Chapter 11
Chapter 11
Henry helped Emmeline put an egg in the bowl of green dye the cook had made from spinach. “Now, let it sit. We should put another in the blue, do you not think?”
His eldest daughter nodded and this time, used the spoon to place an egg in the dye made from violets. Once it was settled, he looked across the table where Jane’s hand cradled Juliana’s as it nestled another egg in the green. His heart swelled at the sight. She had such a tender way with Jules.
Since Emmeline was about her sister’s age, he had been dying eggs with them as his governess had with him. Marina would never have understood why he took part in the endeavour—his father would not have either—yet he never cared what they thought. From the moment of the girls’ births, he could not imagine missing these moments much less not taking part in them. Miss Fletcher had gawped at him the first time he insisted her presence was not required, although Jules was too young then, so it was just him and Emme. She had assisted when Jules became old enough to join her sister; Miss Fletcher had become accustomed to his far from conventional relationships with his daughters. Not that he would have it any other way.
Now, he was in love with a lady who would join him, who saw nothing amiss in him spending time with his daughters. She also had no qualms over staining her dress, even if his housekeeper had provided her an old apron to cover the lovely pale rose morning gown. He was blessed indeed! That said, instead of a shade of pink, Henry oft times imagined Jane in blue since it complemented her eyes, yet the colour of her gown this morning complemented her rosy complexion, which was equally alluring.
When Jane sat, she pulled Jules onto her lap. “What shall we do now that the last of the eggs is in the dye?”
“A stowy?” asked Jules. He could not help but smile.
Emme gave a sharp inhale. “Yes, pray read to us, Miss Montford. You tell stories so very well.”
Henry followed as Jane led the girls to the nearby sofa. He sat, and Emme climbed into his lap, much as Jules did with Jane. Then, without a book to guide her, Jane created a fanciful world with a prince and a princess, brother and sister, who with the assistance of a cheeky mouse and a dim-witted bird helped bring down the evil sorceress who cursed their land. He could do naught but gape while she told the tale, enthralled as much as his daughters. Had she created such a story on her own? Why had no one mentioned she was so imaginative?
The girls cheered when the prince and princess defeated the curse, and Jane helped them put on their aprons once more before they removed the eggs from the dye and set them to dry on old towelling.
As soon as they were done, Miss Fletcher whisked the girls off to the nursery, Jules for her nap and Emme for a game.
Jane’s eyes sparkled while she took in the colourful eggs before her. He should take her to find her grandparents, yet he could not bring himself to do so. He had no wish to share her.
“The weather is fine. Would you care to take a walk?” Rain had fallen the night before, but it had not been heavy, and the sun had been out for long enough to dry the paths. If the air was not too muggy, the day would be pleasant.
Her expression brightened further. “A walk would be lovely.”
As soon as they had their hats and coats, he offered Jane his arm and they set off for the circuit around the lake. When they were out of sight of the house, he removed his gloves, then Jane’s, and took her hand, entwining their fingers. The notion to hold a lady’s hand had never seemed to be an intimate gesture before, but now he longed to do so with the lady beside him, and their palms pressed tightly together made those times they kissed come to mind. He never stopped thinking about her kiss.
At the point where the path split, Jane tugged for them to go right.
He drew her back so she faced him. “The path is meant to be walked in the other direction.”
“Is the prospect truly so different if we walk the opposite?”
After a pause, he shrugged. “I do not know. I have never done so.”
She backed down the path, pulling his hand as she walked. “Then perhaps it is time you should. Will you not join me?”
His entire being revolted at the thought of refusing her tempting invitation, so he followed without argument. “Did you create the story you told the girls while you performed it?”
With a grin, she shook her head. “Heavens, no. Lizzy is the storyteller. She has told that one to me and our sisters so many times over the years, I remember it with ease, although I am certain I inadvertently change small details by accident. Lizzy was always so good. One of us would make a guess as to what the prince and princess were to do, and she would add it to the tale. ’Tis a favourite of mine and brings back many happy memories.” He could understand why.
“Your recitation was well done. Emmeline and Juliana were fascinated, as was I, and since it has such a personal connexion to you, I must thank you for sharing it with us.”
She gave a laugh that reminded him of bells chiming on the wind. “I try to tell it as Lizzy would, so I must give all the credit to her.”
Henry shook his head. “I disagree. You had to remember the story, which was a lengthy one, not to mention the different voices of the characters and the emotion to match the different parts to do the tale justice—no easy feat with such a long story.” She deserved a great deal of credit for her recitation.
When they reached the edge of the hill near the grotto, Jane quickened her pace and released his hand.
“What are you about?”
One side of her lips curved upward as she turned and ducked inside the grotto. He hastened his next few steps to enter behind her, but she was not to be found.
“Jane?”
A light laugh echoed through the stone walls as he passed the statue of Poseidon in the exit chamber and made his way into the larger circular room. He pivoted slowly, but she was not in that room either. She was not to be found with Zeus in the small side chamber either. Where had she gone?
He glanced through what was meant to be the entrance, but she did not await him there. “Where are you?”
Another laugh vibrated off the walls, and he hurried to the room before the exit and made a more thorough examination around the statue of Poseidon. She had not hidden behind it. The laugh had sounded as though it came from this room, but apparently, it had not.
He rushed into the niche and behind Zeus, catching Jane around the waist before she could shift further around the statue. “Ha!”
Her happy laughter filled the grotto as he turned her in his arms and claimed her lips in a bruising kiss. One of her hands slid up his shoulder and wound around so her fingers combed through the hair at his nape while the other clung to his lapel. His aggressive kiss had not seemed to frighten her since she returned the gesture with the same passion and not one hint of hesitation. Her ardour made her more difficult to resist.
His arms wound around her and pressed her to him while he plundered her mouth, groaning as he tasted her for the first time that day. He was becoming addicted to this—holding her, kissing her, and eliciting those small sounds of arousal she surely had no idea she made. Her warm exhales puffed against his cheek as he backed her into the corner.
No thought existed in his mind but the softness of her flesh, the press of her breasts against his chest, and how her hips shifted closer so the inside of one of her thighs rested on the outside of his. She was temptation itself!
Henry tore his lips from hers and caressed them down her neck. “Tell me to stop.”
As he pressed small kisses to the base of her neck, her collarbone, and finally under her ear, he made her gasp. When he dragged his teeth along her earlobe, she moaned, which made the remaining blood in his brain rush south while his hand found her breast and massaged her through her stays. They were both lost as he reclaimed her mouth.
Voices filtered through the rooms of the grotto, and finally permeated the fog in his mind to cause an abrupt end to their activity. Her wide eyes gazed up at him. “Nicholas,” she mouthed.
Henry raised a finger to his lips. Where they were nestled in the corner, they could not be seen from the main chamber, so they remained still and quiet.
“I am glad the housekeeper told us about this walk,” said Lady Fiona. “She was correct that the prospect is like no other.”
“This is a secluded spot.” The sound of breathing was all that could be discerned for the next few moments. Jane covered her face at a low moan. She had to know from her own recent experience what was occurring in the next room. Her hands were lifting to cover her ears when Lady Fiona’s laugh rang through the structure.
“Nicholas,” said Lady Fiona. “What if the duke and Jane decide to walk down here? They have done so almost daily during Lady Juliana’s naps.”
After a light click, surely Hatton’s pocket watch opening, came a masculine exhale. “Blast. This is the time when they usually walk.” Yes, it was!
“I do so enjoy being right—most of the time,” said Lady Fiona.
Hatton chuckled. “I wish you were not correct on this occasion either.”
“If we return to the house, we can retire for the afternoon—tell everyone we are napping. I am certain you wish to nap with me, do you not?” Poor Jane pressed her hand to her mouth and shook her head.
After a bit more of nothing but breathing, the footsteps resumed then faded as her cousin and his wife, no doubt, departed. Henry and Jane both exhaled and sagged against the wall. Thank the Lord they had not been found!
“Forgive me. Thus far, my grandparents walk before luncheon, and I had not considered my cousin and his wife when I lured you here.”
He could not help but grin and kiss her forehead. “I love that you lured me here, if you could not tell.”
The muscles of her back relaxed under his palms.
“You need not ever worry that I shall believe you wanton or think less of you for wanting me. Watching your grandparents and your cousin and his wife give subtle glances and touches has given me a new perspective.” He chuckled. “I happened upon Hatton and his wife outside of their chambers last night. They were in a similar position to ours before they entered.”
“Truly?”
“Not for long, mind you, but I believe Lady Fiona had teased him into the assignation as they climbed the stairs. Obviously, they are much in love from what we heard of their interlude here.”
He entwined their fingers. “If I could, I would remain with you thus all day, but for my own sanity, we should continue.” He did not exaggerate. He would lose his wits soon if they stayed.
Jane allowed him to lead her from the grotto, even though it was the last thing she wished to do. When had she become so dependent upon him for her happiness? When she was not with him, she missed his steady character and solid frame at her side, she longed for his palm flush against hers, their fingers entwined, and she pined for the press of his lips against hers. If asked before their courtship, she would have likely been puzzled by someone who asked if she liked kissing. The idea had never occurred to her. After all, Mrs. Bennet spoke of marital duties as though they were an onerous chore. Lizzy and Amelia had made her question Mrs. Bennet’s laments, yet she had not yet tried the activity for herself.
“I must thank you for joining us in dying eggs.”
A smile came to her lips. “No thanks are needed for something I enjoy. As I have mentioned before, I take great pleasure in your daughters’ company. They are delightful.” Her heart also quickened with each glance of him interacting with Emmeline or Juliana. He was gentle and so devoted to the two little girls. She had never before witnessed the like. His demeanour with them was so different from her father’s with her or Lizzy. Was that why it drew her so?
When he had been so attentive while they dyed eggs, she had the urge to provide him with a houseful of children to dote upon. The revelation had caused her cheeks to burn. She glanced at him, but he was looking straight ahead at the path before them. She allowed her shoulders to relax. He seemed too preoccupied to notice.
The most disconcerting part was the dread that filled her as their time together at Hemel Hill grew shorter and shorter. She had no wish to separate from him when they reached the house much less when it was time to return to town. The path to the folly appeared, so instead of walking towards the house, she veered to take it. Upon becoming closer to the structure, she quickened her pace.
“I want to see the inside again.” As soon as they were concealed within the walls, she made an abrupt pivot and buried her face into his chest.
“What is this?” One of his hands cupped the back of her head while the other wrapped around her. The comfort of his embrace calmed her, even if it did render gooseflesh down her neck.
“I think I may love you.”
His lips kissed her crown. “And that upsets you?”
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply of his cologne. The cedar and clove tones soothed her. “No; I simply do not want to be parted from you when we reach the house.”
“I have no plans to attend business today, so we need not part if you would prefer to stay together. We can read in the library or talk in the drawing room. ’Tis your choice.” His cheek pressed against her temple. “Although, if you would marry me, we would never need part again—at least after the ceremony, that is.”
Her heart jumped within her chest when he mentioned marriage. Was that meant to be a proposal? “Are you offering me your hand?”
He stepped back, and her body ached to return him to her embrace. “Jane, you know my affections and wishes. I would marry you today if I thought your grandfather would allow it. I am yours now and forever. You only need say you wish to be my wife if that is your desire. Since I realized that I love you, it has been all I could do not to fall at your feet and beg you to be mine.” He dropped to one knee. “But if you require a proposal to speak from your heart, I shall be pleased to offer mine to you.”
She dropped to her knees to join him. “I only need you.” And in that moment, her mind and heart agreed before he kissed her soundly to seal their betrothal. If only they could remain thus for the rest of her stay!