Miles Before I Sleep (24 page)

“You bantered with her the whole time and then you threw her over for this tart.”

Miles moved his body in front of Andrea as if afraid the woman might attack Andrea next. “You will not address my wife in such a manner.”

“Wife?” The woman scoffed as she peered around Miles to look at Andrea. “Some men will say anything to get you into their beds. I would question the legality of a wedding without a vicar,” she said to Andrea, then turned back to Miles. “Of course some women will offer anything with the prospect of getting a rich man to the altar. But then what does one expect from a woman traveling alone? You are a fool, Mr. Huntington, to fall for the charms of a hussy you have just met.”

Miles’s brows lowered into a menacing scowl and the muscle in his jaw ticked in anger. He could not stand by while the woman slandered his precious Andrea, and although he hated for Andrea to find out the truth this way, he could not allow Lady Pike’s vindictive tongue to go unchecked.

“Andrea and I are not newly acquainted. We met five years ago and have been promised to each other for nearly three years. She is not traveling alone. She is traveling with me. Why else is she in the cabin next to mine and assigned to eat at my table?”

“Miles,” Andrea interrupted. “We owe this woman no explanations. I’d like to leave now.”

Miles put his arm around her waist and began leading her toward the door.

“One must wonder,” Lady Pike called out loudly to the retreating pair. “Who is to blame when a woman who chooses to travel alone gets raped by a sailor? Is it the sailor’s fault for assuming she was a whore or the whore’s fault for not protecting herself? Enjoy your soiled dove, Mr. Huntington.”

Miles pivoted on his toes, but Andrea grabbed his arm, stopping him.

“What she said, speaks more about her, than it does about me.”

But Miles could not let it go. “Pack your bags, madam. You will be put off my steamer onto the next ship we see. I don’t care where they are going, but you and your family will not be aboard when we arrive in New York!”

“We paid our passage.”

“And I shall refund every penny of it.”

“You can’t do that!”

“Mrs. Pike,” Miles said, suspecting that not using her title was an insult. “I own this ship. I can do anything I like.”

“The captain will not let you do this,” she shrieked, and immediately cleared her throat as if trying to explain the sudden shrill in her voice.

“He will if he wants to keep his job.”

Andrea stepped up to his elbow, her head held high. “It shall be ironic if one of my father’s ships should take you aboard. His captains are like family to us. When they hear what you have said, and how you have treated the man my father handpicked for his only child to wed, you shall be lucky not to swing from the yardarms. And who will be the wiser if you and your family disappear? No captain who works for my father would tolerate my abuse at your hands, nor would they wish to anger the man my father selected to someday become owner of the James Common Shipping Company.”

31

His suite never felt so small. Andrea was so tense, she looked like she would shatter into a million pieces if he touched her.

“May I have a moment to myself?” she asked, pointing into the other room.

Her accent sounded overly refined and Miles wondered if she consciously did that when she was upset or if it was involuntary.

“No,” he said.

“But….”

“If you’re going to cry, the answer is no. You are my wife—”

“I’m so sorry I shamed you,” she interrupted. “I wasn’t brought up that way, I promise. I-I don’t know what happened. It just came out. Please, don’t be mad at me.”

Miles was taken aback. She was more upset about her own behavior than anything he or Alma Pike said.

“Please, Miles, I just need a few minutes to gather my thoughts.”

“No.”

Andrea bit her lip and stared at his unyielding face. She could see he was angry.

“I understand we need to address my behavior but….”

“Andi, we don’t need to address your behavior. You didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t want you to go into the other room to cry. Of course, I prefer you not cry at all, but if you must, then I want you to do it in my arms, so I can comfort you.”

Andrea stared at him and bit her lip, not grasping what he was saying. Of course, they needed to address her behavior. She lost her temper in public. How she behaved directly reflected on him. She had worked so hard her whole life so she could someday be, if not the perfect wife, at least the best one she could be, and she had not even made it one hour into her marriage before her inferior bloodlines revealed themselves.

How could he expect her to cry in front of him? She had not cried in front of another person since she was a child. Well, maybe she had given into tears in her bed at Miss Whitecott’s School, but it was dark, and she hadn’t made any sound so Rita wouldn’t hear.

Rather than argue, which would have just added to her transgressions, Andrea took a seat at the edge of the sofa, her posture erect and unforgiving, her eyes on her hands folded in her lap.

Miles sighed, not sure how to deal with her when she was like that. Did he expect her to run into his arms and weep, just because he had offered? Of course, she would not cry. He said he preferred that she did not and so she would comply because that was what she had been trained to do. He suspected if he pulled her into his embrace right now, that she would feel as unyielding as a porcelain doll.

Miles moved past her into the bedroom and removed his frock coat and tie, putting them away in the wardrobe which was now crowded with her dresses. He could not help but smile at the sight. They were married, he reminded himself. It did not feel real yet. The smile died on his lips as he thought of the uphill battle he was going to have to fight to get her comfortable with the prospect of making love. Her present mood was not going to make it any easier.

An idea entered his head as he spied a deck of cards he and Rory had used to pass the time on the voyage to England.

“Andi, do you play cards?”

“Just children’s games when I was little.”

“Have you ever played Twenty-One?” he asked, returning to her in the sitting room.

“No. You’re not a gambler, are you?”

The sound of alarm in her voice made him chuckle. “I played a bit at Yale, but honestly, I prefer solitaire to poker.” He sat down next to her and began shuffling the cards. “I thought we might play a little Twenty-One and the winner of each hand wins a small boon.”

Andrea gasped. “This isn’t going to be one of those games where the loser has to take off an article of clothing, is it?”

“Mrs. Huntington! Where did you hear about a game like that?”

“At school….”

“It must have been a very progressive school,” he teased with a boyish grin that made her breath catch in her throat.

“Daughters of dukes and marquesses are educated there,” she said in defense of her school.

“Ah, that explains it,” Miles said in a tone so dry it made Andrea laugh. “Nothing like that—”

“Then what?”

“The winner might make a small request or ask a question they were curious about. We will play a friendly game, so if you do not want to do what I ask, then you do not have to. Fair enough?”

She agreed and he thoroughly explained how to play the game.

“I’ll be the dealer.”

She eyed him with mock suspicion. “Planning to stack the deck?”

Miles’s face became dark. “Are you accusing me of cheating before we even started?”

When he saw her pale, he immediately regretted his mock glower and a small grin broke out on his face to show her he was not truly angry. “I’m teasing you,” he said, reaching his hand to her cheek and stroking her jaw with his thumb. “I do that a lot.”

They played a couple of practice hands with no boons exacted to make sure she understood.

Andrea lost the first hand when she drew a jack to go with the five and seven she already had. She cast big blue eyes at him awaiting his request, her heart beating unusually hard in her chest since she had no idea what he would ask of her.

He tapped his thumb on his chin as if contemplating what to ask. “You are going to be quite shocked at my first request. You will wonder what kind of an uncouth heathen you have married.” He paused giving her time to ponder that statement. “I would like to remove my socks and shoes and have permission to do so anytime I want at home. My mother used to get so frustrated at me over the way I never wanted to wear them. It seems to me, I should be able to walk around barefoot in my own home or stateroom.”

Andrea’s hand flew to her mouth as she giggled. “Indeed! That is your first boon?” She had imagined he would ask to touch her breasts or ask her to go into the bedroom immediately and give herself to him. Her giggle was as much a nervous twitter of relief, as it was humor at his strange request. “Granted,” she said with a flourish of her hand.  Within a minute, his feet were bare.

Andrea won the next hand. She was at a loss what her prize should be. What she really wanted was a reprieve from making love, but she doubted he would ever grant it.

“I stole a great deal of money from my father when I ran away. Would it be possible for me to work when we get to New York so I may pay him back?”

Miles wanted to point out that neither he, nor her father would miss the amount of money she had stolen, but he realized this was a matter of principle, not money.

“About that—you know your father will expect me to learn his business so one day I can take over for him.”

“Yes, it wouldn’t make sense for your cousin to run it now.”

Miles eyed her with confusion. She heard him tell Lady Pike that they had been betrothed for three years; did she think he was just saying that to put off Lady Pike? Then it occurred to him that was exactly what she must have thought, or she would have confronted him about his duplicity already.

“You know I would gladly pay your debt.”

“You didn’t steal the money.”

He sighed. “Since that is your boon, how can I say no? Would you like to come to work with me or somewhere else?”

“It really wouldn’t do to have me working in a public setting. I can only imagine what people would say. Although, I had Miss Whitecott bring in a bookkeeping tutor for me, and I could help you with your books if you need help, I would prefer to tat. I can do it from home and it could be discreetly sold to the dressmakers.”

“Tat? I’m afraid I don’t know what that is.”

“Tatting is a form of lacemaking. I also crochet lace, but I enjoy tatting more. Our home was covered in lace doilies and tablecloths that I made. I even made a wedding veil when I was twelve.”

Andrea fell silent, wishing she had the veil with her when they married earlier. In all of her imaginings, that was the one constant.

“We can have another ceremony when your parents catch up,” he said, sensing her mood shift.

“If my father doesn’t try to have it annulled.”

“Your father likes me. I think he will be happy. But just in case, we will have to do our best to make sure it cannot be annulled.”

Seeing Andrea turn beet red, Miles shuffled the cards again and dealt another hand. When the hand was over, it was Miles’s turn to claim a boon.

“I would feel more comfortable being barefooted if you were also.”

Andrea looked reluctant, but after a moment, she slipped off her shoes. When she reached under her skirts for her stockings, Miles stopped her. “I would give up my next two boons if you lift your skirt up to your knees and let me see your legs while you take off your stockings.”

He could not miss how fast her breathing became. He wondered if it was fear or excitement.

“I am your wife now. You don’t have to give up your favors to see my legs.”

His head tilted to one side, completely astonished that she would not embrace the idea of taking two more boons in exchange for the small intimacy. He might have asked her to leave her skirt up to her knees if he only had her blush to gauge her reaction, but he could not help but notice the tremble in her hands as she peeled off the white silk stockings. Her legs were long and slender, her ankles delicate. Her feet, although not disproportionate to the rest of her body, were a little larger than most women’s, but narrow and nicely shaped.

“Ah, the feet I’ve been wanting to see for five years,” he teased, not suppressing a smile at the thought of their dance so many years earlier.

“I warned you they were uncommonly long. You should hear the cobbler’s wife clucking every time I need new shoes.”

Before she had a chance to push her skirts back to the floor, he leaned forward and kissed her, one hand finding her calf and running his fingertips along the swell in the back for a brief moment.

“Thank you,” he said withdrawing.

Andrea forced a pleasant smile to her lips. She felt more like running, than sitting still and playing cards. When his hand touched her calf, her heart slammed in her chest and her whole body felt a conflicting reaction. It hadn’t hurt, in fact, it was quite nice, but her brain was telling her to push him away.

Miles brushed her skirts, making the hem fall back to the floor so she would not feel exposed or uncomfortable.

The next hand was a draw as they both had twenty, so Miles dealt another hand. Andrea won the next hand and asked a question for her prize.

“Do you think your friendship with your cousin will survive when he finds out we married?”

“Yes.”

No explanation, just a simple
yes
before he scooped up the cards, shuffled them and dealt another hand. He won.

“I would like to kiss your three freckles.”

A genuine smile broke out on her face. “Oh! Do you like them?”

“I love them. I wanted to kiss them since the first day they appeared.”

She leaned closer to him and turned her cheek slightly. He kissed the first one on her cheek, then the one on her nose. He returned his lips to her cheek and lightly pressed his lips to the last little spot.

“I might have to use my next boon to kiss them again,” he said. He liked the way those three little freckles made her happy, and he took immense pleasure in seeing her reaction.

“You may kiss them any time without using your boons.”

Miles won the next hand, but picked up the cards and began shuffling the deck before he even told her what he wanted.

“Sometime tomorrow, I want you to order bread pudding and eat a few bites.”

He saw her recoil slightly. “I’ll try. I always get a big lump in my throat when I think of eating it.”

He felt her mood shift again and dealt another hand before she could dwell on her past transgression. Andrea won the next hand.

“And what is your next boon, Andi?”

The color rose in her cheeks again, and he wondered if he would ever tire of seeing it. Her eyes lingered on the cards as she said in a shy voice, “I’d like you to kiss me again the way you kissed me earlier.”

She immediately regretted asking. Her eyes met his fleetingly, gauging his reaction. Was it brazen to ask for such a thing? Would he think she wanted to hasten their visit to the marriage bed?

“You want me to kiss you the way I kissed you after the wedding?”

“Yes.” Her voice was a mere whisper.

Andrea could not forget the way the kiss made her feel. Her whole body reacted in a way that made her feel breathless and her core trembled with liquid warmth.

“Come sit across my lap.”

“Are you going to touch my legs again?”

Miles hesitated. Which answer did she want to hear? “Do you want me to?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

He could see the uncertainty in her face and like a mantra, his brain kept repeating, “Go slow. Go slow.”

Initially, she sat across his knees, but he reached around her and pulled her close. “Am I not too heavy?”

“No.”