The Last Duchess (The Lennox Series)(67)

Hester listened to their plan of retiring early and had such a look of knowing in her merry, blue eyes that Jane blushed furiously. Naturally, Blixford noticed, and as they followed the chattering housekeeper up the stairs, he whispered, “I may become adept at mind reading, Duchess.”

“Behave!”

She quickly became aware that they didn’t have adjoining rooms, that there were none among the six bedchambers. They would share the largest room, as well as the dressing room. The traveling coach had arrived over two hours prior to their arrival and his valet and her maid had already unpacked their trunks. Jane found it oddly, warmly intimate, their brushes and bottles and such resting side by side upon the dressing table.

She believed, from the look of surprise on Blixford’s face, he’d expected her to be situated in another room, but he said nothing. She wondered if he would have her things moved? Surely staying with her in the same room would bring a sense of warmth and intimacy to their marriage, even if only for a fortnight, that would severely threaten his determination to keep her at a distance. Thinking of Lucy’s counsel, Jane decided if he asked her maid to remove her to another room, she would protest.

Hester said in her happy voice, “A Mr. Hopping built this house from money he earned as a purveyor of small boats. It’s said he was a fine craftsman and his boats were beautiful and sturdy. You’ll notice a nautical theme in some of the furnishings, the ones that remained with the house through the years, and the balustrade is a series of carvings representing sailor’s knots. Out beyond the wilderness is a small lake, which Mr. Hopping liked to use to test his boats. Those that failed are still resting at the bottom of the lake.” She smiled and nodded, her hands folded across her ample midsection. “There are two there that didn’t fail, that have been kept well over the years. Perhaps His Grace will take you about in one tomorrow.”

“That would be lovely,” Jane agreed, already thinking she’d love to learn to row. She glanced at Blixford and her heart skipped a beat. He stared at her. He looked . . . hungry. Doubtful he’d heard a word of Hester’s house history, but then, he would already know all of it. She quickly returned her gaze to the housekeeper and smiled politely.

“Well, then,” Hester said with a wide grin as she walked toward the door, “you’ve only to ring when you’re ready for supper. In the meantime, I’ll just have Polly and young John bring up your bath and light the fire. It’s been a nice, warm day, but sunset will bring a chill.” She chuckled and looked at each of them. “You’ll have to argue amongst yourselves as to who may go first. When you’re done, ring and fresh hot water will arrive.” She left in the midst of Jane’s thank you and closed the door behind her.

As soon as the latch clicked, Blixford swept her into his arms and bent her backward, kissing her with as much desire as though they’d been parted for weeks, as though they hadn’t made love to one another a scarce few hours ago. Insatiable, indeed.

Jane decided she was equally so, her arms about his neck, her fingers tangling in his silky hair. All their talk of imagination had set her to yearning for him again and she made no protest when he reached for the skirt of her habit and jerked it up to thrust his hand between her legs.

“Jane, you astonish me.” His fingers moved greedily within her as he raised her upright and urged her backward, until her thighs bumped the bed.

Dropping her arms, still kissing him, she felt her way across the fastenings of his fall, quickly releasing it, then deftly unbuttoning his riding breeches. As he had done with her, she daringly reached for his privacy within his drawers, shoving them out of the way that she could grasp his shaft, impressed all over again, and fearing him not at all.

“’Tis a bold one, you are, wife.”

Before she could say a word, his hands wrapped about her waist and he lifted her up to set her upon the mattress, then none too gently pushed her backward before he reached for her booted ankles and lifted her legs to either side of his waist. He quickly hitched her skirts up and moved close to the bed, his gaze upon hers when he thrust inside of her, filling her quickly before withdrawing and plunging again. The lack of pain still amazed her, made her look upon him with something close to worship. In place of pain was a feeling like nothing else in all the world, a warmth and intimacy she found infinitely appealing and addictive to her feminine soul. Her desire increased with every drive of his thick, heavy shaft and the look in his drowsy, smoldering eyes was intoxicating.

“I’ve no hope of lasting, Jane. You’re closing around me too sweetly to resist.” His smile was slow and sinful. “And I confess, doing this to you while fully clothed is very stimulating.”