Mad Jack (Sherbrooke Brides 4)
“Enough is enough, Jack. As I told you, the bleeding is natural. It’s nothing either to alarm you or embarrass you. It won’t ever happen again. I told you I was sorry. You’re being a twit. Stop it.”
At least she was finall
y clean—thanks to him; wearing her nightgown—thanks to him; and draped over with a lovely pale peach peignoir—yet again thanks to him. He sighed. He didn’t think she was on the verge of thanking him for his kind attention.
“We will dine here, if it pleases you.”
“It’s still daylight, and I’m in my nightgown like an invalid. It’s not right.”
“If you would like to dress, we could stroll about the town.”
“On the other hand, it will be dark very soon now.”
“Yes, and there’s only to be a quarter moon tonight. We wouldn’t see much of the town and its surrounding scenery with such a small moon.”
“A well-made point. After all, this is a lovely room.”
“Yes, Douglas told me Alexandra particularly admired that bed.”
At last that got her attention. She looked away from the embroidery and up at him. “You embarrassed me, Gray. You made me lie here on my back and you made me open my legs. Then you looked at me and wiped me down, like a horse.”
He raked his hand through his hair. “I had to clean you up, Jack. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I’m sorry. It’s just that I wanted to make sure I hadn’t hurt you, ripped you or something. I’ve heard that sometimes happens.”
“If you did rip me, then it’s really bad, Gray. I hurt all the way to my stomach.”
She was utterly serious. She was actually rubbing her belly. He laughed. He thought of Ryder Sherbrooke’s secret to a successful marriage and laughed—until he felt her hairbrush strike his chest. He picked it up off the soft woven carpet at his feet and placed it on the dressing table.
He walked to the bed, gathered her stiff body up against him, and said against her pursed lips, “I promise our next time together you won’t be seated on my lap in a lurching carriage. I’m sorry, Jack, it wasn’t well done of me. As a matter of fact, it was exceedingly badly done of me. I lost my wits.” He leaned back and studied her face. “You know, if you weren’t so beautiful, so utterly delicious, I would have been able to exercise nobility.”
“I’m not beautiful. I’m about as delicious as a green strawberry. You’re just saying that because you feel guilty. And how like a man—you’re trying to make it my fault, though I was but an innocent bystander.”
“You’re right. But you weren’t exactly bystanding at the time. It makes me feel even guiltier that I feel so marvelous myself, all sated and manly and satisfied with life. Men are very straightforward creatures. It behooves us to remember that women are delicate and easily shocked, and ever so tight inside.”
She pulled back in his arms and stared at him as if mesmerized. “Goodness, you really did say that, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” he said and kissed her, “I did. Ah, here comes our dinner. I ordered it and forgot. If you like, you can test me. Shall we bare your breasts and see if I can pay more attention to my meal than to you?”
“No, not yet. Listen, Gray, it isn’t fair that you feel guilty, even though your reasons for feeling guilty are remarkably self-serving. No, I wanted you to do what you did to me in the carriage, I really did. I wanted to know what it was all about. Those drawings were so exciting, but I just didn’t know it would be the way it turned out to be.”
“You mean hurtful, messy, and not any fun at all?”
“I fear so, yes.”
“Lovemaking is always messy. It should also be a lot of fun. Next time it will be, I promise you. And since you’re no longer a virgin, it won’t hurt anymore.”
He started laughing again. He pressed his face against her hair and nearly swallowed his tongue, he was laughing so hard. “Oh, God, it’s something to tell our grandchildren. Grandmama was hiding from Grandpa under the bed, all wrapped up like a mummy. Will they believe it?”
He still had a silly smile on his face when the innkeeper, Mrs. Hardley, came into the bedchamber, beaming at the newlyweds and carrying their dinner of roast duck, ivory peas, carrot puffs, and Monmouth pudding layered with raspberry jam, all on a huge silver tray crowned by a silver dome.
“Now, my dears,” she said, “we must keep up your strength.”
“Jack?”
“I’m asleep.”
“Your stomach doesn’t still hurt, does it?”
“No, I’m just very sore in places I didn’t know could become sore.”