Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

When Amelia strode into the drawing room, she expected to find Kate, Brigid, and Mrs. Smythe ready to make plans for her first ball. Instead, Andrew was the only one awaiting her.

He rose as she entered. “You look lovely, Amelia.”

She blinked rapidly, caught off guard. “What’s happening? I’m supposed to be going through options for our ball with your mother and sister.”

He sauntered over to her and kissed her cheek. “Mother and Kate are quite capable of working on that themselves. You and I are going on a picnic.”

She stiffened, reluctant to be alone with him. “I really shouldn’t leave when they’re relying on me to help.”

“No need to worry about that,” Lady Drake said, sweeping into the room and bringing a waft of lavender-scented air with her. “Kate and I have it all under control.”

“Are you sure?” Perhaps if she pleaded with her eyes, Lady Drake would take pity on her.

Unfortunately, that did not occur. Quite to the contrary, Kate glided in behind Lady Drake with a selection of fabric samples draped over her arm .

“We can manage perfectly well,” Kate assured her. “Mama and I both enjoy this sort of thing. You don’t. Let us do this for you.”

Amelia ground her teeth together. There weren’t many things over which she’d choose to make ball preparations, but spending time with her husband when their last one-on-one conversation had centered around his mistress topped the list.

“Perfect.” Andrew’s palm scalded the small of her back. “Let’s go, then.”

“I’ll need a redingote,” she protested.

“Margaret is waiting with one in the foyer, and a pair of walking shoes too.”

He really had thought of everything. But why? What did he hope to achieve by sweeping her away for a picnic?

She sighed. “I suppose we’d best be off, then.”

She could simply tell him she didn’t want to, but that would be churlish when, as she’d already reminded herself many times, he didn’t deserve it.

He grinned and escorted her back through the door. As he’d said, Margaret was waiting with a redingote folded over her arm and a pair of walking shoes on the floor. Andrew released Amelia, and Margaret helped her into the redingote, then knelt to remove her slippers and slide her feet into the shoes.

When she was ready to depart, Andrew took her arm and led her to the door. “You enjoy riding, don’t you?”

“I do.” Where was this going?

“When we’re in Suffolk, we’ll have to go riding together. Today, I thought we could take my phaeton.”

To her annoyance, a spark of excitement began within her. She did love to travel without being confined within a closed carriage. Carriages served their purpose and provided shelter when needed, but phaetons and curricles were much more enjoyable forms of transportation.

“I haven’t seen your phaeton before,” she said as he held the door open for her. She stepped out and, searching their surroundings for the phaeton, immediately spotted it parked near the bottom of the stairs.

“It doesn’t get out much in autumn and winter,” Andrew said, closing the door and stepping out beside her. “But today is unseasonably warm, and it seemed like Providence.”

Amelia glanced up at the sky. Clouds floated across it, and the sun wasn’t particularly bright, but he was right that the temperatures were unusually mild for this time of year. They walked together to the phaeton, and he offered her his hand to help her up. She sat on the far side, and he climbed up beside her and took the reins.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

If he intended to take her to Hyde Park, they wouldn’t get a moment to themselves, which might be a good thing, in the circumstances.

He waggled his eyebrows. “It’s a surprise.”

Her heart clenched. Why must her husband be so endearing?

It simply wasn’t fair.

Andrew urged the pair of black horses into motion, and Amelia gripped the side of the phaeton as they rolled smoothly out of the courtyard and onto the road. He shot her a look and encouraged the horses to go faster—although not so fast that they would be a danger to anyone around them. Despite herself, she grinned.

She wondered just how fast the phaeton could go. It was sleek and well-made. She could imagine him racing his friends with it when he was younger. She suspected that if he gave the horses free rein, they could go very fast indeed. Perhaps she’d have to ask him to do so when they were in the country.

They swept around corners, the air rushing past her face and stinging her eyes. She laughed and clutched more tightly to the phaeton. No doubt her hair was a mess, but she didn’t care.

The phaeton bounced along a nearly empty road on the edge of Mayfair and turned down a private way. They traveled down the tree-lined drive for several minutes before emerging into the open air.

They were in a garden. Lush trees and shrubbery occupied most of the area, with neatly maintained grass pathways winding between them. There wasn’t a lot of color, but she imagined that during spring and summer, flowers brought stunning bursts of brightness to the garden.

As they came to a stop, she closed her eyes and breathed in. Even though they were still in London, all she could smell was grass and trees. None of the usual city odors.

“It’s beautiful,” she said.

Andrew set his reins aside. “It belongs to a friend of mine. He’s granted us private usage for the day. We’re the only ones here.”

“That’s so generous of him.” Although it did, unfortunately, mean that she wouldn’t have anyone to act as a distraction if Andrew opened a subject she’d rather avoid.

He jumped down and held out his hand. She rose, laid her palm on his, and let him help her down.

“Have a look around,” he said. “I’m going to set the horses loose.”

Her eyebrows rose. “They won’t stray?”

“Not far. They’ve been well trained, and since we’re the only ones here, I don’t believe there’s any reason to worry.”

She stepped off the graveled parking area onto the lawn. It was slightly damp and springy beneath her feet. Gazing around, she wandered down the nearest grass path, looking both ways when she reached an intersection.

She gasped. Down the path to the right, light reflected off the surface of a pond. She hurried along the path, which opened into a clearing on the side of the water. Willow trees fringed the clearing, and several ducks floated on the surface.

“Ah, you found the pond, then.”

She jumped, her hand flying to her chest. Andrew stood behind her, a basket in one hand and a blanket tucked under the other arm.

“You frightened me,” she said. “I didn’t hear you coming.”

“Ah, sorry.” He grimaced. “I did call your name, but you didn’t turn.”

Her cheeks heated. “I was admiring the view and must have been too distracted to notice.”

He gestured at a patch of grass in front of her. “Shall we set up our picnic here?”

She nodded. “Seems as good a place as any.”

He set the basket down, unfolded the picnic blanket, and laid it on the grass. Then he placed the basket in the center of the blanket and lowered himself onto one side of it.

“Join me?”

Carefully, Amelia lowered herself down, too, extending her legs and rearranging her skirts so as not to get them dirty. As he opened the basket and withdrew a flask and two teacups, she tried not to be charmed, but it was impossible.

“This is lovely. Thank you.”

He beamed. “I’m glad you like it.” He positioned the cups on the flattest bits of ground he could find and filled them with tea from the flask. “It’s already sweetened. I had Mrs. Baker add sugar.”

“Thank you.” Her heart squeezed. He really was very thoughtful. Was it any wonder she’d fallen halfway in love with him so easily?

He withdrew something wrapped in a cloth and opened it to reveal several buttered scones. “Would you like one?”

“Yes, please.” She accepted a scone and took a delicate bite from the corner. It was soft and slightly warm.

“Jam?”

She glanced over. Andrew held a small glass jar of berry jam and a spoon. She finished chewing and swallowed.

“What is this about?” she asked.

Something was going on here. She had the same subtle sense of unease she’d had when he was courting her under false pretenses. Her instincts were telling her that something was off-kilter.

Andrew frowned. “What do you mean?”

She waved her half-eaten scone at him. “You’re up to something.”

He looked affronted. “I am not. You deserve to be treated well, and that’s what I’m doing.”

“But it’s not…” Part of our agreement. She couldn’t bring herself to voice the thought.

“Not what?” He cocked his head. “I care about you deeply, Amelia, and I want you to be happy.”

Butterflies danced in her stomach, but at the same time, her heart sank.

She had such a sweet, kind husband. That was something to be grateful for. She was lucky to have him. But God, he made it difficult to resist him.

Perhaps sensing that she didn’t know how to respond, he opened the jam and spooned some of it onto another scone.

“I heard you reading to Kate the other evening,” he said, raising the scone to his mouth.

She took another bite of her own to give herself a moment to think. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” He flashed her a grin. “She deserves to know that women can have dreams of their own. Too many people tell them they can’t. That finding a husband is the most important thing they’ll ever accomplish, and maybe some women are happy with that, but I’m glad you’re showing her that she doesn’t have to be.”

Amelia’s heart expanded. “How are you so incredible?”

When she’d married, she’d expected him to tolerate her writing at best. She’d been fully prepared to face derision, but this unwavering support was more than she could ever have hoped for.

She leaned over the basket and kissed him. He tasted of berries and the outdoors. She closed her eyes and melted as he cupped her face and deepened the kiss.

She dropped her scone. Where, she wasn’t quite sure. Andrew tossed his toward the pond, and the birds flocked around it. Then he heaved her over the basket and onto his lap. She tilted her head back, and her tongue met his. Breath eased between her lips.

His fingers tangled in her hair, and he tugged, angling her head to give him better access to her mouth. She clutched his chest, reveling in the strength concealed by his coat and shirtsleeves. They continued to kiss, slow and languid, almost drugging.

He broke free. “Wait.”

“What is it?” she asked breathlessly.

He nuzzled the side of her neck. “I don’t expect anything from you just because I brought you out on a picnic. You don’t have to do this to make things even between us. I know how you think.”

She snorted. Perhaps he knew a little of how she thought, but clearly not enough if he believed she was going along with this for his benefit. In truth, she had no hope of resisting him and had simply given up trying.

“I want to,” she told him.

Kissing like this, in broad daylight in the outdoors, gave her a strange kind of thrill. It was the sort of behavior she’d expect from a mistress, not a wife, and perhaps she wanted to give Miss Giles a little healthy competition.

She and Andrew may not have agreed to be faithful as part of their contract, but now that she knew exactly how much he meant to her, she wouldn’t let him go without a fight. She may not have experience or beauty on her side, but she had all the time in the world to win him over. Miss Giles, on the other hand, did not.

“Really?” One side of his mouth hitched up, his expression turning wicked. “You aren’t worried about being out in the open?”

“You said we’re alone here.” She kissed him. “I know you’ll take care of me.”

“Damn right I will.” He peppered her face with kisses. “No one gets to see your gorgeous body except for me.”

Heat rushed to her core. Surely his possessiveness was a good sign.

“Lie back,” he murmured against her skin. “Let me make you feel nice.”

She stiffened. “No.”

“No?” He drew back, frowning. “Sorry, did I misunderstand—”

“No.” Her cheeks were absolutely blazing now. “I want you to lie down. There’s something I’ve been wanting to try.”

“Oh.” He sounded intrigued, but he lay back on the blanket without any fuss.

She crawled over him and sat back on her haunches. There was absolutely no way to do this without making at least a bit of a mess. She shifted the basket aside and cleared their teacups out of the way, then gazed down at him.

He smiled lazily up at her. “I’m at your mercy, my lady.”

“I like the sound of that.” If he was at her mercy, then he wouldn’t be anywhere near the smirking Miss Giles.

Unfortunately, the burst of courage that had driven her earlier words was waning. She hesitated, suddenly unsure whether she was about to make a fool of herself.

“What’s wrong?” he murmured.

“Nothing. I’m just….” She sighed, exasperated with herself. “I’m nervous. What if you don’t like it?”

He chuckled. “I assure you that I will like almost anything you do to me, and if I don’t, I’ll tell you so. ”

She nibbled on her lower lip. “Promise?”

He crossed his heart. “I give my solemn oath.”

“All right.” She could do this. She hadn’t lied about wanting to try. Ever since the first time Andrew had placed his mouth on her there, she’d been curious whether he would enjoy it if she did the same to him.

She undid his breeches, fumbling with the laces as her hands trembled.

Andrew’s thumb and forefinger encircled her wrist gently. “Easy, sweetheart. Breathe. I promise you, you have absolutely nothing to worry about.”

She exhaled, long and slow, and something inside her eased. He was right. If she fumbled this time, she could just do better next time. They had their entire lives ahead of them.

She tugged at the waistband of his breeches, and he lifted his hips so she could pull them down. His drawers followed. She left them around his knees and lowered herself onto her front beside his legs. She propped herself up with one hand and wrapped the other around his cock.

Her breath hitched. He was already hard, but he stiffened further in her grip, pulsing against her palm like molten steel. She pumped him a few times and spread the liquid that leaked from the head of his cock with her thumb. He groaned, and his hips twitched.

Smiling to herself, she repeated the motion. She’d played with him like this before, although she’d never tried to make him spill his seed. After all, if he wanted an heir, it was best off inside her. She doubted mistresses ever thought about anything as practical as that, though.

Quite the opposite.

Slowly, she lowered her head and licked the end of his cock. A salty, musky flavor filled her mouth. She wouldn’t call it delicious, but it wasn’t unpleasant either. She licked him again, her tongue darting over his flesh, there and gone again.

“Lia…”

She stilled, and her eyes rose to his. He’d never called her that before.

“Is that not all right?” he asked.

“I like it.”

The name felt special. Intimate. Similar to what her father called her, but different.

Just for them.

She swirled her tongue around his head and was rewarded with more of the salty-sweet seed. Sealing her lips around him, she sucked.

His hips bucked, and he made a growling noise in the back of his throat that did strange things to her body. She could feel herself becoming damp between her legs. By now, she knew that meant she was readying herself for him.

She spread open-mouthed kisses down the side of his cock, licking and sucking his length.

“Take me in your mouth,” he pleaded.

Her eyebrows pinched together, but she sucked his cock head into her mouth and tried to take him deeper. His cock hit the back of her throat, and she gagged.

“Easy.” He stroked her hair. “Just take a little at a time.”

She blinked rapidly, her eyes watering, and tried again, this time only going a little deeper. She pulled off and repeated the motion, going slightly deeper again. Over and over, she continued, stopping short when she felt herself begin to gag.

Her jaw was starting to ache, but with the sounds of bliss Andrew kept making, she didn’t intend to stop anytime soon.

“Stop.” Andrew tugged gently on her hair, drawing her off him.

“What?” she panted.

“I’m nearly there. ”

“I know.” She didn’t see the problem.

He chuckled, and his head flopped back against the blanket. “I want to be inside you.”

“Oh.” The wet heat between her legs throbbed. “How do we….”

He sat up and shoved his breeches and drawers all the way down. “The ground is too hard, and I don’t want to hurt you, so you’ll have to, uh, straddle me.”

Straddle him?

An intriguing concept.

“But first,” he continued, “let me get you ready.”

She looked down at her hands, her hot cheeks no doubt showing her embarrassment. “I’m pretty sure I’m already ready.”

His eyebrows shot up. “You are?”

With a quick glance around to confirm that they were still alone, Amelia stripped off her underwear and lifted her skirt. Andrew slipped his hand beneath and stroked her softness. She shuddered as pleasure rippled through her.

He teased her with clever fingers. “You’re so wet.”

“You have that effect on me,” she admitted.

His eyes darkened, and he gripped his cock and pointed it skyward. “Good. Now, straddle me and lower yourself onto me.”

Amelia’s face was on fire as she hurried to comply. She placed her knees on either side of his thighs, and she dropped down until his cock pushed against her entrance. She bit her lip and breathed out, doing her best to relax her muscles. Inch by inch, she took him inside her body.

When she sat flush against him, she rested her head on his shoulder and savored the connection. “I didn’t know it could be like this.”

His arms came around her. “It can be however we want, my Lia.” He thrust up, then, with his hands on her hips, guided her to rock back and forth, pleasure zipping through her over and over again. “Just like that. Damn, sweetheart. You make me crazy.”

Yes. I want to make him lose his mind so he never looks at another woman.

She rode him in the way that felt best for her, since he seemed to like it, whatever she did. Pleasure built within her, growing steadily until she couldn’t stand it anymore. She threw her head back and cried out, her channel tightening around him.

He grabbed her hips and pushed up into her, his movements erratic, then stiffened and pulsed deep inside her. She rested her forehead against his, and their lips met in a soft kiss.

He cupped her face and kissed her again. “That was incredible.”

“It really was.”

She eased off him and reached for her undergarments, but he gestured for her to wait. He grabbed the basket and pulled out a cloth, which he dabbed between her legs.

“Mrs. Baker always includes a cleaning-up cloth in picnic baskets,” he told her with a grin. “Although I doubt she intended it to be used this way.”

A laugh burst from her, and she clapped her hand to her mouth, mortified at the thought. “She won’t know, will she?”

He shook his head. “I’ll dispose of it myself.”

“Good.” Obviously, their household staff must be aware of the activities they engaged in, but she’d rather pretend otherwise and have them continue to do the same. She may be willing to act the wanton, but only when it was just her and Andrew alone together.

She pulled up her drawers, and he wiped his cock and tucked himself away inside his own drawers, then buttoned his breeches.

She stretched out on the blanket, savoring the tenderness in her body. “I like picnics. We should have more of them, especially in summer.” She slid her gaze sideways. “And especially if they end like this.”

He chuckled. “Your wish is my command.” He intertwined his fingers with hers, and his expression turned serious. “I am going to do everything I can to ensure your happiness.”

Unease slithered through her.

His words were no doubt intended to be reassuring, but the way he said them made her think he had reason to believe there was a threat to her happiness.

And that meant he was keeping things from her.