Page 60 of A Countess of Convenience

Her blood pulsed with each step, and she trembled at the sight of his magnificent body, wishing with all her might that they could join together.

“We must remember this little game another time, my love. You play so well I’m rather more than ready. Are you?”

She’d been ready the moment they’d entered the arbor, but she nodded and raised her arms to him. “So ready, love.”

He went into her arms then covered her, his member hard and thick between them.

Astonished, Judith stared into his face, hope rising. “Are we going to join together fully at last?”

“We have been wed for a month now and you’ve had your courses during that time. If you begin increasing now, no one can say anything about a child coming early or that we married to avoid scandal.” He kissed her tenderly. “I would like nothing more than for us to be truly man and wife. Is that your wish as well, Judith?”

“Oh, yes. You know it is.” Had been for four long weeks.

Burying his face between her breasts, John swept her thighs open wide.

Joy surged through her as he guided himself to her opening and quickly thrust inside. The unexpected sensation of fullness almost sent her spiraling to completion on his first stroke, but she fought back from the brink, determined to make this long-awaited moment last. But with both their needs so great, she couldn’t deny the inevitable for long. As she shattered around him, calling his name, he thrust home, spilling himself deep inside her.

Afterward, as they lay panting, wrapped in each other’s arms, Judith suddenly became aware of the precariousness of their perch. “Be careful, John. You don’t want to end up in the dirt.”

He chuckled, kissed her, and rose nimbly. “I believe I can manage, my love.” Indeed, he seemed quite at home in the little alcove. After pulling his shirt over his head, he held out his hand to her. “Let’s make you a little more presentable for our trek into the house.” He helped her into her over petticoat, although he made no move toward the panniers or other garments.

“Are we just going to leave the rest of the clothing here?” Frowning, Judith gazed at him. He hadn’t put on anything other than his shirt either. Fortunately, the long shirttails hid the open fall and its lack of buttons.

“The servants will gather them in the morning.” Parting the hanging vines, he led her out of the alcove then back along the pathway.

“But…but then the servants will know what we did there.” How terribly embarrassing.

“Do you think they do not know what we do in our bedchambers?” Laughing, John pulled her down the path, though she would’ve dearly loved to race back and snatch up their clothing.

“I think you’ve done this out here before, John.” Did she truly know nothing of the man she’d married?

“I’ll let you in on a secret, my love.” Even though not a soul was there to hear, John leaned down to whisper in her ear, “To be able to do what we did there tonight is the whole reason I had that alcove built.”

Chapter 23

Next morning, amid intermittent showers of rain, John set out for the Magistrate’s office in Bow street. Sir Reginald Matthews had requested John come to his office simply because the man was sadly behind in his work. Matthews, newly wed himself, apparently, had made time enough to see John, but only if John came to him.

Not the normal way of things, however, he wanted Matthews’s information badly enough he’d venture out in the uncertain weather. After last night’s delights with Judith, he wanted to bring her any news possible about her daughter. Despite their myriad intimacies, he wasn’t certain of her true affection for him. Physical intimacy alone did not a marriage make, although it did play a major part, of course. A very agreeable part, to be sure. But if he could bring her daughter back to Judith, that might be the tipping point from lust to love.

The carriage pulled up before No. 4 Bow Street, an extremely busy place to judge by the number of people coming and going. He gave instructions to the coachman to return in an hour and hurried through the throng into the white brick building.

The bustling Magistrate’s Court seemed to be in full session with all manner of people standing on either side of the room, creating a low hum throughout the vaulted chamber. To one side of the fireplace sat a magistrate and clerk, before them a man in mean clothes who they appeared to be interrogating.

“Can I be of service, m’lord?”

The question brought John’s attention back to his present business and a neat young man, perhaps a clerk, carrying a handful of papers, who looked at him expectantly. “Where may I find Sir Reginald Matthews?”

“This way, m’lord. I’m on my way to his office this moment.” The young man hurried down the side of the room, pushing past people waiting their turn to be heard, to a door at the end. Through the door and up a staircase to the first floor, which proved a good deal quieter than the courtroom. They turned down the corridor to the right, and the clerk knocked on the first door.

“Come.”

They entered a small chamber holding a large, worn mahogany desk, a row of bookcases filled with books behind it, and Sir Reginald. Sitting behind the desk, dressed in an elegant suit of gray silk, he appeared to be affixing his signature to a letter, after which he sanded it, closed, and sealed it with a wafer. After finishing his task, he looked up.

“Here are the files you asked for, Sir Reginald,” the clerk placed the stack of papers neatly on the desk, “and this gentleman was asking for you downstairs.”

“Did you ask his name, Withers? He may be my next appointment, but he may just as well be here to rob me.” Matthews’s droll sense of humor appealed to John at once.

“Rob you, sir? Here in the magistrate’s court?” The clerk looked aghast. “That would be a mad thing to do, Sir Reginald.”