In the Widow’s Bed (10 page)

Reluctantly, Phoebe’s gaze skimmed over the occupants of the carriage. Jonathan sat across from her, relaxed and more handsome than any gentleman should be allowed. His gaze was already fixed on her, his lips curled into a warm smile. Despite the presence of his sister, Phoebe quaked in response to the wicked gleam in his eyes.
 

What had happened between them had tumbled her world into shambles. Her lover affected her with just a look, a touch, and a deviously worded invitation to make love to him. Oh, the things Jonathan Oliver did to her senses defied description. However would she bear the loss of such attention when the affair ended?

And it had to end. Warminster must never learn of her indiscretions with his best friend, although, her step-son was doing a fine job of damaging his own friendship with Jonathan by kissing Lizzy.

Beside her, Lizzy Oliver sat with a smug smile hovering on her lips.

Little minx.
 

The woman should be scandalized to have a friend debauched in her home, yet Lizzy seemed more than willing to return home with Phoebe to keep up the pretext that they had been together the whole time. Lizzy would have to know Phoebe had just made love to her brother. Neither of them had been able to restrain their enjoyment to make the encounters quiet ones. Half the servants would be whispering too. She just hoped that they might be inclined to keep their master’s secrets.

Again, her gaze fell on Jonathan as the carriage turned round the drive. But he sat stiffly now, jaw clenched tight.
 

Phoebe leaned forward and laid her hand on his knee. “What is it?”

“Warminster is on the front steps. Waiting.”

At Lizzy’s sharp gasp, Phoebe captured the other woman’s hand. “Please, Jonathan. Do not lose your head and challenge him. You must consider your sister’s reputation.”

Jonathan’s frown deepened. “That might be the only reason the bastard has legs left to prance about on his front lawn with.” Jonathan covered her clutching fingers under his broad palm and squeezed. “I’ll deal with him once this wretched house party is over. Never fear.”

When the carriage drew to a halt, Jonathan climbed out first. From where Phoebe sat, she could tell the two friends had locked gazes, but couldn’t tell who was winning the battle of wills. However, it was Warminster who glanced at the carriage first, noticing her presence and Lizzy beyond. Jonathan snorted and held out his hand to Phoebe.
 

As their palms connected, a tremor passed through her. This might be the only time they would touch for the next several hours. The thought of that distressed her. She liked Jonathan’s possessive hands on her skin. When her feet hit the gravel, she turned to wait for Lizzy.

The young woman came to her immediately, twining their arms together tight, ignoring Warminster completely. Her stepson took a step in their direction, but Jonathan stepped between. Considering it wise to take the source of tension far away from trouble, Phoebe pulled Lizzy with her. She clearly needed some help where Warminster was concerned.
 

Resolved to be a better friend, Phoebe led Lizzy into the house, passing Warminster so she stood between them. When they crossed the threshold, neither looked to see how he took the cut. The manor was quiet about them as she swiftly dragged Lizzy up the staircase and along to her room. Most of the guests must be elsewhere or resting up for the dinner and games tonight.

Once the door closed behind their backs, Lizzy expelled a harsh breath. “Pompous idiot. Did he intend to intimidate me?”

Phoebe leaned against the bedpost. “Lizzy, do you have any idea why Warminster is so keen to marry you off? It’s not like him to meddle outside his own family party.”

The other woman shrugged and moved to the window. “Perhaps he doesn’t like his advice to be ignored. I told him to mind his own business on the first day of the house party. He’s been hounding me ever since.”

That wasn’t like Warminster at all. Phoebe had the distinct feeling that she was missing an essential piece of information that would explain why their association had reached boiling point so quickly. But she couldn’t very well press the woman to share the confidence. Lizzy might expect Phoebe to be equally forthcoming about her liaison with her brother, and she wasn’t in any way sure how to classify that.

Phoebe moved to the window too. “Ah, the archery contest is over.” She peered at the raucous group approaching the house. Lagging behind the rest, a tall gentleman leading her way, Lady Jocelyn sauntered daintily across the lawn. Warminster and Jonathan strode out to meet them. From her vantage point, Phoebe had an unimpeded view of their tête-à-tête.
 

Lady Jocelyn flirted shamelessly, fluttering her fan to encourage the gentlemen. When Jonathan took a step back from the group, Phoebe let out her breath. She hoped that meant Jonathan was disinterested in Lady Jocelyn. She really hoped that was true.

“I’d wager Lady Jocelyn has won handily at the archery,” Lizzy mused. “She looks too well satisfied to have not had success.”

“Lady Jocelyn has other interests on her mind right now.” Phoebe turned from the window. “She’s currently trying to encourage both Warminster and Jonathan into offering marriage. Her mother confided this to me last night.”

“That despicable harridan! Last night she had Warminster and Mr. Perkins trailing after her like hungry puppies. How many gentlemen does she need?”

“More than a few, I fear.” Phoebe shrugged. “None of them have proposed marriage yet.”

“Warminster has an empty-headed ninny as a candidate for his wife?” Lizzy threw up her hands. “Oh, of course he does.”

When Lizzy started pacing, Phoebe settled comfortably to watch. In all honesty, Lizzy should not be disconcerted by Lady Jocelyn’s designs for marital bliss. Yet she realized something had changed in Lizzy’s manner. Instead of appearing amused by Lady Jocelyn’s ambitions, she seemed jealous. Just what exactly had happened between her and Warminster?

Lizzy crossed to her wardrobe and threw open the door. “What should I wear this evening?”
 

With the change in conversation, the afternoon progressed smoothly. Phoebe chatted and helped Lizzy prepare for the evening and then they both retired to her room. While she dressed for the arduous dinner ahead, Phoebe tried to ignore the bumps and thumps from the room beside hers. Jonathan’s loud conversation with his valet pricked her ears, yet with his sister hovering she couldn’t slip into his room to capture even a brief kiss.

Besides, nothing they ever did was brief. Every conversation, touch, and decadent pleasure seemed to soak up hours not minutes of time. In Jonathan’s company the world disappeared, yet tonight she wouldn’t be so lucky.
 

Once she was as ready as ever, Lizzy captured her arm again to stroll downstairs to the drawing room where everyone would be gathered.
 

A few steps past Jonathan’s bedchamber door, he joined them. “No disappearing without me tonight. Understood?”

Phoebe wasn’t sure whether the man meant her or his sister, but she nodded her head anyway. She would soak up every second she could until their affair ended. And after that she’d consider what she had done.

~ * ~

Jonathan breathed a sigh of relief as the ladies left the men to their port. After an endless dinner of polite conversation, he wanted to wipe the fraudulent smile off his face. Lady Jocelyn had placed her hand to his arm so often that the couple sitting opposite had begun to cast speculative glances at them. She’d dominated the conversation too, filling in the silence and speaking for him when he’d offered no opinion. That last had annoyed him. She didn’t understand the first thing about his opinions, but he hadn’t liked to embarrass her in front of everybody. He may no longer want her, but he didn’t wish her ill. Besides, she’d possibly end up married to his best friend so they needed to get along.

To his considerable disappointment, Phoebe had been placed too far away for easy conversation. She’d stayed with his sister all afternoon, and while he didn’t begrudge their friendship, he was necessarily forced to stay away. Even though his sister approved of their affair, he hadn’t wanted Phoebe to be discomforted. Besides, he suspected he hadn’t the power to keep his hands under control if he had set foot in her bedchamber?

“A penny for them, Selwood.” Warminster plunked a bottle of brandy on the table between them and sat in the opposite seat.
 

“Nothing remarkable. I was just considering the shooting expedition tomorrow. Should I take my Brown Bess or my dueling pistols? Both have remarkably light triggers.”

Warminster appeared a little startled by the talk of dueling, but Jonathan let the satisfaction of seeing him squirm deflect some of his irritation. Warminster could have the Clifford chit for his wife while Jonathan had Phoebe in his bed. But Warminster had better leave Lizzy alone. If he caught wind of any more private conversations he would shoot him.
 

When the port and cigars were consumed and smoked, they rejoined the ladies.

Lady Jocelyn looked set to approach him, she smoothed her gown, set her features with a welcoming smile, but he veered left to join Phoebe and Lizzy on a sofa.
 

When he was comfortable, Jonathan leaned close to Phoebe’s ear. “Miss me?”

He couldn’t hover, and she didn’t utter a word in reply, but she didn’t hold herself as stiffly as she had. Or perhaps she was just afraid that he’d come to blows with Warminster over port. Either way, the lady cared about him and that made him the happiest man in the room.
 

Jonathan reclined in his chair and let the women’s conversation flow over him. They were talking about the ladies excursion tomorrow and planning a detour into the village. How well they got on together. They laughed and giggled in the coziest fashion that one tended to find only among the fastest of friendships.
 

And he thought he might just love her, if this feeling of giddy happiness was any indication. Given their interactions during the day, and last night, he wanted to explore what might grow between them. He wanted to wake beside her for certain, make love whenever they could. If he chose Phoebe for his wife, and not another young lady, Lizzy would be very happy too.

Besides, Phoebe didn’t belong here at Moreton Hall. Warminster had always kept her to the side of the family party, discouraging her from feeling at home here once he’d taken on the burdens of the title. Jonathan had tried hard to control his fury over the shoddy treatment, but was glad when Phoebe had struck up a friendship with his sister and visited their home often. As much as Lizzy had blossomed under Phoebe’s calm presence, that friendship granted him the added bonus of seeing her frequently. They’d become friends, but he hadn’t been lucky enough to get her alone for any length of time.

Not until Warminster had handed him the opportunity he needed on a silver platter.

The tantalizing idea of marriage to Phoebe made him impatient. He had come to this house party with that specific aim in mind. Only his heart had led him to choose a different woman, one more experienced and better suited to his temperament. Thank God for his impulsive heart.

Phoebe glanced at him, her pale gaze quizzical. With a heavy sigh, he forced himself to sit still until the party broke up. And it should have appeared to all that his leaving just happened to coincide with Phoebe and Lizzy’s departure. It wasn’t, of course. Once Lizzy was secure in her bedchamber for the night, he followed Phoebe down the hall. But instead of entering his bedchamber through his door, he slipped through Phoebe’s, too impatient to wait another minute to take her into his arms.
 

As always, Phoebe welcomed him, drawing him firm against her with as much passion as he. Impatiently he shredded the clothes from her body and his, popping buttons across the floor until they were both naked, both frantic to become one. As they fell to the mattress, Jonathan made a vow that before the night was over he’d tell Phoebe he loved her, and that he wanted so much more than these brief decadent nights.

CHAPTER TEN

Jonathan swiped a long strand of hair away from his nose, rolled, and drew the soft body sharing his bed closer to his chest. Well, not exactly
his
bed. Although the sun shone bright through the windows he was still firmly entrenched in Phoebe’s wide tester, but he refused to creep away before she woke. It was nice here, cozy without the world looking down upon them. Contentment trickled through him as he dragged in a deep breath of sex laden air.
 

His body thickened at the memory of the previous night’s pleasure. How had Phoebe survived without sexual intimacy before sharing her bed with him? The lady’s appetite rivaled his, and he simply couldn’t keep his hands off her delicious curves. Jonathan let his fingers slide over the smooth flesh of her hip. Phoebe shuddered, hands spreading over his chest unconsciously.

The reaction brought a smile to his face. Even in sleep she clung to him. What he wouldn’t give to stay with her forever. Jonathan practiced the phrases in his head that he wanted to utter when she woke. He wanted his proposal to be perfect so she would say yes straight away.
 

They could have the banns called and marry in three weeks. After that, he wondered if she’d enjoy a wedding tour to Brighton. But all he really needed was to know she was his to touch and protect and love. A solid, well-made bed like this one wouldn’t go astray either.