Lord of Scoundrels - Loretta Chase [65]
"All a male need do," she'd told him patiently, "is unfasten his trouser buttons and aim somewhere, and it's done. I am a female, however, and neither my plumbing nor my garments are so accommodating."
He had laughed and stuffed her into the carriage and told her she was an infernal bother, but she was born that way, wasn't she?— being born female. Nonetheless, the second time she'd needed to relieve herself, a few miles back at Andover, he'd grumblingly told her to take her time. She'd returned to find him patiently sipping a tankard of ale. He had laughingly offered her a sip, and laughed harder when she drained the quarter pint he'd left.
"That was a mistake," he'd said when they were once more upon the road. "Now you'll be wanting to stop at every necessary from here to Amesbury."
That had led to a series of privy and chamber pot jokes. Jessica had never before understood why men found those sorts of anecdotes so gut-busting hilarious. She had moments ago discovered that they could be funny enough if related by an evilly clever storyteller.
She was at present recovering from an altogether immature fit of whooping laughter.
Dain was lounging back in the seat, which, as usual, he took up most of. His half-closed eyes were crinkled up at the corners and his hard mouth had curved into an endearingly crooked smile.
She wanted to be vexed with him for making her laugh so intemperately at the crass, puerile story. She couldn't be. He looked so adorably pleased with himself.
She was in a sorry case, to find Beelzebub adorable, but she couldn't help it. She wanted to crawl into his lap and cover his wicked countenance with kisses.
He caught her studying him. She hoped she didn't look as besotted as she felt.
"Are you uncomfortable?" he asked.
"My backside and limbs have fallen asleep," she said, shifting her position a fraction away. Not that one could get away, even in this coach, which was roomier than his curricle. There was still only one seat, and there was a great deal of him. But the air had cooled considerably with evening, and he was very warm.
"You should have asked to step out to stretch your limbs when we stopped at Weyhill," he said. "We shan't stop again until Amesbury."
"I scarcely noticed Weyhill," she said. "You were telling one of the most moronic anecdotes I'd ever heard."
"Had it been less moronic, the joke would have gone over your head," he said. "You laughed hard enough."
"I didn't want to hurt your feelings," she said. "I thought you were trying to impress me by displaying the uppermost limits of your intellect."
He turned an evil grin upon her. "When I set out to impress you, my lady, believe me, intellect will have nothing to do with it."
She met his gaze stoically, while her insides went into a feverish flurry. "You are referring to the wedding night, no doubt," she said composedly. "The 'breeding rights' for which you've paid so extortionate a price. Well, it will be easy enough to impress me, since you're an expert and I have never done it, even once."
His grin faltered a bit. "Still, you know all about it. You weren't in the least puzzled by what the lady and gentleman in your grandmama's pocket watch were doing. And you seem to have an excellent notion of the services the tarts are employed to perform."
"There is a difference between intellectual knowledge and practical experience," she said. "I will admit I'm a trifle anxious in the latter regard. Yet you are not at all inhibited, and so I am sure you will not be shy about instructing me."
Jessica hoped he wouldn't be too impatient to do so. She was a quick learner, and she was sure she could discover how to please him in a relatively short time. If he gave her the chance. That was all