Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

The next morning, I decided to allow myself a day to enjoy Jeffrey's company so, by sheer will, I did not think about my predicament.

The time with Jeffrey filled me with joy. I pretended life was perfect with no catastrophic storm—of my own creation—brewing on the horizon.

Unfortunately, sleep did not cooperate. That night, while he slept, I slipped from our room to visit the conservatory.

Small sitting areas nestled amongst the plants made it my favorite place in all of Bradford Hall. There, I found a quiet spot to gather my thoughts. I gazed upward at the yellow moon, thinking back to the many times I did exactly the same thing, but in so many different locations. My father's home in America, on the ship crossing the Atlantic and, now, here, at the home I shared with the man I loved.

I could not believe I had squandered my opportunity for a happy life with Jeffrey. Before my horrible, awful lie, I was unreservedly content. Now, my happiness would only last as long as I could keep my husband unaware of what I had done. Surely, he would cast me aside once he knew.

I would have nowhere to go unless I buggered my pride and returned to America to beg my father, as well as his repugnant new wife, for a place to rest my head. Would I even be able to make it across the Atlantic without throwing myself overboard at the prospect of such humiliation?

I buried my face in my hands, weeping for my foolishness and pride, which had triggered this disaster. Once I cried myself out, I must have dozed off because the next thing I remembered was Jeffrey standing before me in a near panic, shaking my shoulders.

"Sarah, Sarah." The urgency in his voice woke me with a start.

I gaped at him. "What is wrong?"

His hands continued to grip my shoulders while he let out a heavy sigh. "You scared me half to death. That's what is wrong."

Glancing about, I saw the moon no longer hung directly overhead. How long had I slept? "I am sorry, my dear. I did not mean to alarm you. Truly, I did not."

"What are you doing here, Sarah? Why did you leave our bed?" He studied my face, searching for an answer.

Well, if you insist upon knowing, I have come here to figure out how to prevent you from disowning me and sending me back to America since I have told several ladies in the neighborhood that I am an English lady from the Lake District, not Sarah Hancock from America. How do you suggest I go about remedying this mess?

No, that would not do.

"I am here to check on the pineapple plant," I said, as though it was a perfectly logical thing to do.

"Pineapple?" He released my shoulders to cross his arms over his broad chest. The muscles flexed beneath the opening of his sleeping attire, and I imagined sliding my fingers across his hard flesh.

"Y-yes," I lied, licking my lips.

He shook his head from side to side, incredulous. "You wandered through a dark house in the middle of the night to check on a pineapple plant? And frightened the wits out of me in the process?"

"I am sorry. It does sound silly. It was a gift from you, so I wanted to make sure it had not come to any harm."

"Have the gardening staff here at Bradford Hall given you cause to believe they were incapable of caring for a pineapple?" Jeffrey's dark eyes bore down on me, though the corner of his mouth turned up oh-so-slightly, giving me a bit of hope he might not be quite as irritated as he appeared.

"No, they are excellent at their jobs." How can I get out of this conversation?

"So, there was really no good reason for you to wander about alone, possibly injure yourself, not to mention worry me, is that correct?"

Fed up with his questioning as well as the entire situation, I glared up at him, though my anger was with myself. "Yes, I was foolish. Pardon me." I stood. "Now, if you are done lecturing me, I would like to go back to bed."

I took a step toward the exit, but Jeffrey's hand on my elbow halted my progress.

"Oh, no you don't, little hellcat. There is still the matter of your discipline to be addressed."

He placed his foot on the bench I had just vacated and angled me over his thigh. "Ah, this reminds me of our first meeting," he said. "Little did I know when I turned your fresh Yankee bottom over my knee that night I would have the pleasure of teaching you how to become a proper British lady over and over again."

"I assessed you as a brute then, and I believe that is still the case." I ought not to have provoked him, but I was tired, and his actions were unreasonable.

Despite the warm temperature of the conservatory, when Jeffrey raised my nightgown to expose my bottom, my backside prickled with gooseflesh. His hand caressed my flank. My thighs quivered under his touch.

Whap . His palm landed on the curve of my bottom.

"Ouch!" My worries about the future were long forgotten once my attention focused on the pain in my backside. "That hurts!"

"Be grateful I did not send you to find a switch from one of the plants here. We have a ready supply at our fingertips."

He spanked repeatedly on the underside of my buttocks, and the area heated with each additional swat. "Please tell me, your grace, why would a young wife leave the warmth of her husband's side to verify the well-being of a plant? Is this an American custom?"

"No, it is not an American custom. It was foolish. Is that what you want me to say?" I ought to have been grateful for his concern for me, but gratitude paled while my backside pulsed.

He wiggled his thigh a bit so my legs spread. I felt the moist air of the arboretum on my private place, the one Jeffrey called my pussy. When I did not respond immediately to his question, he spanked me there, too. A jolt of desire shot across to the heat in my bottom as well as every location in between.

"That is a good start." I heard a snap and peeked back to see he had broken off a leafy branch from a nearby plant. He patted the rough leaves over the singed flesh of my derriere, sending all the nerve endings into a frenzy.

"I cannot help but wonder." He used the greenery to swat up and down my thighs and bottom. It was not so painful as his hand had been, but the sensations sent me wriggling across his hard thigh, my thoughts far from pineapples and deception. "What else might be on your mind to make sleep elusive, little wife. Are not our marital activities enough to fatigue you?"

"Yes. No." I gasped for a steady breath.

"So, you do have something on your mind, and our physical relationship is not rigorous enough to suit you?"

"No. Yes." I kicked my feet in frustration. "I do not know. Leave me alone."

"Are you sure that is what you want?" The flora dropped to the floor while Jeffrey's strong fingers moved inside my yearning passage.

"Yes," I gasped. He zeroed in on my most sensitive place and stroked familiarly.

"Pineapple is a very sweet fruit, is it not?" he asked while he worked my hot flesh.

"Yes," I swallowed around the dry lump in my throat. "It is."

"Do you know what is even sweeter?" His fingers plunged in and out. I pressed into him, clenching my muscles around his digits.

"What?" I finally said.

"Let me show you, little wife." He halted his attention to my lady parts, tipped me upright, then lifted my nightgown over my head before positioning me on the bench, my knees spread wide. I had no idea what he intended but had no will to question him either. The cool bench felt good against my chastised bottom.

He knelt on the floor and lowered his mouth to touch me. There. Where his fingers had been. I opened my mouth to protest, but once his tongue infiltrated my sex, speech became impossible. I buried my hands in his hair, urging him closer. He enthusiastically obliged.

I knew I ought to be ashamed at having his mouth on me there, but I could only feel delight. I watched as he pleasured me, never before considering my own anatomy in such a way. His tongue licked along my inner thighs and across the swollen lips of my sex then he pulled back on the hood of my femininity to suck on the small nub there.

"Jeffrey!" I clutched his head between my fingers.

He raised his head and pulled me down for a kiss unlike any I had ever experienced. There, on my lover's mouth, I tasted my own essence. Shame and exhilaration flooded me. As we kissed, his fingers resumed their torture of my sex. Pulling away from me, he gazed into my eyes. "That, my dear wife, is the sweetest taste on earth." Then he kissed me again, and I had to agree.

Jeffrey divested himself of his nightshirt. The soft light of the rising sun illuminated the hard planes of his torso and highlighted his large, erect penis. We switched places so that he used the bench. He pulled me down to sit on his manhood, and there, between the exotic scents and greenery of the conservatory, my husband planted his seed in me.

Jeffrey's return made me so happy, I nearly forgot all the lies I had told in his absence. All of that changed two days after our sojourn in the conservatory.

"I thought we would leave at one o'clock today," my husband commented over breakfast.

I glanced up from my repast. "Leave?"

"Yes, for the Bucklands' lawn party."

"W-what?"

"The Bucklands are a well-known family in this area. Their lawn party is very popular as well as a wonderful opportunity to introduce my new wife to my neighbors."

I stared, open-mouthed. My mind swirled, while a lump of dread pitted my stomach. "I do not recall receiving an invitation," I lied, digging my hole of deceit even deeper.

"Invitations are not necessary. It takes place the first Saturday in July. Everyone in the area will be there."

"I do not have anything appropriate to wear," I replied, desperate for any excuse.

"Nothing to wear?" Jeffrey guffawed. "Oh, Sarah, you are so funny."

"Yes. I had no notice of this event, and there is nothing suitable in my wardrobe."

He abandoned his breakfast, stood, then indicated for me to do the same. "We shall examine your clothing. You must have several dresses which will make you the most beautiful woman there."

He led me up the stairs, my heart heavy with dread.

Jeffrey examined my selection of garments. "What about this one?"

He held up a divine blue linen dress, perfect for a lawn party, but since I had no inclination to be anywhere near the event, I vetoed it. He chose another, and a naughty idea came to me.

"That one is nice. Perhaps I should try it on?" I turned, so he could assist me in undressing.

"Ah, Yankee girl, you are determined to distract me this morning." Despite his protests, he made short work of the task then held out the dress for me to step into.

Ignoring his efforts to clothe me, I moved close to him, slid my hands the length of his torso, and pushed the jacket off his shoulders. "You are wearing too many clothes, my darling." I used my most seductive tone.

"The rule only applies to you, little one." Though he did not resist my efforts.

"Oh, I understand the rules." I skimmed my fingertips from his shoulders to his wrists, opening his cuffs before moving to the front closure of his shirt. "But that does not mean we cannot break some rules as well."

I grasped the hem of his shirt and tugged upward. He dipped his head to accommodate my smaller stature. His shirt joined my dress on the floor.

"Are you trying to seduce me, Yankee girl?"

In a fit of boldness fueled by desperation, I clasped the front of his pants, cupping his firm shaft in my hand. "I believe I am succeeding, your grace." I gave a meaningful squeeze, which was rewarded when he lifted me into his arms and pushed me down into the softness of our marriage bed.

"Lady Buckland will not mind if we are a few minutes late. We are newlyweds, after all," Jeffrey rasped into my ear.

Despite my seduction, the Duke would not be deterred. Shortly after our tryst, I found myself seated in the Amherst family carriage en route to the Buckland estate.

"I am sure you will enjoy yourself today." Jeffrey spoke animatedly. "Lady Buckland is quite a character. Her daughters, Lady Hampshire and Lady Suffield, are lively and charming. I think you will enjoy making their acquaintance."

Oh, we're acquainted all right . A shudder ran through my body. "I look forward to meeting them."

What did my mother always say? Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.

The web of deceit had a stranglehold on me that tightened with each turn of the carriage wheels until I feared I would faint.

"You are very serious, little wife." Jeffrey tipped his hat to a passing carriage, no doubt another couple en route to the Bucklands' soiree. "Are you unwell?"

I forced a smile. "I am fine, thank you, my dear. Is it not a lovely day?"

"Yes, it is a lovely day, which is why I find it odd that you appear to be scowling and deep in thought." He tapped his finger on my knee. "Remember…no secrets. So, tell me what is on your mind, Sarah girl."

My husband had a wide range of nicknames for me, some more appealing than others, but each of them made my tummy tighten a bit with their possessiveness. Whenever he simply called me "Sarah," I wondered if he was upset with me.

He touched my thigh and squeezed until I met his gaze. "Out with it, or I will take you over my knee to spank the truth from you right here."

Perhaps having such an attentive and perceptive spouse had some disadvantages.

I clasped my hands tightly together in my lap and stared at them, not daring to look him in the eye. "What if your friends will not accept an American as your wife?"

The oh-so-proper Duke of Amherst cursed under his breath. I snapped my head around to stare at him. His expression went dark. I immediately regretted saying anything, but the words could not be unsaid, so I braced myself for his reply.

He took a deep breath. "I have chosen you as my wife. Nothing else matters."

I envied his confidence.

We arrived at the Bucklands' estate, and I prepared to meet my fate.