Chapter 22
Twenty-Two
Richard’s horse topped the rise overlooking Redbridge as the sun cleared the eastern horizon and casting its rays over the frost kissed fields and forest beyond.
He reined his horse in to take in his favorite view.
Clouds moved in from the west. He did not need his old steward to tell him there would be a storm today.
What could he do inside to court Jane? Michael’s list offered no help on that score, other than talk, which was the purpose of a courtship.
She had been open to talking with him yesterday and had only flinched once.
Though in honesty it could have been a reaction to the sharp curve rather than his instinctive reaction to protect her.
He regretted getting caught up with the letters that needed to be written and not escorting his wife to her chambers last night.
He might have been able to give her a kiss on the cheek.
She had blushed when they discussed an heir, but she had not run from the room.
The situation was deucedly awkward. It might have been less awkward had he been at home on their wedding night when it was expected of any groom to enter his wife’s bedchamber, before he heard her father’s vile comments, or witnessed her flinch when he offered his hand.
Perhaps in two or three weeks, their courtship would reach the point that she could go an entire day without flinching at his touch.
They must reach at least a point of acceptance.
He would not force her. His own experience of having his hand forced and rejected taught him how demeaning it felt to have no choice in life.
Though she had agreed to his outlandish request, he still wished for her to be comfortable with their agreement.
Their outing yesterday proved that they could form a friendship, and though she had flinched, she did not find his touch repulsive.
She took his offered hand without grimacing.
Ethel had only done that as a matter of show.
Holding hands was a positive start. What could they do inside that would allow that contact?
In Town, a trip to the theater provided many opportunities to naturally hold hands. One could not over a backgammon board.
He turned his horse and headed down the hill.
Yesterday turned out better than he planned.
Instead of having to find out if she wanted a new dog or searching for the perfect one, Duke had fallen into their laps.
More specifically, hers. Richard had only vaguely thought of the process for such a gift that Michael seemed sure Jane needed.
To have the gift so easily accomplished and to see his wife’s delight with the animal was a boon.
Michael’s list may prove more of a benefit than he thought.
As he neared the stables, a dog’s bark broke the morning silence.
“Halt, Duke!”
Jane’s command had Richard reigning in his horse before he realized she spoke to the dog. He stopped not far from the dog, who now stood still at his wife’s side. Jane pulled back the hood of her cloak as she looked up at him.
“Good morning,” they said in unison.
Jane stepped back and called Duke to her. Blast, having her call the dog Duke was going to mess with his mind for a while. Of course she didn’t call him anything. Not once had Richard heard any form of address cross her lips since she dropped the ‘Your Grace,’ as he had requested.
“If you will wait a moment for me to leave my horse at the stables, I’ll walk with you.”
A minute later he found Jane where he had left her. “Why are you out walking Duke and not the footman seeing to the task?”
“I wished to walk him myself. He knows several commands, and I was curious how well he would obey.” Jane turned to the dog. “Good boy for staying.”
Duke wagged his tail as she reattached his leash and the canine walked with them down the path to the house.
“Did you sleep well?” Richard cringed inwardly at his lack of conversation.
She turned her head away. “Well enough.”
“Is there something wrong with the bed?”
“No.”
“Were you cold?”
“No.” The soft, one-word answer was barely audible.
What could be wrong? There had not been any loud noises last night. “Was there something that kept you awake?”
This time, only the slightest nod came as an answer.
“Jane.” Richard reached for her arm, and she jumped out of his reach.
She gasped and her face turned red as she stared at him wide-eyed. “I am…. I did not mean… I should…” Her stammer trailed off, and she looked at her feet. Duke circled around her wrapping her in his dog’s leash.
Though the dog may not have intended to, he kept Jane from running as she seemed ready to.
“It is I who should be apologizing. I reached for you without warning. I did not mean to startle you.” He took a small step closer.
Watching him, she did not cower. Good.
He held out his hand. “Please give me the leash so I can untangle you before Duke pulls you over.”
She handed him the leather strap. Her gloves brushing his.
She was shorter than him by enough that he could reach over and around her to unwind Duke.
The motion brought them within inches of each other.
Again, she did not flinch. Perhaps if she could see his movements, they did not bother her as much.
He reached for her hand, and she allowed him to take hers.
Duke pulled on the lead, so Richard tucked her hand in the crook of his arm so they could walk the dog together. Her hand shook slightly, from the cold or him, he could not tell.
“You said you did not sleep well, is there something I can fix?”
Jane shook her head, biting her lip as she did so. Had he not spent so long helping Michael learn to look for expressions and actions, Richard might have missed the gesture.
“What is it then?”
“I waited.”
Waited? Waited for what? He studied her face for a clue.
Her cheeks pinked, and she turned away.
Richard closed his eyes. She waited for him.
Had he not been clear about his intentions to court?
To become at least friends? Wait until his touch did not scare her?
He thought the words he needed to explain a hundred times, turning them over in his mind and polishing them.
He pictured them sitting in the parlor or in front of the fire in the library.
They had never sat there in the evening.
He had never uttered the words of explanation and his reasons for waiting to consummate the marriage.
Apparently, he wasn’t following Michael’s advice as well as he thought.
She was definitely quivering now.
“Let us go inside where it is warmer. I fear I owe you an explanation.”
Jane focused on Duke’s wagging tail as she steeled herself for the coming lecture. At least one of them was happy. Once inside, the Duke handed the dog off to a footman and asked him questions as a maid took Jane’s cloak, leaving her cold within as well as without.
The Duke turned to her and held out his ungloved hand. “Breakfast is not ready yet, however, the breakfast room fire is the warmest.”
Obediently Jane laid her hand in his, surprised to find it warm. His riding gloves must be of excellent quality. In the breakfast room, a footman hurried to move two chairs closer to the fireplace. The young man added a log to the fire and closed the door as he left.
The Duke led her to a chair, where she sat. He brought another chair close, turning it to face her. When he sat, their knees nearly touched. He held out both hands as he did when he wished to hold hers. Jane put her hands in his, mostly for the warmth on her chilled fingers. Or so she told herself.
“I am not sure how to discuss the subject.” He rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles, distracting her from the next word or two as entirely new sensations filled her.
“I assume Philippa told you of the relations between a husband and wife, and you understand there is a great deal of touching involved.”
Still distracted by the feelings swirling up her arms, Jane could only nod.
“Given your reaction to my touch on occasion, and as we did not have time to get to know each other before our nuptials, I thought it would be best if we spent some time courting before I come to your room.” Red rose from his collar, matching the heat she felt in her own face.
The Duke’s embarrassment over the intimate subject, with which he was clearly more familiar, lessened her own embarrassment, and Jane allowed herself a less cautious breath.
“I intended to speak to you of waiting for intimacy after my nap in the library. I have thought of how to approach the subject so much that I am afraid I thought I must have said all I intended to… I do that occasionally. I think on something so often that I forget I have never spoken the words out loud.” He studied her face.
Jane knew she should respond, but she was not sure how to, so she nodded.
“If your sister were here, she would tell me I should have asked you if waiting was what you wished as well.” He continued to rub his thumb, only now in slow circles. “Do you think my plan is wise?”
The fire was much too warm. She was far too warm. “Phil — I mean—” She remembered he did not mind the slip. “—she said it would be easier if—” easier if I did not have to speak! “—if—” just say the word! “—I liked your kisses.” Jane exhaled. An odd relief, mingled with anticipation, filled her.
The Duke stood, drawing her up with him.
So close were their chairs that she was pressed quite close against him.
He transferred her hands to one of his. He raised the other hand to her face, his eyes never leaving hers.
When he ran his knuckles down her cheek, she had no desire to flinch.
His lips parted in a slight smile. The swirls inside her that had been her companion since he started ministering to her hands sped up.
She knew when their lips touched, the swirls would reach the intensity of the whirling dervish she once read about.
He lowered his head, but instead of pressing his lips to hers, he pressed them to the top of her head.
“My dear Jane.” His breath tickled the fine hairs about her forehead.
The whirls twirled faster, but she knew there could be more. Bravery and curiosity helped her look up so she could find the more.
The door to the kitchen opened, and a maid entered, nearly dropping the tray as she stopped.
Jane tried to step back. Instead, she fell into the chair behind her.
“I am sorry, Your Graces.” The red-faced maid curtsied and stepped back.
The Duke, no, Richard, he had almost kissed her, he deserved a name, frowned momentarily. “Please leave the food.”
The maid set the tray on the sideboard, making quick work of setting out the food. “I’ll bring in your coffee straight away.”
When the maid was gone, Richard returned his chair to the table. Jane stood and allowed her chair to be moved as well.
Minutes later, as she stirred cream into her tea, she realized the swirls inside had calmed greatly, leaving only the swirls in her cup.
They ate in silence for several minutes.
A question filled her until she had to ask or worry over the answer.
Reminding herself of her bravery in front of the fireplace, Jane set down her spoon.
“How will we know when it is time to conclude our courtship?”
Richard wiped his mouth with a napkin. “When you choose to come to my room. Not because you must fulfill our agreement, but because you wish to.”
Jane nodded.
“Do you understand the difference?” His eyes searched hers.
“I believe so. I do wish to. I agreed to. I always keep my promises.”
Her husband shook his head and stared into his coffee.
What had she said to displease him? He needed an heir. She could be brave. She had not flinched when he kissed her on her head. She had not even been afraid of him touching her. The swirls that he sent into motion had been rather pleasant.
He looked up from his cup, his dark eyes bore into hers. “Not because you agreed to, but because you wish to. Because you wish my arms around you. Because you cannot fall asleep until you have one more kiss.”
Jane searched his face for a clue how she would know such a thing. Was it possible?
“I do not wish to take you to wife out of force, coercion, or obligation. I will not step into your room unless invited. If you invite me before we have kissed ourselves breathless at least five times, I will not believe that you wish to be with me.”
What was he saying? Kissed breathless? Perhaps she should have allowed Phil to tell her more. Not one of the kisses she witnessed between her sisters and their spouses had left either breathless. What did he mean? She did not dare ask. They completed their meals in silence.
Richard stood. “I have work that must be seen to. Would you be available this afternoon for a walk, weather permitting, or perhaps a game in the library?”
“Yes.”
As he passed her, he touched her arm so briefly she wondered if she imagined it.
She had not flinched. One of many touches, four, eight, twelve, she had not been counting since he rubbed his thumb on the back of her hand.
Instead, a small swirl turned. She could do this.
Whirls and swirls were rather pleasant. Whirls that left her breathless were beyond imagination.