Chapter Sixteen
THE FUNERAL OF Sir Henry Barrett and Richard Barrett was held three days after Gavin and Ina’s arrival at Oak Park. As was custom, Gavin led the mourners to the gravesite, and the women stayed at home to grieve in private. While he was glad for a reprieve from his mother’s disapproving gaze and Grace’s drawn smiles, he wished Ina could have stood with him.
If he’d asked her, she would have joined him, but he doubted she wished to incur his mother’s wrath any more than he did. He tried his best to stay by his wife’s side and protect her from some of his mother’s judgment, but it was impossible to be with her at all times.
It was on their fifth day at the house that Gavin found himself in the study, which still felt very much his father’s, staring at a list of accounts that Chase had handed him. The estate agent was sitting in a chair across the vast wood desk, waiting patiently for his decision on whether to authorize repairs to two tenant cottages that had fallen into disrepair after standing unoccupied for three years.
“Why is it that my father decided against letting them?” he asked, rubbing his brow to try to alleviate a headache.
“He was debating whether or not to send workers to dig down past the topsoil to see if there was any hint of coal in that plot of land. There was a vein found ten miles from Ashington, but there’s no guarantee what such a gamble would produce.”
“And what do you think?” Gavin asked.
The quiet, capable man thought a moment. “I believe your father was right to be cautious. Viscount Mears destroyed a good deal of his farmable land searching for such mines last season, and he has nothing to show for it.”
“Where does the viscount’s land lie?” he asked.
“Four miles south of yours.”
His land. His house. His title. His tenants. His estate manager. His servants. Everything was his, and yet nothing felt like it truly belonged to him. It was like he’d stolen into his father’s wardrobe and pulled on his clothes.
Except he could take off clothes. He couldn’t shed a title quite so easily.
His thoughts strayed to Ina as they so often did when he’d rather not be thinking about farming and accounts. She’d transformed in these past five days, he thought with a deep, leaden guilt. Gone was the impulsive, merry woman he’d fallen in love with years ago. In her place sat a woman possessed of an almost regal carriage who was shouldering a burden well beyond what was expected of her. She sat through suppers with his mother, afternoons with Grace, and evenings reading in the drawing room. Caller after caller came to pay their respects, and she accepted their condolences with a murmur of thanks. Still, the woman they all saw was Lady Ina Barrett, wife of Sir Gavin Barrett, not Ina, sculptor and Bohemian, and that worried him.
He needed to conclude his business in Ashington and take them back to Edinburgh as quickly as possible. His mother still hadn’t moved out of her rooms, so each night he stole out of his west wing bedroom and made for Ina’s, slipping into bed next to her, seeking comfort and pleasure. But he knew that staying at Oak Park any longer was likely to damage what had been growing between them. He wouldn’t sacrifice that for the world, but first he had to settle Chase’s endless list of questions and concerns. He needed to ensure that the estate could continue on with only his minimal attention and occasional visits. It was his responsibility just as it had been his father’s and should’ve been his brother’s.
For now, that meant deciding the fate of the dilapidated cottages.
“Are there families in the village who would be willing to work the land and rent the cottages if they were habitable?” he asked.
“I know of at least half a dozen men who wish for land to farm,” Chase said.
“Mining is too much of a risk with no evidence that there’s been coal found in Oak Park. Go forward with the construction.” He paused. “And see if you can arrange for a geological expert to come to the estate. There’s no reason not to explore the possibility of coal if it’s been found in the region, but we won’t gamble on it until we know with more certainty whether it’s there.”
Chase stood. “I’ll see that it’s done.”
“Thank you,” said Gavin.
The estate agent nodded, collected his papers, and left.
As soon as the door was shut, Gavin let his head fall back onto the soft leather of the chair. This wasn’t his world. Give him paper and pen and a ripping good story, and he was happy. Here he felt out of his depth and surrounded by memories he’d rather not relive.
The soft sound of a door brushing against carpet reached his ears, and he opened his eyes. Ina filled the doorway, her hand on the jamb as though uncertain whether or not to enter.
“Hello,” he said, leaning forward in his chair and bringing his hands to the padded armrests.
“I’m just checking on you. You were in here such a long time with Mr. Chase I feared he’d buried you under a stack of accounts.”
He laughed. “Don’t jest. The man is a meticulous bookkeeper and nothing would make him happier than to go over every line of Oak Park’s expenses with me.”
She smiled and closed the door behind her. “How wicked.”
He dropped his head back against the chair again. “He’s a villain of the worst kind.”
He watched her circle his desk until she disappeared behind him. When her hands snaked down his chest and back up again, the tension between his eyes melted a little. She pressed harder, adding her thumbs to trace the lines along either side of his chest muscles, and he groaned deeply.
“You have no idea how good that feels,” he said.
“You’re giving me an inkling. Do you want to tell me what the matter is?”
“I’m lacking twenty years of preparation for administering an estate this size,” he said. He’d never admit it to anyone except Ina, but he felt as though he was drowning, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of the responsibility thrust on him. His world—their world—had changed in an instant and not in a way he would’ve chosen.
“I’m certain you’ll be just fine,” said Ina, her touch soothing him.
He stilled her hands and looked up at her. “How can you be certain?”
Her smile was sweet. “Because you, Gavin Barrett, are the most extraordinary man I know.”
She rounded his chair, her hand skimming a path along his shirt. His breath quickened as she lowered herself into his lap. Her arms looped around his neck, pushing her breasts up closer to his mouth. He sent up a prayer of thanks for the squared neck of her black dress, which exposed a generous portion of her décolletage.
“Sometimes when I’m downstairs in the drawing room, my mind wanders,” she said. “Did you know that?”
“What do you think of?” he asked, intoxicated by her touch.
“You, sitting up here. You’re behind this huge desk commanding an entire estate with the stroke of a pen,” she said.
“I don’t feel particularly commanding when I’m doing it.”
But he felt commanding right now, with her sweet backside grinding against his cock, which was already straining against the confines of his trousers. In an instant, this afternoon had gone from tedious to sensual.
She clucked her tongue. “Trust your wife. I see the respect Mr. Chase treats you with.”
“That’s owing to my title,” he protested.
She raised her brows. “That’s owing to you. You don’t understand how people see you, Gavin. You walk into a room and people notice. You have presence. Your opinion is valued and sought after. You’re respected.”
Delicately she pushed back a lock of hair he hadn’t realized had fallen over his forehead. He shivered when her nail brushed his skin.
“And you have no idea how women look at you,” she continued.
He cocked an eyebrow. “This I want to hear.”
She chuckled. “I’m sure you do, but I’m not certain I should tell you.”
“Worried it might puff me up?” he asked, sliding his hands around and up her back.
“Let’s just say that I suspect there were more than a few very jealous women the day we wed.”
He shook his head. “Of you wedding a second son with almost no income? I don’t think so.”
She bent her head as though to kiss him but stopped a fraction of an inch away from his lips, and whispered, “Of me wedding a handsome man with a kind heart and brilliant mind who takes delight in the world. I couldn’t ask for a better husband.”
Her words wrung him out, squeezing the last bit of breath from him. He’d tried to resist her and guard himself so he’d never have to feel the pain he’d once endured again, but she was his siren song. He couldn’t escape her allure, especially when she didn’t even realize how taken in he was.
“You make me believe I can be a better man,” he murmured against her lips.
Her nails scraped gently at his scalp where they played with his hair. Another shiver wracked his body and she leaned in so close her lips brushed his ear. “Then show me how to be the woman you need.”
The urge to command her crashed over him, and he turned his mouth, kissing her. His hand went to the back of her head, cradling her so that he could kiss her deeper, pressing his tongue into her mouth. He wanted her to taste only him. To feel only him touching her. To smell only the salt of his sweat. To hear only the erotic mingling of her pants and his grunts as he claimed her right here. On this desk.
Ina ground her hips into him as she shifted in his lap, trying to turn fully into him. No. This was his time to show her exactly what he wanted. Her pleasure was tantamount in his mind, but it would come on his terms.
He locked his arms around her, holding her so she could hardly move, and broke their kiss. She was panting hard, and her eyes were wild. Good. He wanted her ready and yearning and frustrated—just as he so often was. She’d feel what it was to be him before she came apart in his arms, his to hold and cherish.
“We’re going to play a game,” he said, his voice a growl thick with arousal. “I get to touch you, but you don’t get to touch me.”
“What sort of a game is that?” she asked.
A wicked grin spread over his face. “One you’ll enjoy.”
Warmth flooded her eyes. “Then let’s play.”
His mouth found the rise of her collarbone and nipped. She gasped.
“What does it feel like?” he asked.
“A sting of pain but then it spreads and feels good.”
He grunted his approval and put his lips to the spot, sucking on the sensitive skin. His tongue licked over the area once, soothing the love bite. Then he slid his mouth up the side of her neck to her earlobe and caught up the flesh of it between his teeth.
Ina squirmed, rubbing back and forth over the placket of his trousers. If she hadn’t known he was hard for her before, she knew now. His balls ached for release, but he wasn’t going to hurry this. He wanted her to feel every bit of pleasure he could pull out of her body. He wanted her begging for his cock and crying out his name as she reached for her release.
With both hands on her waist as he kissed her, he lifted her and set her down on her feet. Then he spun her so they were pressed against each other, her back to his front.
“Put your hands on the desk,” he said.
She dutifully placed both hands firmly on the wood desk, careful not to send his papers into disarray. But Gavin didn’t want her careful. He wanted her wanton and wild, and he was determined to get her that way.
His hands cupped her breasts through the fabric of her bodice. He could feel the steel bands of her corset, and he stroked his fingers down them to test the slope of her.
“You could take it all off of me,” she said. “Right here.”
He moaned and pushed his hips against her. “As tempting a thought as that is, I have other plans for you. Ones that don’t require any undressing at all.”
She cast him a look over her shoulder, but his hands were already opening the front of his trousers and pulling out his cock.
“I want you bent over this desk so that it’s the only thing I can think of the next time Chase sits in that chair right there and tries to make me care about crop rotation and irrigation.”
“Won’t that be distracting?” she asked.
He pumped his hand along his rock-hard shaft, preparing himself for her. “In the very best way. Now stay still.”
Letting go of his cock, he bent to grab the hem of her skirts and draw them up. The steel loops of her crinoline collapsed against themselves, flattening out under the fabric when he hitched the whole dress up over her hips, giving him an exquisite view of her round ass.
“You aren’t wearing drawers,” he said, his mouth dry with desire.
“I’ve decided they’re an encumbrance, so I took them off before I came to your study,” she said.
He stroked a hand over her. “You little vixen. You were planning to seduce me all along.”
“You aren’t the only one feeling the effects of our stay,” she said, her hips pushing back into his hand as he skirted close to the V of her legs.
The guilt was back. He knew she was missing home, and she hadn’t voiced a single complaint. He’d taken her away from her art, her friends, and her city and asked her to shoulder the burden of becoming a baronet’s wife overnight. It wasn’t fair, but he’d make it up to her. He just needed more time.
“Have I ever told you how attractive I find your practicality?” he asked, slipping his hand between her warm folds.
Her legs spread a little farther apart, welcoming his fingers, which stroked teasingly over the spot that gave her the most pleasure.
“I’ll have to remember not to wear my full complement of undergarments when we return home,” she said. “It’ll scandalize Ruth, of course.”
“And make me a very happy man.”
He slipped one finger inside her and her muscles clenched around him.
God, he needed her. He positioned himself right against her entrance and planted his other hand midway along her back, pushing her over the edge of the desk.
“You’ll tell me if this hurts you,” he said.
“Yes,” she said, palms still flat on the desk.
His breath stirred the hairs on the back of her neck as he leaned close to whisper in her ear, “Good.”
He plunged into her in one long stroke, ripping a surprised cry from her lips. He thought to stop, but then Ina reared up and hooked her hand behind his neck to draw him closer, deeper.
Bent over her, his hand pressing her back down against the desk, he drew his hips back until he’d nearly pulled out of her and thrust again. The flesh of his hips hit the softness of her tilted ass, and she whimpered.
“Gavin, please.”
“Tell me what you want,” he said.
She twisted and her burning eyes locked on his. “All of you. Harder. Deeper.”
Groaning in relief because that was exactly what he wanted too, he thrust again and again. Each time he felt her muscles spasm around him as she fully sheathed him. This was hard and fast. Pure need and desire.
For his wife. His.
The fierceness of his climax began to gather in him, and he felt his balls tighten. He was close, but he wanted Ina there with him. He reached around her hip and rolled her clit between his thumb and forefinger over and over with the rhythm of his thrusts, silently willing her to break for him.
All at once, Ina cried out, grasping for a hold on the unforgiving desk. He slammed into her, wringing moans from her as she went wild beneath him.
And then he was there. All of the pleasure building in him concentrated into a point and exploded. He sagged forward, scooping an arm beneath her to pull her up against him as he pumped into her. He buried his face in her neck, his teeth gently biting a tendon in her neck as he tried to stifle the shout that threatened to let loose. Then he pulled out and spilled himself on her exposed back.
When his hips slowed and he was spent, he pulled out a handkerchief and wiped Ina clean. Then he wrapped both arms around her and rested his head against her back. They stayed there for a moment because he couldn’t stand the thought of letting her go. Despite the steps they’d taken in this marriage, he still half expected her to rear back from him one day, deciding all of a sudden that this wasn’t what she wanted. If she did that, he’d crumble.