Destitute On His Doorstep (25 page)

She had stopped pulling at her trapped wrists. She felt the sudden breeze blow across the land, but did not feel its chill. She felt desire, hot and dangerous and exciting. She bit on her lower lip, but she could not stop it trembling. There was only one cure for that, and it worked when Francis pressed his mouth on hers. His
tongue was insistent until she met it with her own, first with hesitancy, then with welcome, then with passion.

 

The wedding of Jane and Francis was attended by a select few. Richard and Elizabeth were in London with Alice, and much as Jane would have liked Francis's brother and his wife to be there, she was glad Alice was absent. Apart from Mary and Hester, who had decided to stay for the wedding, there were just a few of Francis's friends who lived in Avery.

Because of the new regulations governing marriage under the Commonwealth, they were married before the justice of the peace in Avery, where the formalities were of the simplest kind. When he repeated his vows, Francis smiled as he gazed down into Jane's eyes, and when it came for her to speak her vows, her heart was so full of love she could hardly make herself heard. But the civil rite did not satisfy Jane or Francis, and wanting to feel it had been lawfully done, afterwards the wedding party entered the church in Avery to receive their blessing by a minister.

Many people turned out to see the happy couple, and Jane was heard to comment cynically how strange it was that those who would have happily seen her tried for witchcraft and hanged for a witch, should have forgotten so soon and were at the forefront of the crowd to wish them a long and happy life together.

Everyone returned to Bilborough, where a feast had been laid on for the guests. It was a quiet affair and when they had taken their leave, Francis drew his radiant bride towards him and lifted her gently and carried her in his arms up the stairs to their bedchamber, where the windows looked out over the gardens and the fields
beyond. There he undressed her and laid her down on the soft bed. When he joined her, naked in her innocence she turned and faced him and closed her eyes, letting the warmth of his body against her cool skin wash over her. His warm breath stirred shivers along her flesh, and a curious excitement tingled in her breast.

His hand and his lips, skilled and knowledgeable, wanted to know and taste every part of her. He caressed and stroked her and found the core of her so that she sighed and moaned between her kisses. Holding her close, his hard-muscled chest pressed against hers, he entered her and she clung to him, feeling pain that made her gasp, followed by a warmth deep inside that made her sob with pleasure. She was devoured in a searing, scorching flame that shot through her like a flaming rocket. The warmth spread until her skin seemed to glow.

Never had she felt such delight as they gave and took their pleasure of each other, moving and seeking, their need for each other a hunger beyond sanity. Jane writhed in a sensuous fire, consumed by its flames, their sighs of ecstasy muffled by ardent kisses, their bodies demanding and contented in a frenzy of loving until she cried out loud. And then there was nothing but their laboured breathing as Jane lay in the fold of her husband's arm.

Leaning on his elbow, Francis looked down her, his blue eyes smiling and radiant with love. Jane could feel the glow of it on her flesh. ‘If I could, I would make time stand still for this one night,' he murmured, brushing aside the ebony curtain of her hair and placing his lips in the warm softness of her neck.

Nestling into him, she sighed. ‘We have a whole
lifetime to be together, every moment of it, but I doubt even that will be long enough. So love me again, Francis—my husband.' She raised her hand and caressed his cheek. ‘You cannot know how good it feels to say that.'

He grinned and rolled her on to her back. ‘You cannot know how good it feels to hear you say it. Nearly as good, in fact, as…' His mouth was taken in a gently arousing kiss, and he did as she asked and loved her until the sky lightened with the dawn.

 

Jane awoke to the sound of birds. She turned her head to the man who was still asleep beside her, as snug and warm as a wolf in its lair. She smiled as she remembered the night past, already anticipating the moment when he would wake and they would begin again.

Cautiously so as not to wake him, she slipped out of bed and padded across to the window, pulling back the heavy curtains from the lattice window. The room was suddenly filled with bright sunlight. Every detail of the scene that met her eyes was familiar to her, but never had it affected her as it did at that moment.

She heard a rustling behind her and a floorboard creaked, and then two strong arms came around her and her husband lifted her hair and kissed the nape of her neck. She leaned against him and sighed and together they stood at the long window of their bedchamber overlooking the gardens, golden edged with brilliance, the sky so blue and so large it filled the empty window.

‘Thank you,' she whispered.

His arms tightened around her. ‘Thank you? What is there to thank me for?'

‘For bringing me back to this. This house—this
peace—this world that will be ours. Bilborough is a gift indeed, but the greatest gift of all you have given me is your love.'

‘For ever, my darling,' he murmured, and as he said it, Jane's precious Bilborough, the day and the world were all around them, new with hope and possibility.