Trials of Artemis Page 14

  “But how did you know they would purchase this mine?”

  “I ran across an article on the mine and thought that it fit the profile of previous W.T. acquisitions.” She counted the items off with her fingers. “In a cash poor position, running losses for more than three years, likely to be quite profitable with proper management since the vein seems far from played out, and, the clincher as far as I was concerned, reported abuses of the workers.”

  Gideon sat back in his chair. “You arrived at this by reading one article?”

  She shrugged. “Or perhaps by reading many articles and noticing a particular pattern. I’ve become more interested in both speculation and long-term investments. Since it has worked out, this prediction allowed me to do both. It will be at least two years before the stocks turn a profit.”

  “When your father gave you those fifty pounds he created a monster, didn’t he?”

  She laughed. “Perhaps. It’s diverting and probably something he wanted me to do instead of racing curricles. He gave Sam fifty pounds to invest when she turned twelve but I think she's lost it all now. I'm not sure as she won't talk to me about it."

  "If she were wise she would have had you invest it as her financial advisor."

  Jack looked at her husband in surprise at his compliment. He seemed at ease behind his desk, not aware that he had said something at all unusual. She searched her mind to pick the thread of the conversation back up. "My little sister can be surprisingly stubborn when it comes to certain things. She wanted to follow her heart, not the advice of her analytical older sister."

  "And her heart proved fallible?"

  "Don't they all?” Jack asked.

  Gideon laughed. "My wife seems cynical for one so young."

  Jack set her paper down again. "I'm observant. When you observe the human condition you can't help but to notice patterns."

  "And what other patterns have you seen?"

  "Some men engage their wives in conversation just to stare at their bosoms," she said tartly, snapping the paper back up in front of her. Hiding behind the columns of numbers she smiled in delight that her husband was looking at her with such interest.

  "In my defense,” he said, his voice lowering, “that's a very fetching dress."

  "I'm glad you like it," she said from behind the paper.

  "And you were breathing."

  She peeked over the top of the paper. "I'm likely to do that for the rest of my life so you had best get used to it, or you'll find yourself ogling me at dinner parties."

  "I thought you didn't like dinner parties."

  She laughed. "Beside the point."

  "And what happened to your fear of losing me?" he said, his voice plaintive.

  At that she laughed even more. Setting his paper aside, he crossed to join her on the couch. "I see, it's funny now is it? I'll give you something to laugh about." He carried out his threat by tickling her sides until she shrieked and squirmed completely off the furniture and onto the floor. He followed her down, stretching his length atop hers and brushing her hair back from her flushed cheeks. "See what comes of laughing at me?"

  "Yes, Giddy,” she said, breathless from her giggling, “I see very well."

  His brows knit together in irritation. "You know I hate that nickname."

  She hooked one arm over his neck and stroked his cheek with her other hand. "I can't help it, sometimes you make me feel giddy."

  He looked at her dubiously and she sighed, raising her lips to his own. "I love you, Giddy."

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  At Jack’s words her husband became almost rigidly still. She teased his lips but it was a moment before he started to respond and when he did it was tentative at best. She knew that he would need time to become accustomed to this thought so she applied herself to distracting him with her body. At long last he sank into the kiss, palming one of the breasts he had been ogling, proving that the dress was indeed cut low by slipping two fingers under the fabric to tease her nipple. She moaned deep in her throat and spread her thighs under her husband's weight, hoping that he would accept her wordless invitation. He thrust once against her clothed body, enough for her to feel the bulge of his erection against her dampening center, then he pulled the bodice of her dress off her right breast and set himself to laving and nibbling at the globe. His other hand was making its way under her skirts when there was a brief knock at the door and it opened, only to be closed after a brief gasp.

  Jack laughed. "We really need to learn to lock the door."

  Gideon pushed himself up on his elbows to look down at her with a wry grin. "I doubt we need to worry about Mr. Gladstone entering unannounced anymore."

  "He couldn't really see anything from the door."

  "You're saying we need to be even more concerned about Mr. Gladstone since he hasn't see anything yet?"

  She laughed. "Of course not!"

  "I worry about you, Lady Harrington."

  "As well you should."

  He gave her breast one last kiss before pulling her bodice to rights. "I suppose we should save this for tonight in our bedroom instead of mid-morning in the study."

  She twirled his hair in her fingers. "I suppose."

  They lay there for a moment, forest green eyes to sapphire blue ones, contemplating this new plateau in their relationship. Then Gideon stood and offered his wife a hand up. Once standing she smoothed her dress and he moved back to his desk. Stopping at the corner, he picked up the letters she had brought. He looked over his shoulder at her with his brow raised again. "Robert Bittlesworth?"

  "Sabre asked me to send her mail to her brother's address, as you might recall."

  "But it's not to Sabrina Bittlesworth by way of Robert Bittlesworth."

  Jack sauntered over to his desk, slit open the letter, and handed it to him.

  "That's not necessary," he said.

  She shrugged. "Read it."

  He tried to hand it to her and she pushed it back at him. "Read it," she insisted. He unfolded the sheet and Sabre's letter, which was the bulk of the packet, fell into his palm. He read the brief missive to Robert, giving a lopsided smile at her signature line.

  "Satisfied?" she asked sweetly.

  He tapped the bundle in his hand. "If you discovered that I'd written a letter to a lady, say perhaps Lady Spencer from the Wynder’s Ball, wouldn't you be curious to know what was in it?"

  Jack felt herself flush. "I think I'd have a good deal more reason to wonder."

  "Do you really? You know almost the entirety of my acquaintance with Lady Spencer. I know almost nothing of yours with Robert Bittlesworth."

  She crossed her arms and tapped her foot. "Very well, I'll grant you that. But I'm not known to be a-a gadabout, spending all my time charming men."

  He set the letters aside and, putting his hands on her hips, drew her closer. "I have a good deal of reason to wonder about that. Almost every man at my club wanted to tell me how charming you are."

  She braced her hands on his chest, keeping him from pulling her completely to him. "Don't be ridiculous."

  "That's very similar to what you said the last time I brought it up. Your lack of acceptance doesn't make the circumstance any less true." He leaned forward and kissed the inside of her elbow.

  "You're being difficult," she said.

  "Difficult? How could I possibly be difficult for my wife who charms dukes and butlers with equal aplomb?"

  "No I don't," she said with a laugh, allowing herself to be pulled closer.

  "Oh yes you do," he whispered. "I can't upset you for fear of either a ducal summons or too much starch in my collars."

  "Don't be silly," she whispered back, now almost nose to nose with him.

  He leaned forward to whisper into her ear. "Only for you, Jack. I'm only silly for you."

  She giggled at that but then he was kissing her again. An aggressive mating of tongues that made her body reawaken to the possibilities of the morning. There was another knock at the door, this one shar
per and more authoritative than Phillip's had been. Gideon set her aside with a curse followed by a muttered apology, then seated himself behind the desk before calling, "Come."

  Jack smothered a smile at how frustrated he sounded and took a seat in a chair near the desk.

  Dibbs entered to announce, "Mr. Miller, my lord."

  Gideon nodded and the young man came into the room.

  Jack rose. "Perhaps I should leave you to your work."

  Gideon nodded again, then picked up her letter for Robert. "Can I add a note to this before sending it?"

  "Of course," she said.

  So, thought Gideon, this was what it meant to be married. Constantly frustrated either by his wife or by not being able to be with his wife. Perhaps it was petty and jealous to be concerned about what she might be writing to Robert Bittlesworth. But Robert certainly wasn't a bad looking man and had more self assurance than he should at twenty-four, a trait that tended to draw young women like flies whenever they would carouse together. And that might be part of it. He knew Robert and Charlie as friends to carouse with and Jacqueline knew them as friends of the family. Certainly neither of the Bittlesworths would do something untoward with their little sister's friend. Especially now that she was the Countess of Harrington. And he knew that she had been untouched coming to their marriage bed and... He was driving himself mad and he knew it. Shaking off his circling thoughts he turned his attention to his new clerk.

  Fortunately Gideon knew his Parliamentary papers well enough to take Mr. Miller on a cursory tour of them without having to think about it. Listings of the various bills in progress, tallies of the voting records and reports on anticipated voting. He explained that among the duties he expected of Miller was to act as his aide in assessing potential votes. He also had two drafts of bills that he would like to take up either at the end of this Session or the beginning of the Little Session, and suggested that Miller familiarize himself with the issues. The boy took no notes but appeared to be absorbing the information. Other things might prove frustrating, but this at least seemed to be a good decision on many fronts. If the boy proved himself competent then Gideon might even consider sending him for his letters at Oxford, something that would undoubtedly make his wife look at him as though he had conquered the Continent on his own.

  And thinking of how she might react reminded him, what did she mean saying she loved him? That was, well, it was absurd. Especially after she herself had said that hearts are always fallible. It was almost an insult to him or herself to admit to foolish feelings after making such a statement. How was he supposed to take her seriously when she contradicted herself like that? If she had been hoping to engender soft feelings in him for herself it had been a horrible tactic. What he felt was irritated and flummoxed. Hopefully she wouldn't do that again. It just muddled things that hadn't been terribly clear to begin with.

  He realized that Miller was looking at him expectantly and he hadn't said anything in awhile. In fact, he couldn't really remember the last thing that he had said. To recover he scooped up the pending bills and handed the heavy stack over.

  "There is a desk in your room, as I recall?"

  "Yes, my lord."

  "Review these in detail. We shall meet here each morning at ten o'clock throughout the week and if your progress seems adequate I will send you to London after that."

  "Preceding you, my lord?"

  "Yes, Miller. You'll do fine. Now take yourself off, I have estate business to discuss with Phillip before I take my wife to the Vicarage."

  "Of course, my lord."

  Due, perhaps, to the late start on their morning Gideon found himself working well into the lunch hour as Phillip furiously scribbled to keep up with his directives. A footman arrived with a note on a silver salver. "From the Countess, my lord."

  Furrowing his brow Gideon picked up the small envelope and tore it open.

  "Since you are working through lunch again have decided to take my meal in my room. Where I will be all alone. Naked."

  Gideon stood, crumpling the note in his hand. "Take lunch, Phillip."

  "Yes, my lord."

  He took the stairs two at a time. Entering her suite he locked the outer door and was already stripping off his jacket as he walked into her bedroom. She was tucked in the bed with the covers pulled up, hair down, arms and shoulders bare as she spooned up some of chef's berry compote. Seeing him she lounged back against the pillows and held up her hand.

  "Ah! No further. Your tray is over there by the door."

  Gideon looked to his left where she indicated and saw that another tray had been set out.

  "For each bite you take you can come closer or have me lower the sheets a bit more."

  Infernal witch. He narrowed his eyes at her. Two could play at this game. Since she hadn't said anything about his own clothing he started by stripping himself. He could tell by her widened eyes that she hadn't considered he might start there. Once naked he picked up his plate and said, "Pull down the sheet until I tell you otherwise." As he made his way through chef's goose pie which, honestly, could have been sawdust for all he noticed the flavor, he watched his wife inch the sheet down her body with each bite he took. She revealed that her chest was already flushing, her nipples already puckered with want of his attentions. Her soft belly quivered as she drew the sheet over it. He wondered if she would be too shy to pull the sheets all the way down but she didn't hesitate as he made short work of the pie and then picked up a dinner roll.

  "Stop," he said, and used small bites of roll to come across the room, stalking her like a wolf scenting a doe. He pushed aside her dinner tray and tossed the remainder of the roll onto it. Crawling over her he braced his body above her own so that they were barely touching and whispered into her ear. "Did you think to torture me?"

  Laughing she reached for him but he pulled away. "Ah," he said. "If you want to touch me there will have to be payment."

  She giggled. "I've already eaten my lunch."

  "That wasn't the payment I had in mind. I want to see you touch yourself."

  Now she looked flushed and embarrassed. "Gideon."

  He leaned closer, using his breath as a caress on her skin. "Do you want me to touch you? To be inside you?"

  She squirmed and reached for him again, but he again drew away from her.

  "You remember, don't you? From the book?"

  "Yes, I remember. Though it might be easier if you showed me."

  "No, you little minx. Show me what you remember."

  Keeping her eyes on his she ran her hands up her sides to her breasts. Watching her elegant hands play over the milky white skin and dusky pink aeuroles made Gideon's stomach clench with raging lust. She plucked at her nipples and rolled them between her fingers then ran one hand down the center of her body to the curls at the apex of her thighs. God, he was torturing himself much more than he tortured her. Her delicate fingers lightly explored her own folds, rubbing the lips and skimming over her nub. She gasped in surprise, eyes widening, and set to rubbing her index finger over that magic little button. He wanted to see if she could bring herself to completion, but his body was burning with the need to be inside her. She held out the hand that had still been teasing her nipple and said, "Please, Gideon, be with me." Oh gods, he would swim oceans to be with this woman. He came into her and she was so wet and hot and tight that his world narrowed down to their joining, the surging pleasure of body to body, sex to sex. He wasn't thinking about her pleasure or even his own. He wasn't thinking at all. As he cried out and emptied his seed into her he knew that it wasn't just sexual completion. He had given all of himself to her. Everything he was and everything he would ever be. Even though they were both gasping from the exertion he fused his mouth to hers. He needed to distract himself. He couldn't think about it, couldn't face it, whatever this was between them. He kissed her passionately, gently, erotically, in all the ways he knew until they were both distracted into a haze of sensual pleasure again.

  Chapter Twenty
-Three

  Jack finally recovered enough to say his name. "Gideon."

  He looked down at her, his face still flushed and damp from their bed sport. He seemed afraid of what she was going to say. Vulnerable. Her strong, domineering husband looked terribly, terribly vulnerable.

  She wriggled under him. "We should get dressed soon if we hope to make tea at the vicar's."

  That hadn't been what he was afraid of her saying because he laughed and kissed her shoulder. "We can't show up to tea naked at the vicar's?"

  "No, I'm thinking that would court the wrong image for me as your new countess."

  "I don't know, I like my naked countess."

  "But you don't like to share your naked countess with other men."

  That stopped him short in his teasing. "No, I don't."

  She wriggled again. "Then let me out of this bed so that I can dress."

  "In a moment." He smoothed her hair back from her face with an earnest concentration that reminded her of the expression he'd had at the wedding when sliding the ring onto her finger. Serious, yet somehow sweet. He cupped her face in his hands and studied her as though memorizing all the lines and curves of her features. At long last he kissed the tip of her nose and rolled off of her to begin gathering his clothing from the floor.

  "An earl that picks up after himself? What a novel concept."

  He smiled at her a bit sheepishly, as though she had caught him doing something vaguely naughty. How interesting that her husband could stand in that spot shamelessly naked with the confidence of Ares, but question why he was cleaning up after himself and he looked embarrassed.

  "I thought you wanted to get dressed," he complained.

  "I do," she said, stretching languidly on the bed. "But I'll need to ring for Lara and assumed you wouldn't want her to see you parading naked around the room."

  "Indeed." With that he departed and Jack summoned her maid to prepare for the trip to the vicarage. Checking her mantle clock she realized they would need to hurry.

  As Gideon guided their phaeton he looked over at his wife. She had been quiet for most of the trip, absorbed in the landscape. Kent was much different from where she grew up in Derbyshire. Kellington's lands ran to cliffs facing the Channel on the east side and to marshlands at the north. He had mostly taken her through the rolling Downs on their morning rides. This trip to the vicar's had taken them along the marsh with its oddly fetid yet sweet smell and milling sheep. Wildflowers grew along the roadway and throughout the marsh grasses, bobbing in the sea breeze. She glanced over at him and seeing him watch her she smiled. It caught at him, how dazzling she was in her pale blue dress and straw bonnet in the sunshine. He leaned down to kiss her and she laughed.