More than Passion Page 8

  Countess. Again the reality of her new role struck her. “I’ll gladly wait.”

  He rubbed her shoulders, then her arms. “Why don’t you get dressed and we’ll go down to the dining room?”

  “I can’t get dressed if you keep untying my stays.” She grabbed his hands to still them.

  “Hmm?” he mumbled against her throat.

  “Geoffrey!”

  With an exaggerated sigh, he left her to get dressed.

  * * * *

  That afternoon, while Geoffrey attended to business on the estate, Becca and Lady Margaret shared tea in the parlor.

  “Rebecca,” she asked when they were nearly finished, “would you like to see more of the house?”

  “I would indeed, but would you accompany me? I’m afraid I might get hopelessly lost.”

  The older woman laughed. “My son would never forgive me if I lost his wife.”

  Becca smiled at Lady Margaret and followed her through the main floor of the house. They toured the salon, the sitting rooms, and the grand ballroom.

  “When the Season is over, we’ll host a ball to celebrate your nuptials,” Lady Margaret said.

  “Will you help me? Geoffrey said how gifted you are with such arrangements.”

  The lady’s eyes sparkled. “Certainly. I can’t think of anything more pleasurable.” She waved Becca ahead of her out of the ballroom. “Let’s go abovestairs.”

  As they ascended the grand staircase, Lady Margaret informed Becca of the history of some of the past residents of the house. Her eyes misted a bit as she spoke of her late husband and Becca’s affection for the woman grew.

  When they reached the top of the staircase, Lady Margaret waved in the direction of the main hallway. “The guest rooms are here.”

  Becca glanced farther down the hallway toward her and Geoffrey’s chambers. She’d explored that part of the house, finding Geoffrey’s study, a small reading room and a sitting room. “I’m a bit familiar with Geoffrey’s rooms.”

  “They are your rooms too, dear.” Lady Margaret led her in the opposite direction. “John and Patricia’s rooms are at the far end of this hallway. The nursery is set abovestairs. Would you like to meet my granddaughter?”

  “I would love to.”

  The nursery abovestairs was bright and airy. The child’s nanny was present when they arrived, a gray-haired woman with warm brown eyes and a kind expression.

  She greeted Lady Margaret and Becca with a curtsy. “Good afternoon, my lady. Lady Kanewood.”

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Riley,” Lady Margaret said. “Is Ann awake?”

  “Yes, my lady. She awoke from her nap just a short while ago. She’s in the playroom.”

  They proceeded to the playroom and found the little blond-haired girl amid a pile of blocks. She didn’t notice them when they first walked in, so intent on the tiny tower she was trying to construct. She placed a block on top of her creation, which stood five blocks tall, and clapped her hands with glee.

  She turned then and noticed Lady Margaret. “Grandmother!” she squealed, a big grin on her face.

  Lady Margaret held her arms out to the little girl and Ann flew into them. She soon noticed Becca and stared at her with wide gray eyes.

  Becca crouched down to her level. “Hello.”

  “Ann, this is your Aunt Rebecca. She’s married to your Uncle Geoffrey.”

  Ann nodded solemnly, her gaze not leaving Becca’s face. Suddenly, her hand shot out, lightly stroking a curl near Becca’s cheek. “Pretty.”

  “Thank you,” Becca said.

  Ann grabbed Becca’s hand. “Come see my blocks.”

  Becca nodded and let the little girl lead her to the chaos on the floor.

  “I trust you can find your way back down, Rebecca?” Lady Margaret asked.

  “I’ll persevere.” She laughed. “Thank you for the tour.”

  “You’re quite welcome, dear. I’ll see you downstairs, then.”

  Becca passed a pleasant hour or so with the little girl, finally taking her own leave to ready herself for dinner. Ann made Becca promise to return to play another day. It was a promise Becca was happy to make. How she longed to remember something of her own mother, of her time at the inn before her death. Had they played and cuddled as she had with Ann?

  A memory teased her as she walked back to her room, as dusty and tattered as her mother’s wedding dress—her mother holding her close in the dark, whispering sweet words in her ear. For some reason, the recollection filled her with a chill. It was as if the words felt like a sad farewell.

  * * * *

  A few days passed and Becca’s fondness for both Kanewood and her mother-in-law grew. She made frequent visits to Ann in the nursery abovestairs. She so enjoyed playing with the little girl. It was a pity the child’s mother wasn’t at Kanewood. She knew what it was like to miss her own mother at that age. Once again, she felt the loss keenly. No child should have to experience such a thing. Being with Ann also spoke to a part of her she’d never dared dream about. A longing for her mother, yes. But also the yearning for a child of her own.

  What kind of father would Geoffrey be? Would he be like his own father—loving and caring, or like her father—distant and aloof? She wanted him to love their children as much as she would. But he hadn’t told her he loved her yet. Would this bode ill for building a family together?

  Geoffrey was very busy, and told her he wished to make up for time lost while he was waylaid at Raven’s. His occupation suited Becca on this particular day, as she had yet another fitting for her new wardrobe.

  She stood on the stool as before. As Lady Margaret looked on, Becca tried on a few of the nearly-complete gowns and dresses. Mary assisted her, having arrived at Kanewood the previous afternoon. She seemed to take to her position, assisting Becca with the dresses, careful of the many pins holding bits and pieces of them in place.

  The last fitting of the day was for the gown Becca would wear to their first ball in London. It was blush pink, the color nearly matching Becca’s skin tone. At first glance, she appeared to be wearing nothing at all. At second glance, however, one was aware of the daring bodice dipping low to reveal much more of her bosom than Becca was accustomed to. As the dressmaker stood back and admired her creation, Becca glanced in the cheval glass.

  “Lady Margaret, this dress is indecent!” She gasped.

  Lady Margaret smiled. “Indecent would be one word for it. I prefer ‘breathtaking.’”

  Becca looked into the mirror again. “What will Geoffrey say?”

  “I daresay he won’t be able to say a word, dear. I think it’s wise to keep my son on his toes, Rebecca. I predict you’ll take London by storm.”

  Becca just nodded. She wasn’t sure of that, but it was worth the inconvenience of these fittings to make certain she didn’t embarrass her husband or her mother-in-law.

  Lady Margaret escorted the dressmaker out of the chamber, leaving Mary to assist Becca out of the gorgeous gown.

  “Are you settling in, Mary?” Becca asked.

  “Oh, yes, my lady.” Mary carefully hung the gown with the others. She returned with a rose-colored dress, one of the gifts from Geoffrey.

  Becca stepped into the dress. “How are your quarters?”

  “Quite fine. Larger than at the Raven’s. And so many servants to talk to! It’s so very pleasant.”

  “I’m glad, Mary. I’m so pleased you’re here.”

  Mary nodded, twitching the curls at the nape of Becca’s neck. “Are you in need of anything else, my lady?”

  “I think not. I believe I’ll find my husband and—”

  “And what?” Geoffrey said.

  Mary bowed her head to them both and took her leave.

  Becca crossed to him. “Geoffrey.”

  Geoffrey kissed her and cupped her cheek. “Good afternoon, Becca.”

  “I missed you at lunch.”

  “I ate at one of the cottages.” He took her hands in his. “I have a surprise for you.”


  She noted the twinkle in his eyes, and smiled up at him. “I fear you will spoil me.”

  “Never, sweetheart. Come,” he urged. “It’s down at the stables.”

  “Stables?”

  He hurried her down the stairs, obviously intent on his surprise. They soon arrived at the stables, her breath coming fast. “Geoffrey,” she gasped, “what is it that we must hurry so?”

  “I simply couldn’t wait to see your beautiful face when you saw this.”

  He stopped in front of one of the stalls, waving his hand. Her horse from Raven’s stood inside, as content as if born there.

  “My filly!” she cried. “How did you do it?”

  “I had my driver retrieve the horse when he went back for Mary.”

  Becca cooed to the horse, stroking its shining mane.

  “I thought we could go riding tomorrow.”

  She turned to him. “Could we?”

  He gathered her in his arms. “Yes, love. I have the entire day free. I thought we could picnic?”

  She hugged him tight. “That would be wonderful.”

  Geoffrey tilted her chin and captured her lips with his. She parted them for him, reaching up behind his neck. His tongue swept into her mouth, firing their passion.

  “Ah, Becca.” He breathed raggedly.

  “Husband, we can’t.”

  He remembered himself and dragged his mouth back to her lips. He kissed her once and rested his forehead on hers.

  “I very nearly wrinkled another one of your pretty dresses, wife.”

  Becca sighed as he freed her from his grasp, brushing her hands over her skirt. Lord, the man could make her forget herself.

  He took her hand. “Let’s return to the house.”

  * * * *

  Meanwhile, Lady Margaret shared tea with her son John and his wife.

  “I didn’t expect you back from London so soon, John,” Lady Margaret said.

  “We grew tiresome with the company, I fear,” Patricia answered for her husband. The blonde, fashionably pale woman sat on the settee, her cup and saucer in her slender hands. “We trust you are in good health?”

  “Yes. We’ve had some excitement here at Kanewood,” Lady Margaret said.

  “Oh?” John stood at the window, which afforded a partial view of the stables. He narrowed his eyes at the couple emerging. “Who is that with the esteemed earl, Mother?”

  Lady Margaret stood and crossed to the window to stand beside John. “That, John, is the new Countess of Kanewood.”

  John blinked at her. “What?”

  Patricia stood and squeezed close to John to peer through the window. “Hmm.”

  “Your brother has taken a wife,” Lady Margaret said.

  John watched Geoffrey and Becca come up the path. Their hands were clasped, his head bent to hers as they strolled. His big brother’s smile was clear from where they stood. How interesting.

  “A wife?” Patricia asked. A frown marred her face. “Kane?”

  John simply stared. “She’s gorgeous.”

  Patricia snorted.

  A few moments later, Geoffrey strode into the parlor with Becca in tow. He stopped short at the sight of John and Patricia.

  “John.” He offered his hand in greeting. “We didn’t expect you back so soon.”

  John came forward and took it, smiling. “So Mother also said. Good to see you, Kane.”

  John looked at the girl beside him, running his gaze over her. Her hair was tousled, her cheeks flushed. And her figure! She was incredible.

  “And who is this lovely creature?” John asked.

  Geoffrey placed his arm around her shoulders in a show of possession. Wise man, his big brother. At long last he’s learned to keep his woman close.

  “This is Rebecca,” he stated. “My wife.” He turned to Becca. “Becca, let me introduce my brother, John, and his wife, Patricia.”

  “I’m very pleased to meet you,” Becca said, inclining her head.

  “Rebecca. Have you been in London this Season?” Patricia asked sharply. “Where did Geoffrey meet you?” She turned to Geoffrey. “Marriage, Kane? I never would have thought it of you.”

  Geoffrey’s eyes narrowed. He nodded curtly and turned back to his wife. “Sweetheart, let us ready for dinner.”

  With a nod to the company, Geoffrey led Becca from the room.

  “A wife.” Patricia sniffed.

  John went to the doorway of the parlor and watched Becca as she climbed the stairs beside his brother. “Indeed.”

  * * * *

  When they reached their rooms, Becca turned to Geoffrey. “You don’t care for them, do you?”

  He laughed, apparently at her choice of words. “No, love. Not overmuch.”

  “Why not?”

  A strange expression crossed his face, one of regret and discomfort. “I suppose you have the right to know the whole of it.” He obviously didn’t want to tell her. Had he been involved with Patricia before she married his brother?

  He sat in a chair beside the fireplace, pulling her down onto his lap. He told her all of it, from his engagement to Patricia to John’s betrayal. How could his brother do such a thing? And however could Patricia betray the man she’d promised to marry?

  “Did you … care for her, then?” She couldn’t bear to know that he’d loved her.

  “I thought I did.” He shot her a look of worry. “We were never intimate, love, if that was what you were wondering.”

  She had worried about that! To think he had shared his extraordinary passion with the cold Patricia was something she could not bear. She nodded, relief washing over her. She leaned on his shoulder. “I’m sorry they hurt you.”

  He smiled down at her. “I’m not, sweetheart. For if I had married her, I never would have found you.”

  She kissed him and settled back against him. Her heart clenched for what she’d almost lost with him.

  “Tell me again,” he said softly.

  “I ….”

  “I need to hear the words,” he insisted, nuzzling her throat.

  “I love you,” she admitted on a whisper.

  He did not say the words back to her. She hadn’t expected them, yet she longed for them just the same.

  They sat for a while, finally rousing themselves to get ready for dinner.

  Chapter 11

  Dinner was a tedious affair. Geoffrey barely spoke to his brother, keeping his attention turned to his lovely wife. He guessed Becca could feel the tension, and every so often, he caught Patricia staring at her with disdain. She might be of aristocratic birth, but she wasn’t lady enough to share a table with Becca in his opinion.

  “Where did Kane find you, Rebecca?” Patricia asked in a false-friendly tone.

  Becca began to answer, but Geoffrey was faster. “Rebecca’s father owns the inn where I waited out the repairs to my carriage.”

  “An innkeeper’s daughter?” Patricia snorted.

  “A serving wench?” John gazed at Becca hungrily. “How diverting.”

  “Hardly,” Geoffrey said angrily.

  Becca responded to Patricia’s insult. “The Raven’s Inn offers the finest dining and lodging from here to London. And my father owns it.”

  Geoffrey knew she could hold her own against a witch like Patricia. Lady Margaret nodded her approval, a small smile on her face. The remainder of the meal was without incident, or much conversation.

  After dinner, Geoffrey stood, excusing himself and his wife from the table. He bade the others goodnight, and led his wife upstairs.

  John and Patricia’s untimely arrival didn’t sit well with him. While he and Patricia hardly ever spoke, he’d always been on good terms with his brother. When the men were alone, they could ride and hunt and share a brandy together after a meal. Even John’s seduction of his fiancée, once a sufficient amount of time had passed, hadn’t hampered their relationship. He didn’t begrudge John his marriage to that grasping witch. She had shown her true colors when she’d hopped into b
ed with his brother. He realized that what he had felt for her was nothing. It wasn’t love. But that was before Becca … she was working her way deep inside of him.

  Becca gave him a sweet kiss and went into her dressing room to ready for bed. Geoffrey stripped off his clothes and climbed into the four-poster to wait for her, picturing her figure behind that door.

  He hadn’t missed the way his brother ogled her all through dinner. He’d wanted to smash his fist into John’s face, wiping away his lustful grin, the heat in his gray eyes. Perhaps he was overreacting. Perhaps he was overprotective where Becca was concerned. No matter. No other man would ever touch what was his and live to tell about it.

  And if that other man proved to be his own brother, so be it.

  * * * *

  As John drank his after-dinner brandy, Patricia’s mind worked. Lady Margaret hadn’t lingered long after her favorite quit their company. No deficit there. Kane married? To a commoner? Little Rebecca wouldn’t hamper her well-laid plans.

  Patricia had fully intended to wed Geoffrey four years earlier, but her attraction to John couldn’t be denied. While the elder Kane kissed her chastely, his younger brother ignited her passion. They would meet in the stables, at a vacant cottage, anywhere. Even now, watching him sipping his drink, she wanted only him.

  When she learned she was pregnant, she wanted to bed Geoffrey and tell him the child was his. John, however, wouldn’t stand for it. He’d arranged for Geoffrey to discover them in bed, freeing her to marry John.

  John was second in line to the title, and the family was extremely wealthy. She’d have it all. Passion, money, and ultimately Kanewood. And with Geoffrey so set against ever marrying, John’s son would ultimately inherit the title. When Ann was born, Patricia had been disappointed. But they would have a son one day.

  With the arrival of Geoffrey’s young bride, however, matters could change. If Rebecca gave him an heir, all would be lost. And what if she decided she didn’t want the earl’s younger brother and his family residing at Kanewood? Patricia would never let anything move her from the estate. She shivered and John glanced over at her. “Cold, darling?” He patted the seat beside him. “Come. I’ll warm you.”