Chapter 25
Hermy chuckled when she climbed into the carriage carrying a hat box. “So this is how it feels when your fiancé brings you home to meet his family?”
“There are so many of them,” Greg gave a wistful smile. “But, yes, they’re family.”
“Can you imagine the chaos when we have a baby?”
Greg’s mouth fell open, but Hermy didn’t seem to notice and babbled on. “I mean, just imagine Lizzie with her frilly dresses, Rachel with the lovely perfumes from Paris, and Hannah with all the rules of propriety and what children need and oh dear, what have I gotten into?” She beamed, oblivious to Greg’s shock.
“I see it before me: Hannah rolling the cradle to just the right spot of dim light at the window, Lizzie setting up layers and layers of lace to ensure the baby is lying on only the softest of silks, and Rachel brewing some tea to bring in the breast milk.”
“B-breast milk?” Greg couldn’t keep up with her family planning.
“She’s a big believer in nursing your own child. I’ve never thought about it, but it does make more sense than hiring a wet nurse. Hannah said it doesn’t hurt once you get used to the suckling.”
“She told you that?” Greg’s eyebrows rose so high he wasn’t sure he could lower them.
“Oh yes. But Rachel has some ointment from Switzerland with fat from sheep, lanolin with calendula. It’s alright if it stays on the nipple and the baby swallows some, but it helps the healing in between feedings.”
Words failed Greg.
“Anyhow, the seamstress will be there sometime tomorrow. Lizzie will send for her in the morning. She’s French, you know.”
“Who?” Monosyllabic words seemed the best language for grooms. Greg remembered Fave and Arnold, they were rather tight-lipped during wedding planning and after the wedding, they disappeared for a few weeks. Come to think of it, Fave only emerged from his and Rachel’s bedroom when she had morning sickness. Arnold and Hannah were in their cabin on the schooner during the entire passage to America and made the boat rock more than the waves of the Atlantic. He’d rather not think about Lizzie and Caleb, but he had a pretty good idea.
“Did you only talk about sex with the girls?”
“They already know about our past, Greg. None of them pretended that I was going to be a virgin bride.”
“Ehm…” She was so happy and bubbly that his heart filled with lightness, and he wanted to sweep her up and kiss her.
“They’re not so hypocritical as to feign coyness. They are wonderful,” Hermy said dreamily.
“You were skeptical at first.”
“Yes, I was wrong.”
“So…”
“I changed my mind.” She shrugged and he couldn’t help but smile.
“Just like that?”
“No!” She gave him a friendly slap on the arm. “We talked it through and came to a marvelous conclusion.”
His head was spinning with fears of what Lizzie, Rachel and—oh no!—Hannah “talked through” with his fiancée, and even worse, the conclusions they’d reached.
“Tell me.”
“We can finally have fun. I’ll seize the sword and make my voice heard.”
“You sound like a bluestocking.”
“Perhaps I am. If the Jews deserve a voice in parliament, perhaps women do, as well.” She lifted one shoulder and blinked at him as if she’d made the most seductive plans.
And Greg liked it.
Weak men feared strong women. He wasn’t one of them, the Black Knight.
“That’s why I got a little something here.” She patted the round hat box beside her. Why did she say that with such mischief?
“A hat?”
She winked. “It’s a hat box.”
“For fun?” Greg knew to tread carefully. She was so excited, happier than he’d seen her since she’d arrived.
“Madame Giselle left an array of the latest Parisian fashions with the others, and they let me pick a few things. I’ll have to pay Madame Giselle when she comes to my fitting tomorrow.”
“The seamstress?”
“The modiste. Her seamstress will arrive ahead of time to take my measurements.”
“For…”
“My wedding gown and new wardrobe. Or do you want the future Countess to wear her dreadful country dress indefinitely? I never finished my fitting when Sofia was there.”
Greg didn’t know whether to smile or run. She was already outfitting herself.
“I’ll have to reimburse you once I have access to my fortune. Could you keep careful accounting of my spending in the meantime, please?”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“I will do no such thing. Are you trying to insult me?”
She jerked her head back and furrowed her brow. “I need to look the part if you’re going to parade me around London, Greg. I’m the fallen girl, and they expect me to look terrible. The others and I decided to spite them all and to make me look my very best. I cannot look my best in this old thing.” She tugged at the hem of her gown.
“I will parade you around like a proud peacock, and you can wear whatever you want. But I will never accept reimbursement for paying for my fiancée’s expenses, much less for my wife. Is that clear?”
Hermy’s frown gave way to her gorgeous smile, bright white teeth, and sparkling eyes. “You can be rather sweet for someone who’s feared as the Black Knight.” She tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her ear and was just too adorable not to kiss.
“Don’t ever tell anyone that!” He leaned toward her.
“I never give away my secrets.”
“What about what you have in the hat box?” Greg whispered when he scooted closer to Hermy in the carriage.
Hermy winked again. “It’s so wicked, I shan’t say.”
“Will you show me?”
“Play for it and I might.”
Hannah had saidthat the lingerie worked like a charm, but she hadn’t told Hermy it wasn’t even necessary to put it on to make it work. Being alone in the carriage in the dark of night felt like they were in a balloon gondola suspended over the mountains with nobody to disturb them.
“E4 takes your white pawn on f4,” Greg rasped.
“King’s gambit accepted?”
“Hm-hm.” He nuzzled her neck, and she tilted her head to give him access.
“Knight g5.”
“You can take any pieces I have.” Greg took her earlobe between his teeth. A cool chill mixed with pleasure rippled through her and she nearly yelped.
“I’m not going to let you kick the White Knight and renew the threat of Queen h4,” Hermy said.
“I’d do anything to see the white queen. Will you show me the French things in the hat box?” Greg pleaded, bringing his hand to the small of her back and fumbling with the buttons on the back of her gown.
“You just want to see them in the box?” She pushed him aside and reached for the round container. “Here.” Hermy opened the leather strap and the brass buckle clinked when she detached the top of the box. She could tell Greg was reluctant to let her go but she knew he was curious and would look.
He blinked.
Again.
Then he narrowed his eyes.
“It’s very dark in here,” he said as he reached into the box and produced some sheer muslin with lace edges and the most delicate embroidery Hermy had ever seen.
“Careful, the embroidery is made with Chinese mulberry silk.”
“Is this a veil?” Greg asked, trying to find the beginning or top of the garment. Hermy wasn’t sure whether he was joking, for surely he must have had mistresses since…
“Greg, can I ask you something?”
“Always.” He turned the garment upside down. “That’s not right.”
“Have you … I mean … since we…”
He dropped the fabric and looked at her. “Why do you ask?”
“I haven’t,” she admitted.
“Good.”
“Why?”
“Because neither have I.”
“Ever?”
“I have found release, if that’s what you’re asking. I haven’t looked, nor have I ever found love.” He spoke with certainty like a man who’d found it now.
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“For men it does. It’s like … imagine you’re hungry and you get a bucket of apples. If you eat them, you’ll be full. But will you be as satisfied as if you’d had pheasant, quiche, and pear compote? No!”
“I don’t like your analogy. I didn’t ‘eat’ anything, nor am I a stuffed bird.”
“Then you must be starving.” He gave a crooked smile down her cleavage. “I know I am.”
The impossible rake who’d stolen her heart all those years ago apparently still had a firm hold of it.
“I want to make you starve right now.” She wasn’t angry exactly because she had no right to be jealous, but it seemed that she didn’t need the right to be jealous to be awash with the sentiment.
“Well, nobody ever wore something like that for me,” Greg said, dropping the lingerie back in the hat box. “We’re almost home, can you show me where the top and bottom on this thing is?”
“Why do you need to know?” She tasted the danger crackling in the air as she spoke the words.
“Because I need to orient my next attacks.” And with these words, he pressed his mouth onto hers. Devoid of any reason to protest, Hermy responded, wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in. She finally had her Black Knight, and she gladly let him conquer her.