Training Lady Townsend(22)

One could not, she was afraid, and she didn’t need her mother to tell her so. Aurelia set away the tea tray the maid had brought up, and curled into the corner of the window seat in a little ball. Thoughts of her husband crowded her brain, as they always did when she was idle. She ought to read, or sew, or meet with the steward and housekeeper to learn more about her husband’s manor, but instead she sat and puzzled over the dark, mysterious man she had married.

Was he cruel? Or kind? Did he respect her?

Did she respect him?

She pressed her forehead against the glass, her thoughts in a tangle, and then she saw Lord Townsend outside in the front courtyard, strong and broad shouldered upon his black horse. He reined the creature sideways as he spoke to another man, the head groundskeeper, she believed, although it was difficult to tell from a distance.

She watched him point here and there, and wished she could hear what he was saying. He took great pride in Somerton, that was sure, and the servants all seemed to revere their master. The neighbors had great regard for Lord Townsend too. Since they’d come to Berkshire, several of the local gentry had been by to call and pay their respects to her, the new marchioness. They’d spoken with admiration of her husband’s generosity, his fairness to his tenants, and his support of the less fortunate in the village. Apparently, one of Aurelia’s maids had a very sick mother whom Lord Townsend saw to “in all his kindness.” The girl had confided this to Aurelia with a tremor of adoration in her voice.

And so Aurelia didn’t know what to believe, except that she was the only one who realized what a perverse miscreant Lord Townsend was, and the only one made to suffer his vile whims.

Vile, Aurelia? In truth, she did not find them entirely so. Sometimes she even feared she was committing the abomination of lust. Was it abominable to look out the window and study the arresting figure of her husband, his strong thighs gripping and guiding his horse, his muscled arms rippling in the close-fitting confines of his tailored coat? Was it abominable to recognize, and appreciate, his obvious virility and the power hinted at therein?

Now he leaned closer to the groundskeeper to show him some sort of rectangular parcel. He must have gone shopping in town. He told her she might go shopping if she wished, but she wanted for nothing, and when she went among people she was forced to smile and pretend to be happily married, which was not such an easy thing.

Lord Townsend swung down from his horse, parcel and all, and handed the reins to a stable boy before striding toward the house. The groundskeeper went off to do whatever his master had ordered. Of course, it had been so in her own home as a child. The Duke of Lansing’s word was law at Lansing Grange, just as Townsend’s word was law here. It ought to comfort her to know her husband was a capable peer and not a helpless gadabout, as so many of them were. But she didn’t find it very comforting when his power and authority were exerted over her.

There was a knock, and then the sound of boots crossing her sitting room. Lord Townsend must have come directly from downstairs. She could hide here or go out to welcome him. If she hid here, he’d only come in to get her, so she decided to present herself to him instead.

“My lord,” she said in greeting.

“Aurelia.” He looked fresh and bright-eyed, his hair a bit windblown from being outdoors. He smelled faintly of horse, but more of his gentlemanly sandalwood scent. “I’ve been out to make some calls, and then into the village,” he said. “I brought you something. A gift.”

The rectangular parcel was for her, then. It was rather wonderful that he’d thought to bring her something, and the way he smiled...broadly and with pure delight. Before she could look more closely at her gift, he hid it behind his back.

“I should ask first if you are a squeamish sort. Do you like insects?”

Aurelia gaped at him. “No. Not very much.”

“But this one is special. Come and look.” He held it out, and she noted it wasn’t a box exactly, but a fine-mesh covered frame of polished wood. At first she thought it was empty inside, but then she saw a flutter of movement and discovered a sleek, very large grasshopper in one corner of the box.

“Oh,” she said, shocked. “It’s a cage for a bug.”

“A cage?” Her husband frowned. “It’s a habitat, not a cage. You see, the creature can move about and breathe through the mesh. You can put vegetation inside, such as wheat or barley. The shopkeeper assured me they love alfalfa. It’s meant to be a pet.”

“A grasshopper for a pet?” She peered in at the poor trapped creature. “Who would think of such a thing?”

He didn’t answer at first, only gave her a devilish look. “I keep a grasshopper for a pet. I find her rather diverting.”

Did he mean her? She felt laughter bubble up in her throat. She clamped her lips shut so the merriment wouldn’t escape, but one small giggle did anyway.

“I am not a grasshopper,” she said, trying to be sober, “at least not a real grasshopper like this one.” He had brought her a grasshopper as a gift! She wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about it. She took the cage and carried it closer to the window in the east corner of the room. They peered through the mesh together. She’d never seen a grasshopper so close up, that was certain. It was larger than she thought a grasshopper would be, with iridescent, patterned markings and delicate wings.

“Oh, they can fly,” she said. “I never realized. I thought they only hopped.”

Lord Townsend looked closer. “I’m not sure they can fly.”

“But it has wings, you see? And look at how strong the legs are fashioned. I suppose this one could hop quite far without using its wings at all. Oh, it’s a lovely thought, Townsend, but it shouldn’t be kept in a cage.”

His eyes widened above the mesh. “I believe that’s the first time you haven’t lorded me, Aurelia.”

She flushed. “Well, it’s the first time you’ve gotten me a gift.”

“I ought to have done it sooner then. If you don’t take care, you’ll be calling me Hunter soon, and acting like a fond wife.”

They stared at one another. When he smiled, how handsome he was! She didn’t know if she could ever bring herself to call him Hunter, and be so casual and intimate. As she considered the possibility, a green blur launched itself from the mesh enclosure.

Aurelia gasped. “Oh, look, the clasp’s fallen open. The grasshopper’s escaped the cage.”

“It’s not a cage,” he insisted, turning to look for the thing. “It’s a habitat.”

Then both of them dispensed arguing and set about to locate the creature. “Be careful where you step,” she said. “It would be horrible to crush it.”

“Where has it gone?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure it can jump great distances,” said Aurelia, remembering its thick legs. “And it has wings. What if it flies out of the room?”

“They can’t fly, for God’s sake. They’re called grasshoppers, not grassflyers.”

The escaped insect chose that moment to fly with a great buzzing racket across the length of the room. Lord Townsend ran after it, waving his arms.

“It’s going to go in my bed,” Aurelia shrieked. She and Townsend collided in their efforts to ward off the thing. Both of them fell, her husband guiding her atop him with a quick twist of his frame, so she was rescued from a hard crash to the floor.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

He raised and lowered his head. “I’m fine, but the grasshopper’s gone silent. I fear I may have landed on our new friend.”

“Oh, no.” Aurelia hoped it wasn’t so. “It’s terrible luck to kill a grasshopper in your home.”

“I’m going to turn over and you must look beneath me for the guts, my dear.”

She was about to protest that she couldn’t possibly do such a thing. To locate a smashed grasshopper beneath her husband? But then she realized he was laughing. He tumbled her up and over so he was in the superior position over her.

“You were teasing about smashing it,” she said, blushing.

“I haven’t smashed it, I’m sure. It’s too quick for us.”

“What will become of it, loose in the house?”

His laughing gaze turned tender. “Are you afraid for it, my love? How quickly you grow attached. We shall have to get you a proper pet. A kitten or puppy would be more cuddly than a grasshopper.”

She blinked, remembering long ago scolding and reprimands. “We always had pets at home, but I was never permitted to cuddle with them.”

“Nor sprawl about on the ground having picnics. I remember. But you are sprawled on the ground now, or on the floor anyway. What a naughty girl you are.” Her eyes widened as much at his tone as his provocative expression. “Speaking of naughty, how is your bottom today?”

“It’s very well,” she assured him, to no avail. He was already pushing her onto her stomach, right there on the floor, and pulling her skirts up. She tried in vain to resist him and push them back down. “What if a servant walks in?”

“Then they shall also see how your bottom is.” He put a hand on the small of her back to stop her squirming. “Let me look. You know where resistance will get you.”