To Protect and to Cherish (8 page)

Suddenly afraid he was going to take that pleasure away from her, she hurried on, “But I am certain I can learn, Slade.”

He nodded, “You probably should learn for propriety’s sake.”

She felt a rush of embarrassment and disappointment that he would think her crass for riding astride.

“However,” he went on, “I see nothing wrong with you riding astride when you are in the immediate vicinity.”

She met his eyes, “You aren’t scandalized by the idea?”

He shook his head and wiped his mouth on his napkin, “I think side saddle is dangerous, but it does preserve one’s modesty in a manner that riding astride cannot.”

She angled her head and looked at him under furrowed brow, “What would you suggest?”

“Ride with me, of course,” he leaned back slightly in his chair. “You need not be concerned about your modesty when you are with your husband, and you will be safe astride.”

She didn’t agree that she needn’t be concerned over her modesty, but she said nothing. She set aside her own napkin and rose.

He was at her side, extending a hand to her, “Would you like to step out on the veranda with me?”

While under her uncle’s control, Jillian had been fairly sheltered from society’s rules. Even she knew it was improper for a woman and man to be outside together – particularly past nightfall.

She hesitated.

“You would prefer not to?”

She felt her breath hitch as his whisper floated to her ear.

“I am not certain,” she hedged.

He stepped back, “Do you still feel I may take advantage of you?”

She frowned, “No.”

He didn’t appear to believe her.

“I am sorry, sir,” she was beginning to feel very foolish, “I do not know if it is proper.”

He smiled and looked down at her, “Jillian,” his voice was still soft enough that no nearby servants would overhear, “you are my wife. I may be alone with you at any time I please and nobody would think it the least bit scandalous.”

She closed her eyes. Of course that was true.

“I beg your pardon,” she nodded toward the door.

He led her outside to the cool evening air. It was relief to feel the breeze carrying away some of the heat from her flushed cheeks.

“I imagine it feels quite strange to you,” he began as they stood overlooking the back gardens, “spending time alone with a man you hardly know.”

She couldn’t deny it, but he was in a similar situation, and he didn’t seem nearly as ill at ease as she was.

“Why are you so comfortable?”

“I am in my own home,” he
slid his hand down to hers and grasped her fingers. “I also had more choices in the situation than you had. It makes it easier for me to accept.”

She was trying to acclimate
herself to the feeling of her hand in his.

“Do you mind if I hold your hand?”

She shook her head but didn’t say anything.

“Are you ready for bed?”

Before she could even tense at the question, he clarified.

“Your own bed?” there was a smile in his voice.

“I am,” she admitted, “though I have had an enjoyable evening with you.”

He led her back into the house, “You sound surprised,” his chuckle helped her understand he wasn’t upset.

“I am a little,” she teased, following him up the staircase toward the master suite. “I was afraid we would have nothing to talk about.”

“You thought we would be forced to discuss trenching or sheep husbandry.”

She laughed, “I do not know anything about the former, and the latter is certainly not an appropriate topic.”

He opened the door to the sitting room where they would part ways for their own beds,
letting go of her hand as they crossed the threshold, “There is more to the sheep than just the . . . um, perhaps you are right that it is not appropriate.”

Jillian watched him grin again, thinking again how very handsome he was.
His eyes creased at the corners and he showed a line of straight teeth whenever he smiled.

“I think it is so unusual for someone to have brown hair and blond eyes,” she spoke without thinking. “I mean that you have brown eyes,” her words came out quickly.

He raised his eyebrows, “You think brown eyes are unusual?”

She bit her lip and shook her head, “Just when combined with blond hair. Amy has brown hair and brown eyes.”

Her unnecessary reminder of his sister’s hair and eye color made his smile grow.

“I seem to be tongue tied,” she sighed.

“You are tired,” he stepped backward to his own door.

“You are a good man, Slade,” Jillian had to say it, even though it was going to embarrass her and, possibly, him.

His brows drew together.

“You could have passed by me on the road or let me find my own way back to
Southam, but you didn’t.”

His eyes registered a small measure of surprise.

She smiled, “They were very kind to me,” she explained how she knew he sent the carriers, “but also very curious.”

He laughed.

“You also did not have to marry me.”

His expression turned grim, “I should have held my tongue. I knew something was not right about the situation. I could have asked around before opening you up to that kind of abuse.”

Jillian stepped forward and took his hand, “How were you to know? He would have found me eventually, and then who would have rescued me?” she paused, “I am only sorry you had to make such a sacrifice.”

He looked down at her hand holding his.

“Jillian, it is no sacrifice for me to take you as my wife. You are a godly woman who is also kind, and quite beautiful.”

He had told her as much before, but this setting was so intimate. It was hard to focus, and she wondered if she should excuse herself for bed, even though what she really wanted was to remain with Slade.

“May I kiss you, Jillian?” he tugged her closer to himself.

She slid her hand from his and ran it up his arm and rested it on his shoulder.

He lifted a hand to her cheek and leaned toward her, pressing his lips gently to hers.

Jillian had thought his hand felt nice with hers, but that did not produce the fire in her veins like this did.

She stretched up on her toes, followed him when he would have pulled away.

He responded to her by snaking an arm around her waist and pulling her body flush to his.

Jillian’s hand moved to his neck and then to his hair.

He pulled back quickly, breaking contact almost violently, “Jillian,” he rasped, “I fear I will not be able to keep my promise if I do not retire immediately.”

She watched him turn on his heel and disappear into his room, closing the door with a vengeance.

Jillian was, at first, confused. The moment of disorientation soon passed, though, and she smiled. He had been tempted by her.

He really did find her attractive.

CHAPTER 6

Jillian awoke early the next more, refreshed.

She dressed alone – not needing Erin’s assistance. She began brushing her hair out, wondering if she should call her maid or wait. It was a new place for Erin as well, and there were likely things the girl would need to acclimate herself to in the situation.

She
looked up and realized the door to the sitting room was still open. She must not have closed it last night. She moved to remedy the situation.

“Slade,” she was surprised to see him in a chair in their sitting room. He rose when he saw her, “I did not realize you were up.”

“I found I could not sleep once the sun made its appearance,” he admitted.

             
Her hand flew to her hair, tumbling unchecked over her shoulders and down her back.

             
“It looks very nice as it is,” he guessed the source of her discomfort.

             
She sat down in the seat nearest her, knowing he would not be seated while she stood, “I do not very often wear it down.”

             
“I imagine it gets in the way,” he suggested.

             
“It would, yes,” she felt like she needed to say something while he stood and stared at her, “When I was younger, I would braid it and leaving it hanging down my back.”

             
Slade finally sat down, but it was not in the chair across the room. Instead, he walked over to where she sat, and joined her on the small sofa. She tried not to scoot away from him, but he was so very close to her.

             
Her discomfort increased when he reached out a hand and touched a lock of hair that was settled on her shoulder.

             
“Am I making you nervous?” he whispered.

             
She began to shake her head, but then switched the movement to an affirmative nod.

             
He was so close she could actually feel the chuckle that rumbled in his chest.

             
“Would you like me to move away from you?”

             
She didn’t respond right away. Then she shook her head.

             
Slade reached a hand toward Jillian’s lap, and, for a moment, she thought he was going to take her hand. He did not. He took the hairbrush she did not realize she still held.

             
He shifted slightly and then placed his hands on her upper arms to turn her away from him.

             
She was almost certain her heart was going to beat out of her chest.

             
He began drawing the brush slowly through her long hair. If his actions hadn’t made her so tense, Jillian might have found the experience enjoyable.

             
Clearly, he could read her anxiety in her posture, “I am hoping you will become accustomed to my presence, Jillian. Maybe this isn’t the way to go about it,” he did not stop brushing though, as if he was waiting for her instruction.

             
She sat still, attempting to regulate her breathing.

             
She wasn’t fooling Slade. He could see her stiff shoulders. A change of topic was in order.

             
He pulled her soft hair behind her and set the brush on the table, still unwilling to relinquish his hold on the silken masses, “Would you like to go riding this morning?”

             
She spun around to look at him, “Truly? You have time to go riding with me?”

             
His heart rate increased at the sight of her eager expression. He knew he would sacrifice every morning to her if she would be always this eager to be with him.

             
“I can go as soon as you are ready.”

             
She began to rise but then sat down heavily, “I do not have anything to wear.”

             
He was so glad for his sister at that moment, “Wait here,” he stood up and went into his room, bringing out a large box.

             
“Amy told me you would need this.”

             
Jillian smiled up at him before lifting the lid. She ran her hand over the royal blue fabric, “It is lovely.”

             
He sat and pulled the box onto his lap so she could pull the garments out and get a better look.

             
He would not have thought of the dress on his own, but he had chosen the fabric to match his wife’s eyes. Thankfully, the dressmaker had been well able to determine sizing from the wedding gown.

             
She turned to go into the bedroom, but then spun back to him, “I imagine we should eat before we leave.”

             
He saw the flicker of disappointment, but he had to agree with her, “I suppose we should,” he took the habit from her and draped it across the sofa. “We will go see if Cook has our meal ready, and I will see about having our horses saddled while we eat.”

             
“I will need to have Erin arrange my hair,” she reached up and touched her glorious mane.

             
“Perhaps you could simply braid it.”

             
Her scandalized countenance made him smile as he extended an arm to her.

             
She was about to take it, but then she drew her brows together in thought.

             
“Something wrong, Jillian?”

             
She glanced back at the garment.

             
He thought he knew what she was thinking. He walked back to the sofa and lifted a panel of fabric at the front of the skirt, revealing a split skirt beneath.