Dare to Kiss (7 page)

He hunched with uncertainty, but a tingle came from desire. He wanted to give them a joyous Christmas, but he wanted it for himself as well.

A mistletoe bough.

They hung one in the kitchen, he knew, but since his father's death, there'd not been one in the hall. It would suggest playful kisses, and what woman would want to kiss him, even a maid?

To be kissing maids would be improper in any case.

To be kissing a guest...?

No. She'd never want to do that.

Could people marry without kisses?

He shook his head.

No marriage for him.

And yet, John's words tantalized. Mistress Gifford was desperate, so it wouldn't be surprising if she'd thought of the advantages of marrying him. In such a marriage, they could arrange terms to suit. Surely kisses weren't essential, not even in the marriage bed.

He could have her company and her children to brighten his home. She'd probably be a good manager. He could have the marriage bed.

He'd visited brothels a few times in Birmingham, but though it was a whore's job to pretend that all their customers were Adonises, he'd known how they truly viewed him.

There'd be no need of pretense in his marriage bed, and he thought he was as well able as any man to satisfy a wife in the ways that mattered.

In fact, marrying Mistress Gifford could be seen as a benevolent act, and he had truly come to care about her children. He didn't want to see them reduced to poverty, or even worse, in a workhouse.

It bore thinking about.

Slowly, carefully, but worth thinking about.

Chapter Five

The days settled into a routine, and Lily let it be so. Her mind was too tangled to make plans or act on them.

She could never allow her children to sink into poverty.

She shouldn't trap Sir Benjamin in her scandal.

Wouldn't it be cruel to abandon him to his lonely life?

She shouldn't put her family's welfare above his.

In the mornings, she and her family ate breakfast in the schoolroom, with Charlotte and Michael fetching and carrying. After that, she taught them all according to their age, though Michael was already beyond her.

After a few days, he began to go down to Sir Benjamin for lessons. Lily suspected he'd asked and wasn't sure that was right, but Sir Benjamin could tutor him in Latin, Greek, and mathematics, which she could not.

In the afternoons, if the weather was at all clement, they all went out for long walks. They had balls and hoops found somewhere, which helped amuse. One day Sir Benjamin had come out with his two dogs, and that became part of the routine.

The dogs were amiable and delighted to chase after balls and sticks and so added to the play. Sir Benjamin often pointed out aspects of nature to the children -- the shape of a tree, the texture of bark, and the secret signs of shy animals. They were town-bred children, and much of it was wondrous to them.

One day he directed their attention to a tree. "Mistletoe. We should remember that for Christmas."

Lily saw Michael and Charlotte share a glance. Tommy asked the question. "Will we still be here at Christmas, sir?"

None of the children had addressed the question to her, but they must worry about it all the time.

"Yes," Sir Benjamin said. "Winter's no time to be wandering. Shall I show you the Yule log?"

They all agreed, delighted, and Lily followed swallowing tears.

He took them into some woodland to show them the large log. "Cut earlier to let it dry a bit. We'll bring it in on Christmas Eve to burn in the hall hearth."

"Will there be chestnuts, sir?" Charlotte asked.

"Of course."

"And sugar plums?" That was Susie, who loved sweet things.

"Definitely. And mince pies and wassail. Well, perhaps not for you children. But the mummers will come."

"And we'll hang mistletoe," Charlotte said, eyes bright. "Papa always kissed mama beneath the mistletoe."

"We'd best head back to the house," Lily said quickly, "and the dogs are looking bored. Tommy, throw the ball for them. Susie, see how far you can roll the hoop."

The dogs liked to chase that, too.

They liked to chase anything.

"Such simple creatures, dogs," she said as they headed back.

"Thus excellent companions," Sir Benjamin said, strolling beside her. "Don't worry that I might try to demand a kiss beneath the mistletoe."

She looked at him. "Why should I worry?"

He stared ahead. "My mouth, ma'am."

Oh, the poor man. Impulsively, Lily put a hand to his cheek, stretched up, and kissed him. He'd closed his lips as if in resistance, but that made it work reasonably well.

"There, see?" she said, looking into his eyes. "No worry at all."

He put his hand to her cheek and slowly, awkwardly, lowered his head to touch his lips to hers. Then he exhaled. "Thank you, ma'am."

All doubts fled. He needed this as much as she did. "Don't you think that after two kisses we should progress to first names, sir?"

"I make you free of Ben."

"And I you of Lily." She linked arms with him, and they went after the children. "This is much more comfortable, isn't it?"

"This is delightful," he said and halted. He turned to face her. "Mistress Gifford, Lily, will you marry me?"

Lily was frozen. She'd not expected this. Not yet. Not now.

She almost made a conventional demur, but knew from the look in his eyes that he was braced for rejection.

She smiled. "Yes, Ben, I will. And thank you."

His awkward smile was so broad no one could have misinterpreted it. "You honor me beyond reason, ma'am. Lily! Such a lovely name."

"Ben's a fine name, too. And if there's unreason, it's all on your side. I must remind you that I bring nothing to the marriage."

"I have no need of a dowry, and you bring riches. Yourself and your children. I love them already."

"Then I'm glad. But I must also remind you that there will be talk. Some will count you foolish."

"Let them. I'm not dependent on my neighbors' good opinion. In any case, they already like you and will soon admire you as much as I do."

"I hope you're right, " Lily said, and made it a prayer. All the reasons why not were clamoring, but it felt so right. "Shall we tell the children?"

"Of course, and the servants. Which will mean it will be around the neighborhood in a trice. When shall we marry?"

A part of Lily wanted to delay, to give him time to rethink, and for the effect in the locality to become clear. Another part wanted it done as soon as possible, so that no matter what happened, it could not be undone.

"Make it soon, my dear," he said softly, and she let that be her guide.

"Then as soon as the banns are read."

"Three weeks. That takes us to Christmas Day."

"What better day to wed?"

***

The children were ecstatic. Even Charlotte became completely carefree for the first time since the disaster. Lily had been concerned about the servants, but apart from the footman, they all seemed to accept the situation graciously.

The cook even went so far as to say, "It'll be a blessing to me, ma'am. I've enough to do in the kitchens without having to worry about the whole house, the accounts and such. And," she added, "I can see the difference in Sir Benjamin since you and your children came here. He's a new man."

"I do hope so, Mistress Kingsley. I will do my utmost to make him happy. I hope you can persuade John of that."

"The proof of that pudding will be in the eating, ma'am. And speaking of pudding, will there be any kind of wedding feast on Christmas Day?"

"Heavens, I've no idea. I'll ask Sir Benjamin."

Together they decided that the feast would be only for the family, and would consist of traditional Christmas fare.

Lily edged carefully into taking control of the house, but she was determined on some changes immediately. She had a fire built and maintained in the hall and hired two extra servants from the village. One was a maid for the schoolroom to tend the fire there and fetch and carry. The other was an extra maid to help Leah and Becky with keeping up the house as it should be.

She'd asked Ben's advice before hiring, but he'd told her to ask Mistress Kingsley. "Be careful of local politics, my dear. They can be as ferocious as anything at Westminster."

The result was that one of Mistress Kingsley's nieces came to work in the schoolroom, and Ruth, a younger sister of Leah and Becky, became a house maid. Lily had worried that other families might resent this, but when she ventured into the village to take some mending to the local seamstress, she had the impression that everyone thought her hiring just as it should be.

Local politics. Something she'd never had to worry about before.

She dined every day with Ben, and now they talked easily of everything under the sun. Despite his quiet life, he was very well informed from newspapers, magazines, and letters from correspondents, some in foreign lands.

When she'd realized how informed he was, she'd worried that he might have read something about her scandal, but clearly he ignored social gossip. His interest was in political affairs, and even more in botany and ingenious new machines.

One day he showed her a new acquisition -- a box that opened to produce a plant that appeared to grow and bloom.

"How is that done?" she asked.

"Clockwork, but entertaining, don't you think? I asked a correspondent for advice. I thought to give it to the children for Christmas."

"They'll fight over it," she had to say. "Better to keep it here in your library and allow them to enjoy it now and then as a treat."

"If you think that best. You must tell me what they would like."

She made up a list of modest items, for she feared he'd be too generous if left to his own devices. She'd not have her children spoiled, even if they were to grow up here in comfort and privilege. She frequently paused in her busy days to give thanks and pray that nothing would happen to spoil everything.

Every evening they sat together in his library, he reading and she either reading or sewing. She found it delightful, but it worried her that he never tried to repeat his kiss. He probably thought that the decent thing to do, but what if he still thought her repulsed?

So one evening, when she rose to leave and he rose, too, she went to him, touched his cheek again, and kissed him again. His arms came around her, holding her tight. She embraced him the same way. "Oh, this is so lovely."

"It is?" he asked.

"To be held like this. So strongly. To know that you are strong, that you will take care of me."

He looked into her eyes. "I will, Lily. Trust me."

"I do, more than you can know."

I wish I were worthy of your trust.

He stroked her cheek. "Why do you look sad, my dear?"

"Perhaps I don't trust fate."

"I will protect you even against fate."

She kissed him again. As his lips were still parted she kissed the lower one, playing on it a little. She felt him inhale and pushed him gently back into his chair. She sat on his lap.

"We're soon to be wed, Ben. Should we not become better acquainted?"

She kissed his ear, licked it, nibbled at his lobe. He began to suck in breaths. She pulled up her skirts, took his hand and put it on her thigh. He tightened it there.

"Touch me, Ben, touch me. I long for your touch..."

He did, stroking and squeezing her thigh as she scattered kisses around his face and neck. She'd always been quick to heat, to her disaster, but this was her husband to be. She spread her legs, opening herself completely to him. When he hesitated, she guided his hand and pressed it there, arching at that touch.

He pressed and circled and then, blessed relief, plunged his fingers into her, driving into her, meeting her urgent thrusts. She buried her face in his neck, mewling her desperate, agonizing need. He was kissing her now, neck, hair, gasping as wildly as she, bucking beneath her.

Her relief came in violent, arching spasm, blanking her mind in flaming darkness until she returned, limp and sweaty in his arms. He was still gasping for breath. A touch told her he was still hard. Huge and hard.

She undid his breeches, ignoring feeble protests, and released him. She positioned herself and slowly slid down onto him, filling her tender flesh with hot, hard heat.

"Oh, God, oh God, oh God..." She couldn't seem to stop saying it, and it was a devout prayer. It had been so long.

He groaned as if trying to control himself. She rose up and destroyed his restraint, watching him as he shattered. She loved this almost as much as her own ecstasy. Loved it more, because she loved him, and loved this, as passion swept over her again.

Still breathing deeply, she leaned to kiss his brow. "My dear, sweet Ben."

His eyes fluttered open. "My dear, sweet Lily... Though sweet is not quite the word."

She grinned. "Can a Lily be hot?"

"Clearly it can," he said, stroking her, grinning back, unconscious of his mouth in this moment. "There's the scarlet turkscap, which is quite fiery, and I've heard of a tiger lily in the east. I must try to obtain some bulbs to treasure in our garden."

"Our garden. I like that."

"Our paradise. Are you too good to be true?"

She flinched, but hid it in a playful kiss. "Probably. Aren't we all?"

"Perhaps. We're certainly not good. We should have waited."

"Yes, but we didn't. You know the truth now, my darling -- I'm a lusty woman. I will be demanding."

He closed his eyes again. "I am a very lucky man."

When Lily left him to go upstairs, she paused in the corridor outside her room to go over what had happened. She hadn't planned that. She'd planned a kiss, yes, in order to reassure herself that all was well, but not the rest.

She leaned against the wall.

She'd not expected that. She'd not expected her desire to flare so violently, though she should have. She'd controlled herself so fiercely it had built beyond reason.

She'd not expected him to satisfy her so completely.

He was young. She'd not yet asked his age, but he was younger than she. Tom had been ten years older and so had Frobisher. She'd heard tales of young stallions but not thought them literal. She shivered, but with delight. To have that every night.