Chapter Fourteen
Claire, shrouded in a fog of unreality, recalled little of the carriage ride home. The countess held her hand and babbled soothing nonsense, trying to offer comfort. Lord Berkley fidgeted nervously, asking her continually if she was all right, and then repeatedly calling out to the driver to hurry.
The familiar sight of the brightly lit mansion nearly had Claire in tears, so anxious was she to be inside the security of its strong stone walls, and safely enfolded in her husband’s arms.
A footman stepped forward to assist her from the carriage. Claire nodded her thanks and concentrated fully on subduing her chattering teeth and keeping herself upright on her very unsteady legs. It seemed grossly ironic that the most difficult part of her ordeal should occur now, well after the danger had passed.
With the countess and Lord Berkley flanking her on either side, they entered the drawing room. Claire found herself moving quickly toward the tall, broad-shouldered man standing near the fireplace.
“Jasper,” she whispered.
The man turned and, for an instant, Claire was so overwhelmed by surprise and disbelief she was speechless.
“Claire, good God, what has happened? You are as pale as a ghost.”
It was not her husband that stood in front of her, yet the sound of that dear, familiar voice broke Claire’s resolve to contain her emotions. She hiccuped a sob and started to move.
“Oh, Jay, is it really you?” Ignoring the others in the room, Claire launched herself into his arms. “I am so glad to see you.”
“You are?” Jason smiled. His arms closed around her, and Claire snuggled closer to the safety of his strength. “What a relief to discover you are not furious with me,” he continued, “I never expected such a warm reception. I thought you’d want to plant your fist on my face, just like my brother.”
Claire pulled back and examined Jay’s face carefully, noticing for the first time the swelling around his nose and the bruising under his eyes.
“Jasper did that to you?”
Jay’s smile faded. “It was a cheap shot. He caught me unawares. First he embraced me in a welcoming hug; then when my guard was down, he punched me in the nose.”
“Jasper is at home? Where is he? Has he already retired to his bedchamber?”
“I am right here, waiting to see how long it takes you to remember which brother is your rightful and legal husband.”
Claire turned. Lord Fairhurst’s jaw was set, his expression disapproving. He was glaring at her and glowering at Jay. Oddly, these emotions made him appear far more human, almost vulnerable.
“Would you be so kind, brother, as to remove my wife from your embrace?” Jasper asked in a clipped, stiff tone. “Immediately.”
Jason, ever the rebel, ignored the request. Claire darted a quick glance at her husband. His expression was still tight and granite-jawed. She opened her mouth to try and smooth over the tension, but her mother-in-law spoke first.
“I am afraid you will have to save your jealousy for another time, Jasper,” the countess lectured as she touched her son on the arm, signaling him to pay attention. “Claire has had the most horrific experience. Less than an hour ago she was nearly killed, practically trampled to death in front of the theater by a runaway coach.”
Hearing the words spoken aloud brought on a rush of frightening memories for Claire. She felt her knees weaken, but she was glad her mother-in-law had explained the situation.
“Are you certain you are unharmed?” Jay asked in a deeply concerned voice, as he tightened the reassuring arm he continued to hold around Claire’s shoulders.
“I confess to being a bit shaken up, but otherwise I am fine,” Claire said with a tighter voice than she wished.
She risked another quick glance at her glowering husband, prepared to encounter a mask of aggravation, but instead he appeared gravely concerned. Her throat ached at his genuine distress, and for one mad impulsive moment, she wanted to throw off Jay’s arm and launch herself at Jasper.
But the stoic Lord Fairhurst also looked vastly unapproachable, and her shredded nerves could not take the pain of a possible rejection.
Lord Berkley took the men aside, presumably to relate a less emotional accounting of the tale. But within moments, Claire saw the older gentleman pull a handkerchief from his pocket and wipe the sweat from his brow. His complexion was ashen, and his hands were visibly shaking.
Claire tried to ignore their whisperings. The butler solicitously left a tray of filled brandy snifters. For a moment, Claire was tempted to drown her fears with the expensive liquor, but she felt a headache forming behind her eyes and knew the strong spirits would only worsen the pain.
Instead, Claire collapsed on the settee. After downing one of the goblets of brandy, the countess took the seat beside her. The women waited in silence for the men to return.
Claire stood the moment the gentlemen approached, moving from foot to foot to ease her discomfort. The countess rose with her, squeezing her hand in support.
The earl cleared his throat. “Well, it certainly sounds like it was a nasty accident, but fortunately it all worked out in the end. We would like to personally extend our thanks to the gallant gentleman whose quick reflexes and bravery saved you from being injured, though I suppose in all the confusion no one thought to ask the fellow’s name.”
Claire hesitated. The last thing she wanted was more drama, but the full truth had to be revealed. “I know the man who came to my aid.”
The countess’s neatly arched eyebrows shot up. “You do?”
The skin between Claire’s shoulder blades began to twitch. Knowing there was no easy way to phrase her response, she simply blurted it out. “The gentleman who pulled me out of the path of the coach was Squire Dorchester.”
“What?”
The exclamation had come from Jay, but Claire barely concerned herself with his reaction. She stole a sideways glance at Lord Fairhurst.
Jasper’s gaze darkened. The news seemed to affect him physically. His hands clenched and unclenched, and he breathed shakily as his anger exploded.
“At breakfast, less than twelve hours ago, I told you to be careful and avoid the odious squire,” he said furiously.
Claire felt the sting of his words shake her already rattled composure. She gazed at him in disbelief. She had expected his anger but had not anticipated that he would tell her it was her fault. Did he truly think she had courted the squire’s attention?
Claire had always hated confrontations, especially those enacted before an audience. She gritted her teeth together, refusing to speak another word.
“Who is Squire Dorchester?” the earl asked.
All eyes turned to survey Claire. She stirred restlessly, yet gave no answer. The ever gallant Jay came to her rescue.
“The squire is a neighbor of Claire’s, and I have long held suspicions about his true character.”
It took little encouragement for Jay to elaborate on his opinion of the squire. As they were all trying to comprehend the magnitude of the incident and the implications of the squire’s involvement, Claire slipped away from the group. The countess soon followed.
“You need some rest, my dear,” the countess declared. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss on Claire’s forehead. “Go up to bed. I’m sure that everything will seem far better in the morning.”
Touched by her obvious concern, Claire managed a melancholy smile. Though she put up a brave front, there were lines of worry etched on the countess’s face that made Claire even more jittery. Maybe time alone, snuggled in her bed, would help contain the fear that still held her in a tight grip.
With the men otherwise occupied, it seemed like a good time to escape. Unnoticed, Claire left the room and climbed the stairs slowly, wishing she felt as certain as her mother-in-law that all would be fine.
A half hour later, Lord Fairhurst left the drawing room. Exhausted, yet knowing he would get no sleep even if he tried, Jasper stepped onto the third floor of the mansion and moved toward his wife’s bedchamber. Though he had seen with his own eyes that she was physically unharmed, he needed to speak with her for a moment to make certain.
Claire was partially undressed when he entered the room. His eyes quickly scanned the corners for her maid, but he soon realized Claire was alone.
“Goodness, Jasper, you startled me.”
Claire’s eyebrows drew together in a frown. She was in the process of removing her stocking. One of her legs was already bare. Leaving the wisp of silk on her other leg, she stood erect, allowing her chemise to cover the limb.
Jasper bowed. “I apologize for the intrusion, but I require a few moments of your time.”
She let out a dejected sigh. “If you have come to lecture me on my inappropriate behavior toward Jay or my lack of sense regarding Squire Dorchester, I must insist that you wait until tomorrow. I fear my nerves truly cannot sustain anymore of your husbandly concern tonight.”
Her voice was weary with bitterness. Jasper was not quite sure how to respond, especially since he did, indeed, wish to speak about both matters. A wave of guilt crashed over him.
Damn his emotions! If jealousy had not consumed him the instant he saw Claire in his brother’s arms, he would have been able to properly comfort his wife. Instead, he acted like a prized fool, condemning her of things he knew she was not capable of doing and increasing her distress tenfold. Though he knew he had sounded like a spiteful child, he had been unable to contain his tongue or his actions.
Jasper turned to leave, then stopped. His conscience gnawed at him, urging him to say what truly needed to be stated, even if Claire was still too upset to forgive him.
“My behavior earlier this evening was inexcusable. I can offer no explanation for treating you so shabbily, but hope you will, in time, be able to accept my apology.”
His words were uttered in a stiff, jerky manner. This was harder than he thought. Claire was watching him with confusion and a hint of suspicion. He turned away, raking his hand through his hair.
“Wait!”
Her voice was strangled with surprise. Instinctively, Jasper obeyed the command. He turned to look at his wife, moving closer to the glowing fire so he could see her face. She was staring at him in what might be considered fascination.
“Why did you punch your brother?”
Her question caught him off guard. But maybe that was exactly what he needed. Maybe if he explained the depths of his fiery emotions, she would understand the necessity of keeping them firmly under control.
“I have been angry at Jason for so long, I can hardly cite a single reason for reacting so violently to his sudden appearance.”
“Did your anger then extend to me when you saw me greet Jay with an affectionate hug?”
Jasper crossed his arms over his chest. “I did not see you greet him. I arrived to discover you locked in an intimate embrace.”
“Intimate? With a room full of relatives?” She clucked her tongue. “That was hardly the situation. Though I suppose if one were very cynical and jaded, it might have looked improper.”
“It did.”
Claire flushed. “You were completely wrong in your assessment of the situation. From the moment I arrived home tonight, my thoughts were centered on finding you. I ran to Jay, thinking I was running to you.” She came toward him, standing so close he could see the sparkle of firelight in the depths of her eyes. “I was looking for you, Jasper. I wanted you.”
Jasper felt the muscle in his jaw tighten. The one thing he disliked more than dealing with his naturally high-spirited emotions was discussing them. But Claire deserved to know the truth.
“I was racked with guilt because I was not there to protect you from danger. And I was not only angry, Claire, I was consumed with jealousy at the sight of you so comfortably enfolded in my brother’s arms.”
Claire sighed. “I have told you repeatedly that Jay is nothing more than a dear friend. That has not changed.”
“Logically, I can accept that as the truth. Emotionally, it has proven to be a far more difficult adjustment.”
For a long moment, she stared into his eyes. The cloud of weariness that appeared in her face earlier gradually lifted and was replaced by a look of sheer wonder. “It brings me great happiness to learn that you care so much about me, Jasper.”
Her words were like a sharp knife cutting across his flesh. Like most women, Claire viewed this as something positive and wondrous. But it was not. This type of passionate emotion was dangerous and needed to be harnessed and controlled.
“You did not appear very happy in the drawing room,” Jasper said, his mind filled with the memory of her anguished face.
“I was upset from my ordeal.”
“And I made you feel worse. My jealous nature caused my disgraceful behavior. I hurt you, Claire, and that is truly the last thing you deserved.” Jasper took a short breath, trying to rid himself of the sick feeling squeezing his heart. “I know that there are many people, including members of my own family, who think that I am cold and controlling. And they are correct. I deliberately distance myself from everyone. I strive each day to keep my passions and emotions under strict control, or else these feelings will overrun my common sense and sense of decency, and others will suffer because of my weakness.”
There was a slight hesitation before she asked, “Was it an honest reaction?”
“My jealousy?” He frowned. “It was immature and undisciplined.”
“Yes, but it was also an honest expression of your feelings,” she replied breathlessly.
He shook his head. She did not understand. “That level of intense emotion will ultimately prove to be a destructive force.”
“Oh, Jasper, is that truly what you think?”
To his ears, her voice sounded ragged and desolate, yet inexplicably she was smiling.
“Claire—”
She pressed her fingers to his lips. “Would you kiss me? Please?”
Jasper hesitated. Sex was not the answer. It would only confuse the issue. But she was regarding him with such open delight, it seemed cruel to deny her a simple kiss.
Jasper’s mouth descended to hers. Her lips were soft and sweet, moving in a welcoming, knowing response. He knew if he pressed deeper, he would find the hunger, simmering and soft, within her. Tantalizing her with his lips and tongue, he allowed her one firm, long, satisfying kiss.
A kiss that set his aroused body aching.
Keeping an iron band around the passion he was feeling, Jasper broke the kiss; then he pressed his lips to the exposed curve of her neck. With a sigh, he drew Claire’s head down to rest on his shoulder. She breathed contentedly and feathered several light kisses along the underside of his jaw.
Another sigh of pleasure escaped from his lips. Though he knew he shouldn’t, he liked how she needed to kiss him, needed to stay close to him. Her gentle caress made his flesh feel as if it were alive with sensation and need, and the low, ragged sound in her throat made his senses quiver and heat.
He looked down. The top laces of Claire’s chemise were loosened, and the curve of her breast moved as her unsteady breathing continued. Trying to distract himself from that beguiling sight, Jasper slowly smoothed her unbound hair, enjoying the velvety feel of it against his skin, the way it ran through his fingers like fine silken threads.
She snuggled closer. Jasper placed his hand on Claire’s shoulder, slid it down her arm, and gently enfolded her left hand with his.
Claire stood perfectly still. He lifted their joined hands and studied how well they fit together.
“I am very glad that you are my husband, Jasper.”
He tried to control the wave of emotion that swept through him. At times he had not been the best of husbands and they both knew it. But, obviously, Claire was willing to forgive and forget his past mistakes. It was an equally humbling and frightening thought.
“It is amazing to me that you continue to believe in me, in the strength of our future together,” he remarked as he brought her hand to his mouth, brushing his parted lips over her soft knuckles.
She smiled. “You are a good man, Jasper. You have a level head, a deep sense of honor, and a true heart. All you lack is the confidence to trust those instincts.”
Was she right? Could he really experience the depths of his emotions without losing control of himself?
“We Barrington males are an eccentric, wild lot,” he said. “I fully expect to be the one that will finally succeed in breaking that unacceptable pattern.”
“There is nothing wrong with being different.”
“True, but there is something very wrong about being destructive.”
Claire sighed deeply. “Jasper, your emotions are not destructive. You are confusing the indiscretions of your youth with the qualities of your personality. I have no doubt that you were once restless and aimless, as well as careless and cynical. But those traits are barely evident. You have matured into a fine man, who at his core is devoted to his family and his honor. I only wish that you would allow your heart its freedom, too.”
His heart? Did she actually believe that he had one? The dinner he had shared with his father several hours ago rumbled uneasily in his stomach, while a nagging voice in his head shouted at him to turn around and flee. Yet, somehow, Jasper held his position.
He looked down at his wife. Her gaze was steady and inscrutable. “So, you are interested in my heart?” he asked.
“Very much.” She lifted her shoulders in a tiny shrug. “I will confess that my reasons are rather selfish. You see, I have fallen in love with you and would like very much for you to one day reciprocate my feelings.”
“In love?”
She nodded. The lump of emotion clogging his throat swelled. Jasper tried to swallow past it, but could barely get his throat muscles to cooperate.
He tried to think of mundane things to distance himself from the moment, but his heart and inner will would not allow it. He settled into his thoughts and let the possibilities slip into his mind.
He dreamed of companionship with Claire that included physical fulfillment and joy, that allowed him to let his pure and intense emotions to reign free, that allowed him to return her regard and affection and love with every bit of his soul.
It was something he had never believed possible for himself, so he had never wished for it, never contemplated it. Yet, as he examined all the facets of this incredible opportunity, Jasper realized it was what he truly wanted.
Maybe he had been too rigid in his thinking. Maybe it was possible to experience the emotions without allowing them to completely overcome him. Claire certainly trusted him enough to believe it was possible.
He tightened his jaw. “I do not believe I can change my attitudes and behavior overnight. You will have to be patient with me.”
She stared at him a long moment, as if not quite understanding him. “Patient?”
“I promise it shall be worth the wait,” he said quietly.
She went perfectly still. Even her breathing became inaudible. “I always knew that it would be,” she finally answered, pulling her hand free and smoothing it across his chest. “I love you, Jasper.”
His eyes locked with hers. She raised herself up on her toes and waited, an expectant look on her face.
Her declaration jolted him in a way he had not expected. Over the years there had been other women who had spoken those very same words, much to his discomfort. But hearing Claire state her feelings caused a different reaction.
I love you, too. The words welled in his chest, pushed up to his throat, and settled on his tongue. But he could not utter them. A part of him wanted to return the declaration, but it was too new, too fresh in his mind and heart.
So, instead, he decided to show her—to say with his body what was in his heart. Bending his head, Jasper touched his lips to hers. Eyes closed, he savored the taste of her sweetness, while his tongue tempted and seduced.
He ran his hand down her body, skimming the curves and hollows of her luscious flesh, following the ridge of her hipbone, and turning finally to the inside of her thighs. “You are trembling,” he whispered.
“Because of you.”
She leaned her forehead against his chest. Her hair felt silky and soft beneath his chin. He inhaled deeply. The enveloping scent of her skin sent the hunger twisting sharply through him.
Reaching down, Jasper gathered the cloth at her thigh in his fist, then pulled Claire’s chemise up and over her head. It stuck momentarily around the swell of her breasts, but the laces had been loosened enough that with a few persistent tugs, it broke free.
One of her silk stockings remained in place, clinging seductively to her shapely leg at mid-thigh. He took a moment to drink in the sight of her looking so wickedly sexy, naked except for the scrap of glimmering fabric on her leg.
She lifted her foot playfully so he could remove it. He willingly complied, then dropped slowly to his knees. His hands slid down her hips, around her body, and closed possessively over her bare bottom.
Taking a firm hold, he kneaded the tender flesh for a moment, then pulled her hips forward. Her musky scent ignited his senses. Her body was pulsing hotly; her delicate flesh pink and moist and waiting for his mouth.
Though the position he assumed made his erection ache with longing, Jasper ignored his own needs and concentrated solely on Claire’s pleasure. His time would come soon enough. First, he wanted Claire to experience perfect bliss.
Boldly, he reached through the tangle of soft curls at the apex of her thighs with the tip of his tongue, lovingly stroking the soft, sweet flesh they concealed.
“Jasper!” Claire gasped, trying to pull away from his kiss.
He would not allow her. He locked one arm firmly beneath the cheeks of her bottom and supported her, holding her steady and in place while his tongue stroked and probed and lapped at her softness.
He heard her breath catch sharply, then for one moment she stopped breathing entirely. Easing her thighs wider, Jasper continued his assault, exploring the swollen folds between her thighs with delicate reverence.
Each time he felt she was on the brink of release, he would ease back, kiss the edge of her stomach, lick the top of her thighs, flick his tongue in a trail of fire down the inside of her leg. Then, once she was calm, he would start again, setting his tongue against her sweet pearl, teasing and tantalizing her, building the tension and need until the passion once again claimed her.
Her hips twisted and tilted, her fingers dug into his hair and clung tightly to his skull, and still Jasper tasted and teased, nudging Claire to greater and greater heights of pleasure. He heard her panting his name; then she made a sound that was shattered delight.
Jasper sighed with satisfaction and continued to suckle and lave her delicate flesh until Claire cried out again, sobbing in the intensity of her second climax.
He savored her contractions, speaking sweet words of nonsense as they eased. As if her legs could no longer support her, Claire slowly sank to the floor, collapsing against him. Jasper pulled her close, cradling her within the circle of his arms.
It was a wild, erotic feeling to be holding a naked woman while he remained fully clothed. Her skin, still in the last flush of desire, was flawless, her auburn hair, thick, wavy, and unbound, fell across their bodies like a soft blanket. She tilted her head and looked up at his lips, ran her tongue across her own, then met his eyes.
“Now will you bed me?” she asked.
Her face was soft and glowing; her breathing unsteady. She lifted her arm and her hand touched his cheek. Jasper knew in that moment he would deny her nothing that was within his power to give her, including his heart.
“I shall bed you with great pleasure, my lady.”
Jasper had never been with a woman he wanted more, had never experienced this strange combination of excessive lust mingled with intense protection.
The bed seemed a long distance away, but he owed her the comfort of a soft mattress, the civility of clean, crisp sheets. He stood, then reached down and lifted her from the floor.
As he walked across the chamber, Claire twined her arms around his neck and began nibbling on his earlobe. It sent a driving beat of blood pulsing through his veins.
Depositing her in the center of the large bed, Jasper pulled away and divested himself of his boots, coat, waistcoat, and cravat. As he reached for the buttons on his shirt, he caught Claire’s sultry smile.
“What is so amusing?”
“You.” She shifted until she was on her knees, facing him. “You are taking off your garments so calmly and precisely, like a very proper English lord. I half expect to see your valet appear at any moment to remove the items and return them within the hour, freshly laundered and perfectly pressed.”
Jasper frowned, then glanced over at the neatly folded pile of clothes he had stacked on the chair. Stepping back, he swiftly yanked off his trousers, ripped off his shirt, and then tossed both garments on the floor.
“Is that better?”
“Infinitely.”
Laughing, Jasper fell on the bed, reaching eagerly for his wife. She arched toward him, thrusting out her glorious breasts. Desire, hot and immediate, sizzled through him. He let his hands roam freely, his palm covering one full breast. “You are mine.”
“I am. And you belong to me.”
As if to prove her words, she closed her fingers around his length and pulled on his cock. Her fingers were warm, her palms soft. Jasper thrust eagerly into her hand, his penis thickening and growing larger with each stroke.
He reached for her, but Claire shifted away. With a mysterious smile on her face, she bent her head. Jasper hissed in a breath of shock when he felt her breath caress his aching hardness. She still held him tightly in one hand and stroked him lovingly, gliding up and down with her closed fist.
Then, suddenly, her tongue followed her hand, gliding, licking, and laving him from the base to the head. Once she completed this act several times, Claire slipped her lips around the head of his erect penis, took him full into her mouth, and sucked.
“Claire!” Astonishment laced his voice, but the onslaught of intense pleasure rendered any additional speech impossible.
His fingers curled through her hair and spasmed on her head. Sweat broke out on his forehead. He clenched his teeth in pleasure. She used her lips to alternate the pressure and her tongue to circle his most sensitive areas again and again.
At the moment when he felt he would come apart under the exquisite, agonizing pleasure of her ministrations, Jasper grabbed her shoulders and lifted her away.
Her hooded, sexy eyes met his gaze. “Why did you make me stop? I was starting to truly enjoy it.”
Jasper shuddered with the effort of holding back his climax. She was killing him with her beguiling sexuality, her lustful experimentation, and open, honest passion.
“If you continue, then I won’t be able to do this,” he replied hoarsely.
He flipped her onto her back, spread her thighs wide, and entered her in one smooth thrust. She groaned. Jasper stilled instantly, fearing he had been too rough, but then she grasped his hips and tugged. Smiling, he propped himself on his elbows. He framed his hands around her face, holding it close so he could kiss her.
As their lips and tongues met, Jasper felt her long, luscious legs wrap around his hips, and he knew that she was more than ready for him to ride them both to ecstasy. He rocked his hips forward, concentrating on applying pressure to her most sensitive area.
Small moans sounded deep in her throat as she moved with him. The tight heat of her womanhood stole his breath as he gave into the sweet ache that shot through his entire body.
Jasper pressed a hand beneath Claire’s hip and tilted her up to meet his next thrust. Harder and faster, he withdrew and thrust again, reaching with each surge for the pinnacle of ultimate bliss.
He quickly lost all sense of time and place and control. The communication between them was complete, yet it required no words or phrases. It was pure sensation, pure emotion, pure love.
Their bodies tensed at the same moment. They clung to each other in the inferno of passion, gasping and breathless, their senses merged, and their hearts thundering in perfect rhythm.
Jasper closed his eyes and drifted; then he lowered his head, pressing his face against Claire’s throat. The stiffness that had surrounded his heart for years slid away, leaving him with a sense of peace and contentment.
A few minutes later, he left the bed to extinguish the candles and lock the bedchamber door. He wanted total privacy for the rest of the night and the morning.
Claire was nearly asleep when he spooned himself around her back, drawing her closer to his warm body. Closing his eyes, he contemplated the power that was growing between them—the appreciation of each other’s unique qualities, the admiration for each other’s strengths, and the understanding and acceptance of each other’s weaknesses.
So this, he thought, is love. How very extraordinary.