To Protect and to Cherish (10 page)

             
“You are married now. She will wait for you to call her.”

             
Jillian’s face flamed at the implication.

             
“I considered knocking at the door between our rooms,” he explained his actions, “but it seemed a little too intimate for where we are right now.”

             
“I am sorry, Slade,” she couldn’t look at him. “I should have realized – about Erin, I mean.”

             
He put a hand on her shoulder, “Maybe we should come to the point of my knocking at your door,” he suggested. “I was wondering if you wanted to take breakfast with me, or if you preferred to have it brought to you.”

             
Jillian knew she should take every opportunity to get to know her husband, but her recent mortification along with her sore body, made her hesitate in answering him.

             
He didn’t wait long, “Maybe tomorrow?”

             
She nodded, looking down at the floor.

             
Slade did not return to eat midday. Jillian had some letters to write, so she was not bored. She was, however, concerned that she had offended her husband.

             
Mrs. Bailey found her in the music room, inspecting the pianoforte.

             
“Do you play, madam?”

             
Jillian looked up, “I did when I was young, but I have not played in years, and I was not very faithful to practice even then.”

             
Mrs. Bailey smiled, “It is difficult to learn that way.”

             
Jillian sighed from her position, “My mother played beautifully, but she never pressured me to follow her love of it. I think she hoped I would eventually decide on my own to pursue it.”

             
“But you did not?”

             
Jillian realized the woman had likely not come in to discuss her musical abilities, “Is there something you need from me, Mrs. Bailey?”

             
The housekeeper nodded, “I was wondering when you would like to prepare the menu for next week.”

             
Jillian knew what was expected of her as the mistress, but she had not known how to go about opening the discussion.

             
“I am free now, Mrs. Bailey,” she rose gingerly, “but I think we should leave the remainder of the conference for the morning.”

             
Bailey nodded, “If you wish to defer the menu discussion until tomorrow, we will not suffer for it.”

             
Jillian smiled, “I am certain I can trust your hand in all matters, but I do not wish to neglect my duties. I would prefer to meet after breakfast as his grace is an early riser and will wish to eat before leaving for the day.”

             
“As you wish.”

             
“And you would meet me in the dining room?” she mentioned the location Mrs. Kern was wont to meet with her.

             
“If you wish, though the master has seen fit to provide me with an office.”

             
“I will ask Erin to show me where it is in the morning.”

Bailey nodded respectfully and began to leave the room.

              “Mrs. Bailey,” Jillian stopped her, “I would appreciate being informed as soon as the duke returns to the house.”

             
Mrs. Bailey appeared to be smiling though her lips remained in a straight line, “Would you care to know when he nears the house?”

             
“Please,” she was glad the woman had asked, “as soon as someone is aware of his arrival. Thank you.”

             
The housekeeper left and Jillian went back to her room to locate the collar she was making for Amy.

             
She had embroidered a full row of roses by the time Erin knocked at her sitting room door, “The master has returned, Miss,” she did not correct herself this time in how she addressed her mistress.

             
Jillian rose, “Is my hair in place Erin?”

             
Erin smiled broadly, “If you’ll sit down, Miss, I’ll gladly arrange it again.”

             
Jillian went into her room and set her handiwork aside, “Is my dress acceptable, Erin?”

             
“Begging your pardon, Miss, but I dinna think your husband is going to be looking you over for faults.”

             
Jillian sank into the chair at her dressing table, using her arms to slow the descent to her aching backside, “I am being as silly as a young girl at her first ball.”

             
“I think it is nice,” Erin offered her opinion.

             
Jillian never chided her for her familiarity. The girl never did it in the presence of others, and it was never unkind. The mistress found herself as grateful for the assistance now as she had been when she was escaping her uncle.

             
Erin worked quickly, and Jillian rose to go find her husband.

             
Mrs. Bailey was in the corridor at the bottom of the stairs when Jillian descended.

             
“Is he in his study?”

             
Bailey nodded, “And I believe Mr. Tellem just left.

             
“Thank you.”

             
Her aching joints forced her to walk at a dignified pace, though she would have liked to hurry a bit. It was surprising to her how much she wanted to see Slade. They had only been apart for hours.

             
She knocked on the door.

             
“Come in,” his tone had an edge to it that made her wonder if she was disturbing him.

             
She opened the door and stepped inside, “Shall I return later?”

             
He looked up from the drawing and a smile lit his features, “Jillian,” he rose, “this is a surprise.”

             
She took another step into the room, “I am sorry it is.”

             
His eyes registered confusion, “You are?”

             
She came and joined him at his drafting table, “I believe my behavior this morning gave you the wrong impression that I do not desire your company.”

             
Slade opened his mouth to respond, looked at the door and shut his lips, “Please sit, Jillian,” he walked across the room and closed the door.

             
He took the chair across from her, “I understand I made you uncomfortable when I came into your room this morning. It was natural that you needed some time to compose yourself.”

             
She noticed, for the first time, that he was not dressed as usual. He had removed his coat and was only wearing his shirtsleeves and a waistcoat. She wondered if he was uncomfortable with her seeing him thus.

             
“It was not simply that,” she admitted.

             
He looked interested, but he did not push.

             
“I am afraid our excursion yesterday has caused some discomfort today. I have been moving slowly today.”

             
He realized instantly what she was talking about, “I am sorry, Jillian,” he took her hand in both of his own, “I did not even think of the possibility. Have you spoken to Mrs. Bailey about it?”

             
“Mrs. Bailey?” Jillian was mortified at the very idea.

             
“She may have a solution. A bath, perhaps.”

             
Jillian colored, “Sir, I would prefer not to discuss this at length with you.”

             
She saw her husband wince at her cold tone and her choice of words.

             
Jillian closed her eyes momentarily. By the time she opened them, he had risen and moved to a position across the room.

             
She stood, ignoring the pain in her thighs, and followed him, “I am sorry. I realize you were simply expressing your concern.”

             
“Do you think me an oaf?” he was looking over the top of her head.

             
“What?” she did not expect that, “No. I could never think that of you.”

             
He turned away from her, “I seem to say and do things that appall you. I never mean to be crass, but it seems everything that comes out of my mouth offends you.”

             
“Slade,” she reached up and touched his arm, surprised to feel the solidness beneath the fabric of his sleeve, “it isn’t you. I am not accustomed to speaking to people about. . .about my person.”

             
Slade looked over his shoulder at her, “I have not been in the habit of speaking to anyone about your person either.”

             
Jillian laughed softly, “I imagine not.”

             
He turned and drew nearer to her, sliding a hand around her waist, “I would like you to feel comfortable talking with me.”

             
“I am sure I will, eventually,” she assured him.

             
“I am going to say something about your person now,” he gave her notice.

             
She smiled at the warning.

             
“I think you would find you ached less if you went out riding again.”

             
Jillian barely suppressed a groan, “I am not sure I could mount the horse, much less tolerate a ride.”

             
He slid his free hand up to her face and traced her jawline with his thumb, “I have had little experience with soreness of this kind, but I have heard it is better to repeat the action when you are sore.”

             
Jillian still doubted the wisdom of the activity, but she nodded. What else could she do? His hands on her were mesmerizing her, and she was sure she could do nothing but agree with him.

             
“Good,” he leaned toward her, “I’ll have Pete saddle the horses.”

             
Jillian’s hands slid up Slade’s arms, tingling at the warmth beneath them.

             
He lowered his head, “I’m going to kiss you, Jillian.”

             
His lips had just touched hers when a knock sounded on the door. Jillian jumped back and dropped her hands, but Slade retained his grip on his wife’s waist even as he looked over his shoulder.

             
“What?” he sounded angry.

             
There was silence on the other side of the door.

             
Jillian looked up at her husband’s face. Though he was still glaring at the closed door, she could see he wore a mask of irritation. She bit her lip to keep from smiling.

             
Slade looked back at her.

             
She felt the corners of her lips drawing up.

             
“You are not laughing at this Lady Ashley,” he declared it to be impossible, but he knew the truth.

             
A soft giggle escaped her lips. She put her hand to her mouth to stop it, but another slipped out.

             
His grin was more wry than amused, “You find my advances entertaining?”

             
“Oh, no,” she brought her hands to the front of his waistcoat without thinking, “never,” she swallowed, realizing the position she was now in. All humor fled as she ran her palms up his solid chest.

             
Slade didn’t inform her of his intent this time. He just leaned down and kissed her. He didn’t hold her face either, but completely enfolded her in his arms.

             
Jillian slid her hands back down his torso and wrapped them around his waist, pulling him still closer to herself.

             
Slade’s lips trailed from hers to her cheek and then her ear, “Jillian,” he whispered against her hair, “I think I should go find Peter.”

             
Jillian was trying desperately to catch her breath. She buried her face in his chest, “Why, Slade? Why do you need to find Peter?”

             
A low growl rumbled from his chest.

             
She pushed back and looked up at him.

             
“Jillian,” he kissed her gently before pushing her away from him, “I’m just a man; I don’t have that kind of control.”