A Countess of Convenience Read online

  “By George, Mother thought of everything.” He pointed at another horse contentedly munching on oats. “Old Madge here will be perfect for your riding lessons.”

  He gestured for Prudence to come closer, and she reluctantly did so. Catching her hand, he lifted it toward Madge's nose. When Prudence resisted, he looked at her with a teasing smile. “A horse is just a big pony. If you weren't afraid of a pony there's no reason to fear a gentle creature like Madge.”

  “I am not afraid,” Prudence stated firmly and forced herself to stroke the velvety area between the horse's nostrils. The horse continued to munch oats with barely a glance at Prudence. Giggling at her own timidity, she stroked more forcefully, finally reaching up to the animal's forelock. Madge's only response was to twitch her ears.

  Noticing Malvern's self-satisfied smile as he watched her, she pulled her hand away from the horse. “You see. I'm not afraid.”

  He nodded. “I'm glad. Riding through the countryside will give us a way to pass the time while we're here. No doubt that's why Mother sent the horses.”

  Prudence sniffed. “She's probably embarrassed that the new Countess of Malvern does not know how to ride properly, and wants you to teach me out here where no one will see.”

  Draping her arm over his, he said, “That too,” and led her from the stable.

  The only other building in sight of the lodge was a neat cottage off to the right. “Who lives there?” Prudence asked.

  “Clarence and Annie. They are the full-time custodians of the lodge. That's why I was surprised Mother didn't leave others to attend us. They really aren't house servants.”

  They walked back to the front entrance of the lodge in near darkness. Inside, a fire crackled in the fireplace, and the table was now covered with a snowy linen cloth and two place settings of china and silverware. Annie bustled into the room, carrying crystal wine glasses.

  She looked at them with surprise and stopped uncertainly. “I was just bringing these glasses in. Didn't know ye'd be back from yer walk.”

  Malvern waved her on. “That's all right, Annie. Go on about your work. But we've just had a large meal at the manor and won't be in need of food for a while.”

  Placing the glasses on the table, she turned toward them and began her strange ritual of talking, walking and bobbing short curtsies all at the same time. “I know, yer lordship. Yer mother said ye'd be wanting a late supper and sent the fixin's fer a cold one.” She stopped near the door to the kitchen. “She said we could retire to our cottage after layin’ things out. If that's all right with you, of course.”

  Malvern nodded and smiled. “That's an excellent idea, Annie. In fact, just leave the food in the kitchen and we'll help ourselves whenever we get hungry.”

  Annie bobbed another curtsy and reached for the door.

  Alarmed, Prudence called out, “But, come back later. I don't have a maid with me and will need help with my—at bedtime.”

  Before Annie could respond, Malvern said, “No need to stay up for that, Annie. I can help her ladyship at bedtime.”

  “I won't mind coming back, my lord,” Annie said.

  “Nonsense. I'm sure you're not used to the late hours we keep, and our being here is causing you extra work, so return to your cottage and get your much-deserved rest. Her ladyship and I will get along famously on our own.”

  Annie shot Prudence a questioning look. Knowing Lord Malvern was correct about the old woman needing her rest, Prudence felt compelled to smile and nod weakly, even though the thought of him helping her undress jangled her nerves.

  With a nod and another little bobble, Annie left the room.

  “What shall we do this evening?” Prudence looked about the room for a cue on how she might entertain the earl until suppertime.

  She spied book shelves near the fireplace and hurried over to study the titles. Malvern came up behind and hovered over her shoulder. “Do you see anything here that might interest you?” she asked.

  “Yes.” His hands lightly fell on her shoulders and he leaned down until his lips brushed against her ear. “I'm very interested in getting to know my new wife.”

  She tried to turn so she could face him and put some distance between her ear and his lips, but her full skirt against his legs and the steady pressure of his hands made movement difficult. Craning her neck, she looked back at him. “Then let's go over to the sofa where we can talk more comfortably.”

  He smiled as though he knew a humorous secret. “That's a good idea. I'd love to get out of this cursed collar. It's been choking me all day.” Leading her toward the sofa with one hand, he began to pull at his neck cloth with the other.

  Soon he'd removed cloth and collar and dropped them in a chair. After seating her on the sofa, he removed his jacket, draped it over the arm of the chair and sprawled beside her with a sigh of relief.

  Having never seen him so casually dressed, Prudence giggled nervously as she continued to sit primly on the edge of the sofa.

  “Can't you relax a bit, Prudence?”

  She had to look over her shoulder to face him. “I'm quite comfortable, thank you.”

  “You don't look comfortable. In fact you look quite ill at ease.”

  What did he expect? She was alone with a strange man. Of course, this stranger was her husband, and they would be sleeping in the same bed tonight. Sooner or later, she had to overcome her shyness around him. She tried to slide back and emulate his relaxed posture but bulging petticoats and unyielding stays prevented her from doing more than leaning her shoulders against the sofa back.

  A throaty chuckle sounded from her companion. “I forgot the constraints a lady's clothing places on her. Why don't we go into the bedroom and find something more comfortable for you to wear?”

  Prudence sprang back to an upright position. “It's much too early for that.”

  He moved so he could place his arm around her waist and breathe heavily against her cheek. “It's never too early to be comfortable, Prudence.”

  Panic built in her chest. “I don't have anything comfortable except my night clothes. I can't sit around all evening in those.”

  He rubbed his cheek against hers and she felt the faint roughness of the beard that had grown since his morning shave. “We're both on edge, waiting for what's to come. Why don't we go ahead and get rid of all this tension.”

  She looked at him with horror. “Now? I thought we would do it at bedtime.”

  He smiled lazily as he pulled her around to face him. “Thanks to my mother's clever planning, we're here all alone. We can do anything anytime we want to.” His lips covered hers before she could protest.

  The clothing that had made it impossible for Prudence to relax her sitting posture also made it difficult for her to hold her body away from his. Slight pressure from his encircling arms soon had her chest pressed against Malvern's. His tongue outlined her lips, and his hand massaged her upper back.

  Something, undoubtedly the tight laces of her corset, made it difficult for her to breathe. As the room began to blur, she turned her mouth away from his and gasped.

  Malvern pushed her away and studied her face. “We've got to get you out of those stays.”

  He stood and pulled her to her feet. With one arm around her waist, he led her into the bedroom. Prudence jumped when the door snapped shut behind her.

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  Chapter 7

  “Let's see to these buttons,” Malvern said as he moved behind Prudence. With the speed a lady's maid would have envied, he undid the row of tiny buttons running down the back of her bodice and pushed the fabric aside, exposing the ivory flesh of her upper back.

  Now he could touch her elegant neck. Holding the tops of her shoulders, he leaned forward and dropped light kisses from the base of her neck upward until a dangling curl tickled his nose.

  “I've never seen your hair down. Take it down.”

  She didn't move, and he realized the bodice still hung across the
front of her body and dangled from her arms.

  “Oops.” He laughed as he stepped in front of her. “I'm not doing my job properly, am I?” He tugged the bodice sleeves away from her arms and tossed the garment aside. She looked nervous and unsure. Her newly liberated arms hung stiffly at her sides as if she wanted to raise them to cover her partially exposed breasts.

  What was she shy about? It wasn't like she'd never bared herself to a man before. But she'd probably thought herself in love with that man, and she really didn't know Malvern, so it was only natural for her to be a bit nervous. And after all, even mistresses wanted to be romanced.

  He embraced her, pulled her body against his, and knowing she'd liked his kisses before, sought her lips. She relaxed into his chest, and soon returned his kisses. When he entered her mouth with his tongue, she softly moaned.

  Feeling the hard stays of her corset, he reluctantly tore his lips from her. “You're so alluring I keep forgetting my duties as your maid.” He attacked the hooks that held her skirt in place and then the tapes of her petticoats, and as a small mountain of material collected around her legs, she lifted her arms and began to remove the pins for her hair.

  He hurriedly removed the corset, and when it was gone, and her hair rained down around her shoulders, the corkscrew curls reduced to small golden waves, her beauty caused his breath to catch in his throat.

  He felt as if he'd been waiting for this moment for four years instead of four weeks. Grabbing her around the waist, he lifted her out of the mound of clothing and stood her beside the bed. Her breasts, now free and looking softer and fuller than he'd ever seen them, bobbled gently against her chemise.

  He grabbed that flimsy cloth and started to pull at it, but she covered his hands. “Wait,” she said breathlessly. “Do I have to take off everything?”

  What was she trying to pull now? “Absolutely.”

  “But what about you?”

  He grinned, relieved to know she was anxious to see his body. “Oh, I guess it's only fair that I'm as exposed as you are. You take care of the chemise, and I'll get rid of my clothing.”

  He quickly disrobed while trying to watch as she, like a practiced tease, inched the chemise up. When she lifted it above her breasts, he almost fell as he hopped on one foot while removing the shoe from the other but keeping his gaze on her.

  When she was completely nude, she dropped the chemise and sat lightly on the edge of the bed, gazing down and then up again as curiosity seemed to overcome modesty. He was pleased to see her eyes widen a bit when she saw his very upright manhood. He'd been told he was well endowed, and her reaction seemed to say that whatever she had seen before did not come up to his standards.

  He jumped over the mound of clothing and stood before her, studying her lush curves. “You're more beautiful than I imagined.”

  My God, she looked like she was blushing. Surely this wasn't the first time someone had complimented her body. He cupped both breasts in his hands, lifted them and lightly stroked the nipples with his thumbs.

  She gasped.

  “Do you like that?”

  She nodded as her nipples hardened into rose-colored pebbles. He grinned at this evidence of the fiery nature he had wished for.

  His body now pulsed with need. He grasped her around the waist and lifted her until she folded her legs back and knelt on the bed. Bracing one of his knees against the side of the bed, he wedged the other between her thighs.

  She looked startled and pulled back as if trying to keep him from touching her core, but he pursued her and soon felt soft, wet flesh against his thigh. Just what he'd expected.

  He rubbed against her with short strokes. She reached back, bracing her hands against the bed. Was she trying to increase the friction or to pull away from him? When she shifted her legs so that her heels could press into the mattress and her legs open widely, he knew what she wanted.

  He pulled his thigh out of the way, held his manhood with one hand, and shoved it into her shining, crimson opening. He felt resistance at the same instant he heard her shrill cry of pain. He froze for a second, but her tight sheath made his need unbearable.

  Grunting like the pig he was, he sought a rapid release and then threw himself onto the bed beside her.

  Prudence was stunned. She had not known exactly what to expect from mating, but it wasn't this hasty, violent act. After she had gotten over the horrid embarrassment of being naked in front of a man, it had been almost pleasant. Malvern had said nice things about her and touched her in ways that felt good. But suddenly he'd become some sort of ravening beast.

  Was it like this for everyone or had Malvern been unduly rough with her? Were his actions just another example of his self-centeredness? She wanted to crawl away from him and get under the covers, but hesitated to move lest she attract more of his rough attentions.

  He came up on one elbow and glared over at her. “Damn you! I've never physically abused a woman in my life. Why didn't you tell me you were a virgin?”

  She blinked up at him while she tried to process his words. “Wh—why would you think I'm not?”

  He sat up, every muscle radiating anger. “Because your brother told me you'd had an affair with a married man.”

  Holding her knees tightly together, she dug her elbow into the bed and edged away from him. “Why would Neil tell such a lie?”

  Malvern stood and turned, hovering over her. “I was in the market for a new mistress, and he wanted me to think you were available. Why else would I have been so forward with a friend's sister?”

  She stared up at him, horrified by his words. “But if you thought I was...you could have denounced me.”

  “That's not the sort of thing a gentleman does, as you and your brother very well knew.”

  “So you truly were tricked into marrying me?” Her voice shook with emotion.

  His upper lip curled back, as if he smelled something rotten. “Don't look up at me with tear-filled eyes. You know damn well I was.”

  “I didn't know he had told such a monstrous lie.” She completely lost control of herself and covered her face with her hands. Before she could stop the flow of her tears the bedroom door slammed.

  Eventually, she staggered over to the washstand to wash the tears away. The oval mirror over the stand showed swollen eyes and red-blotched skin. She held a damp cloth up to her face.

  Could Neil have told such monstrous lies? She didn't want to believe it, but how much did she really know about her brother? Most of her life, he'd been away at school or living in London.

  If Neil had done all that Malvern had accused him of, then Malvern had been terribly wronged. Could he possibly be lying? Why? They were already married. And why would a man become angry on discovering his wife was a virgin?

  She pulled the cloth away from her face and saw little improvement. After rinsing and wringing it in the cold water, she again held it up to her face. How could she get along with a husband who truly had good reason to hate her?

  Malvern sat in the main room sipping wine and staring into the small fire he'd lit to dispel the evening chill. He had just consummated his marriage like a marauding Hun. Then he'd cursed at his brand new wife and left her sobbing. What in the hell should he do about it?

  Apologize?

  Why?

  If she'd told him the truth, even after they were married, he'd have been more considerate, so it was her fault. But maybe she hadn't known all the lies Neil had told. Maybe Neil had dangled the possibility of marriage to an earl in front of Prudence and that had been enough to win her cooperation. But why had she been so wayward that night in the Metropolitan Hotel? She had to know that wasn't the way people in polite society courted.

  Anyway, all virgins suffer some pain on their wedding nights. Surely other bridegrooms didn't start their married lives begging their wives’ pardon. That would set a poor precedent.

  The click of the latch told him the bedroom door was opening. Prudence came into the sitting room wearing a flowing white r
obe over a white nightgown. With her golden hair falling well below her shoulders, she looked like an angel—an avenging angel? He braced himself.

  “I just want to say,” she said in a small voice, “that I'm sorry I've been so quarrelsome with you, and I will accept whatever living arrangements you make for me.”

  She was apologizing to him! Would he ever know what to expect from this woman? “That's very accommodating of you.”

  She shifted from foot to foot and could barely look him in the eye, acting like a guilty child who was confessing naughty behavior. “I usually try to get along with everyone. But I didn't know how seriously you'd been wronged, so I thought you were just being—well—unfair—”

  He held up a hand. “Stop, please. Sit down.” He gestured toward the other half of the sofa. “Have a glass of port.” He stood and moved to the tray containing the decanter and extra glasses.

  She perched on the far end of the sofa and took the glass from him with a timid, “Thank you.”

  He sat and picked up his own glass, thinking furiously about what to say to her. “We've gotten off to a poor start, but we don't have to continue along this track.”

  She sipped from her glass before glancing forlornly at him. “You have every reason to hate me.”

  “And you have no reason to like me. Sometimes, when there's no obvious solution to a problem, it's best to ignore it.”

  She turned her body so she could more easily face him. “How can we do that?”

  “We can pretend we just met and are getting to know each other.”

  Her solemn expression softened and a corner of her mouth twitched upward. “Don't you think it's improper for two people who've just met to be so informally dressed?”

  He made a point of overlapping the sides of his robe as he crossed his legs and leaned back. “Not a bit. We're both completely covered. Now, tell me about your life in the country, Miss Crump.”