Once and Always (45 page)

A low groan erupted from Jason’s chest and his restraint shattered. He plunged into her partway and eased out, plunging deeper the next time, and the next, until she arched her hips beneath him and he drove his full length into her incredible warmth. Sweat dampened his forehead as he fought down the tormenting demands of his own body and began to move slowly within her, watching her face. Her head tossed on the pillows as she strained toward him in trembling need, pressing her hips hard against his pulsing thighs, reaching for the bursting fulfillment he was determined to give her. He heard her low, frantic gasp and began to steadily increase the tempo of his deep, driving thrusts. “Reach for it, Tory,” he rasped out hoarsely. “I’ll give it to you. I promise.”

A shivering ecstasy pierced Victoria’s entire body, sending streaks of pleasure curling through her that came faster and faster until they erupted in an explosion that tore a scream from her throat. Jason bent his head and kissed her one last desperate time, and then he drove into her, joining her in sweet oblivion.

Afraid his weight would crush her, he moved onto his side, pulling her with him, his body still intimately joined with hers. When his labored breathing finally evened out, he kissed her forehead and smoothed her rumpled, satiny hair off her forehead. “How do you feel?” he asked softly.

Victoria’s long curly lashes fluttered up and eyes like deep blue pools of languid wonder gazed into his. “I feel like a wife,” she whispered.

He laughed huskily at that, tracing his finger along the elegant curve of her cheek, and she snuggled against him. “Jason,” she said, her voice throbbing with emotion as she raised her eyes to his. “There’s something I want to tell you.”

“What?” he asked, smiling tenderly.

Very simply, and without embarrassment, she said, “I love you.”

His smile faded.

“I do. I lov—”

He pressed his finger to her lips, silencing her, and shook his head. “No, you don’t,” he said with quiet, implacable firmness. “Nor should you. Don’t give me more than you already have, Tory.”

Victoria averted her eyes and said nothing, but his rejection hurt her more than she imagined possible. Lying in his arms, his words came back to haunt her . . .
I don’t need your love. I don’t want it.

Outside in the hall, Franklin tapped on the door, intending to see if Lord Fielding desired help with the packing. When there was no answer to his knock, Franklin assumed his lordship must be elsewhere in the suite and, as was his custom, he opened the door unbidden.

He took one step into the dimly lit room and blinked, his startled gaze riveting on the couple lying in the huge four-poster, then bouncing in horror to the pile of clothes that Jason had been removing from his armoire and that were now lying in an ignominious heap upon the floor beside the bed. The diligent valet bit his lip against the overwhelming impulse to tiptoe forward and disentangle his lordship’s exquisitely tailored evening jacket from the pants legs of his buckskins. Instead, Franklin wisely backed out of the room, closing the door with a soft click.

Once out in the hall, his distress over Lord Fielding’s abused garments gave way to delayed joy at what he had just witnessed. Turning, he rushed down the hall and out onto the balcony overlooking the foyer below. “Mr. Northrup!” he whispered loudly, leaning precariously over the railing and beckoning frantically to Northrup, who was standing near the front door. “Mr. Northrup, I have news of great import! Come closer so we shan’t be overheard.. . .”

Down the hall on Franklin’s left, two alert maids rushed out of the rooms they’d been cleaning, crashed into each other, and elbowed each other aside in their urgency to hear what news Franklin had. On his right a footman suddenly materialized in the hall and began enthusiastically polishing a mirror with beeswax and lemon oil.

“It
has happened!” Franklin hissed at Northrup, cleverly disguising his news in terms so vague he was certain no one could possibly understand even if they overheard.

“Are you certain?”

“Of course I am,” said Franklin, affronted.

A momentary grin cracked Northrup’s rigid features, but he recovered quickly, retreating behind his customary mask of aloof formality. “Thank you, Mr. Franklin. In that case, I shall order the coach back to the stables.”

So saying, Northrup turned and proceeded to the front door. Opening it, he walked outside into the night, where a luxurious, maroon-lacquered coach with the gold Wakefield seal emblazoned on the door was waiting, its lamps glowing brightly in the darkness. Four gleaming matched chestnuts stamped fitfully in the traces, tossing their heavy manes and rattling their harnesses in restless eagerness to be off. Unable to attract the attention of the liveried drivers sitting erectly atop the coach, Northrup walked down the terraced steps to the drive.

“His lordship,” he said to the coachman in his coolest, most authoritative voice, “will not require your services this evening. You may put the horses away.”

“He won’t be needin‘ the coach?” John coachman burst out in surprise. “But he sent me word himself an hour ago that he wanted the horses put to, and quick!” .

“His plans,” Northrup said frostily, “have changed.”

John coachman expelled a sigh of frustrated irritation and glowered at the uncommunicative butler. “I tell you, there’s been a mistake. He means to go to London—”

“Idiot! He
meant
to go to London. He has now retired for the night instead!”

“At half past seven in the—” As Northrup turned and marched into the house, a wide, understanding smile suddenly dawned across the coachman’s face. Nudging his companion in the ribs, the coachman sent him a sly, laughing look, and said, “Methinks Lady Fielding has decided brunettes are out o‘ fashion.” Then he sent the horses wheeling toward the stables so he could share the news with the grooms.

Northrup walked directly into the dining room, where O’Malley was whistling cheerfully under his breath and putting away the fragile porcelain place setting he had earlier laid out for Victoria’s solitary meal, when he first learned of the master’s sudden intention to visit London. “There has been a change, O’Malley,” Northrup said.

“Aye, Mr. Northrup,” the insolent footman cheerfully agreed, “there certainly has.”

“You may remove the covers from the table.”

“Aye, I already have.”

“However, Lord and Lady Fielding may wish to dine at a later hour.”

“Upstairs,” predicted O’Malley with a bald grin.

Northrup stiffened and then marched away. “Damned insolent Irishman!” he muttered furiously.

“Pompous stuffed shirt!” O’Malley replied to his back.

“Good morning, my lady,” Ruth said, beaming brightly.

Victoria rolled over in Jason’s huge bed, a dreamy smile in her eyes. “Good morning. What time is it?”

“Ten o’clock. Shall I bring you one of your dressing robes?” she asked, glancing around at the telltale tangle of discarded clothing and bedcovers on the floor.

Victoria’s face warmed, but she was too languid, too deliciously exhausted, to feel anything but mild embarrassment at being discovered in Jason’s bed with clothes strewn everywhere. He had made love to her twice more before they fell asleep, and again early this morning. “Don’t bother, Ruth,” she murmured. “I think I’d like to sleep a little longer.”

When Ruth left, Victoria rolled onto her stomach and snuggled deeper into the pillows, a soft smile on her lips. The
ton
thought Jason Fielding was cool, cynical, and unapproachable, she remembered with a secret smile. How stunned they would be if they only knew what a tender, passionate, stormy lover he was in bed. Or perhaps it wasn’t a secret after all, she thought, her smile wavering a little. She’d seen the covetous way married women often looked at Jason and, since they couldn’t possibly have wanted to marry him, they must have wanted him for a lover.

As she thought about that, she remembered how many times she’d heard his name linked with certain beautiful married ladies whose husbands were old and ugly. No doubt there had been many women in his life before her, for he had known exactly how to kiss her and where to touch her to make her body quicken with need.

Victoria pushed those lowering thoughts from her mind. It didn’t matter how many women had known the wild, pagan beauty of his lovemaking, because from now on, he was hers and hers alone. Her eyes were drifting closed when she finally noticed the flat black jeweler’s case resting on the table beside the bed. Without much interest, she pulled her hand from beneath the silk sheets and reached out, opening the catch. A magnificent emerald necklace lay inside, along with a note from Jason that read, “Thank you for an unforgettable night.”

A frown marred Victoria’s smooth forehead. She wished he hadn’t argued when she tried to tell him she loved him. She wished he’d told her he loved her, too. And she particularly wished he’d stop handing her jewels whenever she pleased him. This trinket, in particular, felt unpleasantly like a payment for services rendered. .. .

Victoria awoke with a start. It was nearly noon and Jason had told her his meeting this morning would be over by then. Eager to see him and bask in the warmth of his intimate smile, she dressed in a pretty lavender gown with soft full sleeves gathered into wide cuffs at the wrists. She fidgeted impatiently while Ruth fussed with her hair, brushing it until it glistened, then twisting it into thick curls bound with lavender satin ribbons.

As soon as she was finished, Victoria rushed down the hall, then forced herself to walk at a more decorous pace as she proceeded down the grand staircase. Northrup actually smiled at her when she inquired about Jason’s whereabouts, and when she passed O’Malley in the hall en route to Jason’s study, she could have sworn the Irish footman winked at her. She was still wondering about that when she knocked on Jason’s door and went in. “Good morning,” she said brightly. “I thought you might like to dine with me.”

Jason scarcely glanced in her direction. “I’m sorry, Victoria. I’m busy.”

Feeling rather like a bothersome child who had just been firmly, but politely, put in her place, Victoria said hesitantly, “Jason—why do you work so hard?”

“I enjoy working,” he said coolly.

Obviously he enjoyed it more than her company, Victoria realized, since he certainly didn’t need the money. “I’m sorry for interrupting you,” she said quietly. “I won’t do it again.”

As she left, Jason started to call to her that he had changed his mind, then checked the impulse and sat back down at his desk. He wanted to dine with her, but it wouldn’t be wise to spend too much time with her. He would let Victoria be a pleasant part of his life, but he would not let her become the center of it. That much power over him he would not give any woman.

Victoria laughed as little Billy wielded his mock saber in the field behind the orphanage and ordered one of the other orphans to “walk the plank.” With a black patch over his good eye, the sturdy youngster looked adorably piratical.

“Do you think that patch will do the trick?” the vicar asked, standing beside her.

“I’m not certain. My father was as surprised as everyone else when it worked so well on the little boy back home. When his eye straightened, Papa wondered if, instead of the eye itself being at fault in these cases, perhaps the problem might lie with the muscles of the eye that control its movement. If so, then by covering the good eye, the muscles of the bad eye might strengthen if they were forced into use.”

“My wife and I were wondering if you might honor us for supper tonight, after the children put on their puppet show. If I may say so, my lady, the children here at the orphanage are fortunate indeed to have such a generous and devoted patron as yourself. I daresay there isn’t an orphanage in England whose children possess better clothing or food than these children now do, thanks to your generosity.”

Victoria smiled and started to decline the kindly invitation to supper; then she abruptly changed her mind and accepted it. She sent one of the older children to Wakefield with a message telling Jason she was dining at the vicar’s house, then leaned against a tree, watching the children play pirates and wondering how Jason would react to her unprecedented absence tonight.

In truth, she had no way of knowing if he’d care. Life had become very strange, very confusing. In addition to the jewelry he had given her before, she now owned a pair of emerald earrings and a bracelet to match the necklace, diamond eardrops, a ruby brooch, and a set of diamond pins for her hair—something for each of the five consecutive nights he had made love to her since she had admitted trying to seduce him.

In bed each night, he made passionate love to her. In the morning, he left her an expensive piece of jewelry, then thrust her completely out of his mind and his life until he again joined her for supper and bed. As a result of this odd treatment, Victoria was rapidly acquiring a very lively resentment toward Jason and an even livelier distaste for jewelry.

Perhaps she could have borne his attitude better if he actually worked constantly, but he didn’t. He made time to go riding with Robert Collingwood, to visit with the squire, and to do all sorts of other things. Victoria was granted his company only at supper and then later, when they went to bed. The realization that this was how her life was going to be made her sad, and then it made Tier angry. Today she was angry enough to deliberately stay away from home at suppertime.

Obviously Jason wanted the sort of marriage typical to the
ton.
She was expected to go her way and he his. Sophisticated people did not live in each other’s pockets, she knew; to do so was considered vulgar and common. They didn’t profess to love one another either, but in that regard, Jason was behaving very oddly. He had told her not to love him, yet he made love to her night after night, for hours at a time, drowning her senses in pleasure until she finally cried out her love for him. The harder she tried to hold back the words “I love you,” the more torrid his lovemaking became until he forced the admission from her with his hands and mouth and hard, thrusting body. Then and only then did he let her find the explosive ecstasy he could give or withhold from her.