Captain Durant's Countess

chapter 13


Maris had wanted to remain clothed, but had been overruled. Oddly enough, she was still wearing her garters, stockings, and one shoe. The rest of her clothes—the cap, the pinafore, the sensible brown dress, her petticoat, corset, and chemise—had been removed layer by layer.

Reynold Durant had proved very efficient in her undressing, folding each item with the precision of the best lady’s maid, whispering over her skin until she thought she would burst with impatience. Then there had been slow kisses. Everywhere. He had repeated what he’d done on the work table, but she had been sprawled in comfort on the chaise, dazed and drenched as he licked her as if she were the tastiest sweet.

He had capped that delicious assault with a blissful, blunt entry into her body, resulting in a particularly effervescent kick on her part that resulted in the loss of the other shoe. Losing her footwear around the man was becoming a dangerous habit.

Losing her wits, as well. He had made her press her own fingers between them to stroke herself to sharp bliss as he surged inside her.

Maris was still beneath him, heart beating erratically. She could not imagine going back to the table and working. Pretending all was normal. Reynold Durant had ignited something inside her she hadn’t known existed.

She’d received some pleasure in the past, and had been curious about receiving more. Hence her miserable affair with David. But she really hadn’t had a clue.

She wasn’t about to embark on a sonnet, for this wasn’t love. However, she liked Captain Durant—Reyn, she reminded herself— very much. He had a sense of humor at work and was unfailingly solicitous of her when he joined with her at play. Maris felt treasured for the first time in her life. Henry had always been indulgent, more like a father than a lover, though she knew he cared for her as much as he was able. David had simply used her for his own amusement—to thumb his nose at his uncle and line his pockets with Maris’s pin money.

Perhaps if she gave him the emerald he would leave her alone for good.

“What is it? That was not a sigh of satisfaction. Are you well?” Reyn lifted himself up and stared down at her, and Maris missed his warmth immediately.

The puckered starburst on his shoulder caught her attention and she touched it lightly. “You say this hurts when it rains?”

“And snows. You’re changing the subject. What’s wrong? I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

Maris felt the heat in her cheeks. He had been splendidly rough. And gentle too. “You were perfect. Must I praise your performance like a schoolmistress? You must know you are the schoolmaster here.”

Reyn grinned. “It never does a fellow any harm to hear how content he’s made his lady.”

“I am content. Content as I can be under the circumstances.”

“That’s all right, then.” He rolled to the wall and took Maris with him. She found herself snuggling against him, an entirely unfamiliar, yet cozy, position. It was what most post-coupling couples did, wasn’t it? She felt no urgency whatever to jump off the chaise and get dressed and go back to the mountain of boxes. In fact, she didn’t believe she could stand up at the moment.

“So what was that somber sigh about?”

“You never give up, do you?”

“Oh, I’ve given up on any number of things. Just ask the real schoolmasters. Solving problems is not my forte. I’ll make an exception for you, though.” He kissed her nose. How absurd. But it was rather sweet all the same.

“I don’t want to spoil what we have between us right now. It doesn’t matter.”

He pulled her closer. “Now, you’ve done it. My sister Ginny has a terrier, did I tell you? His name is Rufus. He has a typical terrier’s tenacity, but the dog cannot hold a candle to me when it comes to ferreting out secrets.”

“Can a dog actually ferret? That doesn’t seem right. They are two different species, surely.” How silly she was being, but there was something about talking to this man that called for levity.

“Don’t confound this conversation with science. I might get bored to death and then you’d have to dispose of my body in one of those trunks.”

“I don’t think I could manage it. You are far too . . . large.”

He gave her a naughty wink. “Said the girl to the soldier. Thank you, madam.”

“Oh! I was referring to your height, you wretched man.”

He was still large, even in repose. From a purely artistic standpoint, Reynold Durant was exquisitely sculpted.

“So, tell me what is wrong. Perhaps I can help.”

“There’s nothing wrong. I was just breathing. Did you find my slippers? I could not find them in the dark last night.”

“Ah, yes. I should have told you and saved you some worry. I hid them in my saddlebag. None of the servants will be the wiser. I should tell you, I’m not used to such coddling. A veritable parade of footmen and maids came in this morning with breakfast and oceans of hot water and fresh sheets. I’ll be spoiled before this is over. Ruined for my humdrum life.”

Maris was afraid he was ruining her too. She disentangled herself from his arms and felt her hairpins slip down her back as she sat up. “Bother.”

Reyn caught a curl as it tumbled from her brow. “You have lovely hair.”

“It’s nothing special, just brown.”

“It’s soft. And smells like roses.” He tucked the loose strand of hair behind her ear.

She would have to remember to bring up a brush and comb to the attics so she could make herself presentable after their interludes. Maris supposed some disorder was inevitable moving and unpacking boxes, but she suspected her recent activities would be plain to anyone who had two eyes.

She felt hot.

She felt happy.

“You’d better help me dress. It must be time for luncheon.” She swung her feet to the chilly floor and reached for her chemise. “You can ring for something to eat from your room. I’ll meet you back up here in two hours so we can work a little while longer before we finish for the day. The light won’t hold forever.” She pulled the chemise over her head and struggled with the buttons.

Reyn noticed, then took over the job. Somehow he got his own large hands to behave over the tiny bits of bone and fabric far better than she. “Will you be joining the earl?”

“Oh, no. He takes a tray in the library so he can write and read and eat. He’s very devoted to his work.” She had better luck with the strings of her front-lacing corset and the petticoat tapes.

“That must be lonely for you.”

“Well, that’s one reason I’ve helped him all these years, otherwise I’d never get to see him,” Maris admitted. It had been a grand adventure accompanying him to digs, but organizing and writing about their discoveries was much less stimulating.

“Why can’t we follow suit and have some food sent up here?” Reyn asked.

“I’ve told the servants not to disturb us, and I don’t want to take the chance they’ll find out what’s going on. Look at me!”

“I am. And I quite like what I see.”

Maris waved him away. “You needn’t stoop to flattery. My hair is a nest.”

“Let me fix it for you. Put your dress on and let me get to work as your maid.”

She really didn’t have much choice. There was no mirror except a shattered one in a fine gilt frame three rooms over. Another thing to tote upstairs with a brush and comb.

Reyn gathered up the fallen pins amongst the pillows and made her sit at the worktable. And then he did an extraordinary thing. He rubbed her head, slipping firm fingers through her loose hair, pressing onto her scalp in hypnotic motion. For a minute Maris wondered if he might make even more of a tangle of her hair, but the head massage was so wonderful she held her tongue. The tension she felt now that she was no longer prone in his arms disappeared and she felt the coiled springs along her spine relax.

He seemed to know it, dropping a light kiss below her left ear. Then he got busy braiding and pinning.

“It is with the greatest reluctance that I’m giving you this abomination,” Reyn said, handing her the cap. “Why do women wear such things? You can’t imagine men like them. You might as well be wearing a nappy on your head.”

Maris shrugged as she tied it under her chin. She wasn’t sure why caps were the custom. Perhaps that was something she could research in the future. There were biblical admonitions to cover one’s head, and Maris supposed fashion could stem from fear of God as well as anything else.

She wasn’t much for fashion, wasn’t even wearing one of her new dresses. Maris felt a little silly thinking they had been a necessary purchase to make her more palatable to Captain Durant. He seemed to like her just fine as she was.

Did it matter what he thought of her? He said he wanted to be friends, and they seemed to have reached some sort of understanding. At least enough for him to make his job look close enough to pleasure.

She hadn’t closed her eyes, but he had, as she’d asked him to that first day. Reyn had been beautiful as he’d strained over her, each perfect, hard thrust accompanied by a near prayerful expression on his face.

If he’d opened his eyes and looked down, he would have caught her spying.

Those eyes were so dark. Penetrating. Maris was afraid he’d see inside her, know somehow the secrets she kept. She imagined he didn’t have to terrier or ferret much. Something about the man made confession almost inevitable.

“You look very respectable, madam.” He began to step into his own clothes with a fluid grace Maris would never manage. “Well then, I propose we share a lunch. Not in that gilded barn you call a dining room of course. I expect Kelby Hall has something more modest—a third or fourth best dining room as it were.”

Maris imagined sitting opposite him in the cozy paneled room where she usually took her daytime meals, sunlight shafting through the windows. Despite its relative informality, there were always footmen about, waiting to jump at her every word. “I-I don’t think that would be wise. We don’t want to engender talk amongst the servants.”

“Don’t you think I can keep my hands to myself? I swear I won’t give you one longing look of lust in public. None of this.” He made a face at her, which was a close approximation of a sleek, worshipful hound.

She smiled in spite of herself. “Maybe I worry about what I might do.”

“Nonsense. You’ll chew your food and pass the peas and be the perfect countess.”

He didn’t know her at all. For one thing, she loathed peas. “Oh, Reyn. I’ve never been a perfect countess. I just don’t think Henry would approve of us eating together.” She caught the look on his face and hurried on. “I know it seems absurd after what we’ve just done. What we’ll do again. The . . . the intimacy. But he was specific about you dining in your suite.”

Reyn looked more annoyed than hurt, but nodded. “All right. I’ll meet you back here at two-thirty. I don’t need two hours to eat lunch, you know.”

“The servants will require the time to prepare and deliver your meal. Cook is very particular.”

“Some bread and cheese and a pickle or two are just fine. I’ve marched on much less.” He was dressed, and did not look as rumpled as she felt.

“Ask for anything you want.”

“I don’t think I can have what I want,” Reyn said quietly, and disappeared through the door.

Maris swallowed. Blast. He hadn’t said the last sentence with any kind of teasing flirtatiousness.

She was not prepared for the man to become serious. Maris was thinking enough for the both of them. Reyn was much easier to deal with when he was playing the boyish ne’er-do-well without a thought in his head.

She reached into her pocket for a handkerchief to blot any trace of his kisses away and came upon the emerald. Hard to believe she could have forgotten about such an amazing find, but she had. Reyn had swept her mind free of everything but the scent of his skin and the sureness of his touch.

What was she to do with the thing? It must be ridiculously valuable. She would put it in her safe before she went down to eat.

Alone.