Captain Durant's Countess(26)

“We’ve only gone through three boxes!” Maris objected.

“Yes, and you’ve filled up half a ledger. You’ll get eyestrain. Your fingers must be numb, aye? And I’m bored to death standing around watching you work.”

“Well, now that you’ve observed the procedure, perhaps you could be trusted to work on a box of your own.”

Not bloody likely. “I have a better idea. It’s time for our other task.”

“Right n-now?”

She should not look quite so appealing. Her cap was askew, her face dirty. Reyn had been fighting an erection for half an hour.

Well, that’s what he was there for, wasn’t it?

He took her grimy fingers in his hand. “Now. The more often we have relations, the better your chances are for conceiving.” He hoped he was sounding reasonable, though he felt anything but.

Something was wrong with him . . . beyond the usual. Being shut up with Lady Kelby all morning had made him lose what little concentration he had. He’d have to take up whittling or something while she worked. He was going mad.

“I . . . there is a chaise behind the screen.”

He smiled down at her. “I know.” He’d noticed it yesterday as he was organizing boxes. He found the embroidered pillowcases a charming touch.

“We’re just going to get up and—” Her blush deepened.

“Oh, there will be some preliminaries, never fear. I’m not going to fall on you like some crazed animal.” He hoped.

Her hand was still in his and he bent to kiss it. She trembled a little. How gratifying that it was sensitive to his touch. All he had to do was make sure the rest of her was.





Chapter 13


Maris had wanted to remain clothed, but had been overruled. Oddly enough, she was still wearing her garters, stockings, and one shoe. The rest of her clothes—the cap, the pinafore, the sensible brown dress, her petticoat, corset, and chemise—had been removed layer by layer.

Reynold Durant had proved very efficient in her undressing, folding each item with the precision of the best lady’s maid, whispering over her skin until she thought she would burst with impatience. Then there had been slow kisses. Everywhere. He had repeated what he’d done on the work table, but she had been sprawled in comfort on the chaise, dazed and drenched as he licked her as if she were the tastiest sweet.

He had capped that delicious assault with a blissful, blunt entry into her body, resulting in a particularly effervescent kick on her part that resulted in the loss of the other shoe. Losing her footwear around the man was becoming a dangerous habit.

Losing her wits, as well. He had made her press her own fingers between them to stroke herself to sharp bliss as he surged inside her.

Maris was still beneath him, heart beating erratically. She could not imagine going back to the table and working. Pretending all was normal. Reynold Durant had ignited something inside her she hadn’t known existed.

She’d received some pleasure in the past, and had been curious about receiving more. Hence her miserable affair with David. But she really hadn’t had a clue.

She wasn’t about to embark on a sonnet, for this wasn’t love. However, she liked Captain Durant—Reyn, she reminded herself— very much. He had a sense of humor at work and was unfailingly solicitous of her when he joined with her at play. Maris felt treasured for the first time in her life. Henry had always been indulgent, more like a father than a lover, though she knew he cared for her as much as he was able. David had simply used her for his own amusement—to thumb his nose at his uncle and line his pockets with Maris’s pin money.

Perhaps if she gave him the emerald he would leave her alone for good.

“What is it? That was not a sigh of satisfaction. Are you well?” Reyn lifted himself up and stared down at her, and Maris missed his warmth immediately.

The puckered starburst on his shoulder caught her attention and she touched it lightly. “You say this hurts when it rains?”

“And snows. You’re changing the subject. What’s wrong? I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

Maris felt the heat in her cheeks. He had been splendidly rough. And gentle too. “You were perfect. Must I praise your performance like a schoolmistress? You must know you are the schoolmaster here.”

Reyn grinned. “It never does a fellow any harm to hear how content he’s made his lady.”

“I am content. Content as I can be under the circumstances.”

“That’s all right, then.” He rolled to the wall and took Maris with him. She found herself snuggling against him, an entirely unfamiliar, yet cozy, position. It was what most post-coupling couples did, wasn’t it? She felt no urgency whatever to jump off the chaise and get dressed and go back to the mountain of boxes. In fact, she didn’t believe she could stand up at the moment.

“So what was that somber sigh about?”

“You never give up, do you?”

“Oh, I’ve given up on any number of things. Just ask the real schoolmasters. Solving problems is not my forte. I’ll make an exception for you, though.” He kissed her nose. How absurd. But it was rather sweet all the same.

“I don’t want to spoil what we have between us right now. It doesn’t matter.”

He pulled her closer. “Now, you’ve done it. My sister Ginny has a terrier, did I tell you? His name is Rufus. He has a typical terrier’s tenacity, but the dog cannot hold a candle to me when it comes to ferreting out secrets.”

“Can a dog actually ferret? That doesn’t seem right. They are two different species, surely.” How silly she was being, but there was something about talking to this man that called for levity.

“Don’t confound this conversation with science. I might get bored to death and then you’d have to dispose of my body in one of those trunks.”

“I don’t think I could manage it. You are far too . . . large.”

He gave her a naughty wink. “Said the girl to the soldier. Thank you, madam.”

“Oh! I was referring to your height, you wretched man.”

He was still large, even in repose. From a purely artistic standpoint, Reynold Durant was exquisitely sculpted.

“So, tell me what is wrong. Perhaps I can help.”

“There’s nothing wrong. I was just breathing. Did you find my slippers? I could not find them in the dark last night.”

“Ah, yes. I should have told you and saved you some worry. I hid them in my saddlebag. None of the servants will be the wiser. I should tell you, I’m not used to such coddling. A veritable parade of footmen and maids came in this morning with breakfast and oceans of hot water and fresh sheets. I’ll be spoiled before this is over. Ruined for my humdrum life.”

Maris was afraid he was ruining her too. She disentangled herself from his arms and felt her hairpins slip down her back as she sat up. “Bother.”

Reyn caught a curl as it tumbled from her brow. “You have lovely hair.”

“It’s nothing special, just brown.”

“It’s soft. And smells like roses.” He tucked the loose strand of hair behind her ear.

She would have to remember to bring up a brush and comb to the attics so she could make herself presentable after their interludes. Maris supposed some disorder was inevitable moving and unpacking boxes, but she suspected her recent activities would be plain to anyone who had two eyes.

She felt hot.

She felt happy.

“You’d better help me dress. It must be time for luncheon.” She swung her feet to the chilly floor and reached for her chemise. “You can ring for something to eat from your room. I’ll meet you back up here in two hours so we can work a little while longer before we finish for the day. The light won’t hold forever.” She pulled the chemise over her head and struggled with the buttons.

Reyn noticed, then took over the job. Somehow he got his own large hands to behave over the tiny bits of bone and fabric far better than she. “Will you be joining the earl?”

“Oh, no. He takes a tray in the library so he can write and read and eat. He’s very devoted to his work.” She had better luck with the strings of her front-lacing corset and the petticoat tapes.

“That must be lonely for you.”

“Well, that’s one reason I’ve helped him all these years, otherwise I’d never get to see him,” Maris admitted. It had been a grand adventure accompanying him to digs, but organizing and writing about their discoveries was much less stimulating.

“Why can’t we follow suit and have some food sent up here?” Reyn asked.

“I’ve told the servants not to disturb us, and I don’t want to take the chance they’ll find out what’s going on. Look at me!”

“I am. And I quite like what I see.”

Maris waved him away. “You needn’t stoop to flattery. My hair is a nest.”