Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

After a month of marriage, I happily discovered I had managed to control my tongue and not earn any bad-girl spankings, though Jeffrey treated me to one or two good-girl spankings that I liked very much. In fact, there were many things about being married I liked very much.

Although we did not have a wedding trip, Jeffrey made a point of doing minimal business, so we were able to spend a great deal of time together. I enjoyed learning more about him. While the circumstances of our marriage were controversial and not likely to make for a good match, I could not help but be eternally grateful to the strange set of circumstances that forced our union upon us.

My duties as the wife of the Duke of Amherst were numerous. Oversight of the household staff and budget was a daunting task, indeed. Eventually, I would manage the household staff at all three Amherst family estates. I planned to do my best not to disappoint Jeffrey.

My other duties seemed mostly confined to the bedroom, and there I also strived not to disappoint.

Although he was very proper and always behaved, at least publicly, like a perfect gentleman, in private, my husband was quite ardent. My response to his ardor surprised me even more. I had been vaguely aware that marital intimacies of some sort happened, but I assumed they were of a perfunctory and businesslike nature for the sole purpose of procreation. Marriage thoroughly divested me of that notion.

While I was certain Jeffrey wanted to have children, particularly a son, I hoped not all of his attentions to me were for purely familial purposes.

Why he had bothered to marry me at all puzzled me. He could have easily refused and sent me back to America without batting an eye and no one would have thought the less of him. Yet, he did not. When we became engaged, he had said he wished to marry me for my spirit. It hardly seemed sufficient reason. Handsome, charming, and rich, he could have chosen any woman as his wife, so why an American upstart like me?

As summer approached, we adjourned to Bradford Hall, the Amherst family's country home.

"Shield your eyes." Jeffrey's excitement had built during our entire journey from London to the country, so when we turned onto the lane to Bradford Hall, he insisted on surprising me.

"But you have pulled the curtains closed, is that not enough?"

"You may either conceal your eyes or I shall put you over my knee. In either case, you will not get your first glimpse of Bradford Hall until I say so."

The thought of going over his knee titillated, but I complied. He covered my hands with his.

"To make sure you do not peek," he said, but I think he just liked holding me close. I liked it, too.

At last, the carriage came to a halt. When the door opened, my eyes remained hidden.

"Thank you, Edwards, but I shall assist the duchess from the carriage. Please see to the luggage," Jeffrey said, dispatching the footman.

Thereupon, my virile duke lifted me in his arms and exited the carriage. "No peeking, Yankee girl," he whispered, and a thrill wound through my body at the rasp in his voice. He set me on the ground. "Behold, Duchess of Amherst, your country estate."

I eagerly dropped my hands to my sides and stood agape. Nothing in Boston or Philadelphia, or possibly anywhere in the world, could compare to the massive, elegant manor.

When I finally recovered myself, I glanced at my husband. Instead of gazing at his home, he focused on me. A look of sheer glee covered his face.

"Does it please you?" he asked, eager as a schoolboy.

"Yes," I said. "It pleases me very much. How could it not?"

"I am glad you like it." Taking my hand, he escorted me inside. He showed me around the entire first floor, pointing out favorite paintings or artifacts, telling me stories of scrapes and bruises he acquired from sliding down the banisters, as well as enlightening me as to the history of his—now mine as well—family. I had never seen him so animated, at least not outside the bedroom.

When he headed for the second floor, I insisted upon a respite. "Jeffrey"—I flung myself upon a sofa—"I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I am quite fatigued and would dearly love some refreshments before we continue our tour."

He blushed. Yes, Jeffrey, the Duke of Amherst, blushed. "I am sorry." He grinned sheepishly. "I so wanted to share this home with you, I overlooked the fact you have had an extended journey to get here." He rang for refreshments then sat with me in the drawing room until they arrived.

"Does this house remain empty when you are not here?" I asked, taking in the rich furnishings of the room.

"Of course not. The staff is here year round."

"They stay here simply waiting for your return?" This seemed highly inefficient to me.

"It is their home," he said, a note of pride in his voice. "Besides"—he lifted my hand to his lips and kissed the inside of my wrist— "I hope we might spend more time here than I have in the past. The London social season holds little appeal for me."

"My home is where you are, your grace," I said and meant it.

He pulled me close and kissed me until my head was all muddled. Had the refreshments not arrived at that instant, who knows what the help might have found us doing a few minutes later.

Once we were alone again, Jeffrey removed the cover from the tray to reveal a platter of beautifully arranged fruit. My mouth watered at such opulence.

"Pineapples!" I gasped.

"Have you never tried one?" he asked, handing me a plate of fruit in every color.

"No," I admitted. "Only the very wealthiest Americans have them. Though my father was quite successful, we did not have a conservatory to grow them." The fruit was a precious commodity. "I've always wanted to taste one."

"So," he teased, "are you saying there is something here in England that is better than life in America?"

"I cannot answer your question until I taste it." I met his playful gaze with my own.

I held the plate close to my face and inhaled the sweet aroma. My mouth watered in anticipation.

Jeffrey watched me closely, nearly as excited as I. "Go ahead," he said eagerly. "Try it."

"But are you not going to fill a plate for yourself? 'Tis rude for me to proceed when you have nothing to eat."

"No, no. Please." He waved his hands to encourage me. "I want to see your expression when you taste it."

Was I such an oddity simply because I had never tasted pineapple? However, any pique I might have felt disappeared once I bit into the tender flesh of the fruit. Flavor exploded across my tongue then throughout my mouth. My eyes opened wide, and I turned to Jeffrey.

He grinned. "Delicious, is it not?"

All I could do was nod. A bit of sweet juice trickled down my chin. I swiped at it with my tongue, not wanting to waste any of it.

I consumed a second chunk of the heavenly delight while he filled his plate. "Thank you. This is an unexpected treat."

"I have plans for many unexpected treats for you, little duchess."

My face flushed, and I nearly choked on the final sliver of fruit in my mouth.