A Practical Arrangement (20 page)

“
Evie...,” he whispered raggedly. But he could speak no more. In comparison to his usual exploits, Thomas struggled with the new found and foreign intimacy lovemaking conjured. He understood, in light of this, that he'd never made love to a woman in his life.

At eighteen years of age, his friends had invited him for a night of debauchery, all urging him on when a woman invited him to spend the evening with her. His introduction to carnality had come at the hands of a woman happy to engage in pleasure, wanting nothing more. His choice in women since had followed that example. Hedonism. Everything he knew about women, pleasuring them, seemed lacking with the woman in his arms.

He'd failed to bring her to fulfillment thus far in spite of his vast knowledge and wealth of experience. Yet here, in his arms, she offered him a calmness, a sense of peace he'd not before known. He chuckled, recalling his group of friends laughing at the term
afterglow
. Damned if he wasn't the laughingstock.

“
What amuses you so?” Evangeline questioned sleepily, curious as to what induced laughter after so troubling a story.

“
In short, Evie, myself,” he laughed.

“
Whatever does that mean?” she murmured, eyes heavy.

“
Shh, sweetheart,” he encouraged, stroking her back gently. “It is nothing at all. Rest.”

Evangeline drifted off in his embrace, snuggled against him contentedly. Sleep, however, would not welcome Thomas. He'd yet to seduce his own wife. She'd allowed him to bed her, pulling him further under her spell, but she withheld a part of herself from him. Thomas desired all of her. Complete surrender. He'd settle for nothing less.

* * *

Ladies milled about, engaging one another in conversation after discussion ended concerning their latest social project. “Mrs. Preston,” Verla Rhodes greeted with a nod and smile, “it is good to see you.”

“
Mrs. Rhodes, likewise.”

“
Let us take our tea together,” Verla invited. “I heard the most fascinating conversation at the Masterson wedding breakfast.” Verla allowed the statement to hang in the air, her hook baited and set for reeling the foolhardy Augusta into her net.

“
How interesting,” Augusta fastened on greedily. “I would love to hear all about it. Tea would be lovely, Mrs. Rhodes. Thank you.”

“
I was surprised to see you as a guest at the Masterson wedding,” Verla pointed out with a knowing smile. “Usually one does not invite one's former mistress to one's own wedding party!”

The blond woman stilled, gauging her adversary's intent. Judging whether the risk outweighed the possible benefit, Augusta formulated her response. “I rather believe Mr. Masterson and I have unfinished business,” she declared boldly.

Verla's haughty smile betrayed her pleasure at the opportunity to gossip in unveiled glee. “Then you will, no doubt, take great interest in what my ears overheard last week, my dear.” Verla relayed the conversation between Jonathan Lane, Albert Grey, and Winston Platte, sneering through the entire telling. “It would appear, Mrs. Preston, that Mr. Grey capitalized on the precarious position your Mr. Masterson found himself in, and Mr. Platte as well. Why, that gentleman declared that Mr. Masterson must marry and produce an heir to gain even one cent of his inheritance.” She laughed derisively. “He likely took that plain woman to wife to ensure he'd not be cuckolded.”

Augusta joined in the mean spirited venture. “Why, of course,” she agreed, happy to have discovered the reason – any reason aside from the idea Thomas could actually prefer Evangeline Grey to her – to explain his apparent marital bliss. “No other man wants Miss Grey. He can rest assured any child produced will be his own.”

“
He'll have her breeding in no time, I'm sure,” Verla announced with disdain.

“
And return to his wicked ways,” Augusta added with a smirk. The news satisfied her, for she could once again look forward to enticing Thomas Masterson to her bed. Greed for his attentions silenced any act of conscience. “Poor Mrs. Masterson,” she delighted wickedly, “will likely be devastated. I fear she fancies herself his true love.”

The women tittered in derisive cruelty.

“
Or perhaps the pitiable girl believes Mr. Masterson is in love with her and will remain true to his vows.”

Augusta grew silent, pondering the thought. “Do you suppose her unaware of her husband's situation?”

Verla scoffed. “The truth is, she believes he married her to spare her reputation. I was there. I witnessed the entire event.”

“
You must tell me, for I've not heard the story in its entirety,” Augusta begged petulantly. “Do go on, Mrs. Rhodes. I dare say your tale grows more intriguing by the moment.”

Relating the event in great detail, Verla conveyed her gossip with relish, embellishing a bit on Evangeline's disheveled state as Thomas Masterson carried her into Grey Manor those few months ago. “So you see, my dear Mrs. Preston, Evangeline Masterson has no idea the ruse set upon her! She believes her husband acted out of some non-existent inner well spring of decency.”

Snickering together in jaded cattiness, the pair proceeded to detail the pitiful naivety of Mrs. Masterson, gaining much amusement at the impending disaster when she discovered the truth. Augusta savored each morsel, tucking them away for future use. She would have Thomas back, one way or another. Verla Rhodes, the gossipy crone, had provided her the means to attain her goal. She smiled, delighted to have found a
friend
with which to share her secrets.

* * *

Thomas laughed, chasing away her doubts. He was teasing her again.

“
Come here, Evangeline,” he beckoned.

The firelight washed him in golden splendor, his fine features chiseled and proud. Evangeline neared where he sat on the settee before the hearth in their private sitting room. He pulled her down into his lap.

“
Much better,” he said smugly. “I missed you today.”

She smiled, happy to be near him.

“
Did you not miss me?”

Evangeline rested her head against his chest, eager to soak in his scent and warmth. “I was quite busy,” she teased in return. “Were you away?”

His arms tightened around her securely, his deep chuckle admitting his defeat in their game of words. “Did you have your walk today? I am sorry I was not here to take you.”

“
Mrs. O'Leary and I did tour the side gardens. We discussed some late spring planting ideas.”

“
Tell me of your day,” Thomas encouraged.

“
I received a letter from Melody, and another from my mother. Corinne is delayed in coming to me again,” she sighed. “My mother insists she cannot do without her until a suitable replacement can be found to wait upon Melody. But the wedding plans are progressing quickly now for my sister and Mr. Lane. His family will visit Grey Manor week after next.”

“
Do you wish to have Mrs. O'Leary interview for a new maid for yourself?” Thomas asked indulgently.

Evangeline blushed to the roots of her hair. “I...well, since we've married, you have...”

“
Removed your need for a maid to undress you, Evie?” His eyes glittered devilishly. “If you'd like a maid, we shall inform her at her hiring that you've only need for her in the mornings,” Thomas laughed. “That is, once I've made love to you and left you in peace.”

His open talk of lovemaking still caused her embarrassment, despite the fact that not a day had gone by without his passion being visited upon her.

“
Have I incited that beautiful blush upon your skin, Mrs. Masterson?” he teased again. “Let me look at you.” He cupped her face and raised it. “Lovely, Evie.”

She shivered at his words.

“
What else did your mother have to report?”

“
Mostly she wrote of the wedding details. Of course, she sends her regards. She and my father will not be able to visit until after Melody's wedding.” A touch of melancholy tinged her voice.

“
Do you miss your family terribly, Evie?” Genuine concern colored his question. “I can arrange for you to visit, sweetheart, although it must wait until I am able to travel with you. I cannot bear to be separated from you for even one night.”

His reward was a broad smile.

“
No, Thomas. I am content to be here with you.”

Deep satisfaction flooded him at her answer. The weeks of their marriage solidified the bond growing between them more with each passing day. Still, he knew she would need to engage the world again, her charity work and friendships necessary. For now, Thomas wanted her all to himself. Guilt tugged at his conscience, for he was busy during the days, his whiskey venture consuming his time. His wife had been left alone too often. “Tomorrow we will ride Cherry Hill's property and I shall show you around. Is that acceptable to you?”

“
Very much,” she stated. “But will you have the time?”

“
I'll make time, Evie.”

Thomas captured her lips, his heated mouth stealing her breathless sigh as he explored her eagerly. Her hands roved his shoulders and back, the pleasure of her freely given caress a new and welcome delight. Sliding his large palms down over her nightgown clad bottom, he pulled her to straddle him, drinking deeply from her lips. She did not balk at his positioning of her, and he dared to stroke her thighs and hips, growing bold in his caresses and hitching her gown higher and higher to expose the creamy flesh of her thighs to his wandering hands.

Her breath caught, a soft whimper spilling from her throat when he cupped her bare bottom and groaned against her cheek. “Undress me, sweetheart.”

She stilled, her hands resting against his shoulders as her eyes widened in surprise. Under her studying gaze, he wondered if she would comply, wondered if he had overwhelmed her, but she grasped the edges of his shirt and lifted it over his head. Moving to the floor in front of him she removed his boots, then slowly slid her hands up his thighs to unfasten his waistband. She looked up at him, uncertainty glimmering in her eyes, and Thomas covered her hands with his and helped her rid him of his remaining clothing.

Her eyes widened further as his thick erection sprang free, and she looked again to him for guidance.

“
Touch me, Evie.” He moved her hand to grasp his length, wrapping his fingers around hers, encouraging her to stroke him as he pulled her up from the floor to his lap. He claimed her mouth with passionate vigor, groaning his pleasure raggedly. Silken wetness met his finger as he found her center, and he pushed inside her body as his palm pressed against her sensitive flesh. Her soft moan encouraged him, and he stroked inside her, matching the sensual rhythm of her hand upon him. Her desire climbed; he felt her tightening around his finger as she neared her climax. “Evie, sweetheart, give yourself to me.”

She reached to clasp him to herself, her arms hugging him fiercely as he brought her to sweet fulfillment for the first time. A hushed sob tore from her throat as she succumbed to pleasure, her body pulsing around his finger. “That's it, baby,” he soothed softly, nestling against her neck and holding her securely in his strong, embracing arm.

She sagged against him, sated and content. He held her close for a long while, caressing her hair and down her back, whispering kisses along her face and neck. Slowly, he resumed his seduction, awakening her anew, and at last, he lifted her over his throbbing erection and entered her welcoming warmth. Thomas rolled her beneath him and cupped her face in his hands. Tears tracked down her cheeks, and he stilled immediately. “Why the tears, sweetheart? Are you all right? Tell me.”

“
Thomas, my sweet Thomas,” she sobbed. “I am...I am more than all right.” Overcome with emotion she could speak nothing more, and abandoning further attempt, pulled him close and clung to him desperately.

“
Easy, baby,” he hushed. He moved within her, tenderly loving her as he kissed away her tears. “I love you, Evie.”

Evangeline rested in his love, savored each gentle caress and kiss. Helplessly in love with him, unable to express her tender emotions any other way, she cleaved to him long after he had spilled within her.

* * *

True to his word, Thomas appeared nearly every afternoon, walking out with her, although he shortened their time out of doors considerably on colder days. Evangeline balked on a few occasions, but secretly, she enjoyed his presence, and the time spent alone with her husband was cherished. He was, in fact, quite charming and intelligent. Why he kept the latter fact so well guarded puzzled her, but slowly, he shook off whatever restrained him. Thomas Masterson gained her regard and respect day by day.

Winter barley planting was accomplished, and Thomas' free time was soon spent overseeing the three large buildings being constructed on the north side of the fields. He'd hinted at no clues as to their purpose, and after weeks of quiet speculation, Evangeline was near to bursting with curiosity. Oh, how she wanted to ask, just one innocent question. But she refrained. Thomas knew her well enough – and she was beyond convinced he took great pleasure in prolonging her wonder. It had become an amusing, unspoken challenge between them. His eyes twinkled far too merrily when Mr. Goddard or Tad O'Leary, Mrs. O'Leary's son, announced building material deliveries. Merrily, indeed! Suspense drove her to distraction, and truth be told, Cherry Hill's management with only the two of them in residence left her a great deal of time to meditate on that distraction.