The Countess (18 page)

“Controlling idiot,” Richard snorted with disgust, and suddenly leaned across the small space and snatched the cloth from her.

“Richard!” she cried with surprise, and then half rose from her seat to try grab it back. “Give me that back.”

He merely held the cloth behind his head and asked, “Do you enjoy it or do you only do it because he said you should and it has become a habit?”

“I—well . . .” She frowned and muttered, “It would not hurt me to learn to be a proper lady. Mother died shortly after Lisa was born and I fear Father let us run a bit wild. We didn’t learn what most girls do.”

“That does not answer my question. Do you enjoy it?” he repeated, grabbing her arm to steady her as they hit a rut in the road.

“No,” she admitted on a sigh. “I do not like it at all.”

“Just as I thought,” he said dryly. Richard opened the window and tossed the embroidery out.

Christiana gaped after the fluttering bit of cloth, and then turned to peer at him in amazement. “I cannot believe you just did that.”

“Believe it,” Richard said solemnly. “You do not need to do embroidery if you do not like it. I will not try to change you. You can be yourself with me.”

She stared into his face for a moment and then swallowed a sudden lump in her throat and shook her head. “You do not know me. What if you do not like me once you do? Dicky said I was—”

“My brother was an idiot,” he assured her solemnly. “He was selfish and self-absorbed and lacked the capacity to care about anyone but himself. In truth, I suspect all those efforts to try to control and change you were based in envy.”

“Envy?” Christiana asked with surprise.

Richard nodded. “You have something he never possessed and never could. You appear to have a basic optimism and joy in life. I’ve seen it. Oh, I’m sure you worry when trouble strikes and can have a sad day like anyone else, but you can also just as quickly shed your fears and worries and smile and enjoy life once those worries pass. I do not think George enjoyed a single day in his life. I do not think he ever felt hope, or happiness. Perhaps he was afraid that if he did find happiness it would be snatched away, but whatever the case, he just did not have it in him. I suspect that is why he liked to take it from others.” Richard peered at her solemnly. “From what I can tell he spent the last year trying to browbeat that happiness out of you.”

“And he tried to steal it from you by having you killed and taking your name and position in society,” she said quietly. “And yet as you say, he wasn’t happy.”

“No, he wasn’t,” Richard agreed, but his voice was distracted this time, his gaze suddenly fixed.

Christiana raised her eyebrows at the change in both his expression and the sudden tightening of his fingers on her arm, and then glanced down and saw what had caught his attention. She still stood in the half-bent position she’d taken when she’d tried to grab back her embroidery. It left her slightly bent at the waist, and her chest directly before his eyes with the neckline gaping to reveal a good deal of her bosom. Blushing furiously she forgot she was in a carriage and started to straighten, managing to bang her head on the roof, and then they hit a rut in the road and she stumbled forward.

Richard reached to steady her even as she caught at his shoulders and between the two of them she came to a halt with her bosom just a hair’s breadth from his mouth.

“I should really sit down before I fall down,” she said breathlessly, the moment she could find her voice.

“Yes,” Richard agreed, but rather than release her, his hands shifted to the back of her legs and with a little pressure and guidance she was suddenly straddling him on the bench seat.

“Oh, I don’t think—”

The rest of her very lame protest was lost when his mouth suddenly covered hers. Christiana didn’t even try to pretend she wanted to protest further, but opened to him at once and let her arms creep around his neck with a little sigh. She did so like his kisses. Christiana had been able to think of little else since their night of passion, the memories of what they’d done and how he’d made her feel had interfered with her every thought since then.

When he deepened the kiss, driving his tongue into her mouth, she gave a little moan and tilted her head for him, her fingers tightening on the strands of his hair and then scraping across his scalp as the familiar heat began to build in her lower belly. His hands had settled on her hips once he had her on his lap, but began to move now, riding up her sides and then around until he could cup her breasts in his hands through the cloth of her gown. Christiana arched into the caress, groaning as he began to knead the eager flesh through the soft material. As nice as it was, she found herself wishing her gown away so she could feel his flesh against her own. She knew from experience how much nicer it was when his hands, work roughened from his time on the farm, were unimpeded by material.

Christiana had barely had the thought when Richard gave up caressing her and began to tug at her gown, trying to pull it off her shoulders. Releasing her hold on his head, she reached to help and then gave a little sigh and shiver as the cloth slid down her arms, freeing her bosom. Richard broke their kiss then to allow her to lean back and remove her arms from the sleeves. The material soon dropped away, leaving her completely, brazenly bare from the waist up.

Christiana would have pressed herself shyly against him then and kissed him once more to help ease the embarrassment suddenly claiming her, but Richard held her back, determined to look his fill. His eyes traveled hungrily over what she’d revealed, and then he said, “You’re beautiful. Absolutely perfect.”

His voice was rough with a need that called out to the hunger she was experiencing and then his hands rose to cover both naked globes and she sighed with a combination of relief and pleasure as he began to caress her. Covering his hands with her own, Christiana squeezed as well, urging him on and then moaned and tipped her head back, eyes closing as he caught her nipples between thumbs and forefingers and toyed with them. The heat in her belly was now a wildfire, spreading outward and making her very core ache in a way she’d never experienced before Richard.

Gasping with want, she squeezed his hands harder and then raised her head and kissed him with all the hunger he was causing in her. It wasn’t enough. Even when he drove his tongue between her lips, and she writhed into his hands, her hips pressing down into his lap, it still wasn’t enough. She wanted more. When he slid one hand out from under hers, it left her own covering the abandoned orb and Christiana instinctively squeezed it herself and then stiffened with a gasp as she felt the roughened fingers of his hand touch her knee beneath her skirt and begin to glide up her inner thigh. When it reached the apex of her thighs and brushed over the damp, swollen flesh there, her hips rose up with a jolt, but his caress followed and she broke their kiss to groan his name desperately. And then to squeal it with shock as the carriage suddenly shuddered to a halt and she went flying backward.

Fortunately, Christiana landed on the bench seat across from Richard, though she arrived there in something of a muddle, her skirts flying up to cover her face and chest.

“Are you all right?” Richard was there at once trying to right her and brushing her skirts down so that he could see her face.

“Yes,” Christiana assured him, pulling her gown up to cover her chest and peering about uncertainly. “What happened? Why have we stopped?”

“I’m not sure,” Richard admitted and turned to peer out the window. While he was distracted, Christiana quickly slid her arms back into her sleeves and pulled the top of her gown back into place. She was feeling her hair, trying to tell if it was all right or needed fixing when he muttered, “It would appear we’ve reached Stevanage. I told them to stop there for lunch.”

“Oh,” she murmured and let her hands drop as he turned back to her. His eyebrows rose when he saw what she’d done.

“That was fast, and you look as perfect as you did this morning. Well done,” he praised and then pressed a quick kiss to the tip of her nose before turning back to open the carriage door.

Christiana stared after him with amazement as he got out of the carriage. The compliment was nice, but the kiss on the nose had seemed . . . well, it had been the affectionate sort of thing her father would have done when she was younger. Not that she thought Richard’s feelings toward her were in any way fatherly, but the action seemed to speak of affection.

“Are you coming, Christiana?”

She blinked and stared at the hand Richard was holding out to her, but then took it and descended from the carriage, noting that there appeared to be something in his expression that could have been affection as well. Or perhaps she was just imagining that because she wanted to believe it was there, Christiana acknowledged on a small sigh.

“Is something wrong?” Richard asked, apparently having heard the sigh.

Christiana shook her head at once. “No, no. Everything is fine,” she assured him glancing around to see the other two carriages had drawn to a halt behind them and everyone was disembarking.

“Come, let’s get you inside and find you something to eat,” Richard said, taking her arm to lead her toward the inn.

“What about the others?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder.

“They’ll follow. I’m more concerned with you. You skipped breakfast this morning in favor of packing and I suspect you didn’t eat much of the tray I had sent up to your room last night when you didn’t join us at the table.”

“I was helping Grace pick out what we should bring,” she explained.

“I know, and I understand, but you’re looking a bit pale now and a good meal will probably set you to rights.”

Christiana fell silent and merely allowed him to lead her inside, but her thoughts were not silent. George had always been nagging at her about eating, using it as an opportunity to force her to eat unpleasant things she didn’t care for when he was annoyed with her. She didn’t deliberately skip eating. The problem was she’d been so miserable this last year she hadn’t really felt like doing anything, even eating. That wasn’t what had happened last night and this morning, though. Her forgetting to eat then had just been because she was so busy.

But Richard wasn’t nagging at her and using it as an opportunity to berate and insult her as George had always done. Instead he was being sweet and understanding and even concerned. It made her feel . . . cared for.

“Here we are.” He settled her at a large table where everyone could join them and then glanced toward the innkeeper and back before asking, “Is there anything you don’t like?”

Christiana felt her eyes narrow. “Why?”

“So I don’t accidentally order you something you don’t care for,” he said with a laugh as if that should be obvious, and she supposed it should have been. Richard was not George.

Smiling, she said, “As long as it is not kippers, kidney, or liver, I should like it.”

Richard nodded and headed off to speak with the innkeeper. Christiana watched him go, thinking that her life had definitely changed for the better. If he continued to treat her as he had since their meeting at the ball, she thought she could have a nice life, perhaps even a very nice, happy life.

Or not, Christiana thought on a sigh, because between the pleasure he gave her, the respect he showed her, and the kindness with which he dealt with her, she could easily fall in love with this man, truly in love, not the infatuation she’d decided she’d had for George. And that would be awful if he didn’t love her back.

“Men!”

Christiana glanced around with surprise as Lisa suddenly dropped into the seat beside her, her face disgruntled and eyes glaring as she watched Langley walk over to join Richard by the innkeeper.

“Don’t mind her,” Suzette said, taking up the seat on Christiana’s other side as Daniel went to join the men. “She’s just annoyed with Robert.”

“Why?” Christiana asked, glancing from one to the other.

“Because if he is not ignoring me, he is treating me like a child and I am heartily sick of it.” Lisa said grimly. “I think I shall ride with you and Dicky for the rest of the journey.”

“Richard,” Christiana corrected, and felt a moment’s regret that she would not be alone with him again. It was quickly followed by the more sensible side of her mind deciding that might be a good thing. She had no doubt that had the carriage not stopped, by now she and Richard would be doing things a girl wasn’t supposed to do until she was married. And while she’d thought she was married this last year, she wasn’t, so shouldn’t be doing them . . . which was really a shame because she liked it very much. But in a couple days they would reach Gretna Green and be married and could do it all they liked, Christiana reminded herself . . . unless Richard was like George and suddenly changed the moment the “I dos” were said. That thought had her frowning and glancing to the man worriedly.

“You can’t leave me alone with the men, Lisa,” Suzette protested. “Who will I talk to?”

“The men?” Christiana suggested, forcing her attention back to the conversation.

Suzette snorted at the idea. “They don’t talk. Not when they’re together. Daniel talks to me when we’re alone, but with Langley in the carriage I couldn’t get him to talk about anything.”

“When have you been alone with Daniel?” Christiana asked with a frown.