Authors: Sue London
"Yes,
Giddy,” she said, breathless from her giggling, “I see very well."
His
brows knit together in irritation. "You know I hate that nickname."
She
hooked one arm over his neck and stroked his cheek with her other hand. "I
can't help it, sometimes you make me feel giddy."
He
looked at her dubiously and she sighed, raising her lips to his own. "I
love you, Giddy."
At
Jack’s words her husband became almost rigidly still. She teased his lips but
it was a moment before he started to respond and when he did it was tentative
at best. She knew that he would need time to become accustomed to this thought
so she applied herself to distracting him with her body. At long last he sank
into the kiss, palming one of the breasts he had been ogling, proving that the
dress was indeed cut low by slipping two fingers under the fabric to tease her
nipple. She moaned deep in her throat and spread her thighs under her husband's
weight, hoping that he would accept her wordless invitation. He thrust once
against her clothed body, enough for her to feel the bulge of his erection
against her dampening center, then he pulled the bodice of her dress off her
right breast and set himself to laving and nibbling at the globe. His other
hand was making its way under her skirts when there was a brief knock at the
door and it opened, only to be closed after a brief gasp.
Jack
laughed. "We really need to learn to lock the door."
Gideon
pushed himself up on his elbows to look down at her with a wry grin. "I
doubt we need to worry about Mr. Gladstone entering unannounced anymore."
"He
couldn't really see anything from the door."
"You're
saying we need to be even more concerned about Mr. Gladstone since he hasn't
see anything yet?"
She
laughed. "Of course not!"
"I
worry about you, Lady Harrington."
"As
well you should."
He
gave her breast one last kiss before pulling her bodice to rights. "I
suppose we should save this for tonight in our bedroom instead of mid-morning
in the study."
She
twirled his hair in her fingers. "I suppose."
They
lay there for a moment, forest green eyes to sapphire blue ones, contemplating
this new plateau in their relationship. Then Gideon stood and offered his wife
a hand up. Once standing she smoothed her dress and he moved back to his desk.
Stopping at the corner, he picked up the letters she had brought. He looked
over his shoulder at her with his brow raised again. "Robert
Bittlesworth?"
"Sabre
asked me to send her mail to her brother's address, as you might recall."
"But
it's not to Sabrina Bittlesworth by way of Robert Bittlesworth."
Jack
sauntered over to his desk, slit open the letter, and handed it to him.
"That's
not necessary," he said.
She
shrugged. "Read it."
He
tried to hand it to her and she pushed it back at him. "Read it," she
insisted. He unfolded the sheet and Sabre's letter, which was the bulk of the
packet, fell into his palm. He read the brief missive to Robert, giving a
lopsided smile at her signature line.
"Satisfied?"
she asked sweetly.
He
tapped the bundle in his hand. "If you discovered that I'd written a
letter to a lady, say perhaps Lady Spencer from the Wynder’s Ball, wouldn't you
be curious to know what was in it?"
Jack
felt herself flush. "I think I'd have a good deal more reason to
wonder."
"Do
you really? You know almost the entirety of my acquaintance with Lady Spencer.
I know almost nothing of yours with Robert Bittlesworth."
She
crossed her arms and tapped her foot. "Very well, I'll grant you that. But
I'm not known to be a-a gadabout, spending all my time charming men."
He
set the letters aside and, putting his hands on her hips, drew her closer.
"I have a good deal of reason to wonder about that. Almost every man at my
club wanted to tell me how charming you are."
She
braced her hands on his chest, keeping him from pulling her completely to him.
"Don't be ridiculous."
"That's
very similar to what you said the last time I brought it up. Your lack of
acceptance doesn't make the circumstance any less true." He leaned forward
and kissed the inside of her elbow.
"You're
being difficult," she said.
"Difficult?
How could I possibly be difficult for my wife who charms dukes and butlers with
equal aplomb?"
"No
I don't," she said with a laugh, allowing herself to be pulled closer.
"Oh
yes you do," he whispered. "I can't upset you for fear of either a
ducal summons or too much starch in my collars."
"Don't
be silly," she whispered back, now almost nose to nose with him.
He
leaned forward to whisper into her ear. "Only for you, Jack. I'm only
silly for you."
She
giggled at that but then he was kissing her again. An aggressive mating of
tongues that made her body reawaken to the possibilities of the morning. There
was another knock at the door, this one sharper and more authoritative than
Phillip's had been. Gideon set her aside with a curse followed by a muttered
apology, then seated himself behind the desk before calling, "Come."
Jack
smothered a smile at how frustrated he sounded and took a seat in a chair near
the desk.
Dibbs
entered to announce, "Mr. Miller, my lord."
Gideon
nodded and the young man came into the room.
Jack
rose. "Perhaps I should leave you to your work."
Gideon
nodded again, then picked up her letter for Robert. "Can I add a note to
this before sending it?"
"Of
course," she said.
So,
thought Gideon, this was what it meant to be married. Constantly frustrated
either by his wife or by not being able to be with his wife. Perhaps it was
petty and jealous to be concerned about what she might be writing to Robert
Bittlesworth. But Robert certainly wasn't a bad looking man and had more self
assurance than he should at twenty-four, a trait that tended to draw young
women like flies whenever they would carouse together. And that might be part
of it. He knew Robert and Charlie as friends to carouse with and Jacqueline
knew them as friends of the family. Certainly neither of the Bittlesworths
would do something untoward with their little sister's friend. Especially now
that she was the Countess of Harrington. And he knew that she had been
untouched coming to their marriage bed and... He was driving himself mad and he
knew it. Shaking off his circling thoughts he turned his attention to his new
clerk.
Fortunately
Gideon knew his Parliamentary papers well enough to take Mr. Miller on a cursory
tour of them without having to think about it. Listings of the various bills in
progress, tallies of the voting records and reports on anticipated voting. He
explained that among the duties he expected of Miller was to act as his aide in
assessing potential votes. He also had two drafts of bills that he would like
to take up either at the end of this Session or the beginning of the Little Session,
and suggested that Miller familiarize himself with the issues. The boy took no
notes but appeared to be absorbing the information. Other things might prove
frustrating, but this at least seemed to be a good decision on many fronts. If
the boy proved himself competent then Gideon might even consider sending him
for his letters at Oxford, something that would undoubtedly make his wife look
at him as though he had conquered the Continent on his own.
And
thinking of how she might react reminded him, what did she mean saying she
loved him? That was, well, it was absurd. Especially after she herself had said
that hearts are always fallible. It was almost an insult to him or herself to
admit to foolish feelings after making such a statement. How was he supposed to
take her seriously when she contradicted herself like that? If she had been
hoping to engender soft feelings in him for herself it had been a horrible
tactic. What he felt was irritated and flummoxed. Hopefully she wouldn't do
that again. It just muddled things that hadn't been terribly clear to begin
with.
He
realized that Miller was looking at him expectantly and he hadn't said anything
in awhile. In fact, he couldn't really remember the last thing that he had
said. To recover he scooped up the pending bills and handed the heavy stack
over.
"There
is a desk in your room, as I recall?"
"Yes,
my lord."
"Review
these in detail. We shall meet here each morning at ten o'clock throughout the
week and if your progress seems adequate I will send you to London after
that."
"Preceding
you, my lord?"
"Yes,
Miller. You'll do fine. Now take yourself off, I have estate business to
discuss with Phillip before I take my wife to the Vicarage."
"Of
course, my lord."
Due,
perhaps, to the late start on their morning Gideon found himself working well
into the lunch hour as Phillip furiously scribbled to keep up with his
directives. A footman arrived with a note on a silver salver. "From the
Countess, my lord."
Furrowing
his brow Gideon picked up the small envelope and tore it open.
"Since
you are working through lunch again have decided to take my meal in my room.
Where I will be all alone. Naked."
Gideon
stood, crumpling the note in his hand. "Take lunch, Phillip."
"Yes,
my lord."
He
took the stairs two at a time. Entering her suite he locked the outer door and
was already stripping off his jacket as he walked into her bedroom. She was
tucked in the bed with the covers pulled up, hair down, arms and shoulders bare
as she spooned up some of chef's berry compote. Seeing him she lounged back
against the pillows and held up her hand.
"Ah!
No further. Your tray is over there by the door."
Gideon
looked to his left where she indicated and saw that another tray had been set
out.
"For
each bite you take you can come closer or have me lower the sheets a bit
more."
Infernal
witch. He narrowed his eyes at her. Two could play at this game. Since she
hadn't said anything about his own clothing he started by stripping himself. He
could tell by her widened eyes that she hadn't considered he might start there.
Once naked he picked up his plate and said, "Pull down the sheet until I
tell you otherwise." As he made his way through chef's goose pie which,
honestly, could have been sawdust for all he noticed the flavor, he watched his
wife inch the sheet down her body with each bite he took. She revealed that her
chest was already flushing, her nipples already puckered with want of his
attentions. Her soft belly quivered as she drew the sheet over it. He wondered
if she would be too shy to pull the sheets all the way down but she didn't
hesitate as he made short work of the pie and then picked up a dinner roll.
"Stop,"
he said, and used small bites of roll to come across the room, stalking her
like a wolf scenting a doe. He pushed aside her dinner tray and tossed the
remainder of the roll onto it. Crawling over her he braced his body above her
own so that they were barely touching and whispered into her ear. "Did you
think to torture me?"
Laughing
she reached for him but he pulled away. "Ah," he said. "If you
want to touch me there will have to be payment."
She
giggled. "I've already eaten my lunch."
"That
wasn't the payment I had in mind. I want to see you touch yourself."
Now
she looked flushed and embarrassed. "Gideon."
He
leaned closer, using his breath as a caress on her skin. "Do you want me
to touch you? To be inside you?"
She
squirmed and reached for him again, but he again drew away from her.
"You
remember, don't you? From the book?"
"Yes,
I remember. Though it might be easier if you showed me."
"No,
you little minx. Show me what you remember."
Keeping
her eyes on his she ran her hands up her sides to her breasts. Watching her
elegant hands play over the milky white skin and dusky pink aeuroles made
Gideon's stomach clench with raging lust. She plucked at her nipples and rolled
them between her fingers then ran one hand down the center of her body to the
curls at the apex of her thighs. God, he was torturing himself much more than
he tortured her. Her delicate fingers lightly explored her own folds, rubbing
the lips and skimming over her nub. She gasped in surprise, eyes widening, and
set to rubbing her index finger over that magic little button. He wanted to see
if she could bring herself to completion, but his body was burning with the
need to be inside her. She held out the hand that had still been teasing her
nipple and said, "Please, Gideon, be with me." Oh gods, he would swim
oceans to be with this woman. He came into her and she was so wet and hot and
tight that his world narrowed down to their joining, the surging pleasure of
body to body, sex to sex. He wasn't thinking about her pleasure or even his
own. He wasn't thinking at all. As he cried out and emptied his seed into her
he knew that it wasn't just sexual completion. He had given all of himself to
her. Everything he was and everything he would ever be. Even though they were
both gasping from the exertion he fused his mouth to hers. He needed to
distract himself. He couldn't think about it, couldn't face it, whatever this
was between them. He kissed her passionately, gently, erotically, in all the
ways he knew until they were both distracted into a haze of sensual pleasure
again.