of her dress, peeling it open. She yanked at the ties of her skirts, then let them fall to the ground.
When they were both naked, he lifted her onto the bed with him so that he sat against the pillows, and she was sitting, straddled on his lap. There seemed to be more blood in her, pumping around to every part of her and making her excruciatingly sensitive to every touch of his skin against hers.
Her legs were shockingly open over his, his chest bare almost against hers. He braced one arm around her back, and she was wonderfully held in place on him. Between them, there was the head of his erection, a hard touch between her legs where she was hot and slippery.
He lowered his head to her breast, laving it with his tongue, the sensation going through her whole body. She squirmed at the intensity, and he wrapped his arms around her waist and held her in place. As he nipped and kissed her breasts, his cock rubbed on her soaked quim and she arched herself closer, the pleasure seemingly coming from all sides.
“Shouldn’t we…?” This was delicious, but they’d done the same many times. They ought to be consummating their marriage. They ought to be…fucking. That’s what he’d called it. “Don’t you want to…?” She couldn’t say the word out loud.
“Yes.” He tightened one arm around her waist and the other caressed her side, slipping down to her thigh and then around to the slit between her legs. “But first things first, love.”
Her hands were still in his silken hair, but when he thrust his fingers into her, she arched, and seeking a firmer hold as he buffeted her with strokes over her quim, she held onto him. His fingers slid over her again and again while he kept up the erotic assault on her nipples. The spiral was familiar now and always different. He didn’t tease her this time, as he sometimes did, moving on and off the center of her pleasure. He looped over the spot with his finger, giving her only the tiniest pause between the pulses. Her skin was on his, they were naked, and there was nothing in the world beyond his hands and his mouth. She was so close, her breath coming out in panting gasps.
Everett took his hand away from the bud at her core and she moaned in protest.
“I know, I know.” He lifted her up on him with one arm so she, kneeling, was half supporting herself, at least as much as being held by him. “But it’s up to you now, darling.”
They were consummating their marriage. She’d practically forgotten in the torrent of his pleasuring her. Leaning back, she saw his face, fuzzy through her lust-filled eyes, and he swallowed. He was holding his own need in check. Perhaps his cock was wild, after all, and he had to strain to control it. With him kissing her neck, she was sidetracked from the throbbing between her legs for a second.
“I’m here for your taking.” He moved beneath her so the head of his male part was positioned at her entrance, waiting for her. His gaze was steady, but there was a shake in his hand that she could feel, even as he held her tight.
He was holding his cock in place or, a fanciful thought caught at her, restraining it. But then, the ache between her legs was crying out for him, and suddenly it wasn’t an action to lower herself. It would have been an act of denial not to. She sank until he was firm against her. Breathing in, embracing the feel of his hands on her and the closeness of their touch, she stretched herself onto him. She wanted this. Not just because of his shaky exhale as he barely contained himself for her. For the throbbing of want, despite the uncomfortable tightness. But there was the solid resistance of his member against her, feeling as though she could never envelop it.
“Yes. That’s it.” His muscles were tense with control.
She looked into Everett’s lust filled eyes. But they were soft with love, too. He’d said so and that confession had filled her heart and changed everything. The promise she’d made herself not to make love with him until their bargain was over slipped through her mind like a breeze flickering a candle. But the candle remained lit. There were risks and bargains and potentially a pregnancy at stake here, but none of that mattered when she was looking into his eyes. He loved her, and they would sort out all of those things after the six weeks, and in the interim, she’d give herself over to him.
She sank down onto him. A shock went through her and she pulled back up, gasping with the sharpness. From somewhere far away, he groaned and she recognized pleasure. When she paused, he ran his hands down her legs, then up and to her waist, gently holding her. He’d supported her when she’d needed him with Rayner, and now he was patient and soothing even as she was hesitant. She could trust him, she knew that now. And as if that thought eased everything, she slipped lower, back, then lower, until finally she could feel his body against her breasts and belly. The length of his member was thick inside of her. His rough jaw scraped across her cheek, then his mouth was on hers, his tongue against hers, teasing and stroking.
He withdrew slightly beneath her, a smooth friction moving inside her. His hands braced over her hips, he moved her up and down in time with the nudge of his tongue in her mouth. It was good. Really—
Oh. Her nipples were rubbing against the coarse hair on his chest, causing thrills that went all the way through her to where they joined. She engaged her thighs to drive down onto him, to increase the sensation at her most sensitive point. They were moving together, the smack of him against her, all the way in and nearly out, almost pushing her into the abyss.
Her chest was heaving with exertion. She hadn’t known arousal was physical like this.
“More.” His hands suited his words, moving her hips downward even as he thrust up into her.
Yes. Yes, she sped up, pushing the tip of his cock deep into her again and again. He was hard and beautiful. At the edge of her pleasure there was a line of pain, but she ignored it.
He must have known. His right hand continued to dig into her hip, moving with her, while the other slipped between them. He found that place again, stroking and circling while his erection pushed her higher into sensation with every movement. It built, like before but broader, a floodplain instead of a valley stream. When she thought she couldn’t bear it, the ecstasy broke out, overpowering her. It swelled over her and she cried out.
Moments later, he stiffened, crushed her to him and groaned. Intermingled with the ebbing of the pleasure, Grace felt satisfaction at the feeling of his hard body pressed against and in hers, as close as two people could be. They were breathing together, in and out in harmony.
She’d read once that a child was created when the blood of the parents combined during their union. Everett was still inside her, so deep it seemed impossible they’d ever be separated again. Was this what it meant for their blood to combine? The possibility of her being with child crept down her back. Waiting would have been more sensible. But she’d do it again, consequences or no, for the feeling of being with him. They were so near to the end of their bargain now, there was nothing to go wrong.
…
“Are you all right?” Everett managed to ask as his heartbeat finally slowed.
“What a graceless sort of question.” Through the bravado, he heard the uncertainty in her voice.
He pulled her closer. “Gracelessness has been my problem all my life.” He could only hope it wouldn’t be in less than a week.
He was rewarded with the feel of her back moving with a laugh. She had no idea how true it was.
“Is that what the ache in my thighs is? Your Grace?”
“We can call it that.” He hoped this was the beginning of something that would tie them together for life. Arm banded around her waist, he nuzzled the sweet lily fragranced skin of her neck. She was everything, so perfect he wanted to breath her in. He combatted his feelings with humor. “But did you like it? Was it good? Transcendent? Awe inspiring? Superlative?”
“Hmm.” She paused, as if to think. “Mixed.”
He chuckled. That was his wife, never having any time for a man’s pride. “It will be better next time. I am told the first time is a little problematic.”
“I think you have a vested interest. How can I trust you?” she retorted, but her tone was laced with a smile.
She ought not to trust him. He was a cad and a cheat and a liar and he needed her money. He had to persuade her to leave her brother with Lord Rayner so he could pay debts to the family his brother had wronged, the Lawsons. A sister would always want to coddle her brother, though Lord Rayner would lose from any scandal regarding his treatment of Henry. But he was also going to do everything he could to earn and deserve her love.
“Have I not been correct about the things we did before?” He skimmed his hand down her body to rest on the dark curls between her legs. “When I kissed you here? When I stroked your nipples?” Her intake of breath said that she remembered how right he had been. That was as good as an affirmative. Everett grinned as he settled down further into the mattress. “Yes, you will see how awe inspiring making love is.”
After a few minutes, his muscles began to release and sleep slipped up to him. It was nearly upon him when Grace spoke.
“It was so intimate,” she whispered, presumably thinking he was asleep.
He kept his breath even, not wanting to break the spell.
“I felt closer to you than I’ve been to anyone before. The feel of you inside me, it was as though we were truly joining.” She was silent for a moment. “I am a bit sore now. But it was perfect. It was transcendent.”
…
The next few days saw the two of them not as active in their work duties as before, but Everett didn’t care.
“It’s because of the village fete and the charity auction. They took up a great deal of time,” Grace justified to Everett as they walked back from calling on one of the women in the village. They had dismissed the carriage to enjoy the gentle yellow sunshine of the first week of September. “And the weather has been too lovely to spend all day inside with papers.”
“You say that, but you don’t seem to mind being indoors when we are in bed. We have been neglecting our duties”—he leaned over and murmured into her ear—“because I want to fuck you senseless every minute of the day. I cannot get enough of you.”
Her answering smile was almost smug, and he reveled in her appreciation. He’d taught her the meaning, and how to use, all the other illicit words she’d heard and many others her sheltered upbringing and his time in the army meant that he knew and she’d never heard. He loved hearing the forbidden words on her lips. He liked it even more when she enacted them.
Reminding her of their nights was his favorite way to distract her, and himself, other than actually taking her to bed. Since that first time when they’d retired to bed in the afternoon, they’d spent long nights together, her eyes intent and hungry, and she was still in his bed in the morning for a sleepy joining to start the day.
He’d thought it would be enough once he could spill into her. All the time he’d held back, telling himself he couldn’t slip into her wet folds until she invited him, he’d thought all he wanted was full congress. It wasn’t enough. He wanted her, body, mind, and heart. Every time he’d found a new thing that pleased or pleasured her, he’d felt her smile pierce deeper into his own heart, even as he told himself it was all just to ensure she was happy. It was fulfilling, engaging her mind and her body. But she still hadn’t said anything of love, and as wonderful as union with her was, he wanted her unbridled affection as well as her unbridled passion.
She could be pregnant from their lovemaking and that thought radiated warmth through his body. He’d requested that bargain with exactly this situation in mind, thinking they’d find passion together and he’d been right. But now he loved her, he wasn’t sure if her staying because of a child would be enough for him. It was just as George had said at the beginning—a man wanted more.
There was the issue of money, too. He needed her honest commitment to stay, and time was running out. The demands for payment of his brother’s debt were becoming insistent. Mr. Lawson sent letters almost daily. Everett furtively wrote back, asking for extra time, or to pay by installments, or anything that would mean Grace would be amenable by the time he was actually forced to ask her to pay the debt. Meanwhile, the Chancery case had slowed, and Grace’s frustration grew proportionally.
“What are you thinking about?” Her face was tilted toward his with an expression of happy curiosity, totally unaware that he needed her money.
“The harvest festival,” he lied. There was no way he was going to confess to worrying that maybe he’d fallen in love and she hadn’t. “It will be a bit hollow this year after many of the farmers have brought in hay that won’t be eaten by the animals.”
“Well, if that’s all, it’s easy.” Her voice was light. “We’ll celebrate other things. I’ll announce the opening of my school for shop work.”
Even a city girl like Grace knew the harvest festival was in over two weeks, at the end of September. His heart expanded, pushing as though it would take over his chest and envelope Grace, too. He looked across at her, their gazes meeting. She was saying that she’d be at the celebration. That she’d still be here, at Larksview, with him.
“That’s perfect.” He squeezed her hand. Except, it wasn’t perfect. Yet.
…
When they arrived back at the house, Everett went to the study and flicked through the morning’s post while Grace changed her gown to something less fancy than the blue silk she’d worn for making calls. He was relieved to find no letter from Mr. Lawson and was content to see a letter from George.
There was no need to worry. No doubt the letter would contain details of his nephew’s latest exploits and the fashionable shows on in London. But just in case, he didn’t think he ought to read it in front of Grace. He opened the envelope and flipped the letter open as he walked to the door of the study, thinking to take a walk around the gardens while he read.
Sarah has asked for a divorce.
He stopped, eyes flicking across the page to understand as quickly as possible.
A divorce.
He wanted to see it was a joke or a mistake. But it wasn’t. George only made a vague allusion to the reason Sarah intended to give: adultery. He could guess with whom George was unfaithful. Military life amongst men gave him some insight into the relationship of his brother and Charles Baysleigh.
George didn’t mention the more serious issue. Everett had read enough of the torrent of divorce proceedings published in the papers after the 1857 Act to remember that whereas a husband only required adultery as grounds for divorce, a wife had to have two grounds. He was certain George wasn’t cruel, hadn’t deserted her, and wasn’t a bigamist. But Charles Baysleigh was enough to indict George as both an adulterer and sodomite.
Under the confusion of George’s letter, there was a scratchy line of pain. Everett had been abroad when George had married. His letters had talked of duty and dowry, but also affection for his chosen bride. She is witty, knowing, and beautiful, George had said.
When Everett had met her, much of that seemed to have been eroded away to a stiff combination of attractive features. George had promised at the time that he loved his wife, and Everett’s careful questions about what he might miss when he was married had been met with assurances.
George’s letter said he had plan to win Sarah back, but that didn’t comfort Everett. The consequences of failure were too dire—if Sarah got her divorce, she might also get George hung.
His brother’s dark humor that the Hetherington name couldn’t get much worse left Everett even more discomfited. His fingers involuntarily creased the paper as he read the stories about Grace that his brother conveyed. Seller of false goods, woman of ill repute, whore, likely spread by that little coward, Rayner. They were ugly words that made him shake with the desire to defend her against any slight, imagined or real.
George also asked after his own marriage, asking whether the seduction was going well and whether his “quite pretty” wife was enough to satisfy him. Quite enough, he wanted to answer, knowing his brother would recognize the understatement.
The lies had seemed so small at first and now looked mountainous. How was he to tell Grace about this?
Part of him wanted to give up the pretense. But there was no way to pay the debt other than the dowry any more than there had been when they’d agreed to their marriage. He was too far into this scheme now, though he would have to tell her eventually. Perhaps when she declared her love, freely, willingly, then maybe she would be caught up enough to accept this. There were just days left in their bargain. When she was staying, out of her own volition, and confessed her love, he’d know she was ready. She couldn’t give herself to him so utterly when they made love and not remain with him. When she’d made that commitment, he’d explain about Peter’s debt.
Everett stuffed the letter into the middle of a stack of unanswered correspondence on his desk. It took him several minutes to slow his heart rate and compose his features into a benign smile. Thankfully, he managed before Grace was finished with her toilette.
“Anything interesting in the post?” she asked as she entered the study.
“No.” How could he lie to the woman he loved? “Nothing out of the ordinary.”
Throughout the afternoon, Grace kept sneaking looks at him, concern in her lash-shadowed eyes. The worst thing was he desperately wanted to ask for her advice. She had read so much about the law in her fight to get Henry back, she could know something pertinent to George’s case. He couldn’t let her see the letter, however, and if he told her, her brilliantly precise mind would want to read George’s exact words. The rumors repeated in the letter were bad, his brother’s affair was worse, but she absolutely couldn’t know about the debt. Not until he was sure she wouldn’t leave.
While Grace changed for dinner, he wrote his stream of concern and encouragement into a letter to George, his handwriting large and hurried. He wanted to go to London and shake George until he found a way to resolve this. Or Sarah. Or George’s lover, Charles. More than anything, he wanted to hug his brother and reassure him it was going to be all right. Even though he wasn’t sure it would. But his mind wouldn’t cooperate and find any reason that Grace might find credible to visit London.
When evening finally came, he took Grace to bed and poured out all the agony and guilt in his soul into sensual lovemaking that brought her to pleasure time after time, before he too peaked. When she fell asleep, her hair silky over his arm and her cheek on his chest, he stared at the dark canopy of the bed. He prayed he’d done enough.