Trials of Artemis Page 11

  Gideon had gone very still. "What else did they say?"

  "One of them was of the opinion that... relations were very important to a man and that any woman who hoped to keep her husband in a marriage had best please him in bed."

  "I see."

  "I'm sorry Gideon, did I make you angry?"

  "No. In fact, would you like to hear something amusing?"

  Jack pulled back and looked up into his face. "What's that?"

  "The morning you rode hell for leather across Mayfair to face me down? I assumed the footmen had mixed up the letters and you had received the one intended for my mistress. It was her dismissal but still, what fiancée wants to hear about her future husband's mistress at all?"

  "You dismissed her with a letter?"

  "Which included a diamond bracelet."

  "Still, that seems rather cold."

  "You're defending her? How interesting. Typically I wouldn't do something like that by letter but... it didn't seem right to see her in person again since I was engaged. I wouldn't have wanted a story to get back to you about me seeing my mistress."

  Jack looked up at this considerate, complicated man who was her husband.

  "And another thing," she said, furrowing her brow. "You sent your mistress diamonds and I received yellow roses?"

  Gideon laughed and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. "You can have all the diamond bracelets you want."

  "I can run them up and down both arms?"

  "If that is your desire. Perhaps you will start a fashion."

  "A fashion that would bankrupt half the ton."

  Gideon laughed and kissed the top of her head. "Since I think I can walk again, shall we go investigate your boxes?"

  "And Justin can stay?"

  "Yes, Justin can stay. But if he grabs you again like he did this morning I won't make any promises about his continuing health."

  Jack pulled his head down for one more kiss. "Thank you, Gideon."

  By the time they entered Kellington the footmen had already taken his wife's boxes up the stairs to her room. The young man who had brought them was nowhere to be seen. Gideon summoned Dibbs over to him.

  "The boy is to be a favored guest, as he is a friend of the countess. Ready a room for him in the east wing. Have the grooms see to his horse and wagon."

  "As it pleases you, my lord."

  It didn't please Gideon at all but Jack was holding his hand and smiling up at him as though he had set the moon. Hopefully keeping the boy on the opposite end of the house would forestall any untoward behavior. He would hate to have to kill the lad.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Once in her sitting room Jack immediately fell to opening one of the crates on the floor. Seeing her struggle Gideon helped her to pry off the lid. Pushing aside the packing she reverently pulled out a long, cloth wrapped bundle. The cloth was quickly unwound and tossed aside, revealing a wooden bow. She sat on the floor running her fingers over it, and then sighting up and down the length of it.

  "No warping," she said with a sigh of relief. "I had oiled it as best I could before packing it away, but you can never be sure."

  "How long was it in storage?"

  "Twenty-six months."

  "That's a rather exact number."

  She arched a brow at him. "Send something you hold dear to Quince's house for safekeeping and we'll see how closely you track the passage of time."

  "Touché."

  "You don't have to stay if this bores you."

  "On the contrary," he said, lounging on the settee and watching her sitting on the floor with her boxes. "I find myself intrigued."

  Over the next half hour Jack continued unpacking and unwrapping her collection. That seemed like the only potentially accurate term. She had three short bows, including a recurve that she described in detail before even having it out of its wrapping, two crossbows, two staves, four swords, he wasn't sure how many knives, two tightly wound chains with a purpose he couldn’t divine, two sets of dueling pistols, a hunting rifle, and two large pistols that looked to have come from the military. He was, honestly, floored.

  "What on earth do you plan to do with all this?"

  "Get back into practice, as a start. I should probably think about having some cabinets built," she added while looking around the room. She had talked about building shelves for her books, but he realized that had been an idle comment compared to the light of purpose he saw in her eyes regarding what to do with all this. He had assumed that her passion was books but it was now apparent that those were a hobby.

  "I find it confusing that you didn't express your interest in weapons before now."

  "You don't talk about weapons," she said haughtily, "and you use them."

  "But you didn't even have weapons with you when you came here."

  She looked at him for a moment and then disappeared into her dressing room. He heard her moving items in her trunks and when she reemerged she was wearing a belt over her dress that held five sheathed knives. She was also carrying a small wooden box that she set it down on the table in front of him and opened, pulling back the fabric cover inside. "Blowgun and darts," she said.

  Gideon leaned back and looked at his wife. She was smiling and flushed with delight over her collection the way most women might be over their wardrobe. He realized that he really didn't know her that well.

  "I stand corrected,” he said, not sure if he was amused or terrified. “If you don't mind I will go back to my study and finish my work."

  "It's almost time for luncheon,” she said. “Won't you join us?"

  Gideon flinched at the thought of his wife lingering over lunch with the lad who had brought her beloved collection. "Sadly, I cannot. The Prime Minister isn't known for his patience and I must get this letter en route to London within the hour." He bowed over her hand and turned to go.

  "I'll have them send a tray in to you," she called after him.

  He stopped to look back at her. "My thanks."

  And so he left her standing in her bedroom with weapons belted over her pale peach morning dress and more weapons strewn on the floor around her. His new wife was beyond unusual. Had her parents noticed her martial tendencies? How had she managed to procure such things? Surely her father wouldn’t have purchased them for her, and she had no brothers. Archery was an acceptable hobby for a woman, but did she actually practice with the swords and guns? He shuddered to think it.

  Jack rang for her maid and sent instructions to Mrs. Gladstone that all of them would have luncheon in their rooms. She didn't want to completely curtail her friendship with Justin but she had seen the look on Gideon's face when she had suggested that they would be lunching together. Hurt and fear that he had quickly covered over with a polite mask. Although she still had more to think about in regard to Gideon she knew she didn't want to ruin what progress they had made by being insensitive. Now with free time, she began organizing her weapons in her dressing room. Mary would, no doubt, be convinced that her mistress was crazy.

  After an hour had passed she ventured downstairs to Gideon's study. She had been inside once, very briefly, as part of Mrs. Gladstone's tour of the household and discussion of cleaning regimens. This would be the first time she had approached him at his work, or at any time really. She knocked on the door before she could lose her nerve.

  "Enter," she heard him say abruptly. He was either angry or deep in his work as some could be. She slipped inside.

  Her husband was sitting at the large desk in the middle of the room. His chair was light brown leather and the entire room had a lighter, more golden color than her father's study. Tall windows looked out on the front and side of the house, framed with drapes made of an intricate golden pattern. Gideon was like a solemn dark spot in the room with his black jacket and dark brown hair. Much of his hair had worked loose of its queue again to fall over his forehead and against his cheek. He seemed focused on his work, head still down, scratching a pen rapidly over paper. She was able to study him unobserved, ta
king in his broad shoulders and handsome profile.

  "Yes?" he asked shortly without looking up.

  She leaned against the door she had entered and said, "I thought I should check to make sure you had eaten your lunch. Which I can see that you haven't."

  His head had come up at her voice and he stood immediately, as propriety dictated. She waved her hand at him. "Don’t trouble yourself. Do you mind if I look around?"

  "Of course not."

  She pushed away from the door and started browsing through the room much more leisurely than she had when following in Mrs. Gladstone's wake. It seemed her husband liked to collect things. Or perhaps his father had. A tiny reproduction of a Grecian statue here, a lacquered Oriental box there. As she continued to explore he finally sat down again.

  "How was your lunch?" he asked.

  She looked over her shoulder. "You could find out yourself if you ate yours. Did you get your letter to the Prime Minister done?"

  "Yes. After that I sent Philip to eat."

  "Yet you can't find time to eat your own food."

  "I'm not hungry. How is your... friend?"

  "Doing well enough, I assume. We can find out at dinner. I had Mrs. Gladstone send trays to all of us since you couldn't join us in the dining room for luncheon."

  From the corner of her eye Jack could see him relax a bit. As she continued her slow perusal he eventually turned his attention back to his work and she was able to study him more openly. She had been thinking about his behavior, trying to use her curiosity instead of being irritated by his capricious changes in mood. The first thing she concluded was that he was intensely jealous. That was flattering in a way, but spoke more of possessiveness than any particular affection for his wife. The other thing she noted was that he tended to be most irritating when she had made headway on getting to know him better. He didn't like letting people becoming close to him. He had no siblings and never spoke of his parents. It was possible he just wasn't used to being close to anyone. Although his staff adored him there was a barrier between them and himself. He was the earl and acted every inch the nobleman.

  Jack had made her way around the entire room. As she looked at Gideon, still bowed over his desk, she thought of her parents. When Papa stayed too long at his work Mama would always come into his study and wrap her arms around him from behind, teasing him that days had passed since the family had last seen him last. Jack wondered how Gideon would react to such a display of affection. Although it made her heart beat rapidly to consider he might not take it well, she was drawn to do it. She at least had some affection for her husband and he did work too hard. As she slipped her hands over his shoulders and across his chest to hug him she felt him tense in surprise. With her mouth now close to his ear she whispered, "Am I going to have to feed you that lunch from my hand?"

  His voice was warm and soft as he replied, "Are you afraid I'm going to waste away?”

  "I would hate for you to lose any of your strength or vigor."

  He leaned back, his shoulders pressing against her breasts. "You're concerned about my vigor?"

  "I would certainly hate for you to lose it," she whispered.

  His hand reached back to cup her head and he turned to capture her lips with his own. The kiss was exquisite, drugging. Jack could feel her body begin to tingle as his tongue teased her own. He drew back from her and asked, "Have you read the book yet?"

  "Oh yes, many times."

  "Do you have questions?"

  "Hmm..." she said speculatively. "Only...when do we start?"

  Gideon shifted and Jack suddenly found herself in his lap. This kiss was hungry, almost brutal, but after a moment of surprise she strained toward him. There was no thought of duty, or fear of losing him to another woman. This was pure, driving need. After some moments of deep, soul-drenching kisses he pulled back and rested his forehead to hers. "Philip will be here soon."

  "Lock the door."

  He laughed breathlessly. "Would you join me upstairs?"

  "Yes."

  "I'm going to take a bath before joining you."

  "I'll order it now. And one for myself as well."

  He began to kiss her again and then there was a perfunctory knock at the door followed by the sound of the door creaking open.

  "Just a moment!" Gideon called out brusquely. He said more softly to Jack while kissing her jaw, "Phillip is used to being able to walk in and out at will."

  "I told you we should have locked the door."

  Gideon set her on her feet with a laugh. "Get on with you."

  She passed Phillip at the doorway, giving the steward an embarrassed smile. She called for her maid and ran up the steps to her bedroom. What to wear? What should she do with her hair? Should she retrieve the book in case they were going to discuss it? She stopped on a landing and nearly laughed at herself. Surely they weren't going to do a recitation session on it. But still, perhaps she should have it close at hand. Would they be in her room? His room? He had said her suites reminded him of his mother and there couldn't be anything good in that, surely. Oh gods she was doing it again. Thinking. Worrying. She took a deep breath and slowed her pace.

  Chapter Eighteen

  In her suite, Jack concentrated on bathing, applying lotions and scents, then brushing her pale brown hair until it shone. Covered in a dressing gown, she went through the adjoining door to his room. He wasn't there yet. After considering her options she decided to sit in the chair near the bed. She set the book on his bedside table and immediately regretted not having brought something else to read. It was impossible to know how long he would be gone since he tended to obsess about his work. Shortly, however, she heard a sound from his dressing room and he was at the doorway, wearing a robe that fell open above the sash and toweling off his hair. She hadn't seen a man's naked torso before, and found that his book had not done him justice. He was a magnificent stallion, all thick muscle that bunched and rippled as he moved, with curling hair spread across his chest and tapering down to a point that disappeared below the loosely tied sash. She felt her mouth go dry as she stared. He pulled the towel off his head and saw her, going very still. Then a grin spread on his face. "Couldn't wait?"

  Without thought she rose from the chair and went to him. He stepped forward as well and they came together in a kiss of melting heat. His skin was warm and damp from his bath, scented with the faint lemongrass of his soap. She ran her hands over the damp hair on his chest, intrigued by it. With a soft growl he lifted her up and carried her to the bed. He followed her down onto the soft surface, his weight pressing her into the mattress. He was kissing her jaw, her throat, while his fingers worked the ties on her robe. Once the ties were loose, he looked down on her as he brushed the silk aside.

  "So beautiful," he whispered, running his fingers over the sides of her breast, her ribs, her waist, in a soft touch that both tickled and inflamed. His hand tightened possessively on her hip, his thumb stroking her side.

  She ran her hands over his chest, feeling the solid muscles quiver under her fingers. He moved down to kiss her belly and she threaded her fingers in his soft, damp hair. He moved lower still, kissing her thighs and nudging them apart. She relaxed and opened to him with a soft sigh. Although the book had given her information on the mechanics, it had been woefully short on insight into how this would feel. She was floating in a drugged haze, both reveling in what Gideon was doing to her body and somehow strangely detached from it. Then he ran his thumb along that private spot between her legs and she hissed in a quick breath, his carnal touch bringing her crashing back into the reality of her body. His tongue followed his thumb and the rush of sensation made her scramble back towards the headboard. His hands anchored her hips, and when she stopped squirming away from him he used one hand to open her more fully to his mouth. She dug her fingers into the wood over her head and tried not to scream but the heat and pleasure that bordered on pain built and built until she couldn't think, could only feel Gideon licking, kissing, stroking. He began
suckling on the nub that seemed to be at the core of sensation and she felt herself bow up from the bed as waves of pleasure thundered through her. She realized she was calling his name in a desperate chant.

  He moved up her body, kissing her hip, her belly. She was still panting and now her body was quivering in new reactions. When he reached her breasts he settled in to lick and nibble and kiss, molding the delicate flesh in his hands. His weight on her was strangely invigorating and as his lips and fingers played over her sensitive bosom she felt heat, dampness, and pressure building. She squirmed under him, running her fingers through his hair, over his shoulders. His weight on her, his touch, felt right but she knew she wanted something more. The pictures from the book played through her mind and made her think she knew what that 'more' was. Once she started squirming his mouth became more avid, his touch more intense, and that made her more desperate.

  "Gideon, please," she gasped.

  He moved up to kiss her throat, her ear, while still tweaking her peaked nipple with his fingers. "Please what?"

  "Please make love to me."

  He chuckled, "Now?"

  "Yes, now!"

  He kissed her with a powerful tenderness that had her melting into the pillows. He whispered into her ear, "This can hurt the first time."

  She whispered back, "I know."

  He smoothed his hand down her body until it found the sensitive spot between her legs again. He kissed her, keeping the rhythm of his tongue in time with the sweep of his fingers and she thought she would go mad with wanting. She pulled away from him, breathless. "Gideon!"

  He smiled and sat up on his knees, removing his robe. He was so magnificent that she couldn't breathe. She'd never thought to find a man beautiful, but he was to her. His skin was darker than her own, and covered in dark, curling hairs. His shoulders were broad and muscled, his trim belly adorned with that intriguing arrow of hair. Her eyes traveled to below his waist and she gasped.