Mistress of Merrivale (25 page)

“Leo,” she said, taking in his disreputable appearance. Her blue eyes rounded. She held her nose with her thumb and finger. “Something smells.”

Leo chuckled. “Am I that bad?”

“Worse.” She backed up a few steps.

“Is your maid returning?”

“No, I told her to retire for the evening. She spends her half day off looking after her sister and doesn’t get much rest. The poor girl was almost asleep on her feet.”

Leo started to disrobe, dropping his soiled clothes at his feet. “It would be silly of me to wash with cold water when there is a warm bath available.”

Jocelyn inclined her head. “That is why I told Susan not to bother with removing the bath until the morning.”

“A wife beyond compare,” Leo said.

Naked, Leo could feel the weight of her stare and put a swagger in his step, twitching his arse. On reaching the bath, he glanced back. She wasn’t watching him. Some of his good mood shriveled. Shaking his head, he sighed. He was charged with murder. Doubts on her part were understandable.

The bath was a small one and the lukewarm water smelled of flowers, but after days of cold water he sank into the water without complaint. He scrubbed the dirt from his chest and legs, relishing feeling clean and human again instead of like a caged monkey.

“Would you like me to scrub your back?”

“I can’t think of anything I’d enjoy more.” Her open smile went a long way to ease his concerns and exhaustion. “How was your day?”

“Interesting.”

Something in her tone drew his attention. Excitement blazed in her, her lips curved in a secret smile.

“What sort of interesting?”

“Wait until we eat. I ordered a late supper.”

“Now I’m curious.”

She tapped her nose, before she stepped behind him. She grabbed a cloth, lathered it with soap and started to wash his back, her earlier reticence no longer in evidence.

A groan of pleasure whispered from him. “I should get dirty more often.”

“Would you like me to wash your hair? I have a special cleanser my mother makes.”

Leo caught the way the good humor drained from her. Ah, her mother had experienced another episode. He sought a topic to take her mind off her mother’s declining health. “No one has offered to wash my hair before.”

“I hope you enjoy the experience. Tell me about your day,” she said. Color stained her cheeks when she realized what she’d asked. “I’m sorry.”

“As it happens my day was entertaining. Cartwright locked away Bill Jakeson, the blacksmith until he sobered up. I had to listen to his bad singing and slurs against my character for two hours. Once he fell asleep it was peaceful for ten minutes, then the man started snoring. I hold great sympathy for his wife.”

While he talked, she poured water over his head and massaged his head.

“You have magic hands.” The firm press of her fingers made him want to groan. His breath caught as her scent surrounded him. The minutes passed, and his eyes closed to better savor her attentions. Finally, she ceased her rubbing and poured more water over his skull, rinsing away the soap.

“All done.”

“Thank you.” He grasped her hand and pressed a kiss to the delicate skin of her inner wrist, wishing things were different, that shadows didn’t slide over her face when she was with him.

“You’re welcome.”

If Ursula had ever offered to assist him in this manner, he’d have wondered what she wanted in return. Jocelyn aided him because she enjoyed his company. Most of the time. His thoughts led to more sexual ones, the relaxation in his muscles giving way to lust. “How hungry are you, or have you already eaten?”

“I did eat a little, but I find myself hungry again.”

He stood abruptly, the water pouring off his body as he stepped from the bath. Time spent with Jocelyn always made his mind turn to other appetites, ones that had nothing to do with food.

She handed him a towel, which he accepted, giving his body a cursory rub to dry the worst of the moisture clinging to his skin.

“Let me dry your back.”

“Not necessary,” he said, stalking her.

“What are you doing?” Alarm flickered across her face before most of it smoothed away. A small crease remained between her brows.

He checked himself, coming to a halt on seeing the fear she tried to hide. He forced a rueful smile. “I’m not doing a very good job of seducing you.”

“I…sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Would you like me to leave?”

“No! No, of course not.”

“Come, let us go and eat.” He took care to move slowly, so as not to alarm her, and offered her his arm. He escorted her to her bed, a smile tugging at his lips because he was naked and she wore a thin chemise. “I’m sure we appear very dignified.”

She dimpled, and he relaxed a fraction.

He seated her on the edge of the bed and stepped away, casting a rueful glance at his erection. Likely, she had no doubts regarding the direction of his thoughts. He picked up a plate bearing a large slice of meat pie. “This will do nicely.”

Leo took the plate back to the bed and fed her morsels of food. Under his attentions, she unwound. “Tell me about your day,” he said.

“Mother scared Cassie half to death,” Jocelyn said. “I need to find someone to look after Cassie. The baker’s daughter was recommended to me, but her mother flatly refused to allow her to work at the manor.”

“Because of me?”

She avoided his gaze, the action answer enough.

“I’m sorry.”

“You said you didn’t murder those women, and I believe you.”

“Thank you.” Leo set the plate aside. “I’m going to kiss you now. I’m telling you so I don’t frighten you again.”

“Why don’t I kiss you? That way you can be sure it’s what I want.”

Leo couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to the tip of her freckled nose. “That sounds like a good idea to me.”

The brush of her lips against his was almost innocent, yet it propelled hunger through him. His hands tightened on her shoulders, and he gently pushed her down on the mattress. This time he kissed her, taking tiny bites from her mouth, her neck and the creamy curves of her upper breasts. Moving down her body, he kissed the fragrant skin of one inner thigh, tracing his tongue over a small cluster of freckles. “What is that scent?” He breathed deeply, catching the note of lavender and something else. Citrus, maybe?

“Lavender, orange and a hint of cloves.”

“I like it, especially on you.” His lips moved closer to her feminine flesh. Her hips jerked. He smiled against her skin, breathing in her scent. Already her folds glistened, beckoning him to taste. As always he was torn between haste and a leisurely loving. This time speed won out. He buried his tongue in her hot center, feathered his thumb over her nub, delicately teasing while he consumed her. Each moan and twitch he drew from her pushed him harder. He coaxed out another groan and licked her swollen flesh.

“Leo,” she whispered, her hands tugging his wet hair in a silent urge to make her come. “Please.”

Carefully, he closed his mouth around her and sucked. She let out a low moan, her body arching upward and into him. He felt the tiny pulses against his tongue, and before she’d fully relaxed into the mattress, Leo moved and guided his cock into her. He pushed deep and savored her flesh caressing his length. Damn, he liked this part of their marriage. He plunged into her time and again while she held him, murmuring encouragement. A shudder passed through her, and her silken sheath tightened around him. Pleasure grew to a hot, almost painful ache. He kissed her roughly and powered into her with a decisive shove. His muscles locked and he spilled his seed, groaning at the soft, yielding whispers against his ear. For a time, he lost himself in the sensual haze, floating on a cloud of satisfaction.

Finally, he shifted his weight, separating their bodies. He grinned at her. “That was much better than sleeping in my cell.”

“How long is Captain Cartwright intending to keep you locked up?”

“Not for much longer, I hope.”

“I see.” She sat up. “Would you like something else to eat?”

“You don’t usually eat in your room.” Frowning, he pondered her reply as he stood to grab some bread and meat. What did she see? He had a feeling it wasn’t his innocence.

“It’s a special occasion.”

Something in her voice grabbed his attention, warmed him through. “Why?”

“It’s not every day a woman learns she’s going to have a child.”

Leo stared, her words not registering at first. He replayed them in his head. “What did you say?”

“I’m expecting our child.” She grinned at him, clearly delighted. “Are you pleased?”

Joy burst through his chest, broadened his smile. “God, yes!” Leo crossed to her side with three giant steps. He plucked her off the bed to hug her tight. “Are you happy?”

“Oh, yes. I couldn’t be happier. I never thought…I’m very happy, Leo.”

Chapter Thirteen

Leo couldn’t stop smiling the next morning. Not even another day spent with the blacksmith who’d gone on another drunken binge when he’d learned his wife had run off with a travelling salesman could dim his mood. A child. Now if only he and Cartwright could catch the murderer.

“Leo!”

He turned at the hail, his good humor faltering when he saw Hannah enter, Cartwright locking the door after her.

She gave a delicate sniff, her nostrils flaring. He didn’t blame her—the drunken blacksmith smelled of vomit and stale alcohol. The stench clawed the back of his throat every time he returned to the cell.

“How are you?” She set down the basket she carried and looked both left and right. Neither of the battered chairs appeared to pass her scrutiny. Her nose wrinkled and she remained standing.

The blacksmith plunged into another chorus of his song about a limber barmaid named Nelly.

Hannah scowled. “How can you stand this?”

“I have no choice. It’s good of you to visit.”

“I notice your wife doesn’t.”

Leo didn’t bother to reply. In truth he was glad Jocelyn kept her distance. He didn’t want his wife to see him here.

“You’re up early.” He didn’t want to deal with Hannah this morning. Her flirtations were uncomfortable, and she was much like her sister, thinking only of herself, which made her regular visits out of character.

She shrugged. “We have visitors down from London. With their drunken revels I can scarcely hear myself think. I needed a ride to clear my head.”

“Ah, something to distract me. Tell me about your visitors. Anything to take my mind from my present situation.” Leo spoke loudly so Hannah could hear him above the blacksmith. The man halted his singing mid-verse, his head dipping toward his homespun linen shirt. His eyes closed and he snorted, a string of drool dribbling from the corner of his mouth. Leo’s voice rang out above the partial snores. “It’s better when he’s asleep.”

“Disgusting! It’s no wonder that man’s wife ran off.”

“Is it certain she left with a man?”

“Vicar Allenby saw her leave on a cart packed with possessions. The gossips say the vicar tried to talk her out of leaving. Think positively, Leo. At least no one can blame you should they find her body on the moor.”

Leo snorted, aiming a careful smile in her direction. “Divert me.”

Hannah dimpled at him. “I could do this task much better if we were alone in a more romantic place.”

“I’m married,” Leo snapped, cursing inwardly when she grimaced. Damn, farming sheep was easier than questioning people about possible crimes.

Hannah rallied. “Pooh, she’s a poor wife to you. I hear she’s going mad like her mother.”

Anger gripped Leo. His fists tightened at his sides, but he ruthlessly suppressed his natural inclination to snap at her again. “Who told you that?”

“I heard she’s seeing faces in windows and wandering from the house in the middle of the night. Everyone knows it’s dangerous to navigate the moor. Only an imbecile would attempt Dartmoor at night.”

“I’m sure these are merely rumors.” Leo wanted to say more. Jocelyn was no more mad than he was a murderer.

She shrugged. “Rumors always bear an element of truth.”

The smug laughter in her eyes poked his temper. He fought it, not wanting to upset Hannah when he needed her to speak of their visitors. “That is true. Come, I don’t wish to discuss my wife.” He thought of the way Jocelyn had curled in his arms the previous night. She didn’t exhibit any of her mother’s symptoms, and he refused to listen to Hannah’s viperous tongue.

“Several of the usual crowd have come down from London. Peregrine’s friends mostly.” A malicious gleam sparkled in her eyes, and Leo tensed as he wondered the cause. “A few people I hadn’t met before. Peregrine is taking them grouse shooting later today. Sir James is coming for dinner tonight and bringing his house guests with him. I believe we shall be quite a party. I’m sorry you can’t come.” She glanced over her shoulder and leaned closer. “We could always arrange to break you out of jail.”

The blacksmith snored on, undisturbed by their conversation.