Trials of Artemis (11 page)

"I...
yes?"

He
smiled. "So dubious."

She
tried to smile but was afraid she was failing miserably at it. Gideon leaned
close to her ear and whispered, "Trust me." She shuddered as his
breath caressed her neck. He had leaned close enough to her that she could feel
the heat from his body and found herself leaning into it like a chilly traveler
drawn towards a hearthfire. She feared that he made her wanton, but feared more
that he would step back from her. He nuzzled her neck and she released her
pent-up breath in a sigh. His kisses and nibbles made their way to her jaw,
then the side of her mouth. She was beginning to feel boneless and her entire
being focused on the pleasure his lips were bringing to her. At long last he
took her lips with his own, pulling her body tightly against him. He thrust his
tongue into her mouth to caress and swirl against her own and she felt her
reaction move from surrender to something more primal and demanding. Her hands
clutched at his shoulders then went to his hair, his face. The rough texture of
his day's growth of beard excited her and she could hear herself making a
mewling sound in her throat. His hands moved down to her hips and he pulled her
even more intimately against himself. She felt a hard ridge against her belly
but was too caught in the moment to be shocked. Her breasts felt swollen and
there was a needy ache pulsing from where her body pressed against his. She
wanted to wriggle and rub against him like a cat. He tore his mouth from hers
and then stood there with his forehead against hers, his eyes closed and his
breathing labored.

"We
need to stop."

"Why?"

He
laughed. "I said you could trust me."

"I
do trust you." She gave in to her need and wriggled against him. His hands
clamped more securely against her hips to make her stop.

"Jacqueline."

"Jackie."

He
kissed her forehead, her temple. "Jackie."

"Yes,
Gideon?"

"We
need to stop."

"Yes,
Gideon," she said. But she moved her lips to his and the kiss began again.
One of his hands slid up from her hip until it was cupping her breast, the
thumb tracing lazy circles around her puckered nipple. The pleasure was so
intense that it was agony. She didn't know what she wanted but she knew there
was something more, something with far fewer clothes and more intimate
touching. He was pulling away from her again and she clutched at him
desperately.

"Dinner
has arrived," he said.

She
growled and kissed his throat.

"Jackie,"
he said again. "You need to eat. I'm not sure you've eaten at all
today."

He
had successfully distracted her from her intense desire and she sighed.
"No, I was too nervous before the wedding."

Stepping
back he held out his arm to her. "Let me take you to dinner,
countess."

She
slipped her hand in the crook of his elbow and allowed him to lead her out to
his sitting room where his footmen had laid out a meal on a round table near
the window. One footman remained and stood at attention as they entered. Gideon
held out Jack's chair for her and she settled into it with as much decorum as a
half-naked woman who had just been thoroughly kissed could muster. The footman
held out the earl's chair and then asked, "Would you like for me to serve,
my lord?"

"No,"
Gideon said. "I think we would like to be... alone."

The
footman nodded and slipped out the door to the hallway.

Now
that her ardor had cooled, Jack was feeling self-conscious again. Gideon was
busily filling her plate with choice tidbits, seemingly unconcerned with her
murmured answers and shy nods as he tried to discern which items she wanted to
eat. After he had filled his own plate and made sure they both had wine he
said, "We gave the footman something to talk about. And I suppose it goes
without saying, but just in case it doesn't, if you ever do that," he
waved his fork to indicate the doorway to his bedroom, "with another man, I
will kill him."

Jack
set her wine down with a thump. The shock of the whole situation was wearing
off and she felt prickles of irritation. "And if you ever do that with
another woman I will kill you," she announced, stabbing at her beef
tenderloin with her fork. She didn't even look at her husband for fear of what
his face might betray at her statement. Amusement? Pity?

After
a few moments he said, "Aren't we a pair?"

She
continued to chase the food around her plate with violent little stabs of her
fork. She should have remembered that he was at heart an arrogant, overbearing
clout. And it was not to be forgotten exactly how they had met as a consequence
of his planning a liaison with another woman. Which reminded her of another
thing.

"I
should still like to know who talked to the nosy popinjay at the paper.
There were too many details for it not to be someone
very familiar with the evening.”

"You
didn't give your parents the details?" Gideon asked.

Jack
did look up then, to see Gideon lounged back in his chair studying her with a
lazy scrutiny. "No, but why would that matter?"

"Your
mother was obviously in favor of the match."

"You're
impugning my mother?"

He
shrugged. "Some women will do almost anything in order to secure a good
marriage for their daughters. What is a little scandal in comparison to having
your daughter marry an earl? Or it could have been your father determined to
see me do the right thing by you, especially if he suspected we were planning
to call off the engagement."

She
began tearing apart her dinner roll into tiny pieces. "My parents did not
know the details of the evening, or if they did they didn't hear those details
from me. And I also didn't talk to them about our agreement, that we could call
off the engagement if the details didn't emerge."

"I
don't remember that being an agreement. I remember that being a plan that you
continued to advocate."

"You
were the first one to complain that you never wanted to marry!"

Gideon
set his jaw. "I was also the one to offer marriage and seemed most willing
to do the right thing."

"Because
of your pride."

"It's
a matter of honor," he said cooly.

"Which
you are undoubtedly very proud of."

"Why
are we even arguing about this?"

"You
treat me like I'm a doxy and that isn't very gentlemanly of you." She
started to feel tears burn the corners of her eyes but she willed them away. No
more tears. Not over this.

Gideon
set down his wine and began rubbing his forehead, looking very much like a man
trying not to lose his temper. He finally sighed, his hands folded in front of
him in an almost prayerful position. He nodded. "You're right, I
apologize."

Jack
was shocked enough she thought she had misheard him. "You what?" she
asked before she could stop herself.

He
raised a brow at her but repeated it. "I apologize, Jacqueline. You have
not done anything in particular to make me question your loyalty. At least not
yet. It's just easy to imagine that a young woman of your beauty and
temperament who hasn't had a great number of suitors could be swayed by a
handsome rake bent on seducing her."

She
raised her own eyebrows. "You think I'm daft."

He
started to look irritated again. "No, I don't think you're daft."

"You
think that some pretty face spouting poetry will make me compromise my own
honor."

He
gazed down into his nearly empty wineglass. "As I recall it didn't require
poetry and you hadn't even seen my face."

She
had thrown her own glass of wine at him before she even realized her hand had
moved. She lurched from her chair, fury burning in her chest. "How dare
you!"

He
also rose, wiping wine from his eyes and looking equally furious. "How
dare I? In what way am I speaking anything other than the truth of the
matter?"

Jack
fled the room before she could start throwing cutlery. She slammed the door
that divided their rooms but discovered there was no lock on her side. How
typical of their entire relationship that seemed. She dragged one of her trunks
full of books across the room and lodged it firmly against the door. She didn't
dig out one of the fancy knives that Sabre had sent her from Spain as she knew
she would be too tempted to use it on him. Instead she searched through the
trunks until she found her copy of the
Iliad
and then read in her sitting room until she dozed off in her chair in the early
morning hours.

Gideon
was cutting his breakfast ham with a good deal more force than necessary. He
was still irritated with the final confrontation between himself and his wife
the night before. He hadn’t been unreasonable, he didn’t think, pointing out
that she had been quite receptive to his advances. First, before she knew him
at all. The second time when she had been bent on calling off their unwise
engagement. Even last night it could be reasoned that she would have had
reservations but instead she had been like a cat in heat, all sensual movement
and hot demand. He hardened at the memory of those occasions which served to make
him more irate.

He
saw his footman move to hold out the chair on the other end of the table and
realized she had entered the room. She was wearing a morning gown the color of
freshly churned butter and the soft fabric glided over her figure to float in a
small flare around her feet. She had paused at the door and was looking over
the table.

"Couldn't
I sit closer to my husband?" she inquired softly. The footman immediately
gathered up the place setting and almost stumbled in his haste to do his new
countess's bidding. She settled into the chair at Gideon's right elbow with the
delicacy and grace of a butterfly alighting on a bush. She appeared ready to
resume their campaign of convincing the staff that theirs was a love match, but
he wasn't sure he had the stomach for it just now.

"Good
morning, Gideon."

"Good
morning, Jacqueline."

She
was selecting items from the trays that the footmen offered to her. Her eyes
looked shadowed this morning as though she hadn't slept. Gideon would have
expected her to have enjoyed the sleep of the righteous after her magnificent
show of temper followed by dragging some heavy piece of furniture in front of
her door. He had considered shoving it out of the way just to prove that he
could, but continuing a screaming match didn't seem like the best way to cap
off their first day together as a married couple.

He
would do best to remember that he thought, looking at her more carefully. She
was his wife. No matter what else they might think, they were now together.
Forever. Even beyond death if the vicars were to be believed. She was his
responsibility and this morning she looked tired. But she was trying her best
to be cheerful and gracious.

"You
could have had your breakfast in bed," he offered.

"Oh,
no. I've always come down to breakfast. It's one of my favorite meals. It's the
best family meal."

Gideon
felt a small lurch in his heart. A family meal. His family had rarely all taken
meals together and when they did it was always a formal dinner. The idea of
having a new family where everyone wanted to have breakfast together seemed odd
but strangely uplifting.

"Also,"
she said softly while buttering her toast, leaning in as though she were
sharing a confidence. "I accept your apology."

"You
what?"

She
looked up at him and smiled, seemingly tickled by his surprised tone. "I
accept your apology. We are both in the habit of making horrible assumptions
about each other."

He
frowned, not sure he was ready to easily let go of their confrontation from the
night before.

"And
thus I must apologize myself for making assumptions," she continued.
"In addition to apologizing about the wine."

She
went back to her breakfast, apparently content. What a riddle his wife was. But
he supposed he had the rest of their lives to figure her out. Provided they
didn't kill each other first.

Gideon
gave her a tour of the house and grounds that day and within a week they
settled into a routine. Riding together early in the morning, breakfast, then
Gideon went to his office to work on his accounts while Jack worked with Mrs.
Gladstone on menus and other household chores. Lunch together followed by each
of them going off in individual pursuits, a time that Jack usually spent in the
library. Afternoon tea. Dinner. They remained warily polite to each other,
rarely talking about more than the weather or mundane household topics.

Jack
used that time to study her new husband. His staff adored him and he was a kind
and considerate employer. He was diligent, usually using his afternoons to
visit his tenants with Phillip Gladstone in tow like an obedient puppy. Phillip
was, she learned, Mrs. Gladstone's son. It seemed the Wolfes had a tradition of
keeping as many members of a family in their employ as possible. She also noted
that Gideon received a steady stream of mail from London, many of the packages
looking like weighty documents she assumed were from the sessions of
Parliament. He churned through his correspondence relentlessly, sending out
almost as many items per day as he received.