Not Always a Saint (17 page)

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Authors: Mary Jo Putney

BOOK: Not Always a Saint
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“Do I please you, Jessie?”
To her surprise, there was a note of uncertainty in his voice. Perhaps he was inexperienced with mating in carriages. Well, so was she, but based on what had just happened, she was ready to make it a permanent part of their love life. “Indeed, you did. I might never move again. It's been so long. . . .” She hummed with contentment.
“So long?” he asked.
Some intimacies were too personal to share, but she saw no harm in explaining this. “Philip was almost fifty years older than I. It was a great scandal in some circles when we wed. But we truly cared for each other, and for him, it was a second springtime. He'd had a long and happy marriage, and he knew how to please a wife. There was such sweetness between us.”
“A blessing for you both, and one that produced Beth,” Daniel said softly.
“The greatest blessing of my life.” She sighed a little. “But he was so much older. The sweetness never faded, but the springtime did.”
“A lovely thing about the seasons is that they come round again and again.” His hand stroked down her back. “And all seasons are beautiful in their own way.”
She smiled to herself as her eyes drifted shut. Soon she'd have to move and they'd have to straighten their clothing and try to look less wanton.
Then they could settle down in Milton Manor for a week, and celebrate a new season of their lives.
Chapter 22
M
ilton Manor was a serenely proportioned Palladian-style building, and the closer the carriage drew along the tree-lined drive, the more Jessie admired the structure. “What a beautiful house!” she said as their carriage halted under the porte cochere. “The gardens look lovely as well. I'm surprised the Kirklands don't live here full-time.”
“Kirkland often needs to be in London, but they both like the peace and quiet of the country. Because his principal estate is in Scotland, he bought this place as a convenient retreat,” Daniel explained as he helped her from the carriage. “I've not visited, but my sister says it's a jewel box with all modern conveniences added.”
Jessie took his arm as they ascended the steps. “Perfect for a honeymoon. I'm very ready to relax.”
Daniel gave her a private smile, and she knew that he was thinking of that bed they'd finally get to share. Which might not be relaxing, but it would certainly be invigorating.
They were admitted by a young but properly dignified butler who bowed them into the house. The two-story foyer was decorated in restful shades of cream and light blue, and a magnificent staircase swept up to the floor above.
“Lord Romayne. Lady Romayne. Welcome to Milton Manor. I'm Martin.” He didn't react to their rather disheveled appearances by so much as an eye blink. “The staff and I will be happy to provide whatever you require.”
“A bath,” Jessie said promptly.
“I'd like one also,” Daniel said. “And a light supper after. The food at the wedding breakfast was first-rate, but I ate almost nothing. I was too busy talking to all the guests.”
“So was I.” Jessie chuckled. “We should have asked the Ashton House butler to pack a hamper for us.”
Martin managed to look disapproving without moving a muscle. “I'm sure you'll find the cuisine of Milton Manor acceptable.”
“I don't doubt it,” Daniel said peaceably. “I'm sure the wine cellar is extraordinary as well.”
Mollified, Martin said, “Lord Kirkland has excellent taste in wine and spirits. Let me escort you to your rooms now so you can refresh yourselves.”
“I hope I don't fall asleep in the bath,” Jessie said as they climbed the grand staircase. “It's been a tiring day.”
“And it's not over yet,” Daniel murmured provocatively.
Their rooms were as splendid as the rest of the house, with bright bouquets of autumn flowers. In the spacious sitting room, Martin said, “Lady Romayne, your dressing room is to the right. Lord Romayne, yours is to the left. There is a hip bath in each, and hot water will be brought up directly. Ring if you need anything more.” With another bow, he was gone.
Jessie peered into her dressing room. “All my luggage has magically appeared here, and what a splendid large hip bath! There's a fire burning in the fireplace to warm the room. Clearly they were ready for us.”
“The staff probably gets bored since the Kirklands aren't here full-time, so they welcome the opportunity to be busy.” Daniel looked into his dressing room. “Another large hip bath and fire. A drinks table as well. Do you have one?”
Jessie took a second look. “Yes, there's a table with bottles and glasses. I've never been so pampered in my life!”
Daniel laughed. “Laurel apologized for the fact that they haven't yet installed built-in bathing tubs, but this seems quite fine to me. She and I often ate in the kitchen in Bristol. Since most of our servants were training to go into service, the results were sometimes erratic. Milton Manor obviously is up to Kirkland's standards.”
“I can't wait to see the bedroom.” Jessie crossed the sitting room and threw open the double doors to reveal the adjoining bedroom. “Good heavens! That is the largest bed I've ever seen,” she said, awed by the massive four-poster. The canopy and counterpane were richly woven in gold and burgundy brocade. Fit for royalty.
Daniel came up behind her. “Impressive.” He ran a warm hand down her arm. “Should we try it out?”
She laughed and looked up over her shoulder. “Tempting, but I do want that bath and supper!”
He patted her bottom appreciatively. “Until later, then.”
By the time Jessie returned to her dressing room, servants were filling the tub, having entered by a door leading into the corridor. A cheerful young maid bobbed a curtsy. “I'm Elsa, my lady, and I'll be looking after you during your stay. What scent would you like added to your bath water?” She gestured at a collection of small bottles.
Naturally Jessie had to take a sniff of each. The scents were marvelous. She wondered if they'd been blended by Lady Kiri Mackenzie, the wife of another Westerfield old boy, and a talented perfumer. With difficulty, Jessie settled on a fragrance based on roses, though other subtle scents were present as well.
As Elsa unlaced her gown, the girl said, “A gift was sent to await your arrival. I took the liberty of brushing it out and hanging it in the wardrobe. There was a note included.” She handed Jessie a folded piece of paper whose wax seal bore the Ashton coat of arms.
Jessie broke the seal and read the note.
Dear Jessie,
Though you said that you would continue to wear half mourning in public, Julia and I thought you might like to have something deliciously decadent to wear for Daniel. We hope you both enjoy it!
—Mariah
When she glanced up, Elsa ceremoniously opened the door of the large wardrobe. Hanging inside was a sumptuous scarlet satin gown. A richly patterned scarlet and black shawl hung beside it, and neat kidskin slippers with scarlet embroidery were set below.
“Oh, my!” Jessie gasped as she stepped forward for a closer look. The gown was designed for the boudoir, with full skirts and a built-in train. The bodice laced up the front so a woman could put it on without assistance—and a man could take it off with equal ease. A discreet drawstring around the neckline made it possible to adjust the amount of décolletage from prim to falling off the shoulders.
“Is this a new fashion in London?” Elsa asked in a hushed voice. “I've never seen a gown like it!”
“Nor have I. It's designed for seduction, not public display.” Jessie stroked the heavy satin, which rippled sensuously under her palm. “I'm not sure I dare wear it!”
“That red will look splendid with your dark hair, my lady.” Elsa smiled mischievously. “And what new husband wouldn't like to see his bride in this?”
Elsa was right. The marriage had already been consummated in the carriage, so why not wear something magnificently wicked for the actual wedding night? “I'll wear it to dinner, then.”
Elsa nodded approval and poured the rose bath oil into the hip bath. Jessie took off her cotton robe and sank into the fragrant bath water with a glass of sherry in hand. She felt marvelously decadent. If her father could see her now, he'd die of a heart spasm.
She grimaced into her sherry. Her mother's shocking visit had made her think of her father, and she didn't want to think of either of them. Tonight was for Daniel and her and no one else.
Daniel.
She closed her eyes and leaned against the back of the hip bath and remembered their mad, magnificent coupling in the carriage. What had she been thinking? She laughed softly to herself. It was obvious what she'd been thinking.
Tonight they could take all the time they wanted, then sleep in each other's arms and wake to do it again. No wonder a wedding trip was known as the moon of honey.
 
 
Rosy from her bath and with her hair swooped up in an elegant mass that would tumble easily around her shoulders, Jessie donned her amazing new gown. The laces were black silk cords with oval pearls fastened on the ends. She tightened the lacing enough to give her an hourglass figure, which was easy since the billowing skirt and flowing bodice lent themselves to that shape. But she didn't tighten the cords so much as to interfere with her eating. It had been a long day, and she was hungry and not in the mood to nibble daintily. Except, perhaps, on Daniel.
She kept the décolletage relatively modest since she should leave a few surprises for her new husband to uncover. Turning, she checked her appearance in the long mirror. She looked like a pirate wench or a really expensive courtesan.
Behind her, Elsa said in a hushed voice, “You're beautiful, my lady! Would you like the shawl? The corridors will be chilly as it gets dark.”
The shawl would also spare male servants from having a heart attack if they saw her. “Yes, please.”
She draped the wrap around her shoulders. Except for the bright gleam of gold earrings, she was all scarlet and black. Perfect for a wicked woman.
“Has Lord Romayne gone down yet?” When Elsa nodded, Jessie said, “Then I have a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to make a grand entrance. Thank you, Elsa.”
The skirt was perfectly proportioned, short enough in front to show her black slippers and black silk stockings, and allow her to walk easily as the longer length in back whispered silently behind her. Buoyant with anticipation, she walked to the top of the grand staircase, and called, “Daniel?”
He stepped from the dining room and looked up. Smiling mischievously, she began descending the steps, one hand gliding down the banister so she wouldn't trip and fall unromantically at her new husband's feet.
She'd almost reached the bottom when she realized that Daniel seemed stunned, not dazzled. She stopped, clenching the railing, and feeling like an idiot.
He was a vicar, for heaven's sake! How could she have forgotten that?
“Harlot!”
Her father's raging voice echoed through her mind.
“You're a wicked slut like your mother! A filthy disgrace! You'll burn forever in hell!”
“I look like the Whore of Babylon,” she whispered in humiliation. “I-I'm so sorry. I'll change into something more respectable.” She spun around to escape, and tripped on the long trailing hem. For a panicked moment she was falling.
Then Daniel was there, one arm around her waist and his other hand anchoring them to the banister. “Good God, never think such a thing!” he exclaimed. “I was just stunned. Whenever I think no woman could ever be lovelier, you turn around and are even more beautiful, and my brain becomes numb.”
Her voice was unsteady. “I thought you looked horrified.”
“Stunned, but in a good way.” He kissed her temple. “I do hope I become somewhat accustomed to how lovely you are, or I'll be useless for the rest of my life.” He descended to the bottom and offered his hand to assist her down the last steps as if she were made of spun glass.
It was impossible to doubt the sincerity in his voice, but her nerves were still twanging violently. “The gown was a gift from Mariah and Julia, and it's quite clear what it was designed for,” she explained apologetically. “I should have saved it until you become a little bored with me.”
“I can't imagine that happening ever.” Side by side, they entered the dining room, where the staff had done their considerable best to create a perfect romantic dinner. A fire crackled quietly, candles glowed with flattering gentleness, and flower arrangements filled the air with subtle fragrances. The two place settings on the table were at right angles and close enough for the two of them to touch.
“I can already see normal life will seem sadly slow once we return to it,” Jessie said as Daniel pulled out her chair.
“We haven't even worked out what and where normal life will be,” Daniel said as he seated himself. “But I'm not designed for a life of leisure. I'll have to build a few hospitals to keep me busy.”
“Is that a joke? I suspect not,” she said curiously.
Conversation was suspended as Martin and the footman entered with trays of food. A variety of dishes were set on the table within easy reach, along with bottles of red and white wines. The butler said, “We can give you traditional service, but Lady Kirkland thought you might enjoy serving yourselves in privacy.”
“My sister knows me well.” Daniel poured a bit of white wine into his glass and tasted it. His eyebrows lifted. “So does my brother-in-law. I think we'll do fine on our own.” He poured wine for Jessie.
“Ring if you wish anything more, my lady, my lord.” The servants withdrew, leaving them blessedly alone.
Replying to Jessie's earlier question, Daniel said, “Starting new hospitals is no joke. The previous Lord Romayne was a keen and talented financial speculator, and he left a very substantial fortune. I now have the pleasant task of deciding how to spend it. I started a Zion House infirmary and dispensary in London, and I'd like to establish cottage hospitals in rural areas where I've worked and seen the need. The rich can get medical care in their own homes, but so many haven't the resources they need. Can you imagine trying to get a man with a broken leg up a ladder in a damp, tiny hovel?”
Jessie winced. “Unfortunately, I can. Actually, we could use a cottage hospital in the village of Kelham. I thought about it, but I wasn't sure where to start. How would you go about this?”
“I'd start with a good-sized house with several ground-floor rooms for patients, and quarters above for trained nurses and servants to care for the patients,” he explained, his eyes bright with enthusiasm. “Many women already have basic nursing skills. Lady Julia and I have discussed establishing training programs where women can apprentice with more experienced nurses to learn what is needed.”
“This sounds wonderful and feasible, but we do need to eat.” Jessie stabbed a buttered prawn and held the fork to his lips.

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