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Authors: Shelley Munro

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BOOK: Mistress of Merrivale
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“Would you like to take a turn around the garden? We could wander along the banks of the stream. The path is smooth and the moon is almost full. We won’t require a lantern.”

“I’d like that very much.” Jocelyn pushed aside her plate, indicating readiness even though disappointment followed his suggestion. She’d thought he might whisk her off to his chamber. Masking her emotions with the ease of long practice, she smiled at her husband. It was odd interacting with him. She was acutely aware of him physically, yet he was essentially a stranger.

He stood and helped her rise, attentive and gentlemanly. He was like his cousin in that respect, although she’d never experienced this level of longing with Melburn. Mr. Sherbourne led her from the dining room. They exited the manor via the double doors that opened out onto a terrace.

Full darkness had fallen while they dined and, despite the moonlight, shadows loomed in parts of the garden. To their right, a loud rustling commenced, and Jocelyn jumped, moving closer to her husband in a silent request for reassurance.

“It’s only a night creature—a hedgehog or similar.”

“Whatever it is, I hope the creature doesn’t decide to scuttle over my feet. The outdoors looks very different at night.” Tree branches stretched out like naked limbs, leaves rustled and other mysterious sounds, scratches and creaks, made Jocelyn doubt she’d want to wander alone after dusk.

“This way,” Mr. Sherbourne said, leading her confidently down the steps into the night.

Away from the house, it was easier to see the stars studding the black sky and the moon hanging overhead, huge and bright. The scent of roses and a hint of lavender filled the air, mixing with her husband’s bay rum. Somewhere in front of them, a night bird called a sharp warning. She started and Mr. Sherbourne laughed.

“Just a bird,” he said.

“There aren’t any ghosts hanging around the manor?” Despite the lovely evening and his presence, a preternatural nippiness kept her glancing over her shoulder.

“None that I know of,” he said. “But the servants will tell you of ghosts and spirits wandering the moors. Witches and goblins and even the odd dragon.”

“Now you’re trying to scare me.”

A rusty chuckle came from him. “I was aiming for romantic. Don’t most women enjoy a romantic tryst with their husbands?”

“Yes.” Jocelyn sensed he was trying to put her at ease. He wanted her to feel happy in their marriage. The knowledge soothed her dread, and she pressed closer, her reservations about Arabella fading under his attentions. “I’ve heard it said a kiss adds to the romance.”

He stopped abruptly and turned to face her. Shadows screened his face, making her guess at his expression. Her pulse beat a little faster. He cupped her face, and lowered his head until his breath warmed her lips.

“Mr. Sherbourne.” She laced her hands behind his neck and rose on tiptoe to reduce the inches separating them. Their lips met, tentatively, then with decadent warmth. Heat and sensation darted along her veins, and she pressed against his chest, straining to move as close as possible. Her breasts brushed his vest, shooting awareness, yearning through her body.
Proof
. This area of their marriage wouldn’t prove a problem, despite the contrasting unease fluttering in the pit of her belly.

“Leo,” he said and trailed a finger down her cheek. Then he tugged lightly on a red curl that lay against her collarbone—a tender gesture that rocked her to her toes. “Come, let us walk off our dinner.”

By common consent, they ambled along the path hand-in-hand, the silence companionable, thoughts of ghosts fading far from her mind.

“I peeked in on Cassandra earlier. She’s beautiful.”

“She can be a bit of a handful, at least when she is feeling well.”

“We’ll get along fine,” Jocelyn said. “You don’t need to worry about your daughter. I will care for her as if she’s my own.”

 

“Thank you.” Leo wanted to place his faith in her words but intended to reserve judgment. Time would tell. At least Jocelyn’s presence would stop Hannah’s constant attention. His new wife brought hope to Merrivale Manor, something he hadn’t felt for a long time. He shot her a quick glance. Lust too. The instant he’d stepped into her chamber tonight, he’d wanted to strip off her green gown and explore her luscious body. He’d badly wanted to discover if freckles, like the ones on her face, covered other parts of her torso. Even now, he fought the urge to drag her to a private spot, to ravish her until her beautiful blue eyes darkened with passion.

The waiting since their nuptials had been difficult, yet he didn’t regret the lost opportunity. She deserved time to become used to him. Her light floral scent teased him, and he sent her a grin. “I’m having trouble keeping my hands off you.”

“Oh.” She paused, the subdued lighting not hiding her expressive face. Her lips curved upward. “Good.”

A bark of laughter escaped him, and he hugged her, enjoying the way she relaxed in his embrace. “Not many women would react that way.”

“Which is why men seek out mistresses, I presume. I’d much rather you wanted me than another woman.”

“I don’t have a mistress.” Melburn had mentioned her no-nonsense nature. Leo found her practicality intriguing, and when he compared her with Ursula—

He broke off the thought abruptly, angry at himself for letting his first wife soil what should be a special evening. “I’ve no intention of taking another woman to my bed.”

“Other men do it.”

“My first wife took many lovers during the course of our marriage. I didn’t like it and won’t accept disloyalty of that nature in you or myself.” Leo resumed their walk, requiring motion to rid himself of painful memories and betrayal.

“I’m sorry.”

“I want you to feel free to make changes in the manor. I believe there is more furniture in the attic. Mrs. Green will know.” The shift of subject wasn’t exactly adroit, but recollections of Ursula brought fury and regret for allowing his heart—lust—to rule his mind. One mistake and he was still paying. He wouldn’t make the same errors with this marriage.

Jocelyn nodded with enthusiasm, dragging his focus back to the present. “I thought I’d give the rooms themes. What do you think of cherubs for the main reception room? Maybe rename it the Greek room.”

“Cherubs?” Leo barely restrained his shudder of horror. The ones Ursula had placed in her chamber gave him nightmares. “Ah, if that’s what you’d like.”

Her throaty chuckle brought him to a halt. “I wish I could see your face more clearly. Your voice…” She trailed off, laughing without restraint.

Leo’s brows rose, and he found himself smiling at the joyful sound. “I can see I’ll have to watch you.”

“Yes, Leo.”

With a lighter heart, he guided her past the maze.

She glanced at the opening between the hedges. “I heard there was a murder.”

“Yes.” Damn, he should’ve guessed the staff would gossip.

“I thought the maze was difficult to navigate?”

“It is. I’d rather not talk about murder. Not tonight.” The challenge of the labyrinth pointed the finger squarely at him. The local authorities had already mentioned this fact. He’d have to be careful or he’d find himself implicated again.

She heeded his strong suggestion, and they strolled in silence, the bubble of the stream and the croak of a frog providing background music. Leo guided her along the loop path and soon they found themselves back on the terrace. “I find myself longing for privacy.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve half a mind to spank you, just to draw a line, you understand. I can’t have you teasing me about cherubs.”

“No, Leo.”

“No, you’re agreeing or no to spanking?” Damn, he found he liked the coquette in her manner. A spear of lust struck his loins. He wanted her naked, under him, over him. He cast her a considering glance while wondering if she’d take his cock in her mouth.

“I’ve heard rumors of men and women who enjoy giving and receiving a spanking.” Moonlight highlighted the mischief dancing in her eyes.

“And what conclusions have you drawn regarding the reports?”

“I think I’d like you touching my bottom.” A tiny smile played on her lips, impish in nature and one he found intriguing.

The more he came to know this woman the better he liked her. It meant he could let his guard down and simply enjoy the evening instead of feeling as if he’d wandered into a Dartmoor quagmire. His strides lengthened, his pace quickening until she was trotting at his side.

“Leo! Could you slow down?” Her breath came in rushed pants, her chest rising and falling rapidly, drawing attention to the plump curves of her breasts and a cinnamon freckle that sat a scant distance above the fabric of her bodice. “You don’t want to fatigue me this early in the night.”

Leo ripped his gaze off the freckle, and with a chuckle, slowed to scoop her into his arms. Jocelyn let out a squeak of surprise and clutched his shoulders. “This way is faster.”

“Why did you suggest a walk, if you were eager for privacy?”

“I didn’t wish to appear uncouth.” Honesty from him, once again. Hell might freeze over.

“I’m a good judge of character. It’s a skill I had to learn to survive.” She stroked his cheek, a gesture of tenderness. “Besides, I wouldn’t travel all the way to Dartmoor if I feared you.”

“I’m glad you’re here.” Another truth. Already Jocelyn’s presence had lightened the tension wrapped around the manor. Cassie would love her, as long as Hannah didn’t try to interfere. Leo set Jocelyn down to close the terrace doors before sweeping her off her feet again and hurrying up the stairs to his chamber. He shouldered the door open and shoved it shut once he’d entered.

A maid had already turned down the bed and lit several candles. He glanced down at Jocelyn and couldn’t hold back his amusement at her impish grin and pink cheeks. The candlelight illuminated her hair, making it glow like fire.

“I like it when you smile.” She traced his lips with her fingertips. “You should do it more often.”

“There hasn’t been much happiness about recently.” Damn, that wasn’t what he wanted to say. Her honesty was having a bad effect on him.

But instead of pursuing the opening he’d given her, she nodded. “Are you going to put me down?”

“I suppose I must.” Her enticing scent made him think of sunshine and lazy summer days. And that single freckle—it was sending him toward madness. He let her slide down his body, his cock reacting in a predictable manner given the friction of clothes and supple limbs. God, he wanted her. He’d desired her from the moment he’d seen her in London. She wasn’t beautiful but her glorious red hair and sparkling blue eyes were mesmerizing. She’d charmed Melburn and hearing his cousin talk about her had raised both his curiosity and a sense of longing. A woman who garnered his cousin’s loyalty was someone he’d wanted to meet. “Do you know what I’d like?”

She tilted her head to one side and bestowed him with a mysterious feminine smile. For once the sight didn’t send alarm shivering through him. “Should I disrobe?”

“You read my mind.” Leo kicked off his black shoes and shrugged out of his jacket. With deft fingers, he unbuttoned his vest and set that aside too. He tugged his shirt from his breeches, dispensed with it and settled on his bed. His gaze fastened on his new wife, who’d watched him the entire time. “I’m ready now.”

“You’ll need to help me with my buttons.”

Hell, in his hurry he’d forgotten the difficulty of women’s attire. “Come closer.”

Obvious humor lit her face, and she glided toward him, all feminine elegance and subtle flirtation. A confident woman. And so far, she seemed to have integrity. His former wife had never understood there were times when honesty achieved more than falsehoods.

Irritation seared him then, and he forced his mind to Jocelyn. She flirted with her eyes, the sinuous sway of her body. Slowly, she lifted her hands, the graceful rise snaring his attention. She plucked a jeweled comb from her hair and started on the concealed pins. Mesmerized, he watched their removal. Then his gaze met hers and held, the heavy pulsation of sensual awareness humming between them. Jocelyn removed the final one and down the heavy mass toppled.

His breath caught at the sight. Long fiery locks danced around her shoulders and halfway down her back when she moved closer to his four-poster bed. His hands clenched as he imagined winding the curls around his fingers. They’d feel silky to his touch, and if she knelt in front of him, took his shaft into her mouth…

A shudder racked his frame, his mind shaping the scenario, his hands gripping her hair, controlling her movement while she sucked his cock. Suddenly his breeches were far too tight. He cleared his throat without taking his attention off her. She sashayed up to him and angled her back for him to unfasten her gown. To his chagrin, tremors shook his hand when he reached to deal with her buttons. He tightened it to a fist and, this time, it held steady when he unclenched his fingers.

Soon the silk gaped away from her body. Her eyes danced with a provocative note when she glanced over her shoulder.

He drew a sharp breath. His new wife was a bloody witch, captivating him with a look. “Do you intend to tease me all night?”

“No, it would be difficult not to taunt myself at the same time.”

BOOK: Mistress of Merrivale
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