Chapter 38
Thirty-Eight
Tell me again why we must tuck ourselves into my coach and traipse across England?
” Richard knew the answer full well. Just as he knew Jane would turn that delightful, exasperated expression his way, and in time he would kiss her to smooth the feathers he had ruffled and the ride to Terrace Hall, Michael’s primary residence, would be all the more pleasant for the distraction.
Christmas to Twelfth Night promised to be the best in memory.
She scooted away from him on the seat they shared. “You are being petulant only to rile me. It will not work this time. Your game to upset me so you can smother me with kisses has been revealed.”
“Do you not think kissing my wife is a grand way to spend the time?” He picked up her hand and loosened the glove revealing the forget-me-not ring he had given her the day after the kidnapping.
She wore the ring almost constantly next to her wedding band.
He kissed the spot above the rings, as he often did.
He turned her hand over and kissed the inside of her wrist.
Her cheeks pinked, but she did not back down and tugged her arm back. “Then I will arrive quite mussed up, and what will Michael say then?”
“He will put a hand on my shoulder and tell me, ‘well done’ before sending us to our rooms.” Richard moved her hair aside to expose her neck, his fingers lingered in the long curls Martha had styled.
Weeks ago, Jane discovered he preferred part of her hair down as he enjoyed playing with the strands.
According to Jenson it was much easier to style Her Grace’s hair with a portion down for his pleasure than it was to have to put back in so many pins.
Most days his wife instructed her maid to accommodate his desires.
Martha had taught Richard to rebraid Jane’s hair to preserve it at night after he inevitably destroyed the braid his wife had come to bed with.
Apparently, hair that tangled all night tied itself in knots, leading to hair loss.
“Room.” Jane’s correction interrupted his pleasant pursuits.
“What?” said Richard as his fingers twirled her hair.
Jane pulled back enough to talk. “Room. You have been complaining all week, quite unnecessarily, that despite the absence of your aunt who is attending Deborah who has started her confinement, and thus the absence of her husband Captain Godderidge, you know Michael would give us a single room for the whole of the Christmas season.”
“Unnecessarily?” His hand crawled forward to catch her about the waist.
“Yes, unnecessarily. You have not slept alone for a single night in the past four weeks.”
“Are you complaining?” He whispered in her ear. Richard was not. Holding her each night even if they were too tired to exchange but a kiss was his new favorite way to sleep. Waking up to her smile made his life brighter in millions of ways he would only whisper in her ear.
Jane giggled and put a hand in the center of his chest to pause his progress. “Not in the least, unless your feet are cold.”
“My feet cold? Yours can be positively frigid. Two small blocks of ice sent to torment me. And those stockings you refuse—”
Jane grasped his waistcoat and pulled him closer. Her lips covered his. Apparently two could play his game.
Richard was glad to discover that he was correct. Kissing one’s wife breathless was a delightful way to spend a long carriage ride.