Mad Jack (Sherbrooke Brides 4)

Helen just laughed and patted her hand. “We will see, Jack. We will see.”

Just ten minutes before the newly married Lord and Lady Cliffe left the St. Cyre town house, Ryder Sherbrooke, clothes askew, hair windblown, strode into the entrance hall, saw that he’d missed the wedding, howled one mournful note, then kissed Jack and said, “Gray, you will give me just a moment.”

Gray didn’t have a chance to thank Ryder for all his trouble. Ryder immediately said, “Remember I told you I would have just one piece of advice for you?”

Gray blinked, then said, “Yes, I remember. You rode like a demon to get here in time to give me this advice?”

“It’s important, Gray. Now, listen.”

17

THE ST. Cyre carriage was well sprung, the carriage rugs soft and warm. A light gray rain tapped gently on the roof. The sway of the carriage was mesmerizing.

“I feel quite stupid,” Jack said, leaning her head back against Gray’s shoulder and closing her eyes. “I wish you would tell me what I didn’t understand.”

Gray, whose headache had finally subsided to a dull throb, was thinking about what Ryder had told him. “You married me. That wasn’t stupid.”

“No, what I said to Helen, telling her we wished to stay with our guests.”

“Oh, yes, surrounded by our friends well into our wedding night. Everyone was amused. Even Douglas gave me this pat on the shoulder, grinning like a dog.”

“But I still don’t understand why—”

“I have a favor to beg of you, Jack.”

He felt her cheek against his shoulder, felt her turn her face into his shoulder and kiss him.

“Um, the favor is that I don’t wish to speak of this until tomorrow morning.”

She gave him one more kiss, then leaned back. “Why?”

“Because between now and tomorrow morning, you are going to become a very well-educated woman. You will come to fully understand concepts that before were mere cloudy ideas swirling about in the ether. You will see with unusual clarity why no one would have expected the two of us to remain with them for more than one single champagne toast.”

“Now,” Jack said, very firmly. “I want you to educate me now.”

Even the dull throbbing in his head was miraculously gone. He felt strong, powerful, so manly that his chest expanded. As for his body, he was quite ready to consummate his marriage in the next ten seconds.

“We’re in a carriage. A man doesn’t do educating in a moving carriage, at least not the very first day he’s married. It wouldn’t be well done of him.”

She straightened up and kissed his neck. “I like the way the carriage is rocking back and forth.” She lightly touched her fingertips to his chin, slowly bringing his face around to hers. “Why not? I think anything you do would be well done. My father always believed that education was an important endeavor.”

He grabbed her hand and brought it down to his lap. No, that was far too close to the center of his attention. No sense in terrifying her. He quickly set her hand on his leg, near his knee.

“Jack,” he said, looking at those tender little ears of hers, wondering what it would be like to nibble on them, just a bit, “you’re a virgin. You don’t know about things yet. When I’m ready to teach you, we will do it right. In a nice soft bed. In the very best bedchamber at the Swan’s Neck.”

“Why?” She turned her hand palm down onto his thigh. He looked at her gloved hand, surely too far up his leg, inching upward more, her fingers now curving inward, not six inches from his groin. He pictured the glove off that hand of hers and the hand, all white and soft, lightly touching his flesh, since his clothes were miraculously gone, caressing him, and he nearly flung her onto her back on the carriage seat.

“No,” he said chanting a litany. “No. I’m a man, not a randy boy so filled with lust that I’ll stutter myself off a cliff if I can’t gently lift you onto that other seat, gently pull up your gown, and gently come over you, all with a froth of petticoats. Yes, naturally I want to do it right now, right this minute, but as I said earlier, I’m a man, a controlled man who knows what he’s about.” He fell into brooding silence. He desperately wanted to make love to her right now. He couldn’t think of a single thing more important than making love to her right now. Who cared about a soft bed? What did it matter in the scheme of things?

Odd how a man’s brain worked, he thought, trying to get something in his head except lust. He lifted her onto his lap. “I’ve decided halfway measures won’t be all that bad. Lie back against my arm. I want to look at you.”

She stretched back against his arm, all boneless, trusting, innocent—his wife. He felt immense guilt for perhaps a single second.

He unfastened the bow beneath her chin and lifted off her bonnet. He saw the innocence and wickedness in her eyes and laughed. “You’ve got me in a bad way here, Jack. What am I to do?”

“You’re to get out of that bad way, Gray.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. Be still. Ah, damnation.” He leaned down and kissed her mouth, warm and soft, that mouth of hers.