"Happy, darling?" Willamina asks her dazzlingly handsome husband as they waltzed around the splendidly opulent ballroom.
"With you by my side how could I not be?" Jack answered as he moved through the steps of the dance with leonine grace.
Hand in hand they took in the scene around them. Dozens of immaculately dressed couples drinking their fine wine and gliding across their marble floor in a whirl of satin and lace. Directly above their heads the crystal shards of an enormous chandelier sparkled from the light of a hundred candles. Truly a celebration fit for the Baron Johann von Liebig and the Dowager Duchess of Hereford on the tenth anniversary of their wedding.
None of the noble guests that night had any notion of their venerable host's less-than-respectable origin as the infamous highwayman Black Jack Turner; a common criminal who had personally robbed half the gentry before becoming one of them. No. How could they have guessed? That would have required far more imagination than the
ton
was capable of.
Granted, as a couple they caused a small scandal by paying their servants a generous wage and treating them with decency. And the obvious happiness of their marriage ruffled more than a few feathers amongst the clucking highborn hens. Yet in spite of those minor sins their gatherings had long been a mainstay of the aristocratic social calendar.
It didn't hurt that they were undeniably the handsomest couple in Christendom. Now middle aged Willamina managed to retain all the fiery beauty of her youth. Her figure was as fine as ever and only a few silver streaks marked her vibrant red locks. Jack had held up equally well, with the same lean physique, chiseled jaw, and slick black hair that he had when he was a swaggering young bandit. Between Willamina's womanly allure and Jack's masculine magnetism they inexorably drew every eye in the room. Any room.
And as if all those advantages weren't enough, they had also been blessed with two wonderful children. John, the heir to Willamina's first husband's estate (or so the world believed) was away at Cambridge. He'd grown into quite the fine young man, intelligent, handsome and soon to inherit a grand title. Last but certainly not least was their eight-year-old red-headed daughter Benjamina. She had her mother's good looks and her father's charm. Though she ran a bit wild, the little minx had every servant below stairs wrapped around her little finger. Heaven help the eligible gentlemen of high society when she came of age.
"Do you ever miss it?" Willamina probed a bit deeper. She could tell by the guarded look on Jack's face that he knew what she meant though they rarely spoke of the old days. "There must be some things about it you long for. The freedom, the excitement..."
"The saddle sores." He joked, giving her one of his customary ready smiles but this time it didn't quite reach his eyes.
Make no mistake about it, running a dukedom was no easy feat. Despite all the apparent ease and luxury there were many tiresome and trivial responsibilities involved in maintaining such a grand estate. When they were first wed Willamina had been amazed by how effortlessly Jack had taken to them. For the bastard son of a horse thief and a tavern wench, he'd adapted to the role of lord of the manor as if he'd been born to it.
Yet recently something had changed. Though Jack still preformed his duties flawlessly they appeared to weigh more heavily on his usually carefree shoulders. He reminded Willamina of a tamed bird of prey, retaining all its majesty yet lacking the wild spark of vitality it once had. Willamina soon hoped to rectify that.
But first a particularly odious obligation was making his rotund way towards them at that very moment. Lord Blandley may have had a grand name but he smelled of stale tobacco and never talked of anything besides corn tariffs.
Willamina leaned in close to recapture Jack's attention, subtly pressing the soft swell of her bosom against him. The amount of cleavage the vantage allowed him was anything but subtle, as was the look of carnal interest that flashed across his face.
"I have a surprise for you, husband. Meet me in the garden as soon as you can." With the final notes of the song she dipped into a curtsey and floated off into the crush before Blandley could reach them.
She politely brushed off a flurry of greeting and felicitations with practiced grace. Just before slipping out the back door she sought out her husband from across the crowded ballroom. He was already surrounded by solicitous admirers yet his eyes quickly found hers. She thought to make some gesture that might spur him on but the unmistakable hunger in his eyes left her in no doubt.
He wasn't going to leave her waiting.
A few minutes later Willamina stood at the entrance to the hedge maze that lay on the edge of their sprawling garden. She restlessly surveyed the location for the tenth time. It was a darkly romantic spot. Far enough away from the main house that she could no longer hear the music or the chatter of guests. All around stone sculptures of exotic beasts and bare breasted goddesses dotted multicolored flowerbeds. The night itself was mild and nearly moonless. Ideal conditions for rogues and highwaymen to ply their trade. In other words, perfect for her own wicked purposes.
Suddenly a pair of hands clapped over her eyes, plunging her world into blackness. She was spun around on her heels. When the hands left her eyes she was staring into Jack's smiling face. He pressed a courteous kiss on her dainty knuckles. Then he reeled her in and slanted his mouth over hers for a real kiss. It was a hard kiss, demanding yet playful, like the man himself. From the first touch of his lips Willamina could already feel the low hum of arousal moving through her.
When Jack eventually released her she felt something heavy and cool around her neck. She looked down to find she was wearing a new necklace. And what a necklace! Countless tiny diamonds were clustered around a white gold chain and, in the center, dangled a large sapphire as clear and blue as her eyes.
"Happy anniversary, my duchess."
"Oh Jack, it's lovely." She beamed.
"Not half as lovely as you." He shrugged and casually arranged the lace of his cuff. "I took it off the Marquess of Blain once upon a time. So it's probably best you don't wear it to her next whist drive. But enough of that, what's this about my surprise..."
"Patience, darling. Do you recall the first present I ever gave you?" Willamina stalled. It was a rare occurrence to have the upper hand on her forceful husband and she wished to draw out the moment as long as possible.
He furrowed his brow. "Of course, a hunting rifle."
"You had it with you on our first hunt together. I'm sure you recall. We had been tracking an enormous stag all afternoon and judging by the baying of the dogs we were finally closing in. You and I and half the hunting party came over the hill guns raised to find, not a stag, but another kind of animal entirely. Namely, the Earl of Durnsbury making the beast with two backs with Susan the maid."
"And Peter the groomsman." Jack burst out laughing. "So more like the beast with three backs."
