Authors: Sorcha MacMurrough
“Lord, you don’t need to ask me twice,” he gasped, and surrendered to her utterly.
Several hours later the carriages began to draw up in front of the house. Simon checked his appearance in the pierglass one more time. Gabrielle joined him in front of the mirror and both gave a slow smile of remembered pleasure.
“There’s no doubt we’re a couple, and no doubt at all as to what we’ve been doing all afternoon,” he said with a grin.
“And no doubt what we’re going to be doing all night as soon as we can make our escape without being too rude,” she added with a pert look.
“I adore that dress on you. It matches your eyes so perfectly. You look so lovely in it, I can’t wait to get you out of it.”
She took one step away in alarm. “Now, darling, you promised the last time—”
“I don’t have to have you naked to—”
“No, but every time I think I’ve got my knickers on safely, I lose them again.”
He laughed. “I can’t help it if you’re careless. Perhaps you should fasten the tapes better.”
She rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. “As if that
ever
stops you, darling. I swear you could untie the Gordian knot with those deft fingers of yours. No, I think the only way they’d stay on is if they were made of iron, with a padlock and key.”
He took her hand and kissed it, running his tongue along the back and palm sensually. “Ah, but then I’d have the most marvelous time trying to pick it open with my tool.”
She laughed throatily.
“Or my hands,” he said, kneeling at her feet and sliding his head and hands over the fronts and backs of her thighs, rucking up her ball gown with purposeful intent. “In fact, I think I know something that might unlock you right now.”
“Oh Simon, really.”
He began tonguing the silk, making her already damp drawers saturated with need.
“And you’re going to kiss me all night and taste us on your lips, and it’s going to be so arousing I might just take you out into the garden after all and....”
A tap at their door interrupted their lovemaking and they broke apart hastily.
Randall’s voice came through the door, mildly exasperated. “I say you two, we need to form the reception line downstairs. So if you can tear yourselves away from that bed long enough, and are half way decently dressed, will you please come down?”
“Oh, Simon, Simon, Simon,” she said in an increasingly urgent tone, making him blush.
He gave her a mildly reproachful look, and put Randall out of his misery by opening the door.
Randall’s open mouth snapped shut at last. “Phew. That's a relief. You wags, teasing me like that. I was really starting to get worried about you two. You look wonderful, by the way, both of you. I love the matching waistcoat, so like her eyes.”
They fell in step with each other down the long corridor. “If you could please come down for two hours and promise me you won’t dance every dance with each other?”
“Yes, Randall,” she said meekly, trying not to look at Simon.
But her cousin caught the look. “And no slipping out into the shrubbery. For I plan to take Isolde there later myself.”
Simon gave a lusty groan, but Randall sensed the danger and grasped both their arms firmly to lead them down to the foyer to greet all the Rakehells.
She had ascertained beforehand that Simon danced as well as he did everything else, and led the opening dance in front of nearly the entire Rakehell set. Everyone admired the striking couple, and looked forward to getting to know them better.
After the first dance, Simon was claimed as a partner by Isolde, and Gabrielle’s heart swelled with pride as she watched him. She could tell all the women admired him, but there was no need to be jealous. They were all happily married, and he was as polite and deferential with her cousins' wives as he was with the Dowager Lady Hazelmere.
She renewed her acquaintance with all the Rakehells who managed to attend, the original three founding members, Thomas, the Duke of Ellesmere, Clifford Stone, owner of the impressive Stone Court, and Jonathan Deveril, the vicar of Brimley and Eltham.
The only Rakehells missing were Philip Marshall and Alistair Grant, in London at their law practice, and Alexander Davenport, in Ireland visiting Thomas’s sister Elizabeth and her husband Will.
All the men had to admit Simon was a remarkably bright chap, and all came away with the vague impression that they had met him somewhere before.
The Rakehell wives were not in the least catty, and made Gabrielle feel truly welcome. They teased her about the wonderful man she would be marrying soon.
She certainly hoped so—but now was not the time to speak with the vicar about their rather difficult predicament. There would be time enough in any case. As Simon had said, they would know when the time was right to wed.
So Gabrielle relaxed, and had a wonderfully diverting evening, with no really awkward moments for either of them. Many of the Rakehells made her promise to call with Isolde or Bryony some time in the near future.
But soon she gave her man the nod, and they slipped away from the crowd. She was more than eager for Simon after the hours she had been forced to behave herself.
“Oh, I’ve created a monster. You’re insatiable,” he panted as she flattened him up against the back of the door to their bedchamber and began to divest him of his evening clothes with an astonishing rapidity, letting the expensive garments pool to the floor unheeded.
“So are you. I’m not the one who wanted to forgo the entire ball.”
“Oh yes you were.”
“And I’m not the one who drooled all over your knickers. An oversight I’m going to make up for right this minute,” she added with a grin when she saw him begin to look a bit shame-faced.
He stayed her head and hands for a moment. “But seriously, you would tell me if you weren’t in the mood, or it was a bad monthly or I did something really upsetting or shocking—”
She shook her head vehemently. “But you never would! Stop doubting yourself all the time. It’s all right. We’re happy and safe that’s all any of us can ever hope for.
"I love you, Simon, always. You’ve never given me a moment’s cause for worry. You’re getting better all the time, darling. You've had no fits for a while apart from that big one, and we’re truly happy. Never doubt that for a minute. Or if you do, just ask me. And I will tell you the same thing a hundred years from now, my darling Simon. I love you.”
He caressed her cheek, and never in all his life had he said words that he meant more. “I love you too.”
“I’m so glad. Now where were we, Simon? Ah, yes. Drooling all over your pulsating c—”
Her mouth full, she didn’t complete her sentence, but it was certainly a perfect end to a wonderful evening for both of them.
Chapter Thirty-six
Spring turned to summer at Barkston House, and Gabrielle and Simon had never been happier.
Simon’s nightmares had ceased completely, and he was taking on more and more work for both Randall and Michael, who could not fail to be impressed with their cousin’s fiance.
Even some of the Rakehell neighbours began to ask for his business expertise, first Lawrence Howard, the tea trader, and a couple of days later, Lawrence's brother-in-law Matthew Dane, who was also Randall’s closest friend and had heard all about Simon directly from him.
“I’ve got my other new brother-in-law coming to Somerset soon to set up in business too,” Lawrence said. “I'm sure he would also be able to use those prodigious accounting skills of yours once they settle in the district."
Simon inclined his head deferentially. "You're too kind."
"Not at all. In fact, if you’d like to consider investing in the tea trade, I would be more than happy, and can guarantee a nice tidy profit."
"Indeed, I've heard so much about the success of your tea rooms in Bath, I would be a fool not to jump at your offer."
Lawrence's dark brows knit, but he smiled. "Now who is being kind."
"It's true."
"I need to give credit where it's due, however. I was all set to take London by storm. My wife was the one who suggested the tea rooms in Bath," Lawrence said with obvious love and respect for his wife.
"She's a credit to you, and her gender, just like my own dear partner of the heart."
"And you know," Lawrence said pensively, "there is also Juliet’s old wine trading business to run, if you were interested. She had her sister Miranda and a couple of people minding it for her, but Miranda has so many other interests now that she is wed… Hmm.
It would be a shame to let it fall by the wayside."
Simon nodded, hoping he didn't appear too eager.
Talk about the perfect post…
"Indeed."
"We could really use someone with a good head and nose, if you've a liking for wine and the occasional spot of travel to France.”
Simon's head swam, this time with joy. "I can't think of anything I would like better, except an even more lucrative way or two to support my wife and her sister. Thank you."
Simon was astonished at how kind all of the Rakehells were in trying to help him stand on his own two feet.
Lawrence was surprised to hear that Simon deemed himself responsible for Lucinda, but this piece of information made him admire him all the more.
"So it’s settled then?" Lawrence asked, offering his hand.
“I think so. Both the tea trade and the wine enterprise sound splendid. I’ll discuss them with Gabrielle, of course, but I'm sure she will be thrilled.
So long as you know that Randall has first claim upon my services after all he’s done to help us, I think we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement that will take the burden off you and your wife.”
“Of course. I quite understand. Very commendable indeed. Not everyone would show such loyalty.” Lawrence’s silvery eyes were full of admiration.
“Well, he’s also family.”
The tea trader nodded. “Yes, of course. All of we Rakehells do try to be. We are delighed to know you. In case I’ve not said it properly before, welcome to the district. Speaking as a relative newcomer here myself, I just hope you’re as happy here as we’ve been.”