No Ordinary Groom Read online

  Julia took Jane’s bow. “And here I’ve been chatting on about your betrothal. Do take your young man back to the house and see him bandaged, Jane. I’ll put the equipment away.”

  Your young man, he thought, knowing he must have at least five years on her. With a bow toward Julia, he led Jane back to Langley Manor. They remained quiet for several minutes, though he saw her frowning occasionally at his arm.

  They could have avoided all this if Jane had just listened to him and not wandered the grounds without him. Perhaps his anger was all out of proportion to the incident, but hell, she’d been giggling with one of England’s most treacherous enemies!

  At the rear of the house, he drew her aside by the elbow and entered a greenhouse. Immediately a humid, musty smell assaulted them. Ferns trailed wetly through his hair as he guided Jane down a row to a less overgrown area. The sun beat down, amplified through the glass.

  “William, this is no time to look at flowers,” Jane said, trying to pull away from him. “You could bleed to death!”

  He turned her about and caught her by the upper arms. “Jane, I distinctly remember telling you that you could not wander off without me.”

  Her green eyes went wide. “You can’t possibly be angry. I stayed on the grounds, and I didn’t go anywhere alone. I was perfectly safe.”

  He wanted to shake her, but she struggled, so he let her go. He felt wildly angry with himself for putting her in danger, then he was overcome by an overpowering need to never let her out of his sight again.

  She turned away from him and reached to gently touch the blossom of an exotic flower—and then he recognized it as a gloriosa lily native to India. He thought of a garden he’d visited just outside of Bombay, and how he’d longed for someone to share in its tropical beauty. He’d never feel alone again as long as Jane was with him.

  All his confusing emotions crystallized into one he could understand—his stark need for her. He came up behind her, let his chest touch her back. She stiffened but didn’t move away. He put his hands on her narrow waist, leaned down to press his lips between her neck and shoulder.

  “I can imagine you in the hot climate of India, where lilies grow in abundance,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper.

  He licked behind her ear, and she shuddered.

  “They would cushion you as I push you down to the earth and follow, covering you—”

  “William,” she breathed, leaning back against him. “You mustn’t say such things. And how do you know what India is like?”

  He tilted her chin so that she faced him over her shoulder.

  A breath away from her lips, he whispered, “I’m well read.”

  And then he kissed her, one hand on her throat, the other pressing flat against her stomach to hold her against his hips. She tasted like sunshine and lemonade, the sweetest combination, and he licked her as if he could steal a precious drop. He tasted the curve of her top lip, the pouting fullness of the lower, then thrust deep inside, pressing her head back so he could reach as deeply as possible.

  Jane trembled and groaned, unashamed of vocalizing how William made her feel. The shock of seeing his blood had done something to her, made her realize that a frightening bond was forming between them. She didn’t want to see him hurt. She kissed him back with fervor, letting her tongue explore the depths of his mouth like she hadn’t done before, all so she wouldn’t have to think about what she felt for him. Her hands were restless, and she finally settled them over his fingers where they rested low on her stomach. She could feel the pressure through her petticoats, just above her pubic bone. She was hot and shaky all over, and then he did something else that drove her to distraction.

  William slid his hand down her neck and teased along what she had thought was a proper neckline. She would never have guessed that skin could burn with a torment that made her press even closer to him. She tried to turn into his arms, but he held her still, then dipped the tips of his fingers beneath the fabric. She sagged in his embrace and finally broke from their kiss.

  “William—no. Please stop.”

  He licked along the nape of her neck, leaving a moist path that tingled as he breathed on it. “You didn’t like it?”

  “Not like—” She gasped, then clutched his hand as he started to move it lower on her stomach. “That hardly matters. We are in a very public place.”

  As if to prove her words, somewhere in the distance a door opened and closed. William’s arms loosened, and with regret she stepped away from him. Lifting her chin, she called on her bravery as she turned to face him. He was watching her with heavy-lidded eyes, and his mouth was wet like hers. She started to wipe her hand across her lips, but he caught her fingers in one hand. Gently, he dabbed her lips with his handkerchief, and she thought her heart would pound out of her chest at so tender a gesture.

  He suddenly frowned. “I think there’s blood on your gown.”

  “Blood—” And then she remembered. “I can’t believe we’ve been kissing while you’ve been bleeding. Come with me this instant.”

  She caught his hand, pulled him back down the row the way they’d come, pushed open the door and went outside. When they were within sight of the manor windows, she released him.

  “Are you coming?” she asked.

  “As long as I can watch your hips, I’ll follow you anywhere.”

  She found herself smiling. When they went in the front door, the house seemed quiet, with everyone in their rooms resting or preparing for a late dinner. She asked a passing maid for some cloth William could use for bandages. After assuring the girl that everything was all right, Jane instructed that hot water, as well as bandages, be sent to his room.

  She looked up at an amused William. “Lead me to your room,” she said briskly after the maid had gone.

  He took her arm and leaned down to grin at her. “Now that is what I like to hear.”

  She shook her head and reluctantly smiled. “You are incorrigible.”

  “And that’s why I’m so perfect to marry.”

  She turned away, her smile fading as she realized with dismay she didn’t immediately disagree. As they walked up a flight of stairs into the bachelors’ wing, she imagined herself on a small country estate, forever seeing the same horizon, the same faces. How could she bear the boredom?

  But then she thought of the nights lying in his arms, feeling the pleasure she was only just beginning to recognize. How would she feel, never experiencing his touch again?

  Chapter 14

  In the corridor outside William’s room, Jane hesitated and glanced about. She almost hoped someone would appear to stop her, for she knew she wouldn’t stop herself.

  He opened the door, took her hand, and pulled her inside. She froze, looking around at her first view of a man’s room. It was not all that different from hers—darker colors and less decorative scrollwork on the wood furnishings.

  Behind her, she heard the door shut.

  She made herself look at his bed. It was the place he slept—there was no reason to blush, and she didn’t. Then she saw that he was watching her, and she realized he could be misreading her intentions.

  Clearing her throat, she drew herself up and coolly said, “Please remove your coat.”

  His eyes were full of laughter, but he did as she asked. She pushed him onto a chair by the desk, looking at the blood that stained his white shirt. There was a rip through the fabric on his upper left arm.

  She touched the area gently and frowned. “The blood has begun to dry your shirt against the wound. I don’t wish to rip it off and start the bleeding again. We’ll have to wait for the water and bandages.”

  He folded his hands across his stomach, stretched out those long legs, and then simply watched her. Jane turned away and found a chair beside the balcony doors. She perched on the edge to look outside.

  “Miss Reed seems like a decent person,” William finally said into the awkward silence.

  She glanced at him. “I found her to be quite fascina
ting.”

  “Why?”

  He was studying her a bit too intently, and she frowned. “Why? I don’t understand you. I have made a new acquaintance—must there be another reason?”

  “I was just making conversation, Jane.” His voice lowered, as did his gaze. “We don’t have to talk at all, if you don’t wish to. There are…other things we could do.”

  With only those words, he made her remember the fevered humidity of the greenhouse, the way his hips had pressed into hers from behind, the taste of his mouth.

  “You’re blushing,” he murmured.

  “And you are behaving in a decidedly ungentlemanly fashion.”

  “Then talk to me about Miss Reed. Why was she so late to arrive?”

  “She did not say,” Jane answered. “But she can’t stay long because she has family business to attend to. I understand she’ll be leaving the day after tomorrow.”

  “Lady Harriet told me that she spent most of her life in India.”

  Jane tried to relax back in her chair. “It seems very exciting to me, but Julia insists that society is much the same there as here. The British upper classes keep to themselves, do they not? Such a shame.”

  “Is that her sentiment or yours?”

  “Both, I think. She seems to have great regard for people of all classes. She even had an Indian tutor.”

  “Did she spend all of her time in India?”

  “No, she was in Afghanistan for over a year, with her brother’s army,” she said, leaning toward him. “I had so many more questions, but she was also trying to improve my use of the bow, and then there was the gunshot.”

  William tilted his head as if studying her. “It sounds as if you envy her.”

  “Envy?” She found it hard to meet his gaze. “No. But she has done things in her life that I find fascinating, that I wish I could do.”

  “Such excitement is not all it seems, my dear. There is much hardship, especially in the places Miss Reed has mentioned. Do not romanticize her life.”

  “Do you think I’m that foolish?” she asked, allowing her temper to show. “Do you think I imagine the entire world is exactly like my life in England?”

  “I did not say that.”

  “Why are you threatened by the things I might want to do with my life?”

  “I am not threatened, Jane, but I am realistic.”

  “And I am not?” She got to her feet and stalked toward him. “Do you think it so impossible for a woman to travel and find the kind of excitement a man seems to think he’s entitled to?”

  “And what of your family’s wishes—your husband’s wishes?”

  He, too, stood up, and she wondered if he meant to overwhelm her with the differences in their height and strength.

  “I don’t have a husband, yet, do I?” she said coldly.

  William blinked, his face impassive. There was a sudden soft knock on the door.

  “That will be the maid,” he said.

  “I will stand over here by the fireplace.” She walked away from him.

  “Hiding?”

  His voice held a subtle taunt, and she folded her arms over her chest in defiance. “I am not ashamed of my conduct.”

  “And I don’t wish you to be either. But at least that position will keep you out of the line of sight from the door.”

  She almost stalked into the center of the room just to disobey him, but she didn’t need the servants gossiping about them. He opened the door, took a basin of steaming water and a bundle of linens from someone, then shut the door with his foot.

  Jane took the basin before he spilled it, and they both set everything down on a chest of drawers near the washstand. Without saying a word, she pointed to the chair, and he sat back down. After pouring hot water into the basin on the washstand, she dipped the towel in, then pressed it against his wound. He inhaled but said nothing.

  “No complaints?” she asked.

  “I like the water temperature of my baths hot. How do you like yours?”

  “That is none of your concern.” She repeatedly dampened his shirt, then gradually pulled the fabric away from his wound. “No worries about the ruination of this fine shirt? I wonder if there is a tailor in the village who can handle such emergencies.”

  William lifted an eyebrow and smiled, then he began to unbutton his shirt. “I assume you are spoiling for a fight so you won’t have to think about how we feel when we’re alone together.”

  Before she could disabuse him of that fantasy, he slid his arm out of his sleeve, keeping himself covered. She wondered why, for he hardly seemed like he worried about her sensibilities. But then he bared just his arm, and anything else she had meant to say went right out of her head. He had the well-developed muscles of a man who obviously led a more physical life than he implied. The shade of his skin was darker than hers, as if he actually spent time in the sun bare-chested. She shocked herself with the sensation of wanting to run her hand down the entire length of his arm.

  She licked her lips and swallowed, feeling as parched as a desert explorer. He made some kind of sound, and she found herself looking up into his eyes. She’d expected amusement or open laughter, but he was watching her mouth with an intensity that made her knees feel like jelly.

  All that expanse of maleness called to her, and she lifted her hand. She didn’t know what she meant to do.

  “You can touch me,” William said, his voice as low as a growl.

  Touch him? The shocking thought caused her to come to her senses—if a bit reluctantly. “Shh.”

  She lifted his arm to view the wound in better light and tried not to think about the sensation of his warm, smooth skin.

  Will refused to sigh his disappointment when she began the business of bandaging him. He could barely keep his breathing under control with her so close to him, her face full of concern, her breath light on his skin. He had to concentrate on keeping his chest covered so she wouldn’t ask about the mementos of his various missions. But he’d removed his gloves, and she frowned at the white scar on the back of his hand.

  “How did you get that?” she asked.

  He didn’t hesitate. “A piano lid fell on me—ruined the cuff of a very expensive shirt, I might add. Pianos can be quite dangerous.”

  She met his eyes doubtfully. “How can pianos be dangerous?”

  “I was examining the quality of the instrument, of course, and the velvet that lined the interior. Obviously the piano was defective.”

  “So you were injured inspecting fabric.”

  “Essentially, yes.” He refused to even blink as they locked gazes.

  Then she slapped hot water and soap on the scratch across his biceps and began to rub.

  “Hey!” he exclaimed. “Where’s that hallmark of femininity called gentleness?”

  “Perhaps it’s gone somewhere with your other outdated notions about women,” Jane said. “Do you wish your wound to fester?”

  “It’s not going to fester. It barely qualifies as a wound.”

  “You’re whining.”

  “I am not whining!”

  He folded his arms—one bare, one clothed—across his chest and heard the slight catch in her breathing. Good, at least she felt something for him, if only something physical.

  She turned away to fuss with the bandages. “Should I ask the housekeeper for some ointment?”

  “No, it’ll heal just fine by itself, especially after the wonderful bathing job you’ve done.”

  Rolling her eyes, she pressed a clean cloth to the cut and began to wind strips of bandages around his arm to hold the cloth in place.

  “I’m finished,” she said, turning her back and facing the balcony. “You can put on a fresh shirt now.”

  He almost reached for her, but he thought better of it. He had to remember his mission and discover what Julia had done after the archery incident.

  After taking a freshly pressed shirt out of his wardrobe; he slid it on and did up the buttons. “I’m dressed.” When she face
d him, he asked, “What will you be doing now?” If he had his way, she’d return to her room and stay there safely until dinner.

  “I think after today’s excitement, I might rest.”

  What a surprise—she was actually doing something he wanted her to do!

  “I understand there’ll be dancing tonight,” she continued.

  “And who told you that?”

  “Julia. She enjoys waltzing so much that the duke always obliges her by having musicians ready.”

  Will wondered how often he was going to hear “Julia says” from now on. “I appreciate your help. Allow me to escort you to your room.”

  “That is not necessary,” she said, moving toward the door.

  “But I insist. There are wild gunshots and stray arrows about this place. A young lady needs protection.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I don’t suppose protesting will do any good.”

  “No. Now do take my arm, and we’ll be off.”

  Jane put her hand on the doorknob, then looked back at him. “Would you see if the hall is empty first?”

  He grinned and put her mind at ease by obliging. “If you’re nervous about being seen with me, I could boost you up to your balcony.”

  Shaking her head, she dragged him out into the hall.

  Will spent the next few hours watching over Julia—who must have been resting, because she never left her room. He couldn’t help wondering why she wasn’t in more of a hurry to reach her accomplice in Leeds. Perhaps she really didn’t know about the letters incriminating her.

  The reality of what he was doing was sobering. He was supposed to be protecting Jane. It was his fault that she was being led into this treacherous game. But now he was going to have to use her as a source of information on Julia Reed.

  Why would Julia choose to confide in Jane, a woman she’d just met? Perhaps it was all an attempt to get to him, a known associate of Nick’s. Julia had been in Afghanistan; Nick could have mentioned Will’s name to her.

  But was it worth killing him “accidentally” with a stray arrow? It didn’t make any sense. Dudley would have to be under her control to time the gunshot just right.