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Catherine Gayle

A Perfect Pearl

ONE

“ Tell us something delicious,” Judith, Lady Lipscombe said to Elaine. “Something wicked and scandalous about Raynesford.” She leaned over the table between them, dropping her voice to hardly above a whisper.

Elaine’s heart stopped. Something wicked or delicious or scandalous about Owen? There wasn’t such a thing to tell. With Owen Shelton, Viscount Raynesford, what one saw was precisely what he was. From what his sister told her, he’d always been that way.

“ Oh, yes, you simply must, Elaine,” Vivian added. “After all, we’ve told you all about Tucker and Lipscombe-or at least about how they’ve been this last week while we’ve been at Quinton Abbey.”

Indeed, Judith and Vivi had told her all sorts of mischievous tales of their nighttime adventures of late. More than enough to leave her wondering if she’d ever experience anything of the sort. Elaine thought for a moment, searching her mind for something she could tell them-anything at all-other than the truth.

Nothing came to mind, however.

“ There’s really nothing to tell. I’m sorry.”

Judith’s jaw dropped open. “You mean to tell us that Raynesford is exactly like that in your bed?” She pointed over to where Owen sat in a plush armchair by the hearth, an open book about horse breeding before him, oblivious to all the hooting and hollering from the card tables around him, to the silly, unmarried girls twittering in the corner near him, and even to the raucous game of charades taking place near the south wall.

For just a moment, he glanced up at Elaine and caught her eye. He half-smiled, then returned his attention to his book.

She let out a sigh. “Yes, you could say that.”

“ He doesn’t bring a book of instructions to bed with you, I hope,” Vivi whispered. “I’d be tempted to strike him over the head with it, if he did.”

Elaine chuckled at the image, but shook her head. “He’s never done anything remotely like that.”

“ What does he do, then?” Vivi asked.

A gaggle of the house party’s unmarried ladies passed by their table. Elaine waited until they were well out of earshot, then took a quick glance around to be sure no unwelcome ears were listening in before she answered. “Well, it’s nothing like what you two have told me about.” She stopped herself and thought hard before continuing. Elaine would never want to say anything bad about her husband. Owen was the sweetest man, once you were able to delve past his gruff exterior, at least.

“ Does he avoid your bed?” Judith asked. “Piers rarely used to come to me, you know. It all changed here.”

“ Oh, no. It’s nothing like that,” Elaine rushed on. “We…er, well…” A deep blush heated her cheeks and she lowered her voice even more. “We make love frequently. Almost every night, still, and we’ve been married for years.”

“ Is it rather tedious, though?” Vivi put in. “Same position every night?”

Tedious wouldn’t be quite right. Vigorous, certainly. Owen always made certain she found her pleasure, too. He was a very considerate lover in that regard. But it was always in precisely the same position each night-him above, her below, fast and feverish, and then it was done. There was never any variety.

Judith frowned when Elaine didn’t answer. “Perhaps he ought to bring a book of instructions with him, then.”

“ One with diagrams,” Vivi said with a devious gleam in her eye. “I could paint some watercolors for you, if you’d like.”

“ Oh, heavens, no.” Owen would be furious she’d discussed their private affairs with anyone else if he ever found out. And surely, if she came to him with paintings, he’d know.

“ No,” Judith murmured, her eyes narrowed in thought. “But clearly, Raynesford won’t change his ways without a bit of prodding. You’ll simply have to introduce him to some new bedroom activities, Elaine.”

“ I couldn’t do that.” Could she? Could she be bold and daring enough to suggest something as wanton as that?

“ You can, and you will,” Vivi pronounced emphatically. “Come with me.” She stood up and took Elaine by the hand, gesturing for Judith to follow along with them as well. Without giving Elaine a chance to decline, Vivi tugged her out of the drawing room and up the stairs.

TWO

Owen glanced up from his book to watch his wife being led away by the wives of Lipscombe and Lord Tucker Flynn. She looked a little panicked. He smiled inside. It would be good for her, whatever they were planning to do.

Ever since they’d married and she’d left her sisters, she’d been sorely lacking in female companionship. To be sure, there were plenty of women in his family. But Tabitha, Bethanne, and Jo tended to move as a flock, never really allowing anyone else into their ranks. The other women were either significantly older and married or rather younger and unmarried.

Elaine simply didn’t have all that much in common with the females in his family, which meant she was stuck, more often than not, with Owen to keep her entertained.

He did a damned poor job of it, too, he feared.

Owen still hadn’t discovered just how or why he’d been fortunate enough to win Elaine’s favor-why she loved him-but he said a prayer of thanks for her every day, and tried to show her his love every night.

He had half a mind to follow her and show her right now, but held back. She needed some time for feminine companionship. That, more than anything else, was the reason he’d accepted the Quintons’ invitation this summer.

When Holbrook plopped down in the seat across from him, Owen returned his attention to his book. The earl was far from the sort of company he preferred to keep. If he wanted to occupy himself with drinking, gambling, whoring, and the like, Owen need look no further than his own brother, Toby, back at Ainsworth Court. Unlike Holbrook, however, Toby could at least be excused the continued sowing of his wild oats if one took into consideration his youthful age and opportune lack of wife. Someday, he would become a respectable gentleman-or so Owen hoped. He held out no such expectation for the lecherous Holbrook.

“ Ah, horse breeding again,” Holbrook said, leaning over closer to him. “Haven’t you learned enough about that yet, Raynesford? You’ve hardly done anything this last sennight save read similar books.”

Owen spared the earl a scowl and turned the page.

The Bornholm clock next to the hearth ticked loud in the silence between them.

Holbrook shifted in his chair, adjusting his long legs so they stretched out before him and crossing one ankle before the other. “Pity you haven’t been paying more attention to the lovely Lady Raynesford. I know I have been.”

At that, Owen’s eyes flashed up to meet the lascivious gleam in Holbrook’s cold, black gaze. “Perhaps it would behoove you to pay such attention to Lady Holbrook instead of my wife.”

He slammed his book closed and tossed it to the table before him, then stalked from the suddenly repressive drawing room. Though it was dark out, he headed out through the gardens and made for the mews. A ride would do him good, and Quinton had been adamant that he should feel free to make use of any of his mounts should he see fit.

Only when he was halfway there did he see the folly in his decision. He should have gone straight up to Elaine. He should be making certain that Holbrook didn’t follow through with his implied threats. Turning around mid-stride, Owen took the back stairs two at a time, heading up to the abbey’s old dormitories where he and Elaine shared interconnecting rooms.

Without bothering to knock, he pushed open the door and came to an immediate stand-still. Elaine turned around, wide-eyed, halfway dressed in some gauzy, almost sheer nightrail and stockings. She wore a long string of pearls, wrapped three times around her neck, and her blonde hair was still pulled into its knot above her shoulders-but his wife had nothing else on. She was still pulling the garment into place with the assistance of the two ladies she’d left with.