Seven Years to Sin(6)



“Please, speak freely,” he urged. “I want you to come to the altar with no doubts or reservations.”

Jess spoke in a rush. “I should like to retire with you to the summerhouse by the lake. This moment.”

His exhale was harsh, as were his features. His grip on her hand tightened almost painfully. “Why?”

“I have angered you.” Averting her gaze, she backed away. “Forgive me. And pray, do not doubt my innocence. The hour is late and I am not myself.”

Benedict pulled her hand to his chest, bringing her close again. “Look at me, Jessica.”

She did as he asked and was made dizzy by his regard. He no longer looked at her with discomfort or concern.

“We are mere hours away from the marriage bed,” he reminded her in a voice hoarser than she’d ever heard it. “I collect that the events you witnessed in the woods stirred reactions you do not yet understand, and I cannot tell you how it affects me to learn you are fascinated by your response and not repulsed, as some women might be. But you are to be my wife and you deserve the respect of that station.”

“You would not respect me in the summerhouse?”

For the length of a heartbeat, he looked taken aback. Then, he threw his head back and laughed. The rich, deep sound carried over the garden. Jess was smitten by how merriment transformed him, making him more approachable and—if possible—more handsome.

Pulling her even closer, Benedict pressed his lips to her temple. “You are a treasure.”

“From what I understand,” she whispered, leaning into his warmth, “duty lies in the marital bed, while pleasure exists outside of it with paramours. Do I reveal a defect in my character by confessing that I should prefer you to want me in the manner of a mistress rather than a wife, insofar as the bedroom is concerned?”

“You have no defects. You are as perfect a woman as I have ever seen or become acquainted with.”

She was far from perfect, as the remembered lash of a switch to the backs of her thighs attested. Learning to disguise her shortcomings had been a necessity.

How had Caulfield sensed that she would be open to his request to watch him? How had he somehow recognized an aspect of her character of which even she was unaware?

However he’d managed it, Jess was dizzily relieved to know that Benedict did not find her sudden self-awareness threatening or undesirable. Her betrothed’s acceptance gave her unusual courage. “Is it possible you might find such an interest in me?”

“More than possible.” Benedict’s mouth sealed over hers, swallowing the words of relief and gratitude she meant to speak. It was a questing kiss, tender and cautious, yet assured. She caught at his lapels, her chest heaving from the effort to find the breath he was stealing from her.

His tongue slid along the seam of her lips, then teased them apart. When he entered her mouth with a quick thrust, her knees weakened. He pulled her tighter against him, exposing his need in the hard ridge of arousal pressing into her hip. His fingers kneaded her skin, betraying a growing agitation. When he broke away and pressed his temple to hers, his breathing was labored.

“God help me,” he said roughly. “As innocent as you are, you have nevertheless seduced me with consummate skill.”

Lifting her into his arms, he carried her swiftly to the summerhouse.

Sensitive to the highly charged situation, Temperance walked silently beside them. Then, she waited on the porch with unusual meekness and watched the sun rise.





Chapter 1



Seven years later …





“I beg you to reconsider.”

Jessica, Lady Tarley, reached over the small tea table in the Regmont family parlor and gave her sister’s hand a brief squeeze. “I feel I should go.”

“Why?” The corners of Hester’s mouth turned downward. “I would understand if Tarley was with you, but now that he has passed … Is it safe for you to travel such a distance alone?”

It was a question Jess had asked herself many times, yet the answer was moot. She was determined to go. She had been given a brief window of time in which she could do something extraordinary. It was highly doubtful she would ever be presented with the opportunity again.

“Of course it’s safe,” she said, straightening. “Tarley’s brother, Michael—I should become accustomed to referring to him as Tarley now—made the arrangements for the voyage, and I will be met at the dock by someone from the household. All will be well.”

“I am not reassured.” Toying with the handle of her floral-patterned teacup, Hester looked pensive and unhappy.

“You once wanted to travel to faraway places,” Jess reminded, hating to see her sister so distressed. “Have you lost that wanderlust?”

Hester sighed and looked out the window beside her. Through the sheers that afforded some privacy, one could see the steady flow of Mayfair traffic in front of the town house, but Jess’s attention was focused solely on her sister. Hester had matured into a beautiful young woman, lauded for her golden glamour and stunning verdant eyes framed by thick, dark lashes. She’d once been curvier than Jess and more vivacious, but the years had tempered both traits, forging a woman who was slender as a reed and serenely elegant. The Countess of Regmont had acquired a reputation for notable reserve, which surprised Jess considering how charming and outgoing Lord Regmont was. She blamed the change on their father, and his blasted pride and misogyny.

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