A Desperate Wager (12 page)

Kirkbourne village was lovely—filled with whitewashed thatched cottages and a rather large gothic church. The rambling church seemed slightly out of place among the rows of neat, low buildings.

Some of the villagers stared, some doffed their caps or curtseyed and some just waved. She supposed many villagers had known Nathaniel as a boy. He waved back, his features rather severe. She painted on her most pleasing smile and did likewise.

Then Kirkbourne Manor came into view. They had trundled through a large gateway about two miles back. The gates had been huge, wrought iron affairs and somehow she had known that the ducal manor would be a sight to behold.

It was enormous. Her father’s own rather eloquent country house would fit into Kirkbourne Manor ten times over—well, maybe six.

No wonder the Duke of Kirkbourne could be arrogant. Anyone would be arrogant if they owned a house like this. And she would be its mistress. Her heart sank. She may have been reared to know about running a grand house but this was not what she had ever imagined. For how many staff would she be responsible?

She was still smarting from his remark earlier but also secretly thrilled. How terribly rude and rugged he had seemed. Part of her had wanted to tease him. To pull him out of his self-imposed bad mood
, but part of her had decided to allow him to wallow in his own misery. She would have him in her bed tonight. For now, she had to meet the staff.

“
You did not tell me the house was so large,” she said, unable to hold back the note of awe in her voice.

“
It is a ducal mansion—my country seat. Of course it is large.”

“
I just did not expect it to be quite this large.”

“
Everything about me is large. I thought you had realised that.” There was a glint of mischief in his dark eyes and she giggled despite herself. Duchesses should not giggle. “I apologise for earlier. It was not well done of me to use such foul language.”

She nudged him companionably with her elbow.

“Hush. We are still finding our way and now I see the grandeur of your home, I am more than glad I did not turn up looking tumbled. Though I believe I must look rather bedraggled from the carriage ride.” He looked her up and down.

“
A little—but the staff will expect that. They know it takes two days to get here.”

“
Shall they not be a little shocked that I am unable to walk?”

“
No. I sent a missive to the butler explaining everything and making appropriate arrangements. They know what to expect. And they will know that I shall be carrying you into the house. I am expecting something in the next few days that should help you get around the house easier.”

Getting around the massive building was going to be no mean feat she supposed. Her heart sank at the thought of the difficulties she would face, Nathaniel would not always be around to carry her about. But he was having something delivered that would help. What on earth could that be? Now she was intrigued.

“I have moved all the main rooms to the ground floor,” Nathaniel said, matter-of-factly. There were plenty of unused rooms in the manor—as many on the ground floor as there were elsewhere in the huge building. “I moved our bedroom and our individual dressing rooms and your morning room down here. The drawing room has also been brought downstairs. We shall go to Bath tomorrow. I have another surprise for you.”

“
Really?” Sarah’s brows were furrowed and she did not look particularly enraptured by his adjustments. She had met the housekeeper, butler, footmen, maids and stable master out at the front door of the manor. Everything seemed to have gone well, despite the slight awkwardness of her being carried by him.

“
Really,” he answered without much thought. He did not want her to know what her surprise was. He had a feeling she would absolutely adore it. Perhaps she would adore him too for giving it to her. “This is the drawing room.” He walked in to the room that had been the morning room until the past few days. It had been quickly painted in a cream colour. Sage green drapes, rugs and soft furnishings set off the large fireplace and the gilt cornicing. He would never have imagined that this room had ever been anything but the main drawing room. The morning room had been moved closer to their new quarters in the east wing.

“
A harpsichord,” she cried, wriggling in his arms. “You have a harpsichord?” her voice was breathless with delight and she almost tumbled out of his arms in her efforts to see it properly.

“
You like the harpsichord?”

“
Oh yes. I miss playing the pianoforte because I cannot work the pedals, but the harpsichord has none. Besides, Bach sounds so much better on the harpsichord, would you not agree?”

“
I suppose,” he said placing her on the stool beside the instrument. Her hand moved along the polished wood, lovingly, as if she was stroking a beloved pet. Then she pushed back the lid. “I do not know if it is in tune.”

“
Oh that is easy enough to fix. I can tune it if necessary. It is not nearly as difficult as tuning a pianoforte.”

She opened the lid then ran her fingers quickly up and down the
keys. He had never seen the instrument used, but it had always been in the drawing room. He supposed the pianoforte in the music room was the preferred instrument of his mother.

She struck a chord. It did not sound too bad. Perhaps someone on the staff kept it tuned. She struck a few more chords. He did not have the best ear for music but he could tell it was at worst only slightly out of tune. She played a few bars of a well—
known country dance, occasionally grimacing as she struck the wrong note or one was out of tune. When she stopped she was breathing deeply, a smile curving her lips.

“
I need a bit of practice but would you mind awfully if I use it?”

“
Not at all. This is your home and everything in it is yours.”
Even me.
The thought had come from nowhere. Good God, he really was falling under her spell. He looked at the clock on the mantel. An hour and a half until dinner. They had time. “I shall show you the rest of the house later,” he promised, scooping her into his arms and heading for the east wing.

****

Sarah squeaked as he strode off through the huge double doors and down a large windowed corridor. It had obviously at one time been open to the elements, but now was enclosed to make passing through the old manor more pleasant.

“
Morning room… your dressing room… my dressing room farther down the corridor,” he barked. His voice turned to a low purr. “Our bedroom.” He pushed open the door and eased her into the dark room. She supposed it was so dark because of its position in the house. She would bet the sun streamed through the windows in the morning. Dark red hangings around the four poster bed told her that the furniture and general décor had been his bedroom, though it had been made less masculine with a lighter pink wallpaper. The dark red satin bedcovers looked sensual, to the point that she wriggled in his grip. They would make love here. Perhaps their babies would be conceived here.

Nathaniel had stopped, as if not quite sure what to do. Every muscle in his body was tense and his jaw was clenched. She had no doubt he had brought her here to tumble her.
She had absolutely no issues with that—there was well over an hour until dinner.

She pressed her lips to the part of his jaw where she could see the muscle flexing. He turned his head and with no gentle preamble
, plunged his tongue into her mouth. She responded quickly, her body ramped up with the need that had been simmering since last night. He laid her on the bed, still kissing, but once his hand was free he kneaded her breast, flicking his thumb over the sensitive nipple. Even through four layers of cloth, his touch sent spears of pleasure to her most intimate place.

“
Nathaniel, I want you in me. Am I wet enough?” She knew she was being wanton. It was probably not an attractive quality in a wife…or in a duchess. But she knew only one thing would give her satisfaction. He hitched her skirts and she sighed as his fingers made contact with her aching flesh.

“
Yes, you are soaking.” She winced. That had to be a bad thing. But his lips were on her neck as his fingers played in her swollen cleft. “So perfectly wet. So ready for me.”

“
Ready for your hard cock,” she whispered. It was his turn to wince slightly. “Do I shock you?”

“
Only in the best possibly way, Your Grace.” He pulled up her skirts and set about opening the buttons of his breeches. Her breath hitched as his erection sprang forth and he clasped it, stroking it a few times as he bit his lip. She wondered how uncomfortable he must be and for how long he had been hard. He bent forward and pressed himself into her.

“Nathaniel, why are we going into Bath?” Sarah asked him the next morning as she flicked her kippers around her plate without enthusiasm. Breakfast was something he had insisted they did together instead of her old habit of eating it in bed because it was too much trouble. He did have to wait a little longer to eat than was his habit in the past but it was worth it to see her cheerful smile over the table.

“
It is a surprise.” She had asked him a few times and every time he had given the same answer.

“
You know that the waters will not cure me, do you not?” He looked over his newspaper at her and scowled.

“
One would assume that even the waters of Bath could not fix your spine, Freckles. So yes, I know the waters will not cure you. It is just as well I had no intention of taking you to Bath for the healing properties of the much vaunted waters.” Good grief, where did she get her ideas from? Between thinking he was stopping her from becoming pregnant by cleaning his seed from her thighs to thinking he would take her to Bath to be cured. The woman had far too much time to think.

“
So where are you taking me?”

“
I told you it is a surprise, and I will not be coerced into disclosing the information. But I do believe you will like it. I hope to make life easier for you—for us both.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. Nathaniel skewered some kipper on his fork and placed it in his mouth before smiling triumphantly. He knew she was trying to work out what the surprise could be.

“I do not need a companion. I am not an aging dowager duchess.”

“
Well, I do believe last night proved that beyond doubt, Your Grace.” Sarah flushed, from her décolletage, up her neck and into her soft cheeks, just the way she did in the throes of passion. His breeches tightened. She looked around and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw no servants.

“
Perhaps I do not wish to go to Bath today.”

“
Really, I would have thought you would want to pick the colour.”

He could almost hear her mind trying to make sense of his cryptic clues as her mouth pursed and her gaze darted around the room.

“Please will you tell me?”

“
No. Now finish your breakfast and we shall get going. The stable master is readying the coach. We’ll take the barouche.”

“
You have a barouche here too?”

“
Yes.” She seemed impressed. He enjoyed that. Anything that made her like him more was good. He had taken his time making love to her last night after dinner, shown her as much sensual pleasure as he could before seeing to his own needs. Once he had cleaned her, she had moved herself to curl into him. Again she had woken him to help her turn and they had made love before falling asleep again.

He had a feeling this may become a nightly occurrence, something about which he would never complain.

For a carriage, they were trundling along at a good pace. Sarah watched the countryside roll by, excited to be out and about. Her father had her cooped up in the London house for the most part.

The fields around Kirkbourne were green now
, and Sarah knew it would not be long before they were yellow with corn and rape. She looked up at the puffy while clouds meandering overhead and could not help the feeling building up that all was well with her little world.

Nate had plans to give her leg splints to his saddle maker to see if something kinder and less restrictive could be fashioned for her. Until then, he preferred to carry her around. Sarah had mixed feelings about this. She loved that he cared for her and did not want to be injured by the braces, but she had managed just fine with them for the years since her accident and she was not impressed with his fussing.

Besides, it made her feel as if her father had been neglectful—and he had not been—not really.

Nathaniel’s gloved hand rested in hers and they sat in companionable silence.

“Is the house acceptable to you, Sarah?” he asked suddenly.

“
Oh yes, it is lovely. The staff is all so friendly and helpful.”

“
Good. I think…” The carriage began to make a strange noise and shook violently.

“
What the…?” Nate let go of her hand and grabbed the rail at the side just as the carriage made a loud cracking noise and Sarah, Nate and her side of the carriage lurched to the left. The speed at which it all happened gave Sarah no chance to grab onto anything and she hurtled to the ground, a scream lodged in her throat. Grass rushed up to meet her, and her head exploded with pain a second before blackness engulfed her.