Page 40 of Marrying the Wrong Earl (Lords and Ladies in Love 2)

Nash pulled away and tapped her on the edge of her nose. “Later.” He glanced over her shoulder and pointed. “Coming up is the Fernside farm. As a boy, I played with their two sons, as well.”

Still under the spell of his kiss, it took Arabella a moment to compose herself. Then she twisted in her seat to see a stone cottage with fields of grain behind it.

Nash continued as he rubbed the soft skin at the back of her neck with his finger and thumb. Honestly, if the man did not stop touching her this way, she would become a bumbling idiot. Then who would be to blame if she made an arse of herself with his tenants?

The carriage came to a rolling stop in front of the small, but tidy, farm. Arabella once again noticed very well-tended crops and family gardens. Whatever issues Nash’s steward was grumbling about hadn’t become noticeable as of yet.

The older couple waited at their front door and greeted Nash and Arabella with smiles, as well. It seemed as if Nash was truly beloved by his tenants. That was very comforting.

“Well, hello there, my lord. I was hoping you would see your way here. We heard yesterday that you were expected and would be bringing your new bride.” Mr. Fernside limped slightly as he moved forward, his wife beside him.

“Hello to you, Fernside.” He turned to Arabella. “This is Mr. and Mrs. Fernside. They are valued tenants, and their family has been with us for generations.”

“It seems to me sometimes, my lord, that I, myself, have been here for generations.” Fernside tugged on the brim of his cap and nodded at Arabella. “My lady.”

Mrs. Fernside offered a slight dip and fussed with her apron, her cheerful face flushing as she spoke. “May I ask you to honor us with a visit inside, my lord, my lady? Since I was hoping you would be by, I made my special apple cake.”

Nash took the basket out of Arabella’s hands and holding onto her elbow, moved her forward. “We are in for a real treat if Mrs. Fernside made her famous apple cake. Their two sons, David and Michael, would swipe it from the windowsill while it was cooling, and we all three would devour it.”

Mrs. Fernside wagged her finger. “Ah, but what you didn’t know, my lord, was I always made two. One I put up high so the lads couldn’t find it.”

“See, she was on to our tricks,” Nash said, winking at Arabella.

Another comfortable home, this one was quieter, with no children around. “I have lost touch the last couple of years. Where are Michael and David?” Nash settled himself in a chair at the wooden table as Mrs. Fernside placed dishes and a teapot on the table.

“Michael married a little gel from Essex. Moved to her family’s farm. David took himself off to the American Colonies.”

“So, you work the place yourself?”

“We cut back a bit, and once in a while my nephew comes by to help. It would be all right if it weren’t for the raise in rent.” Fernside ducked his head and blushed, obviously regretting complaining about a raise to the landlord.

Nash crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. “Tell me about this raise, Mr. Fernside.”

The tenant visits continued for the rest of the afternoon. By the time Nash and Arabella waved good-bye to the last farm on their list, Arabella was exhausted. Who would have thought playing lord and lady of the manor could be so tiring? And truth be known, any weight she’d lost with her illness had truly come back today with all the biscuits, cakes, and tarts they’d been offered.

Each family had been more welcoming than the one before. She found it a satisfying experience to visit tenants. Something she would certainly enjoy, along with caring for animals. Yes, life at Clarendon Manor could be quite pleasant. But first, she must get through the Season in London and Nash’s demands that she take on her role as his countess with the ton’s approval.

Once the carriage began its journey toward home, Nash placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to his side. His large hand cupped her chin and turned her face up to him. Slowly, his head descended, his lips taking hers in a possessive kiss. His tongue slid along the seam of her lips until his nudging encouraged her to open her mouth. They parried and sucked and then he swept over her teeth, and her lower lip, where he stopped to nip, then soothe the soft skin. “I suggest we again have an informal dinner in your room when we return home.” He spoke against her lips, his voice deeper, huskier.

“It looks as though we will never use the dining room, my lord.” Goodness, her voice didn’t sound much better.

“I can think of many ways to use the dining room table,” he said. “None of them require food, however.

”

Had he meant what she thought he’d meant? She looked up at him and then sucked in a breath at the smirk on his handsome face. “Surely, you don’t mean—”

“Yes, I do.” He leaned his head close to her ear, his voice lowered to a pitch that had her wanting to remove their clothes and feel him skin-to-skin. “There are also the many carpets, the chairs, the library desk, the settee, the gazebo.”

She drew back. “Outside!”

“Why not?”

The man was downright wicked, but a kernel of excitement grew in her lower parts at the vision of them naked in the outdoors.

“What I am wanting is an intimate dinner with my lovely wife, and delectable ways to spend the time after dinner.” He grinned. “Consider it dessert.”

Arabella gazed up at him, already lost in his spell. Thinking of the road dust and hours spent in the carriage, she said, “Yes, I believe that would be a good idea, though I would like a bath first.”