Trust Me (3 page)

She wanted to feel something
spectacular. He could do it. He made her feel like she had never felt in her
life, as though she were another person entirely.

She put her hand
inside his coat and stroked it over his waistcoat, feeling the strength of his
muscles beneath. He bent and put his head into the curve of her neck. Then he
nipped her ear.
Hard
.

She squealed and
jumped.

He licked her
earlobe, and the sudden wet warmth eased the sharp pain and she shuddered.

“Don’t tempt me, you
naughty wench.”

She laughed.

He looked down at her
with a challenging light in his eyes. “Take a morning ride with me.”

“I’d adore a morning
ride.” She put emphasis on the last word.

“On Hades.”

 
“Oh.” All her enthusiasm drained away.

He bent and flicked
his tongue against her earlobe again. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Since working to
overcome her fear of horses, she’d ridden on one — with Jon, of course. But she
had not ridden on a massive black stallion like Hades!

He caressed her back.
“You don’t really have to do this. It was just a suggestion. I thought you
might be ready.”

He had such belief in
her ability to overcome her fears. And she wouldn’t be able to overcome them
unless she pushed herself, would she?

She had to try.

If she failed, if she
froze or burst into tears or became suddenly ill and fainted… only Jon would
see. He hadn’t judged her for those things in the past.

But if she didn’t at
least try, she might lose his respect. Respect she’d worked so hard to earn.

She tiled her face to
his and forced a smile. “A quail.”

“Quail?”

She traced a
fingertip down the folds of his simple cravat. “Yes, you must promise to bag me
a quail, else I shan’t go riding with you.”

She fluttered her
lashes whilst looking up at him through them.

The pupils of his
eyes enlarged and he grinned. “My lady is demanding today.”

“Your lady is weary
of those pigeons the cook keeps serving us.” She shuddered at the memory of the
stringy roasted chicken that had graced last evening’s table.

Jon watched Anne’s
generous breasts shake with her affected trembling and then he chuckled deeply.
“Pigeons indeed.”

He bent and placed a
kiss on her forehead, then stepped away and walked to the stable entrance.
Riley was leaning against the outside of the stable, chewing on a stalk of
grass.

“Put a saddle on
Hades,” Jon said.

“Yes, my lord,” Riley
said and hurried to obey. Jon followed him back into the stable and went to the
corner and picked up a bundle he’d placed there earlier.

When he glanced back
at Riley, the groom was attempting to set the saddle on Hades’ back but his
eyes were focused intently upon Anne.

Her chest, to be
exact.

The fine-worsted wool
clung to her full, round breasts in a fuzzy-soft sort of invitation for a man’s
hands.

Not that Jon
particularly begrudged another man’s looking at Anne. She had magnificent
breasts. They were made to be appreciated—with some discretion, though, and
under the proper circumstances. And yet… All right, he must admit that it
pleased him to see the open admiration and lust for his wife’s breasts in other
men’s eyes, knowing that he alone possessed the right to touch them.

But a servant should
never be so disrespectful of his own lord’s wife as to ogle her openly.

He glanced at her
face. Irritation crackled through him.

She was a thousand
leagues away. Lost in her own thoughts.

He’d known so many
aristocratic women who discounted any man beneath the rank of baronet as being
somehow non-existent except in a servile fashion.

To be precise, he’d
known so many aristocratic women who had looked upon him thus, back when he had
been common Mr Jonathon Lloyd standing beside his cousin, Charles Lloyd,
Viscount Midhurst, the heir to the Earl of Ruel.

But that wasn’t what
was so disquieting about this current situation. It was that she hadn’t told
him about Riley’s improper interest.

All right. Jon had
known of this problem of Riley being unable to keep his eyes respectfully
focused whilst around the new Countess of Ruel. And yes, Jon had been testing
Anne, to see if she would bring the issue to his notice.

He was her husband,
damn it, she should come to him with any concern whatsoever. How was he to
maintain control over the male servants if she neglected to alert him to such
problems?

He walked to her and
touched her hand.

She startled and
gaped at him, so obviously trying to reconnect into the moment. Lines from
Grandmother’s letter played once more in his mind.

So, my mighty lord earl, you have chosen to gift Ruel with a
bride who sounds as though she is even more flighty and self-absorbed than your
mother. Let’s just hope your countess proves to be a shade more steadfast to
the house of Lloyd, at least long enough to present you with an heir.

A jangle hit the air
and drew his attention back to Mr Riley. The saddle slipped yet again. Jon
pressed his lips together, resisting the urge to vent himself in a cynical
laugh. “Riley.”

The groom looked up
with a slightly confused expression.

Jon let his lip curl
upwards. “The day grows old. Shall I call for one of the scullery maids to come
and give you a hand with that?”

****

Anne laid a hand over
her fluttering heart. Hades had been saddled and now they were perched atop the
massive black horse. Jon’s arm was like a steel band about her waist, giving
her a measure of security. But to be on a horse, especially one this size, oh
my, oh my.

Oh my indeed!

Her trepidation must
show on her face, for the groom Riley was staring at her so intently. Perhaps
she looked pale. She had felt all the blood drain from her head as Jon lifted
her off the ground. It was still pooled in her feet.

“Mr Riley.” Jon’s tone
was sharp.

The servant jerked
his gaze to Jon. “Yes, my lord.”

“We’ll be back this
afternoon,” Jon said curtly. “At that time I will instruct you on travel
arrangements for Hades.”

Riley nodded, then
made a quick half-bow and hurried away.

Jon began turning the
horse. This part, the motion, always made her tingle with fear all over again.

Jon bent to her ear.
“He tries hard not to look at you.”

She frowned. “Hades?”

“No, Riley.”

She considered the
matter a moment. “I don’t think he’s altogether comfortable around ladies. Or
maybe he doesn’t like them.” The ground appeared to spin. It made her feel as
though her head were floating above her body. She shut her eyes against the
sight.

Jon’s laugh put a
chill through her. “He looks at you plenty when he thinks my attention is
elsewhere.”

She swallowed hard
against a tightening in her throat. “That amuses you?”

“On the contrary, I
feel a little sympathy for him.” His tone sounded too light, too teasing. She
knew him now. He frequently made a cynical jest at his own expense when he was
becoming vexed.

“Perhaps you imagine
the whole matter.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Oh.”

“Anne, you have to
become more alert to men’s reactions to you. You have to be aware of the
dangers inherent in being a desirable woman.”

“Goodness, you sound
so ominous.”

“Even servants get
hard cocks.”

“Jon!”

“It is just a fact of
life. You noticed him staring at you? I mean before today?”

“I did. As I said, I
thought it was merely him being uncomfortable with ladies.”

“And yet you said
nothing to me?”

“It seemed a small
thing. Of no consequence.”

“When you notice
things like this, you are to tell me, right away. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” But she
thought he was being rather extreme over the matter.

“I am quite serious.”
There was a definite edge in his voice now.

“I realize this.”

“Anne, there are
situations in which your noble blood will not protect you.”

His tone stung. Had
she imagined it, or had he put an almost sneering emphasis on the words ‘noble
blood’.

She drew her spine straighter.
“I assure you, my lord, I do understand, very well in fact, that my
noble
blood
will not protect me against danger.”

 
They were moving at a slow, steady pace and
she gazed out over the shoreline. But the sight brought her no pleasure. He was
just as nobly-blooded as she, if not more so. Why was he still being so terse
with her? He had seemed restored to his good humour in the stable.

But again, Jon had
been unhappy with Riley, yet he had chatted with the groom most amiably at
first. Her new husband was adept at hiding his emotions when he felt it suited
his needs. She let herself forget that all too often.

Yet, she was unable
to hide anything from him. He seemed able to peer into her eyes with that
searching gaze and uncover all the thoughts and feelings she would rather keep
secreted away under layers of self-protection.

“Did you think that
perhaps I wouldn’t care?” His sharp tone cut into her thoughts.

“What?”

“Did you think I
would be like Cranfield? That I wouldn’t care?”

She could hear and feel
his increasing sense of crossness. It froze her thinking mind. What could she
possibly say?

What did he want to
hear?

Oh God. What good was
she at placating people? She didn’t understand what others wanted from her
enough to satisfy them. Her heart began to pound. She was going to fail at this
marriage business. Already she was making him angry with her, and she didn’t
even know what she had done. Nor did she know what to do now.

A lump lodged in her
throat as they rode along in silence.

And then he stopped
the horse.

“We’ll have a walk,”
he said.

Chapter Three

Anne stared down from
her vantage point atop the small cliff, watching the white foam rise and fall
as crystal blue waves thrashed the sandy shore. Miles and miles, so many seas
and oceans, stood between her and what was left of her immediate family.
Between a break in the clouds, mellow rays of sunshine warmed her face, she
wanted to be happy, to focus on this special time between Jon and herself.

Yet, she couldn’t
shake the heaviness in her heart over her half-sister Dorothea.

Today had seemed the
warmest since they had arrived in Devon, and she had donned a sensible wool day
dress but left her pelisse at the cottage. She had been cosy enough earlier,
but now a gust coming off the water bit through her clothing and she hugged her
arms tight against her body.

Jon touched her
shoulders.

She
stiffened.

He exhaled softly and
gave her shoulders a gentle caress. “Anne, I will not be a neglectful husband
like Cranfield. I will always protect you. You must always confide in me. You
must trust me.”

“I do trust you. I
just didn’t think the matter with the groom was of any great importance.”

“All right, fair
enough. But it’s not your place to decide what is and is not of importance. You
should tell me about anything that seems irregular or out of the ordinary,
especially where other men are involved. I shall decide what warrants concern
and take appropriate action when needed.”

“What do you intend
to do?”

“If my head groom cannot
learn to keep his eyes to himself, then he will find himself looking for
another position.”

“It seems so
extreme.”

“He should know
better. That he knows better and cannot control himself does not bode well for
him.”

“I should hate to see
his family lose his income.”

He squeezed her hand.
“Let’s not spend the day fretting over the matter. It‘s my worry, not yours.”
He studied her a moment. “You still seem… despondent.”

“No, I am simply
cold.” She hugged herself tighter. “But you seem determined to be cross with
me.”

He didn’t respond for
several moments but she could sense his growing tension. Then he lifted her
hand and placed it to his face and brushed his cheek against the kid leather.

It was a tender
gesture. And it might have melted the frostiness inside her.

But he was watching
her so intently.

 
She wasn’t used to being scrutinized so.
Especially by someone as determined as Jon. He was always trying to discern her
every emotion, every single thought that crossed her mind.

“You’re still sad
about your sister?”

She sucked in her
breath. What an unwelcome question! And for him to pinpoint her thoughts yet
again! Her entire body tensed. To hide her growing agitation, she shrugged with
what she hoped appeared to Jon a careless affect. “Mama was thoughtless.”

“Aye, that she was.”
His voice carried a wealth of sympathy.

Mounting tension
bristled through Anne. Her spine grew stiff and her shoulders raised. “She is
always like that. I should have anticipated her actions.”

“She said she was
sending your sister here to live. To be raised by you. Why should you have
disbelieved her?”

“I should be happy
for Dorothea. She will have more time with Mama. It is selfish of me to be
disappointed.”

“Anne, with me, you
don’t have to say what you believe you should say or be trite and needlessly
polite. You can share with me the truth of your feelings.”

Anne’s chest grew so
heavy, she imagined that she would find the next breath impossible. Purposely,
she inhaled deeply. She was no longer that little girl hiding under the stairs,
crying because Mama had left without her once again.

At the indignity of
the memory, she drew her spine even straighter. “You don’t understand. I don’t
have a right to be disappointed. Or even surprised. Of all people,
I
should have known she might change her
mind. She is so capricious, she always was.”

Jon removed his hand
from hers and put his hands on her raised, tensed shoulders and pulled her
closer. His strong grip was comforting and her heart began to hammer because it
suddenly didn’t feel safe to feel that way.

Or to feel anything
at all.

She wished he hadn’t
felt the need to delve deeply into the issue, as now she was thinking more
deeply of the whole matter as well.

Mama’s recent actions
just proved how people couldn’t be trusted to be consistent. This was what
happened when one forgot that law regarding human nature.

No, no, she didn’t
want to think like that anymore. She’d selected one person to trust in the
whole world.

Jon.

She wouldn’t let
disappointments with others create tension between them. But this discussion
needed to stop. Now. Because it was too painful to be pushed to talk so openly
about her feelings.

Because it made her
want to pick up her skirts and run from him.

And now that his
crossness was eased, she just wanted to be close to him in a very basic way.
They needn’t peel back each other’s defences and share every single thought and
feeling to enjoy an afternoon together!

“We shall be married
a long time and we shall share many difficult times together. Those times will be
less of a strain if you will remain open with me.”

She turned to him. “I
am fine.”

He blinked at her
several times. “You’re lying to me.”

“All right, then, I
admit it. I do feel a bit morose. It’s just that the ocean is so turbulent
today. It doesn’t suit my mood.”

He pinned her with
his intense gaze, his eyes a more brilliant blue than aquamarines. In the brisk
wind, his hair rippled across his bronzed forehead and glinted in tones of
palest ash blond. This same stare had once made her squirm with apprehension.
At times, as now, it still did. She offered him what she hoped was a bright,
happy smile.

His gaze softened
with tenderness, a breathtaking juxtaposition to his fierce features. “Is it
really so hard to admit that you’re feeling a bit sad over your sister? And I
mean to do so without intellectualising the situation away or blaming
yourself?”

How could she explain
it? She had learned to trust him enough to give her body without reservation.
To pledge her love and companionship for life. Yet she couldn’t help holding
parts of herself back. She’d spent her whole life isolated from others, keeping
her own counsel. Her disappointment over her sister’s aborted arrival felt too
private for sharing with anyone. Even with Jon. “Couldn’t we take a turn about the
wood?”

He twisted his mouth
in a sceptical gesture. “Anne, you’re avoiding the topic.”

She forced a laugh.
It hung, stilted and jarring, between them. “I am fine. Please do not worry.
Come.” She reached for his hand and pulled it. “You promised to bag a quail for
me, remember?”

“So I did, my lady.”
He glanced down at her hand on his and his tone became intimate. “But you
should be careful issuing such reckless invitations.”

Warmth spread through
her belly, like honey in her blood, dispelling her foreboding mood.

This
Jon did not disquiet her, this Jon she could handle.

“Reckless
invitations?” A genuine smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“There are many
dangers for a pretty little wench in the wood.”

The stirrings of
arousal quickened her heartbeat. “I am no wench, I am the Countess of Ruel.”

“You could easily be
mistaken for a lost little wench.”

Definite heat pulsed
deeper into her belly. He’d teased her since the beginning with the threat of
ravishing her in the woods. But with the cottage so cosy and the big bed so
comfortable…

“We had better hurry,
if the cook is to have time to prepare us a quail for supper. Otherwise, we’ll
have to have more of those pigeons.” He began to walk, still holding her hand.

She walked along with
him. “Oh please, no—you promised.”

“Well, come along
then.”

She hastened her pace
to keep up with his long-legged stride. When they reached the spot where Hades
was tied up, they remounted the horse and rode the path to the wooded area of
the property. Then they dismounted again. He led her into an especially thick
coppice.

He put his hands on
her shoulders then leant close and placed a quick kiss to her lips. “You stay
right here and I shall go and fetch your quail for you.”

Her smile settled
more naturally. “All right.”

He touched a
fingertip to her nose. “Think only happy thoughts.”

She leaned against an
enormous oak and did as he bade, letting her mind linger over the happy moments
of the past week. Shortly after she heard the shot, he returned, holding his
game sack up and grinning. “I have got your quail. A very nice one, my lady.”

He hung the game sack
up over a low-lying branch of a smaller tree and then came to her. “Now what
manner of reward are you prepared to give?”

He returned to her,
took her by the shoulders and pushed her against the oak’s trunk. He straddled
her body, his strong, hard muscled thighs gripping hers. His eyes glittered,
their pupils enlarged. She knew that look well. Her heartbeat quickened all the
more and fire sparked deep in her belly. A soft laugh escaped her lips.

He placed his hand
upon the base of her neck and lightly gripped her. “Or shall I take my reward
as I see fit?”

Her nipples tightened
and blood surged into her centre. She let her gaze drop to his simple knotted cravat.
His teasing was most arousing and she assumed they would return home now. Home
to their cosy, warm bed.

He bent slightly.
Then with a jerk, he pulled her skirts up—no, rather he shoved them up, above
her waist. Chilly air assaulted her legs, hips and loins.

She gasped. “Jon!”

He chuckled in the
low, slightly sinister way that always sent her pulse racing. “When the lady of
manor goes out walking with the game warden, she must expect some rough
handling.”

“Anyone could come
along!”

“Only our servants.”

“I shall die of shame
if one of the servants catches us.”

“Shh…” He leant
closer. His heated breath blew over her neck. Heated shivers raced along her
skin and her nipples tightened into even stiffer points, poking painfully
against her chemise. He had forbidden her to wear stays here in the country.

He nipped her,
lightly. “I challenged you to take some measured risks and it all turned out
well, did it not?”

“Yes, but…”

He touched the
buttons on her simple wool dress and began to undo them. She watched his
masculine fingers on the tiny buttons and marvelled that he was so adept with
them.

“You worry too much
about staying safe. You close yourself off from life that way. Now I shall
teach you the thrill of taking wicked risks, my lady.”

“Wicked risks are exactly
what have got us into trouble.”

“No, your lack of
understanding of when and where to break certain rules got us into trouble.” He
ran a fingertip between the twin swells of her breasts. “A lady ought not
become drunk at supper but she may make love in a wood, so long as no one
sees.”

A pleasurable shiver
rippled through her.

He continued
unbuttoning her dress past the point of her waist.

She reached for his
hands and gripped them. “You’ve bared the parts you’re most interested in, have
you not?”

He laughed softly,
shook off her grip and continued unfastening the dainty buttons. “Be a good
girl for me, Nan.”

“It is really too
chilly to be completely bare today.”

He grinned. “But I
want you bare.”

“I shall be cold!”

“A little, at first.
But your breasts will show to perfection like that.” Her dress floated to the
ground.

“We’re so close to
the path here. Too close, I don’t care what you say. Someone might see.”

Oh God, she would
simply
die
.

He put his lips to
the hollow beneath her ear and flicked his tongue against her flesh. “We’ll be
very quick. It will decrease our chances of being caught. And the risk will
make it all very thrilling.”

He was wicked.
Wicked.

However, a mix of
fear and arousal swirled inside her.

She knew how to say no
in a way he would take seriously. He would stop this seduction and they would
continue on their walk.

She just had to utter
one single word.

Sapphire.

But she couldn’t do
it.

Her whole body was
thrumming with anticipation and desire.