Chapter 13

“Wherein surprises abound.”

28 th November 1820.

The next morning, Justin awaited his wife in the breakfast parlour, fidgeting impatiently for the sound of her light footsteps. He’d just had news that the present he had bought her had arrived earlier than expected, and he was all eagerness to show it to her.

“Good morning, Justin.”

“Bea.”

Justin’s breath caught as his wife came into the room. She looked stunning in a gown of deep forest green that highlighted the green in her eyes. It fitted beautifully, showing off the curves of her bust and her slender form, making him long to go to her and pull her into his arms. He might have done so too, if a footman had not entered in her wake, pulling out her chair and serving her tea.

Regretting their audience, Justin sat, and then waved the servants away impatiently the moment she had been served her breakfast.

“That’s a lovely gown, Bea. It suits you.”

“Thank you,” she replied, smoothing a hand over the fine velvet in a way that made his mouth suddenly dry, imagining his own hand following the same path. “It’s new and only arrived yesterday. I ordered some new gowns from the modiste I always used before Papa died. Happily, she has made for me since I was little more than a girl, and knows my measurements by heart, I should think.”

“I should say she does,” Justin replied, unable to keep the rather lustful note from his words.

She glanced at him uncertainly and he returned a rueful smile. To his relief, Bea laughed and shook her head.

“Did you order a riding habit yet?” he asked, watching her elegant fingers as she buttered a warm roll and added a small spoonful of jam. She nodded, biting into the roll with relish. Justin watched her mouth as she chewed, telling himself not to be so ridiculous. The sight of his wife’s mouth ought not to be enough to have his body reacting so forcefully. Yet it was, and he had to take a deep breath to steady himself.

“I did. Not that I’ve had time to wear it, even if I’d had time to find a horse. I really must, for I miss riding out.”

Justin hid a smile and nodded. “Indeed, it is a pity, for I should enjoy riding out with you. There are some lovely paths around Chalfont that I would love to show you. It’s such a beautiful morning, too, though cold, I think.”

“That does not signify,” she said, shaking her head. “I love riding on a cold, crisp morning. There is nothing better, and now you have made me wistful, longing for something I cannot have.”

“Have I?” he asked her softly, wondering if she knew how he hungered for her, for the kind of intimacy he longed to share with her.

She held his gaze for a moment, hearing more in his tone than just the words. Bea looked away, and he knew he had unnerved her, but she glanced back at him a moment later, a speculative gleam in her eyes that gave him hope. He winked at her, and she bit her lip, hiding a smile. Justin’s heart soared.

When they had finished eating, Justin followed her out of the breakfast parlour. “My Lady Rutherford, might I beg a moment of your time?”

She turned, smiling quizzically at him and his sudden formality. “You may, my lord.”

“Excellent! Morley, bring my coat and my lady’s cloak and bonnet, there’s a good fellow.”

Morley nodded, hurrying off.

“Justin, whatever are you up to?” Bea asked, laughing as he strode impatiently up and down until Morley reappeared.

Justin said nothing, only flashed her a grin and bundled her into her cloak, barely giving her time to tie the ribbons of her bonnet before he took her hand, dragging her out of doors.

“Have you gone mad?” she asked, still laughing as he broke into a run, tugging her behind him. She squealed and clutched at her bonnet as she scurried to keep up.

“Mad for you, my love,” he called back, wondering if she knew how true the words were as they arrived at the stables. Bea was pink-cheeked and breathless and had never looked lovelier as far as he was concerned.

“Now, stay there, and close your eyes,” he told her.

She opened her mouth to protest, but whatever she saw in his expression stilled her tongue and she smiled instead, closing her eyes. Unable to resist the temptation, Justin pressed his mouth to hers, the exquisite pleasure of being able to do such a thing singing through his blood like the finest of champagne.

“Don’t move,” he whispered against her lips, before hurrying away. “Where is she?” he asked the head groom quietly.

The man saw Bea standing with her eyes closed and grinned. “In here, my lord, and the sweetest creature she is, too, though a tad skittish. My lady will love her, I reckon.”

Justin patted the fellow on the shoulder, delighted, and followed him into the newly refurbished stables. He had known the mare was perfect for Bea the moment he had seen her. A dappled grey Arabian, with her finely chiselled head and arching neck, she was the prettiest horse he had ever seen.

He led the mare out, keeping his eyes upon Bea as she stood patiently, awaiting his word.

“You can open your eyes now,” he told her, unable to keep a stupid grin from his face.

Bea’s eyes opened and settled upon the mare. Justin watched, feeling ridiculously nervous, as her mouth fell open. “Oh! How beautiful. What a splendid horse, Justin, you…” She hesitated, staring at him. “You bought her for me?”

Justin laughed at her incredulity. “Of course I bought her for you, you ridiculous girl. Why else am I standing here?”

“Oh, Justin!” She ran to him, hugging him tightly and kissing his cheek, making him feel about ten feet tall before she turned to the mare and stroked her soft nose.

“She’s called Dove,” he told her as the mare snuffled at her fingers and the two got to know each other. “And she’s got the loveliest manners, but she’s got spirit too, just enough to give you a challenge without being overly headstrong.”

“I don’t know what to say,” she said, sounding a little choked. “I never received anything so lovely in all my days. She’s beautiful, Justin, thank you so much.”

“Anything for you, love,” he said, meaning it.

She turned to look at him, her eyes dancing. “Can we ride now?” she asked, looking so much like an innocent girl asking for a treat that his heart clenched. “Oh, but do we have a side-saddle?” she asked, her face falling comically.

“As if I would give such a gift without thinking of a side-saddle. We’ve everything you need, and of course we can ride now,” he told her, laughing. “Get yourself changed and I’ll have her ready for you.”

Bea gave a little yip of delight, kissed the mare on the nose and then kissed Justin too, before running back across the stable yard.

“I think she were pleased, my lord,” the head groom said wryly as Justin led the mare back to the stall to see to her tack.

“I think so, too,” Justin replied with a grin, wondering at how good it made him feel to do something that made Bea happy.

“Oh, you should see her, Rachel. She’s the prettiest creature, and so sweet. Justin says she’s got lovely manners, but she’s spirited too. He chose her just for me! I Isn’t that thoughtful of him? For he knows how I have missed riding and—”

“Lord love you, my lady, I can’t do these buttons up if you don’t hold still,” Rachel said in exasperation, as she tried to help Bea into her riding habit at record speed, but Bea could not keep still. She was bursting with excitement, with the joy of a ride on a lovely winter’s morning, and the knowledge that Justin had taken such trouble to please her.

The moment she was ready, she ran from the room.

“Don’t go breaking your neck!” Rachel called after her, but Bea only laughed, running down the stairs and flying through the front doors so fast Morley stared at her in astonishment.

When she got to the stables, Justin was waiting patiently as he’d promised, with Dove all tacked up and ready with her handsome new side saddle. Bea hurried over to the mounting block and climbed up, smiling delightedly at her husband as he helped her adjust her stirrup and then arranged her heavy skirts neatly. He took a lot of trouble, his hand lingering on her calf, making her aware of the warmth of his palm through her stockings. Finally satisfied, he stood back.

“I like that,” he said, gesturing to her new riding habit, which was a vivid blue with black braiding trim. She wore a Glengarry cap of the same colour blue, trimmed with a matching plaited ribbon and a plume of feathers. “I think we must have a painting commissioned of you and Dove together, for I never saw anything so splendid as the two of you.”

“Stop!” Bea cried, laughing at him. “If you make me any happier, I shall burst.”

Justin grinned at her, looking so genuinely pleased with himself that Bea could not take the smile from her face. She watched as her husband strode over to his own mount, a handsome bay thoroughbred that danced sideways as Justin mounted. Bea’s heart skipped as she saw the ease with which he brought the horse under control, his strong thighs flexing in the beautifully tailored breeches that clung to his muscular legs. A surge of excitement thrummed through her, and not only for the coming ride. The sight of her husband astride a horse was one that filled her with pride and a return of the restless impatience that nagged at her with increasing intensity.

“Ready?” Justin asked her.

“Yes,” Bea called back, patting Dove’s neck before she got the mare trotting out after Justin, following him out of the stable yard.

To begin with, Justin watched her anxiously, obviously concerned in case she had overrated her own skill in the saddle, but after they been riding for the best part of an hour and taken a couple of jumps she considered extremely tame, he relaxed and gave her an approving nod.

“You ride beautifully, Bea. Your father was quite right to commend you.”

Bea flushed with pleasure, delighted by the compliment, but also touched that he’d remembered her comment about her father. “Thank you. Does that mean we can gallop?” she asked hopefully.

Justin laughed and nodded. “There’s a big open stretch coming up, love. If you can hold on a few minutes longer,” he teased.

Bea stuck her tongue out at him, making him laugh. They carried on, riding through the woodland, the crisp sound of fallen leaves underfoot a soothing backdrop, mingled with birdsong and the occasional huff or whicker from the horses. When they emerged into a large, green field that must be used for grazing, Bea gave an exclamation of delight. They were up high here, stunning views all around, though Bea saw nothing but Justin, his handsome face alight with pleasure as he turned and grinned.

“Ready, love?” he asked, and then galloped away from her.

“Oh! Justin, you devil!” she exclaimed, and charged after him.

Dove flew over the ground, seeming just as joyful as Bea as they galloped after Justin and his mount. Though they had no hope of catching the big thoroughbred, she did not think Dove minded any more than she did. It was simply a moment of pure exhilaration and delight, as everything flew past in a blur and the wind burned Bea’s cheeks, making her feel awake and alive in a way nothing else could.

Finally, she slowed Dove, bringing her to a halt beside Justin, who looked just as bright-eyed and energised as she felt. “How was she?”

“Perfection,” Bea told him, leaning down to pat the mare’s neck. “Absolute perfection.”

“Just like her mistress, then,” he told her, a gleam in his eyes that made her feel rather reckless.

“Race you back to the house,” she suggested, wondering if she was being a fool but not caring.

She took off before he could reply, hearing his shout and ignoring it as she guided Dove back along the ridge, riding flat out, and then cantering as fast as she dared along the paths they had taken to get here. When she got to the stables, she dismounted, jumping nimbly down before a groom could come to help her, and taking a moment to whisper her thanks to Dove and stroke her silken neck. In normal circumstances, she would not have considered leaving her mount in the hands of a groom after a ride, preferring to see to it herself, but as Justin’s horse clattered into the yard, she had other things on her mind.

She stared at him for a moment, her lips quirking before she grasped her skirts, calling out to him. “You’re not at the house yet!”

With that, she took to her heels and ran, hearing his exclamation as he dismounted. Bea flew along the pathway back to the house, breathless and wishing her corset was not quite so tight. When she got to the front door, she saw Justin was close behind her and gave a little shriek, closing the door on him and sliding the bolt across. She gave a delighted laugh as he pushed at the door.

“Bea! Let me in!” he shouted, though he was laughing too.

Bea stuck her tongue out at him and shook her head. “You lose!” she cried, and ran away, hurrying up the stairs as dignified Morley practically lunged to the front door to open it, looking between the two of them as if they’d run mad.

Perhaps they had, she thought, she had never been happier in her life.

She squealed as Justin pursued her, taking the stairs two at a time. Bea hurried along the corridor, running into her room but not managing to close the door before Justin pushed through it. Gasping, she shrieked as he kicked the door shut and hauled her into his arms.

“Now I have you, wicked creature. What do you mean by running away from your husband?” he mock-scolded her.

“How else could I get you to chase me?” she demanded, and then pressed her mouth to his.

She heard his breath catch, felt the stillness come over him, before he let go and kissed her passionately, devouring her mouth, his tongue tasting and sliding over hers, his breath coming fast.

“Bea,” he groaned, dragging his mouth from hers to kiss the line of her jaw, her throat. “Bea, love, I want you. I cannot stop thinking about it, about you.”

She smiled at his words, pleased to know he felt such things for her even as a rush of trepidation shivered over her skin. Breathing hard, Justin stopped, resting his forehead against hers.

“Do you want this, Bea? Do you want me?”

Bea hesitated, biting her lip. “I… I think so, yes. Yes,” she told him, though her heart hammered in her chest.

“We’ll take things slowly,” he promised. “Nothing you don’t want. If you want me to stop, you say so. If you—”

Bea silenced the words with a kiss. She was too nervous to talk, but she trusted he meant what he said and that was enough.

“Will you lie down with me?” he asked, breaking the kiss and caressing her cheek with his fingers.

Bea nodded, watching as he moved away, sitting on the edge of her bed and pulling off his boots. He stretched out, making it look suddenly small, his large frame dominating the space. Patting the mattress beside him, he smiled.

“Don’t be shy, love.”

Bea moved to the bed and sat down, looking at Justin. She turned away from him, hiding her blush as she bent and undid the laces on her boots. Still not looking at him, she lay down beside him, staring at the ceiling and feeling suddenly foolish.

“I’m afraid I shan’t compare to your lovers,” she said in a rush, and then wished she’d said nothing at all.

She felt sick and uncertain when he didn’t answer, and then started as his warm hand found her cold fingers.

“No, you won’t,” he said, shocking her momentarily until he carried on. “And I’ve never been gladder of anything, Bea. I wish I could shed my past like an old coat and leave it behind, but I cannot do that. So, I shall profit from it, because it has taught me to value what I have here with you. It’s rare, sweetheart, to be happy in a marriage, to be in love. If I were young and innocent, I might not realise how easy it is to take that for granted. I might not tend to that love with the attention it needs, because I’d be careless with it. I won’t be careless with you, Bea, I won’t ever take this feeling for granted.”

Bea turned to face him, reaching for him as his arms pulled her close and he kissed her, holding her to him. Bea reached up, caressing his face, smiling as her chilly hands made him shiver. He turned her onto her back, and she sighed as some of his weight pressed down on her, though he was careful, holding himself over her as he kissed her, and his hand wandered. Her breath came faster as his palm glided up her side and cupped her breast. Though there were layers of fabric and corset between them, her skin burned where he touched her, the longing to feel his skin against hers sudden and urgent.

She tugged at his neck, pulling him down, kissing him harder, startling a smothered laugh from him that might have been embarrassing if not for the tortured groan that followed. He settled between her legs, the fabric of her riding habit too bulky, too thick, to allow her to feel his body as she longed to do… and then she heard Rachel’s voice outside her door, heard her hand on the doorknob.

“Don’t come in!” she shouted, and then buried her face in Justin’s shoulder, wondering if she would die of mortification.

“Oh… er… right you are,” Rachel called uncertainty, followed by the sound of her footsteps hurrying away.

Bea struggled to get up, untangling her skirts from Justin with difficulty.

“S-Sorry,” she said, burying her face in her hands.

Lord, what a fool he must think her. But when she looked back, Justin was grinning, his expression wicked.

“I rather like the idea of having an affair with my own wife,” he told her, waggling his eyebrows.

She let out a breath, half laughter, half relief. “You’re not annoyed?”

“Annoyed?” He looked at her with concern and got to his feet. “Bea, I will wait for you, for as long as you need, and I will never be annoyed.”

“Truly?” she pressed as he came around the bed and took her in his arms.

“Truly. Never annoyed,” he murmured, nuzzling into her hair and breathing in the scent he found there. “Frustrated, certainly. Filled with longing and desire at every moment of the day and night, but never annoyed, love. Torment me as much as you like. I can take it.”

She glanced up at him uncertainly and found nothing but adoration in his eyes.

“I won’t torment you,” she promised him. “At least, no more than I torment myself.”

“That seems fair,” he told her, chuckling.

“I… I did want to,” she said, embarrassed but needing to explain. “But the idea that Rachel, that the servants knew you were in here, during the day, and—” Bea shook her head in an agony of humiliation.

“I understand,” he told her soothingly. “There’s not a thing to explain, nor worry about. I promise.”

Bea clung to him, resting her head upon his chest. “You are the very best of husbands, Justin.”

He stilled at that, and she glanced up, finding him staring at her with a mixture of astonishment and pure delight. “Of all the words I never expected to hear in my life, those had to be at the top of the list.” He kissed her forehead. “I will endeavour to remain worthy of them, love. Now, though it pains me, I shall leave you to get changed, before I prove to us both how wrong you are.”

He let her go with obvious regret, bent to retrieve his boots, and padded to the door.

“Justin!” she called, when he was halfway out. “Thank you for this morning, for Dove, and… for everything.”

To her delight, he blew her a kiss and winked at her before closing the door behind him.

Bea hugged herself tightly, uncertain of what she was feeling aside from pure happiness.

A moment later, there was a knock on the door. “My lady?”

Bea hurried to open it, unable to hide her fiery blush as Rachel came in, giving her a direct look that demanded information.

“Well?” she said, hands on hips. “I hope he was here at your invitation, for if he weren’t…”

“Oh, Rachel, yes. Yes, he was,” Bea said, sitting at her dressing table and laughing, pressing her palms to her burning cheeks.

“I see,” Rachel said, regarding her anxiously. “You think you can trust him, then?”

Bea nodded, staring at Rachel. “I do. I know I can. I cannot explain, Rachel… at least, not all of it, but he’s not the devil we thought him.”

“My lady,” Rachel began, folding her arms and looking sceptical.

“No, Rachel. I don’t deny he’s got a terrible past, but he says that’s why he’ll be the model husband. He says he’s not young and innocent and careless of the gift he’s been given. He says that everything he’s done means he knows he must not take what we have for granted but tend it and take care of it. Isn’t that lovely?” she said with a sigh.

Rachel blinked, looking rather taken aback. “Well,” she said, letting out a breath. “I suppose I owe John an apology.”

“You do?” Bea said in surprise.

“He’s been telling me since we got here that his lordship is a good man at heart and only needed the right circumstances to bring him around. John said he’s kind and loyal, and that he only did the things he did because he was so unhappy. John says you make him happy, my lady.”

Bea grinned, feeling elated by the words. “I do,” she said, knowing it was true. “He makes me happy too, Rachel. But what else does John say?” she asked, waggling her eyebrows.

Rachel turned an interesting shade of pink and looked flustered.

“Rachel!” Bea said, getting to her feet. “Rachel, you tell me at once. Do I need to have a word with the man or—”

“He’s asked me to marry him,” Rachel said in a rush, and then clapped a hand to her mouth.

“Oh, Rachel! That’s… That’s wonderful. Isn’t it?” she added, confused by the look on Rachel’s face. “Don’t you want to marry him?”

“I… I do, my lady, only—”

“Only?”

Rachel sat heavily on the bed and looked up at Bea, her expression beseeching. “Only, I love my job. I was so lucky to get the position as your lady’s maid and… and I don’t want to give it up.”

Bea frowned, moving to sit down beside her and take Rachel’s hand. They had never had the formal relationship most ladies had with their maids. Bea had been young when Rachel had come to her and, not having a mother to guide her, she had put her trust in Rachel. She had long ago given up calling her by her last name, even before she had been sent to her uncle’s house where she’d been so unhappy. There, Rachel had been her friend and confidante, her ally, and she would never forget that. But it was usual for women to stop working such positions when they married, for the commitments of marriage and children did not sit easily alongside work that took up so much time.

“Well, I don’t see why you must. If John accepts it, you will carry on, at least until you have children. I suspect you would wish to stop then, Rachel, but we can figure things out as we go.”

Rachel stared at her and then burst into tears. “Oh, my lady. Do you mean it?”

“Well, of course I mean it, you silly goose,” Bea said, shaking her head as she hugged Rachel. “Now, stop all this blubbering. You’re going to be married! Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Yes!” Rachel said, laughing and crying at once now. “Oh, yes, my lady. Yes, it really is.”