More than Passion (8 page)

A small table had been set up in the room. It was beautifully set, with the candle glow reflecting off the fine china. Geoffrey pulled Becca’s chair out for her and she sat. He took the chair opposite her and reached for her hand. She felt his fingers grasp hers and kept her eyes downcast.

“What is it?”

She looked at him then, her eyes stinging. “You never should have married me. You’re an earl and I’m—”

“You’re the woman I wanted to marry. That hasn’t changed.” He stared at her for a long moment. “Don’t you believe me?”

She looked deeply into his eyes again and saw his sincerity. He’d been so sure, even as she’d wavered. From the beginning, he’d been set on making her his wife. She would borrow a bit of his confidence and believe him. Believe in herself. She smiled then, and nodded. His eyes bright, he brought her hand to his lips. They set about their wedding supper, pausing every now and then to touch or kiss.

With their meal only half-finished, Geoffrey stood. He pulled Becca up from her seat, a wicked smile on his face, and Becca’s heart raced. He wrapped her in his arms, bending his head to capture her lips. She opened up for him, welcoming his probing tongue. He groaned softly, running his fingers through her hair. Pins scattered everywhere, her thick locks loose and free.

He pulled back, running his gaze over her face. “My God, Becca,” he said in a low voice. “You’re so beautiful. And you’re mine.”

Her breath caught at the possessive gleam in his blue eyes. He kissed her again, running his hands over her back. She reached up, twining her fingers in the thick waves at the nape of his neck. He couldn’t manage to unfasten the hooks of her gown. He gave a playful growl, nibbling on her ear.

“Let us ready for bed, wife,” he said, his breath hot on her skin.

She nodded, leaving the circle of his arms to step behind the privacy screen. There she found a beautiful nightgown of lawn with delicate flowers embroidered around the scooped neck. She managed to unhook the back of her gown and carefully set it aside. The unfamiliar stays were a bit of a challenge, but she persevered. She slipped the filmy nightgown over her head, smoothing it down. Her breath caught as her fingers brushed over her breasts. She could hardly wait for Geoffrey to touch her. She ran the brush quickly through her hair and stepped out from behind the screen.

Geoffrey had already undressed. He sat waiting for her in the bed, the sheets down around his waist. He crooked a finger at her. “Come here, wife.”

She climbed into the bed and into his outstretched arms. He kissed her deeply, caressing her through the thin fabric. She rubbed against him, a soft moan escaping her lips. She pulled away from him to kneel on the bed. He looked at her, confused. She smiled and pulled her nightgown up over her head. Geoffrey swore softly and rose to his knees, embracing her.

He ran his lips over her face, her throat. He cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing across her nipples. She leaned back, reveling in the sensation. He lowered her to the bed, his mouth taking over for his hands. She arched as he teethed a taut nipple, moaning his name. He trailed hot kisses down the front of her, pausing to flick his tongue in her navel. She breathed in sharply.

She opened her legs to him. His fingers caressed her, making her wet. His head went lower, kissing the very center of her.

“Geoffrey!” She gasped, shocked. “You can’t!”

He paused, dropping a kiss on her belly. “I can.”

His mouth claimed her again. Passion blazed through her and she fell back, wanting more. His tongue drove her mad. Her climax startled her and she shuddered, crying his name. He came up to kiss her and before she stopped trembling, he entered her. He thrust into her deeply, again and again, until she tightened around him. She clung to him and found her second release. With one final thrust, he climaxed.

He stayed inside her, cupping her face in his hands as he waited for his breathing to slow. “Did you like that, sweetheart?” he asked softly.

Her eyes fluttered open. “Oh, yes.”

He smiled and rolled off her, bringing her with him to lay against his side. “There are so many ways to make love, Becca.”

“I know.”

He froze. “How do you know?” he asked sharply, a fierce frown on his face.

She picked up her head to look at him. “You told me.”

“I did? When?”

“The night I helped you into bed,” she said. “The night before Mary found me in your room.”

He smiled. “And did I show you that night?”

“No,” she said, laughing. “You fell asleep.”

He placed a hand over his eyes and groaned. “I’m never drinking ale again.”

He removed his hand from his face and flashed a dazzling smile at her. His eyes sparkled merrily.

She gazed at him, her heart fluttering. “I love you.”

His smile left his face. “What did you say?”

Becca hadn’t planned on saying it, but it was true. There was no taking it back. “I love you.”

He sat up, startling her. He held her at arm’s length and studied her face. She couldn’t begin to guess what he was looking for, but the look in his eyes was intense.

“Do you mean it, Becca?”

“Yes.”

He pulled her to him and kissed her soundly. He didn’t say the words back to her but when he began to make love to her again, she knew her declaration had been important to him.

* * * *

Geoffrey was the first to awaken and set about readying for their departure. After dressing, he called to Becca before he left the chamber. “Do you think Mary would like to be your lady’s maid? It would be nice for you to have someone familiar at Kanewood.”

Becca peeped around the screen. “That would be wonderful! I could use her help with these stays, at the very least.”

“Consider it done, then. I’ll speak to Mary and your father.”

The maid was eager to follow her friend, now her mistress, to Kanewood and went to pack her things and help Becca as Geoffrey sought out Thomas in his office.

The older man stood as he entered the room. “My dear Lord Kanewood!” he said in a booming voice. “Good morning, my lord.”

Geoffrey arched an eyebrow. “Good morning, Kingsley.” He lowered himself into the chair facing the man’s desk. “I wanted to inform you that Mary will be joining us at Kanewood in a few days. She’s to be Rebecca’s lady’s maid.”

Thomas nodded vigorously and took his own chair. “Fine, fine. Anything for my daughter.” His eyes narrowed. “She’s well worth it, wouldn’t you say?”

Geoffrey leaned forward with narrowed eyes. “What are you getting at?”

Thomas stood again and folded his hands across his wide middle, a smug look on his face. “As you know, Dr. Simon was prepared to pay to wed Rebecca.”

“Yes,” Geoffrey answered in a low voice.

“It seems to me your being an earl and all, that you would be able to pay a bit more.”

Geoffrey stood. “You won’t sell your daughter to me, Kingsley. I married Rebecca because I wished to. The very same reason she married me.”

Thomas gave an ugly laugh. “She married you because you took her to your bed.”

Geoffrey’s hands were fisted at his sides. “Don’t speak of my wife in that manner.”

Thomas went on. “Because of you the girl was ruined, along with my plans for her. I think I should be compensated.”

“I can’t believe your gall and lack of regard for your daughter. I won’t dignify your suggestion with a reply. Rebecca is worth more than any man could ever pay. It’s a shame you will never see that.”

He turned to leave when Thomas’s voice stopped him cold.

“You’d better keep her close, Kane. Otherwise, the girl might turn out like her mother.”

Geoffrey turned slowly to face him. “I don’t understand.”

Thomas curled his lip. “Her mother was nothing more than a common trollop.”

 “What?”

“I cared for Rebecca as best I could. Did my best to keep the men from sniffing around her skirts, too. You’re welcome to the trouble now. Take her. Take her and mark my words!”

Geoffrey smashed his fist in Thomas’s face, sending the man sprawling. Without another word, he turned and left.

How could a man place so little value on his own daughter? Just like her mother, the man had said. Would Becca prove to be unfaithful? He’d never give her the chance to stray as Patricia had.

And if any man dared to touch her, he’d kill him.

He’d calmed by the time he reached Becca’s old room. The servants carried her few trunks down to Geoffrey’s waiting carriage, leaving them alone in her room.

He held her close, brushing his lips against her hair. “Ah, Becca.”

“What is it?”

He shook his head, pulled back, and took her hand. “Let’s be on our way, love.”

As they reached the drive in front of the inn, they found Thomas standing there rubbing his jaw.

“Father, what happened to your face?” Becca asked, her eyes round.

Thomas fixed a dark scowl at Geoffrey and turned to Becca. “It’s nothing, girl. Just slipped. I trust I’ll see you sometime?”

He directed that particular question to Geoffrey, who nodded curtly. “We’ll stop at the inn on our way to London in a few weeks’ time.” He assisted Becca into his carriage and turned to Thomas before boarding. “Never mention what transpired in your office, Kingsley.”

He boarded and signaled for the driver, closing the door on Becca’s father and her past at the Raven’s Inn.

Chapter 9

Although the interior of the carriage was spacious, Geoffrey sat close to Becca, his long legs stretched toward the opposite seat. He looked so noble in his fine clothes. His elevated status struck her square in the face.

“Geoffrey, what will your family think of me?”

He smiled at her. “You are my countess, Becca. They’ll accept you.”

“I’ll try to be what you need in a wife.”

His eyes sparkled. “You are precisely what I need in a wife.”

She flushed and ran her hands over the skirt of her dress. She’d chosen the violet one with Mary’s assistance. “At least I look the part. Thank you again for the dresses.”

“It’s nothing, love.” He studied her for a moment. “When did you know that you loved me?”

She was struck by the vulnerability in his eyes. “I don’t know precisely. But I thought I might that morning in your room.”

“Ah …. When Mary found us?”

She shook her head. “No. The morning I came to your room when you were sleeping.”

Remembrance dawned on him, a sweet recollection of that first morning when she’d stolen into his room and stood hesitantly over his bed. He’d been afraid to breathe, certain she would vanish once he fully awoke. She hadn’t. No, she’d leaned over. She’d come closer.

“When you kissed me …,” he now leaned closer to her, “like this?”

He brushed her lips lightly, then crushed his mouth down on hers. He pressed her to him, moving his mouth to the side of her neck. He caressed her breasts through her dress and she arched toward him, straining for his touch.

“Husband?” she asked softly.

“Yes, love?” he answered, his breath hot on her skin.

“Forget yourself,” she whispered.

“What?”

“Don’t remove your boots. I can’t bear to wait.”

Grinning broadly, he happily honored his wife’s request.

* * * *

The carriage rolled on as they collected themselves and again sat on the cushioned seat. She brushed at the skirt of her new dress. “Look at these wrinkles! What will your family think?”

Geoffrey smiled. “Don’t worry. After a long trip in a carriage, wrinkles are to be expected.”

“They are?” she sounded skeptical.

“Speaking of dresses,” he added, changing the subject, “we shall have the dressmaker ready some gowns for you.”

“Gowns?”

“Yes, love. We’ll be expected to throw a ball celebrating our marriage.”

A ball? How would she host such an event? “I’ve never been to a ball, much less hosted one.”

“Surely Raven’s Inn hosted parties now and again,” he said.

“Yes,” she admitted, embarrassed once again by the menial role she’d played at the inn.  Her father never allowed her to attend, let alone preside over such gatherings. He always told her it was for her own protection. To keep her safe from unwanted advances.  But it made her feel as though he were ashamed of her. 

“Don’t fret. My mother possesses vast experience at throwing the most wonderful bashes. I’m most certain she’d be very pleased to take over the task, tutoring you in the process.”

“Do you think so? I so want your mother to like me.”

He took her hands in his. “How could anyone not like you?”

She felt a flush creep over her cheeks and dipped her head. “Tell me about your mother.”

Geoffrey leaned back, still holding her hand. “Well, my father passed away two years ago, so her mourning period is over. Lady Margaret loved him dearly, but she’s enjoying getting out again,” he said.  “You’ll like her, Becca. You’re a lot like her. You both have hearts as big as the ocean.” He paused, a half-smile on his lips. “I daresay she dotes on me shamelessly.”

Becca stroked his cheek. “Who could blame her?”

He kissed her hand and settled back against the seat.

“What of the rest of your family?” she asked.

“My brother, John, and his wife live at Kanewood, as well. John is one year younger than me, twenty-seven. They have a little girl, Ann. She’s three years old. John and Patricia are constantly out and about, at one function or another. They rarely see her.”  He was quiet for a moment.

Becca could feel the tension in Geoffrey when he spoke of his brother and sister-in-law. She wondered what was behind it. “Will they be at Kanewood now?”

Geoffrey shook his head. “No. They’re in London for the Season. The child remains at Kanewood.”

“Well, I am definitely looking forward to meeting your mother and little Ann.” She beamed at him.

He turned to her and couldn’t help but return her smile. “They’re going to love you, just like I ….”

“Just like you … what, Geoffrey?” she asked hesitantly.

“Just like I know they will.” He cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation.