His grip on his glass tightened as he itched to unveil the glories concealed beneath that flannel tent. In the candlelight, she became prettier by the moment. The frozen expression had seeped away, and he found himself fascinated by her full lips and the soft, silvery shine of her eyes.
She had beautiful white skin. Was she that perfect pearly shade all over? A hunger to find out flooded him, all the more overwhelming because it was unexpected. He took a mouthful of wine and let its flavor feed his senses. His body stirred with the beginnings of genuine interest.
And there was that extravagant hair. In the flickering light, it encompassed every shade of red from garnet to russet. He’d always loved her hair. Jane’s beauty was subtle. So subtle it had taken him far too long to recognize its power. Now he did, the night extended ahead, promising a satisfaction he’d never imagined when he’d proposed marriage three weeks ago.
Even better, she no longer looked paralyzed with dread.
*
Chapter Seven
*
Keeping his moves easy—he’d worked with enough skittish horses to know that any sudden shifts spooked them—Garson rose and set his half-empty glass on the mantel. He kept his voice even, too. “You looked lovely today.”
Jane made a self-deprecating gesture. “Thank you, but that’s all because of the dresses Susan brought down from London. I’m afraid in recent years, fashion has passed me by, and all my clothes were dyed for mourning when Papa died.”
“I’ll take you to London for the season.” Had she noticed that he’d edged closer to the bed?
Her expression was a charming mixture of uncertainty and anticipation. “I still don’t have anything to wear.”
“Every modiste in the West End will fight to get their hands on the new Lady Garson.”
A faint smile curved her lips. “I would love some nice clothes and the chance to make new friends.”
“The world is your oyster, Jane.”
Her smile deepened. “I don’t like oysters.”
“You’ll like your new life.” He sat on the bed, close enough for his hip to brush hers through the blankets. “I’ll do my best to make sure you do.”
“Thank you, Hugh,” she said softly, without moving away.
“No, thank you, Jane.” When he took her hand, the silvery eyes widened.
He’d held her hand plenty of times, at least since he’d been hauled in to assist at her dancing lessons. Today, he’d taken her hand in the church. And at the wedding breakfast.
But it felt strange—special—to sit on Jane’s bed, cradling her cool fingers in his. He began to rub her hand, brushing his thumb over her wedding ring. The way his large hands encompassed hers was oddly stirring. She was so delightfully feminine and delicate. Knowing she was his wife suddenly seemed a fine thing indeed, by Jove. “Are you cold?”
She shook her head. “No.”
He found himself hoping that was true in every sense. Because with
every minute, his impulses toward his bride became more heated. He raised her smooth, white hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. The scent of lavender teased his nostrils, and underneath, a hint of Jane herself. When his lips glanced across her skin, she bit her lower lip.
“Better?”
She swallowed as she nodded. He was close enough to see the movement of her throat and the rise of her chest as she inhaled. Too quickly. She was becoming uneasy again.
Garson slipped a gentle hand around the back of her neck. To his surprise, his breath caught as he encountered the silky ripple of her hair. Desire kicked his heart into a gallop. Whatever his reasons for proposing, right now, he was eager to discover the secrets his shy bride concealed beneath her demure air.
Who would have thought he’d be so mad for little Jane Norris?
Except little Jane Norris was a woman grown now. A devilish attractive one at that. What a blasted fool he was, never to have seen that before. Even wrapped up in enough white flannel to sail a clipper to India, she set his blood afire.
The muscles under his fingers were tight, and he began to stroke, warming and softening her into readiness. She didn’t try to escape, but she was far from comfortable with this change from conversation to seduction.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you all day,” he murmured.