Chapter 20

CHAPTER20

Jacob couldn’t stop himself. His mind was muddled, the liquor impairing his thoughts, so that when Emily kissed him, all he could think of doing was kissing her back.

He pressed her backward, stumbling with her somewhere, though he did not care to look where they ended up. All he registered was grabbing the edge of the door en route and slamming it shut, to make sure none of his staff would come in to disturb them.

Raising his hands, he buried one in Emily’s blonde hair, tilting her head back to get as much access to her as possible. He delved deep, dominating the kiss, but what aroused him even more was the way Emily responded, clawing at him, and matching each stroke of his tongue with her own.

It was intoxicating, not just the taste of her, but every touch she gave. One of her hands trembled on the edge of his waistcoat, and the other raised up and took the side of his face, pulling him down toward her in the most intense way.

They stumbled to the side of the room where they collided with a sideboard, the vase on top shaking and shuddering at their movements. Jacob pressed Emily toward it, brushing his hips against hers. She responded instantly, gasping into his kiss.

I should stop. I know I should. If I make love to Emily and get her with a child, what then? She and the child would be left to grieve me!

He couldn’t do it. Yet these logical thoughts were downed by the liquor and his desire for Emily.

Grasping her waist, he lifted her onto the sideboard, so that they gazed directly into one another’s eyes. Taking her legs, he spread them wide so that they brushed the sides of his hips, opening her to him. He brushed their cores together, distracted as she gasped into their kiss, clearly feeling his length that had hardened for her.

He moved his hands, both reaching for her waist with his fingers splaying across the narrowness there. Tugging her right to the edge of the sideboard, he moved their bodies together. That friction was so great she murmured once more into their kiss.

Don’t stop…

His thoughts changed, in such a way that he could not control them anymore.

Moving his kisses to her neck, he kissed down her body, toward the open neckline of her gown. Peppering those kisses across the top curve of her breasts, he nipped her playfully, listening to the gasping moans that escaped Emily’s lips as she tipped her head back and indulged in his touch.

“Jacob, please,” she begged. “Do not stop.”

Jacob slowed his kisses. Nestling his lips to the valley between her breasts, he kissed her once more time, feeling her hips grind against his.

How easy it would be to take something of her right now in this room, to show her the pleasure they had glimpsed together once more. It would be so simple, so passionate. If he could manage the walk to his chamber in his drunken state, then he could take her completely.

Images filled his mind of the passionate positions he and Emily would end up in. He pictured first taking her on her back, with her legs raised up around his waist as he buried himself deep within her. Then the image changed. He imagined making her stand off the bed, with her hands on the covers, as he entered her from behind. He’d grip to her waist as he drove the two of them together, watching as she pushed her head into the covers, trying to muffle those moans.

“Jacob,” she pleaded with him again. “Do not stop.”

He broke off. Moving his hands to the sideboard either side of her, he lifted himself off her and looked her in the eye. Her cheeks were a thrilling shade of red, her eyes bright as she panted, doing her best to catch her breath.

Her eyes looked between each of his own, clearly trying to focus on something. He closed his eyes, blocking out the tempting view of her.

“You’re stopping anyway, are you not?”

“Yes.” He released her and stepped back, opening his eyes once more, he looked at her as she slowly clambered down off the sideboard.

“I do not understand you,” she murmured, her voice so husky and low it reminded him of the first night when they had met in that dark corridor.

It was always the same with that deep husky tone. He was tempted to take her to bed once again, or maybe not even get that far and just take her on the table right now.

“You can kiss me in such a way, make it seem as if you wish to be with me completely, then pull back as if you are playing a game of cards that can be so easily ignored?”

“That is not how I would describe you, Emily. Believe me.” He stepped away and reached for the door. “Let us leave it at this between us. The reason I am putting distance between us is good. You have to trust me on that.” He opened the door, intent to step out when her next words made him freeze on the spot.

“Strange, for you have just made me realize something.”

He glanced back, eager to hear what she had to say next. Slowly, she walked toward her seat at the table and sat down, reaching for her own wine glass and taking a large gulp before she continued. The way she sat back in that chair was tempting to him again, with her hair ruffled, her face flushed, and the sleeves of her gown disarrayed. She didn’t bother to set them straight.

“What is that?” he asked, urging her on.

“That I do not trust you at all.”

This realization was like a kick in the gut to him. He stepped out of the door, telling himself it was good if she disliked him, yet he did not feel good about it. He only felt worse.

* * *

The sunlight filtered through the window, falling on Emily’s face and waking her much earlier than she would have liked. She wriggled in the bed, exhausted, yawning as she turned on the covers and rolled over.

As her eyes opened, they fell on the closed door that adjoined her new chamber to her husband’s. She supposed the staff thought they were doing the right thing when they put her in this chamber, but that door had remained firmly locked overnight. Judging by the way Emily had pulled on her side of the door, Jacob had bolted it too.

“He didn’t come,” Emily whispered as she slowly pushed herself up in the middle of the bed and looked around the room.

Despite Jacob’s words the day before, the heated kiss, then him practically running from her, there had been this hope that he would come to her during the night, so they could have their wedding night together. Yet her wishes were not answered. The bed remained cold with only her in it, just as that door remained closed.

Slowly, Emily pulled herself out of bed, looking around the fine chamber and trying to distract herself by admiring its interior. The lustrous golden furniture was upholstered with damask cushions, and the chairs and settees on one side of the chamber appeared comfortable and inviting. The bed where she’d laid her head all night had matching curtains around the four posts, the large bed far too large for her to sleep alone.

Emily reached for the long cord at the side of the room to ring the bell for her lady’s maid quarters, deep within the house.

She changed with the maid’s help when she arrived, though the conversation was brief and stilted between the two of them. Whenever the maid tried to enquire if Emily was well, Emily would try to push the matter away as quickly as possible. Once Emily was changed, she hovered by the door, preparing to go down for breakfast as the maid reached for the bed.

“I shall change your covers, Your Grace,” the maid said with ease.

“Change them? So soon?” Emily murmured in surprise.

“Of course, it is traditional after the wedding night.”

“Oh, wait.” Emily stepped forward, but it was too late. The maid swept the top cover to the side and looked around the sheets, then turned round eyes up to Emily. She fidgeted, her hands wringing together. There would be no sign of blood, nothing to suggest that she may have lost her virtue the night before. “It will not be necessary to change the bed, Marianne.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“I’d also be grateful if you kept this to yourself.”

Marianne offered a gentle and reassuring smile.

“Of course. I would not betray a secret.”

“You are kind.” Emily forced a smile and left the chamber, hurrying down the stairs of the house toward the breakfast room. By the time she reached the chamber, her hands were shaking, for she thought much of what the maid had said. Whether Marianne whispered to the other staff about what she had seen did not matter, for it did not change what had not happened the night before.

I cannot believe he didn’t come.

Stepping into the breakfast room, she halted, startled to see it was not empty. At the head of the small table sat Jacob. He had a large cup of coffee in his hands and judging from the shadows under his eyes, he was suffering after drinking too much liquor the night before.

“Good morning,” Emily said, clearing her throat and speaking with false cheer.

“Is it?” Jacob winced and rubbed his temple. “I can scarcely remember last night.”

“You need not fear,” she whispered as she walked past him, hurrying to take her chair beside him. “Nothing happened last night that was worthy of you remembering. We merely argued.”

“I see.” Jacob nodded.

His lack of reaction only made things worse. She reached for the coffee on the table and topped up her cup, then filled her plate high with food, trying to distract herself.

“You did not come,” the whisper fell from her lips eventually. Jacob sighed and sat back in his chair, rubbing his temple once more.

“I remember telling you that I would not come.”

“But Jacob—”

“Emily, there is something I have decided overnight.” His firm voice made her lift her gaze from her coffee cup. She stared at his face, seeing a muscle twitch in his stomach and the way his eyes darted around the room.

“Are you quite well?” she asked.

“Perfectly. It is just the liquor from last night.” He waved away the idea he might be unwell. “I was talking of something I have decided overnight.”

“What is that?” she encouraged him.

“I have a country estate.” He drummed his fingers on the table as he spoke. “It’s a fine house deep within the Wiltshire countryside. Fine rolling hills, a large house, and the gardens, well, they are something to behold.”

“It sounds beautiful.” Emily smiled a little, leaning forward with excitement. Was it possible Jacob was going to suggest they honeymoon at the country estate?

“Yes. I was thinking that one of us should go to the country estate.”

“Wait… one of us?” She nearly dropped her coffee cup and spilled some of the black liquid over her fingers.

“Yes. I think it best.”

She had not the words. She stared numbly back at Jacob, thinking of the way he had kissed her last night and their conversation beforehand.

Despite his denial, perhaps it is time to face the truth. He despises me for I am the woman who has ended up pushing him into marriage. How can I face this?

* * *

“Right, sit down Your Grace. Let’s check how things are.” Doctor Rainer gave a little wave, encouraging Jacob to take a seat in the room.

Jacob shrugged off his tailcoat and sat down in the corner of the doctor’s chambers. Usually, Doctor Rainer was brought to the house for such check-ups, but when Jacob learned his mother had set up yet another doctor’s appointment for him, he did not want Emily to hear of it. He’d sent a message to the doctor late the night before, assuring him that Jacob would come to him instead.

“I’m curious,” Rainer said as he rolled up one of Jacob’s sleeves and took his wrist, checking his pulse. “Why have you come to see me today? I would have happily come to see you.”

“You cannot be made to run around all the time, good doctor,” Jacob said with a forced laugh, trying to turn the matter into a jest. “Sometimes the rest of us should work a little harder.”

Doctor Rainer offered a small smile then fell still as he counted out Jacob’s pulse. The smallest of frowns appeared before he turned away to a table beside them and made hurried notes with a pencil on a clean sheet of paper.

Distracted, Jacob’s eyes darted around the room. Above the table, there were shelves stacked full of bottles and glass vials. Some had labels with tiny spider-like scrawls across the surface, and others were completely blank, filled with colorless liquid.

“How are you sleeping?”

“Ill,” Jacob answered swiftly. “Yet that has more to do with what is going on in my life.”

“In my experience, newly married men usually sleep extraordinarily well.” Doctor Rainer chuckled as he reached for a small listening device attached to a long tube of rubber.

“Well, not I.” Jacob looked away, not wanting to reveal why he was not sleeping, nor why he was not like other married men.

They share their beds with their wives.

He was still haunted by the look Emily had given him the day before when he had suggested that one of them should go to the country estate. He’d alighted on the idea with excitement, determined it could be good for them both. They could lead their different lives and whatever was between them would then not have a chance to grow. It seemed wise, surely? The best way to protect her from forming too close a bond with him.

What he couldn’t make sense of was why his knee bobbed up and down, and he fidgeted each time he resolved that one of them should leave. Something in his mind objected strongly, and he could not push it away harshly enough.

Doctor Rainer listened to Jacob’s heartbeat through the strange device, then he performed other tests, looking into Jacob’s eyes and ears, as well as asking other questions which seemed most strange to Jacob. He asked if Jacob felt dizzy, had blurred vision, or felt lightheaded.

“Well, Your Grace.” When Doctor Rainer finished, he perched on the edge of the table nearby, his tone strangely somber.

“You’re acting differently today, Doctor.” Jacob stiffened in the chair, pausing as he rolled down his shirt sleeves. “Have you found something wrong with me after all?”

“No.” Doctor Rainer shook his head. “Yet there are things we need to keep abreast of. Your eyes, they are both bloodshot. Have you not noticed?”

Jacob stood from his seat and hurried across the room, moving to the nearest mirror latched to the wall. He pressed his face close to the glass to see if it was true—his eyes were indeed bloodshot and not just by a small amount.

“It could just be because you are not sleeping,” Rainer called to him.

“And if it’s not.” Jacob’s spine grew rigid.

“We just need to watch it.”

“If it’s not because of a lack of sleep, Doctor, what else could it be from?” Jacob slowly turned around, finding Doctor Rainer was reluctant to answer. Slowly, the elder doctor shrugged his shoulders.

“Your Grace, there are many possible causes, from small and menial things to greater possibilities.”

Jacob swallowed, finding there was a sudden lump in his throat at this news. He stilled on the spot, not knowing what to do or say.

“My advice is to try and get some more sleep,” Doctor Rainer said with an easy smile. “If you are struggling, there is a laudanum tincture I can give you.”

“No, thank you.” Jacob shook his head, reluctant to take such a thing. He could remember the scent of laudanum all too well. After his father had died and his mother had had one of her nervous fits, it was what the doctors had all relied upon to keep her calm. “I shall be fine without it,” he insisted, trying to force a smile.

“Please, try not to worry,” Doctor Rainer stepped toward him. “For most patients, this is not even something I would even mention. I only mention it because you are usually in such prime health, and I know how you feel about such matters, Your Grace. You would not appreciate it if I kept something hidden from you, would you?”

“You are right.” Jacob nodded and leaned against the wall beside him. “Any other recommendations, Doctor?”

“Sleep. Find a rhythm that suits you and do not stay up too late at night. What time are you falling asleep at the moment?”

Jacob swallowed nervously once more as he finished rolling down his sleeves. The last couple of nights he’d gone to bed well after midnight, for he had been up late thinking of Emily.

“Probably around one or two in the morning.”

“Then you are not even giving your body a chance to sleep. Try, Your Grace. It may help matters and then this will be nothing to worry about. Now, that is all.” Doctor Rainer clapped him on the shoulder and turned away.

Yet Jacob could not settle. He glanced back at the mirror once more, his focus on the whites of his eyes. They were so bloodshot they were a rich shade of deep pink.

What can it mean?