Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

J emma stared out of the window as she sat in her bedroom’s window seat. She absentmindedly embroidered, but found she had to pull out twice as many stitches as she kept. The clatter of hooves and wheels brought her back to the present as she peered out her window. Horse and a carriage approached. Ben was easy to spy, since he was at least a furlong ahead of his family. Jemma scrambled off her perch and ran to the door, which she flung open. She hurtled herself down the stairs, her hand gripping the banister after she nearly tumbled headfirst halfway down. The footman barely opened the door in time. She dashed down the steps and flung herself into Ben’s arms as he tossed his reins to a groom. Neither cared who watched, which was both their families and most of her family’s household staff. Their kiss was needy as they clung to each other.

“You can cease devouring my daughter, or there will be nothing left to marry.” Theo said, but only after the young couple finished their kiss. He could recall what it had been like to be apart from Vinita for weeks when the East India Company forced him to travel away from Bikaner. He’d despised every minute, and he still loathed traveling without her. He was a homebody because he resolutely preferred his family’s company to anyone else’s. It had only been two days apart for Ben and Jemma, but he understood the feeling.

After Ben introduced Jemma to his mother and sisters, Steven and Charles greeted Theo, and his family met Vinita, they made their way inside.

“What are you doing here?” Jemma asked as she once more stood in front of Ben. “I didn’t expect to see you until after the holiday.”

“I know. I have a surprise for you.”

“What?” Jemma wanted to bounce on her toes like a little girl. She prayed it was the special license. Ben dug in his pocket and pulled out a folded document. He held it up to her, but he wouldn’t let her have it.

“I need to speak to Jemma for a moment.” Ben didn’t wait for anyone to disagree. He practically pulled her down the path to the garden. It was perishing, so they couldn’t remain outside for long, but he loathed how Grandma Smith stole a precious moment from them. He intended to make it up to Jemma. He reached into his pocket and withdrew something else.

He lowered himself to one knee and took Jemma’s left hand in his. “Jemma, I love you. I have for years. I wish we could capture the years we lost and bring them back. But I wish to spend all the ones in front of us together. Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” She yanked his hand, urging him to stand before she flung herself at him again. Their kiss was fast and hard before Ben opened the box he held and lifted a sparkling emerald ring. He slid it on Jemma’s finger and watched as she twisted her hand to see it from all angles. “This is gorgeous.”

“Like it’s owner. I have the license, sweetling. We could marry tomorrow.”

“On Christmas? Would Father Hope do that?”

“I believe a generous donation to the parish might make him amenable.”

“I’ll ask Papa to send a messenger right now.”

Ben chuckled as she dragged him back to the front door. The others had gone inside, quickly aware of Ben’s intentions. The idea of a Christmas wedding thrilled, so Theo sent Daniel to speak to the parish priest. Ben ensured the young man had a hefty coin pouch, which his soon-to-be brother-in-law didn’t return with.

Dinner was served as soon as the new arrivals were refreshed and presentable. The meal passed with a happy din of chatter and laughter. Jemma and Ben held hands between courses, Jemma’s hand resting on his thigh. They were both exhausted by the time they tumbled into their own beds, but neither fell asleep immediately. It was Jemma’s last night in the chamber she’d had since she left the cradle in her parents' suite. It was the first time Ben would welcome a woman into a bed he claimed as his own. He’d already gained experience before he had known Jemma. But once he’d met her, he’d favored a handful of women away from Bedruthan Steps, Polruan, and Lantic Bay, never wanting word to reach Jemma. He’d made no commitment to her, so he never felt unfaithful. His only guilt came from rarely looking at the women’s faces, so he could imagine he was with Jemma. That would never be an issue again.

Morning came, and they both prepared for the wedding. Ben left with his father and brother, making his way to the church in Lantic Bay. His heart expanded to near bursting when the church doors opened, and Jemma appeared on her father’s arm. Never had he seen a more radiant figure. She’d donned a traditional Indian gown, much like she’d worn the day they met, but far more ornate. Her raven tresses hung over her shoulder, and he recalled how they reminded him of silk whenever he ran his hand over them. He wished they could have an evening wedding, so they would have less time to wait until they retired. He wanted nothing more than to strip his bride and discover every inch of her. As she came to stand beside him, her eyes roving over him approvingly, he suspected she shared his wish.

The moment their hands joined, the world fell away, just as it did when they kissed. Father Hope was the only other person who existed to them. They exchanged their vows, meaning each word they spoke, and sealed their pledge with a kiss. This one differed from the others. Tenderness overshadowed the simmering passion. It was a promise of a lifetime together, a family they would build together, a home they would make for themselves, and a love that would endure.

When they opened the church doors, everyone discovered it was snowing. The crips white dusting along with the rich evergreen aroma from the bows decorating the church made it look like they stepped into a fairytale.

The Rowes and Pedricks rode back to Jemma’s family home. The newlyweds rode in a carriage by themselves. The ride was only fifteen minutes, but they made the most of it. Ben lowered the shades on each side and lifted Jemma into his lap.

“I’ve waited for this moment for days, but I’ve dreamed of it for years. I can finally call you wife.” Ben nuzzled her neck as she tangled her fingers in his hair. Seated, she could reach with ease. She angled her head, encouraging him to graze his teeth along her throat before his tongue dipped into the hollow between her collarbones.

“I can finally call you husband.” Jemma shifted and cupped his face before kissing him.

“Happy Christmas, Wife.”

“Happy Christmas, Husband.”

Need exploded between them now they were legally wed and allowed to indulge in their desires. Ben gathered her flowing skirts until he could feel her satiny thighs. He lifted her and guided her legs apart to straddle his lap. The heat from her mons pressed against his breeches, making his cock swell to a nearly painful fullness within the fabric’s confines. He ran his hands up and down her thighs, his thumbs pressing along the inside of the firm limbs.

“I will not make love to you for the first time in a carriage, Jemma. But I would bring you pleasure again.”

They sank into their kiss, and he swept his fingers along her seam. He groaned as he felt her dew coat his fingers. She was as eager as he, and he fought to maintain his restraint. One day, he would make love to his wife in a carriage, but it wouldn’t be before their wedding breakfast. His fingers dipped into her sheath, his other hand guiding her hips as they naturally undulated against him. His thumb found her pearl and circled it. Her fingers gripped his shoulders through his suit coat.

“I want to touch you too, Ben.” She tried to reach between them, but her skirts were in the way, and her body was pressed flush with his.

“If you do, I shall embarrass myself in front of everyone.” At Jemma’s furrowed brow, he chuckled. “My release shall stain my breeches. I can’t arrive at Rowe House with a puddle on the front of my pants.”

Jemma’s mouth opened in a circle, which widened when she felt Ben’s cock twitch beneath her. She glanced down again, but he increased the pressure as his hand worked her quim. Her head fell back, her hair brushing against his knees. She rode his hand until a tightening began low in her belly. She strained until euphoria burst forth. It began as a sensation lapping at her before cresting into a tsunami. Her head fell forward onto his shoulder as she struggled not to cry out.

“Let me see you, Jem.” Ben whispered against her ear. She straightened as her climax reached its peak and subsided. He kissed her as he continued to work her sheath until she felt the same ecstasy. Ben reveled in her expressions, the feeling of her entrance tightening around his fingers, and the spasms that wracked her body. They were pulling up to the front steps when he withdrew his hand. She watched him lick his fingers with a wolfish expression. “I shall make a proper meal of you later, Jem.”

“I’d like that.”

“I hope you shall enjoy it far more than just a simple like.”

“Oh,” Jemma giggled and blushed. “I meant I’d like to experience that again. I look forward to being your meal. Can you be mine?”

Ben choked, still surprised by some of the things Jemma said. “We can talk about that later, and you can decide if it’s something you’d like to try once you know what it entails.”

Jemma pressed her lips together, then ran her tongue between them. “I sort of already do. You know I saw the pictures in the book. I’ve also heard maids talking about it, and I overheard some grooms once. They were—uh—rather specific.”

“Are you an eavesdropper, Wife?”

Jemma flushed. “Sometimes.”

“Then it is a good thing I won’t keep secrets from you. Come before your family investigates what’s taking us so long.”

“I think they’re all sensible enough not to intrude on a couple that’s only been married half an hour and is alone.” Nonetheless, Jemma slipped from his lap and straightened her skirts. Ben rapped on the carriage roof, and the door opened. He stepped out first, then helped Jemma down, his hands around her waist despite how easy it would have been for her to climb down the steps. He pressed a quick, hard kiss to her lips before wrapping her arm around his. Their family awaited them in the drawing room, where every set of eyes turned to them as they entered. They both refused to be ashamed of what they’d done. They were finally married, after all.

The wedding breakfast was delicious and tiresome. They exchanged their Christmas gifts along with toasts to the happy couple. Any other year, it would be joyful to have everyone together. But this year, the newlyweds wanted to unwrap their own private presents. Jemma and Ben exchanged sly glances as the meal drew on, course after course. Their families chattered around them merrily, and they joined the conversations. But they wanted nothing more than to be alone. They both had unsatisfied fantasies they wished to explore. When the meal finally concluded, they both wondered what their families would force them to endure next. It was only early afternoon, so it was far too soon for them to retire. As they left the dining room, Jemma drew Ben to the side.

“Let’s go for a walk. I cannot listen anymore, and I’m growing irritable because I can’t be closer to you.”

“I feel the same. We aren’t traveling anywhere today, so this afternoon shall be interminable. We can walk along the clifftop and watch the water.” Ben waggled his eyebrows. Neither would look out to sea, and it would be far too cold to stand there for long. He led her to the drawing room door where they could see the rest of the family gathered. He noticed there were games set up, and the children were already at play. Unfortunately, Jemma’s other cousin, Lydia, hadn’t attended because her older sister expected a baby at any moment. Vinita and Ben’s mother, Anna, sat together. Charlie was on the ground playing with the children, while Steven, Charles, Theo, Raj, and Jemma’s brothers stood near the fireplace talking. The couple looked at one another before walking turning toward the front door.

“Ben?”

“Mother, we’re going for a walk.” Ben’s tone was resolute as he took Jemma’s hand in his. They entwined their fingers and continued their progress. No one appeared inclined to stop them, so they meandered the path to the summerhouse. When they entered, it shocked them to find someone had aired out all the furniture, and a fire already burned in the hearth.

“Charlie,” they said together as they peeled off their outer layers.

“I love you, Ben. I’ve wanted today since I met you, but I never believed it would happen, despite all my dreams.”

“I love you, Jem. I will regret until my last breath that I was too weak to step forward and tell you the truth.” They’d touched on this several times, but they both knew it was time they finally said all they thought, so they could put it to rest.

“Please don’t say that. I never should have, and I’m sorry. I never thought you weak. I said that to hurt you the way I hurt. I’m not proud of it.”

“You didn’t lie. I could have been the man I thought myself to be and spoken to you. But as time passed, I felt like a cad and feared I would only make it worse. I had years that I could have made things right, but it felt too hard, so I didn’t.”

“It’s not as though I did much on my part.”

“It’s not the same, and we know it. A woman approaching a man is far harder than the other way around. I don’t blame you for not doing it.”

“That had nothing to do with it, Ben. I would have if I hadn’t feared you turning away from me again.”

Ben sighed, looking out over Jemma’s head before bringing his gaze to hers. “My father was only partly right. You were too young. But then, so was I. I wasn’t mature enough for a wife before now. I would have loved you and protected you, provided for you in all things, but I don’t know that I could fully appreciate you before now. I know my feelings have changed, my infatuation and lust developed into more quickly. But the way I love you today is not the same as it was when it started. I see us in a way I couldn’t back then. I only saw us through rose-colored lenses when I imagined a future.”

“I know. I thought myself surely in love soon after we met. But those feelings seem so childish compared to how they’ve grown. For all we avoided one another, we were never far from each other when you came to Lantic Bay. At first, you were a strikingly handsome young man with an easy smile and teasing eyes, and I longed for you to direct them at me. It took us years to become who we are now and years to appreciate each other. I might have been marriageable by everyone else’s standards, but I don’t know that I would have been a good wife to you. I don’t know that I would have been as accepting of your travel and the danger. I understand now what’s at stake, and it makes me admire and respect you even more. We were children when we met, and we fell in love as children. But we are adults now, and I know we love as such.”

“Every day for the rest of my life.” Ben’s warm palm pressed against her cheek as she stretched to meet his kiss. “I love you, Wife.”

“I love you, Husband.”

Neither would grow tired of those words. Their kiss consumed them as their hands roved over each other’s body. Ben’s slid beneath Jemma’s hip-length tunic, easing upward until he cupped her breasts. They were perfection. They fit in his hands as though made for him. As he massaged, Jemma pulled his shirt from his waistband before her hands roamed over his heated skin. The muscles in his back bunched and released with each of his movements.

“Jemma, I want to make you my wife in truth. We’re truly alone here.”

“I want that, too. I don’t want everyone knowing what we’re about when we retire tonight. I don’t want anyone to hear us when we make love for the first time. I don’t want to share any of that with anyone else.” Jemma pulled her odhni from her shoulder and offered one end to Ben. She loosened and removed his cravat as he undid his cuffs. He pulled his tailcoat off, the tight sleeves annoying him while she unbuttoned his waistcoat. She began with the buttons at the bottom of his shirt as he worked down from the top.

“I never realized how fussy men’s clothing was. It’s worse than women’s. How long does it take to dress?” Jemma grinned as she pushed the shirt over Ben’s muscular shoulders. She nearly salivated as she feasted her eyes on his sun-kissed chest, a smatter of hair across the expanse, leading from his navel to below his waistband. His skin looked like polished bronze, making her forget about his shirt. Her hands explored the dips and ridges along his chest and abdomen as he dropped his shirt into his pile of discarded clothing.

“Too long. I’m glad not to wear this every day.” Ben dropped a kiss on Jemma’s lips before moving to the skin near her ear. A spot usually hidden by her hair, one that only he had the privilege of exploring. His hands grasped the hem of her kurta , the tunic she wore, and drew it over her head. She wore a short blouse beneath it, which only came to her midriff. He’d seen nothing like it before.

“It’s called a choli . In some parts of India, it’s worn beneath a sari, which is like my odhni but far longer and wider. It wraps around a woman as a skirt, then drapes over her shoulder. My skirt is a ghagra . I have longer kurta ,” she pointed to her tunic that lay beside his clothes, “that I wear with churidar , a type of trousers. They’re like the ones Raj is wearing but made for women.”

“I’ve never seen you in any of those.”

Jemma shook her head, a sad smile on her lips. “People would think it disgraceful for me to show so much skin or to wear trousers in public. I’m likely to get myself arrested. I only wear them when I’m on my family’s estate.”

Ben lifted the choli over her head and kissed her shoulder. It was his turn to feast his eyes as he looked at her small, pert breasts. “Does that mean you won’t wear your clothes in Bedruthan?”

Jemma stilled. She understood she would follow Ben to his home, but they hadn’t discussed her moving since the last time they discussed where they’d spend next Christmas. She hadn’t considered her wardrobe, even though maids packed it for her.

“I don’t know.”

“Jem, I hope you do. There is space for us to live with my parents for now. But I’ll build you the cottage on our land as soon as the weather allows. When we are at home, I hope you’ll dress as you always have.”

“So, you can enjoy seeing me half dressed?” Jemma offered him a sassy mien.

“You won’t be half dressed by your customs, so I don’t think of it that way. But will I enjoy seeing more of you? Of course. You are stunning, Jem.” He bent and brought her breast to his mouth. As he alternated suckling each side, Jemma kicked off her slippers, then pushed down her skirts and stockings. She stood before her husband, naked, suddenly feeling vulnerable because he wasn’t completely bare. She reached for his breeches and unfastened the fall. She pushed the trousers over his trim hips, but they encountered a problem once they reached his knees.

“You seem to be caught with your trousers down, Husband.”

“So it seems. I have to sit down to take these blasted boots off.” Carefulness not to step on Jem’s precious clothes made him waddle a couple steps. Jemma’s giggles made him playfully scowl as he sat. She grasped one boot and tugged, then did the same for the other. He rolled down his stockings until all that remained were his smalls. He hesitated, once more unsure of his wife’s knowledge. Seeing pictures in a book was far different from being present with the real thing.

“I know we can’t make love with those in the way,” Jemma said, as though she read his mind. “I have four brothers, Ben. I know what lies—” Her cheeks flushed red. “—stands beneath them.”

“We’ll go slowly, sweetling.” Ben wished to offer her reassurance, but he saw a flash of disappointment. “Jemma?”

“Yes?”

“What’s the matter? I saw that look. Did I say something wrong?”

“I don’t want to go slowly,” she blurted. She swatted at Ben playfully when his chest puffed out and pure male pride beamed across his face. She knew he did it in jest. She lunged forward, knocking him backwards. He caught her and rolled them, so she reclined on her back. “Seven years was slow enough.”

“And if I wish to savor every moment of this?”

“Then do. But don’t let me grow old in the meantime.”

“You are a cheeky little one.” Ben slipped off his underpants before reaching beneath her and squeezing her backside. She arched her back, thrusting her breasts into his chest as she moaned. His other hand squeezed one as he brought his tongue to her nipple. He circled and flicked, eliciting one moan after another. While he focused on increasing her arousal, it distracted him until he felt her hand wrap around his length. Her hand was snug without being painful since his cock was achingly full. He peered into her eyes, and he saw her uncertainty. In a near whisper, he said, “Stroke up and down.”

As her hand moved with caution at first, he returned his attention to her breasts. When he groaned and thrust into her hand, she grew more daring, experimenting with speed and pressure. Ben fought the need for release, refusing to allow their first time to end abruptly and prematurely. The hand that cupped her bottom swept over her hip and dove between her thighs. She’d parted them to allow him to rest between her legs. His fingers danced along her petals and dipped into her entrance. This groan was manly pride, feeling how much his bride desired him.

“I’m still hungry.” Ben crawled backward until he could rest his shoulders between her coffee-hued legs. He’d noticed her skin was slightly lighter under her clothing, but it was still the most magnificent shade of brown he’d ever seen. It reminded him of the aromatic beverage. He already knew he would enjoy the taste of his wife far more than the potent brew. His tongue laved her from stem to stern. A surprised squeal filled his ears as she squirmed, still not used not the sensation. But he was persistent, and it wasn’t long before she clenched his hair, pressing his face to her mons.

His teeth grazed over her nub as his tongue slipped inside. There was no sensation to which she could compare. It was unlike anything else. She settled until Ben sucked on her pearl, she nearly came off the ground. Her thighs squeezed around his head until he had to pry her legs away, pressing at the inside of her knees. He continued his ministrations until she felt the familiar tightening. This time, as bliss enveloped her, she did nothing to keep silent. She noticed each moan and sigh urged Ben to pleasure her more, so she held nothing back as she climaxed.

Ben watched every moment of her release, relishing her taste and the view as her cheeks flushed. Her breasts rose and fell as she panted, tempting him back to them. He eased himself back over her, resting most of his weight on his left forearm beside her head. His right arm merely kept his balance. He kissed her neck and jaw as her legs bracketed him. He reached between them and aligned his sword with her sheath.

“Now, Ben, please.”

“I fear hurting you, Jemma. I’m sorry.”

“I know, but I want this, too.”

Ben nodded. He pressed his mouth to hers, and she could taste herself as he thrust into her. Her moan was not one of pleasure as her body went rigid. The pain radiated, making her fingers and toes curl. Ben did everything he could to remain still, but his cock thought her clenching core was an invitation since she was so tight. He wanted to surge into her over and over but settled for inching his way into her as she relaxed.

“Are you all right, my love?” Ben brushed hair back from her temples as her pain subsided.

“I am now. No warning quite prepares you for that, but it’s over. Now it just feels—strange.” She ginned.

“I shall endeavor to never let it feel strange again and to ensure you wish to do this again.”

“Oh, I’ll want to do it again. I think a cottage of our own shall be a necessity, or everyone in your parents’ household will know I wish to do this morning, noon, and night.”

Ben rocked his hips, circling as he pressed into her fully. She lifted hers to meet each surge. She grasped his backside, pressing him to her, wanting to feel every inch of him within her. They moved together over and over as their desire grew nearly frantic. He pistoned his hips as she pushed her feet into the ground to meet each thrust with her own. As she felt her body approach her release, her nails scored his back.

“Marking me, Wife?” Ben growled.

“I suppose—yes. You’re mine.”

“I am. And you are mine, Jemma. Always. I will never have another, and I will never let you go.”

“Good, because I shall only hold on.”

Their kiss was frenetic as they rushed toward the edge and tumbled over it together. Ben could resist no longer as her quim clenched around him, holding him in place and milking him of his seed. He felt each burst as he called out her name.

“Jem!”

“Ben!” His name ended on a moan that filled the air.

They clung to one another, panting, as Ben rested on his exhausted arm. She pulled him closer, wanting to be chest to chest again. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled so she nestled against his chest. He drew the odhni over her, keeping the cool air from chilling her. Far more time had passed than they realized, the sun having shifted toward the western horizon. They lay together, their fingers drawing lazy patterns over each other’s skin as they stared outside as the setting sun made the snow twinkle, many of the tree limbs still laden with it.

“How do you feel, sweetling?”

“Happy.” Jemma stretched her neck and kissed him.

“Was this a good Christmas?”

“The very best, Ben. I can’t of a better gift than receiving your name. I’m Jemima Pedrick.”

“I can’t think of a better gift than knowing we’ll spend our lives together.”

They settled, both enjoying the quiet of their winter hideaway before their eyes drifted closed. Neither slept, but instead, they relished the peace and coital bliss they shared.