Out of the corner of his eye, Edward saw Selina frown.
‘Now, it really is time for you to go back to Miss Jenkins. I’ll look in on you later today and you can show me your new step.’
Ophelia sighed the sigh of a most dejected soul, but nodded obediently and left the kitchen, pausing only to receive a piece of freshly baked gingerbread from the indulgently smiling cook.
Edward watched her go, following the progress of her slippered feet as they pattered up the kitchen steps and disappeared from sight. Turning back towards his wife, Edward was surprised to find her wearing an expression of frank irritation.
‘Is there a problem?’
The downturn of her lips deepened. ‘You know, if there’s one thing we Roma pride ourselves on it’s our skill at dancing. If I chose to learn I could perform just as well as you or any of your upper-class ladies.’
Edward shrugged. What did it matter? ‘If you say so. I just know you would never make that choice.’
‘And how do you know that? Perhaps I might want to try!’
Edward eyed her narrowly. One of Selina’s hands had come up to rest on her hip and her face was set in the same expression of determined challenge she had worn as she’d walked down the aisle towards him on their wedding day. The reluctant admiration he had felt for her ever since rose up within him once again, renewed in strength and mingled with a sense of frustration.
Wasn’t the whole reason he had chosen Selina as his wife because she was the very opposite of everything he had previously admired in a woman? The spectre of Letitia flitted through his mind before he could banish her laughing ghost. He had no intention of allowing such feelings to unman him ever again, and yet at every encounter with the new Mrs Fulbrooke she somehow managed to get under his skin, to provoke in him a reaction he felt an aggravating inability to control.
It was unacceptable, and it troubled him more than he cared to admit.
Taking in the firm set of her jaw, Edward felt the beginning of an idea dawn upon him. Perhaps he could be the one to unnerve this proud Roma for once, taking the upper hand she always seemed to have without even trying.
‘Oh? Well, if that’s the case I’ll teach you myself. We’ll begin at once, shall we?’ Without pausing for an answer Edward made for the kitchen stairs and began to climb. ‘I’ll let you go to change your dress. Meet me in the Great Hall.’
He heard her sharp intake of breath at his back and couldn’t restrain a quiet laugh. Two could play at her game. If she insisted on turning such an insignificant thing into an argument he would call her bluff. Perhaps it was time for Selina to learn that she wasn’t the only one who could be pig-headed.
She was hesitating near the door when Edward entered the Great Hall, having changed her gown and exchanged her muddy shoes for clean ones. Selina’s previously damp hair had almost completely dried, he saw as he stepped close to her, and he noted with fresh admiration and discomfort just how much the new style suited the sharp lines of her bone structure.
‘Shall we begin?’
‘Yes. Let’s.’
The defiant glint had returned. Whatever panic she had felt in the kitchen at his abrupt statement had evidently been squashed.
Edward smiled inwardly at her attitude. Let’s see how brave you are when we’re actually touching. If you don’t combust with horror on the spot I’ll consider it a miracle.
‘Very good. We’ll start with a simple waltz. It’s a new dance, brought over from Europe and considered in some circles particularly scandalous.’ He sketched a short bow, almost but not quite missing the cynical flicker of one dark Romani eyebrow. ‘Take my hand and then place the other hand on my shoulder.’
Reaching towards her, Edward was barely able to hide his smile at the fleeting look of mortification that flashed across her face. But then she grasped his hand, and suddenly it didn’t feel amusing anymore.
With one palm in his, and the other lightly placed at his shoulder, the space between them was closed, and for the first time Edward was struck by the flawless fragility of her body. Supple and delicate, she felt light in his hold, but balanced with an underlying core of wiry strength that took him by surprise. It was a combination that momentarily robbed him of speech. Her waist was warm beneath his touch, and he was close enough to be able to count the dusting of freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose should he choose—an action he suddenly found quite unacceptably and quite unexpectedly impossibly tempting.
The immediacy of her effect on him was bewildering, as was the intensity of feeling that swept through his nerves, setting every sinew in Edward’s entire body alight. He felt the way her body moved as she breathed, inhaling and exhaling in a steady rhythm his own wanted to copy, and he marvelled at how the curve of her waist fitted perfectly into his hand, as though they had been designed to meld together in seamless heat.
The urge to further explore the secret geography of her body came upon him in a rush of confusion and he forced it back, disturbed by the wayward direction of his disloyal thoughts.
‘Like this?’
Edward felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle at the sensation of Selina’s breath on his cheek. His own breath seemed to be coming more quickly than he could account for, and he had to swallow hard before answering. At such close range he could see each individual hair that shaped the lines of her brows, now pinched together slightly in concentration.
Why had his heart rate picked up to such a ridiculous degree, leaping within him like an animal in a trap? It wasn’t as though it was the first time he had danced with a girl, and he had never experienced such a reaction before. Perhaps he had caught a chill during his cold morning ride across the fields—or perhaps it was something else entirely...something that he thought to guard so strongly against.
‘Exactly like that. You’re a natural.’
Looking down at her face, so close to his own, Edward saw Selina’s uncertain expression. Her eyes had been averted while she considered the placement of her hands, but now she met his gaze full-on, with her head tilted back and lips slightly parted: lips, he realised at that moment, that were the prettiest he had ever seen.
Black eyes stared up into hazel, and for the longest moment of Edward’s life neither of them moved. The silence was deafening, and the world seemed to halt on its axis as each of them drank in the sight of the other. But then Selina’s long lashes came sweeping down, veiling her from his scrutiny, and Edward fixed his eyes on a spot on the opposite wall above Selina’s head.
At a loss as to what to think, feel or do, he began to teach, all the while steeling himself against the whirl of new sensation that caused each nerve ending to stand to attention.
* * *
Selina moved, twirled and stepped as though in a dream, just as she was instructed—it was just as well she wasn’t required to think independently, for her mind appeared to be playing tricks on her that she couldn’t decipher. Her cheeks were suffused with inexplicable heat, and the place on her waist where Edward’s hand lay felt as though it were smouldering under her gown.
It was entirely out of the question for her to peep up into her partner’s face again. That one long look had shocked Selina to the core. She had been close enough to brush his face with her lips, and noticed for the first time how the deep hazel of his irises was flecked with tiny chips of gold. The intensity of his gaze had thrown her, and it had been all she could do to look away.
Now, as she turned gracefully in Edward’s hold, following some dimly-heard instruction, she could scarcely breathe for inhaling the scent that seemed to emanate from him: a combination of soap, rain and spices from the kitchen that was horrifyingly, delightfully, extremely attractive.
Stop it.
Stop. It.
So what if his hand was large enough to almost span her entire waist? It meant nothing. The same went for the impressive musculature she cou
ld feel moving beneath the fabric at his shoulder. Nothing. It meant nothing. She would allow it no space in her mind. She would never allow herself to forget what he was—who he was: an unwilling husband, from a world so far removed from her own there could never be any real accord between them even if he had wanted a loving wife.
But the firm grip of his hand around hers sent a strange thrill down her spine, and her eyes would stray across the achingly impressive expanse of his chest, and there was precious little she could do to slow the hummingbird beat of her heart, pounding within her as the flames in her belly licked higher and higher and burned brighter with every step she took.
The whirl of confusion inside her mind held her attention for a moment too long and, distracted, Selina felt her breath catch as she missed a step, her foot coming down on the hem of her gown to make her stumble.
There was never any real danger of her falling, so quite why Edward seized her so firmly she couldn’t say. But the next moment all such thoughts vanished as she found herself closer to him than ever before, and when she dared look up into his face it was all she could do to stay upright. His eyes found hers and she saw something flicker in them she had never seen before.
Edward’s lips were gentle as they came down to slant across her own.
What? What’s happening?
Selina’s eyes flew wide in shock before drifting closed, as she was lost in a wave of sensation that threatened to overcome any rational thought she had ever had. His hands were warm as they held her close to the firm chest she had only allowed herself the briefest of moments to consider, so dangerously enticing had she found it, and Selina felt her own hands twitch with the desire to slide over Edward’s coat, to delve inside and trace the hard planes of his body with wondering fingertips.
Her heart pounded in her ears as the flames inside her roared with approval, stoking themselves higher to burn her from within. She was sure she must have stopped breathing, and some tiny voice in the back of her mind screamed at her to pull away, but that suddenly seemed such a silly waste of time when she could be spending it exploring the fascinating terrain of Edward’s lips. There was nothing she could do to stop herself from standing on her tiptoes and reaching for Edward as ardently as he reached for her.
Just when she was sure she would either pass out or crumple into a heap on the floor, Edward released Selina’s mouth and drew backwards, his breath coming hard. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head slightly, his eyes fixed on Selina’s flushed and dazed-looking face.
Selina’s vision was blurred, and she fought to pull herself together. She had never experienced anything like that before. Nobody had ever made her see stars and feel as though her legs might fold beneath her. They stared at each other, neither able to move or say a single word to break the aching tension between them.
The sound of the dinner bell ringing made them both jump.
Edward released Selina from his grasp and she immediately stumbled away from him, fanning herself with one hand. She barely knew where to look—certainly not directly at the man in front of her, who seemed as much at a loss for words as she was. Edward’s face was flushed—and with more than the exertion of dancing, Selina thought, mortified.
He was the first to speak in the beat of silence that stretched between them—one Selina could no more have filled than she could have snatched back the last few minutes, never to be repeated.
‘Well...’ He cleared his throat distractedly. There was another painful pause. ‘So—what do you think of “gentry dancing”?’
Was he truly going to act as though nothing untoward had just happened? she wondered in disbelief. As though both of them hadn’t just lost control and made their situation even more awkward than ever before?
She stared at him as icy fingers of shame snaked down into her stomach. That was a mistake. Enormous. Unforgivable. But if Edward could pretend nothing was amiss then, heaven help her, so could she.
‘I like it well enough, I suppose.’ She almost choked on the words, her mouth dry. A few more curls had escaped Selina’s hairstyle, and in a passable show of nonchalance she reached up to twist them back into place. ‘Will you want me to return the favour and teach you a few Romani steps?’
‘I’m not sure I could keep up.’ Edward had managed to muster a small smile, but Selina caught the impression of something hiding beneath the surface. ‘I should go and change. Thank you for a very...interesting morning.’
He bowed to her and moved away, long strides taking him quickly from the room.
He had never behaved in such a way before. Usually he would allow her to go ahead of him, his good manners evident in his every action. Now it seemed as though he couldn’t get away fast enough; hardly surprising, given the circumstances.
Selina watched him go, waiting for her breath to return as a feeling she couldn’t identify gnawed at her. It was a new sensation, vaguely uncomfortable, and it circled in the pit of her stomach like nothing she had ever experienced before. Whatever it was—and however stupid she had been to cause it—she wasn’t sure that she disliked it...
Chapter Seven
Edward lowered the correspondence he had been reading to the dining table and tapped his teeth absently with the end of his letter-opener.
Word of his marriage was spreading fast. The letter in front of him was the third he had received containing congratulations and a barely disguised hunger for information about his mysterious new lady, and he had no doubt that there would be many more to follow.
A sideways glance through the expansive window overlooking the Hall’s grounds showed Selina crouching near one of the raised beds, gently patting Edward’s favourite old dog on his grizzled head. The sight made his lips begin to curve upwards—a movement he quickly halted in vexation. Ever since their alarming kiss a few days previously Edward had found himself uncomfortably affected by small things Selina said and did—a glimpse of her being affectionate to old Tips should not be so pleasing to him, he was sure.
At least the ice between them had thawed slightly as a result of their impromptu dance lesson. Selina had been less chilly in her manner with him, and he had even caught her watching him on a couple of occasions without looking as though she was plotting his doom. The strange sensations he had suffered while they danced had been unfortunate, but surely only the natural result of holding so closely a pretty—very pretty...more than pretty—girl. He would not be so foolish as to allow it to mean anything more.
He would not be so foolish as to repeat his most catastrophic lapse in judgement either.
Edward pinched the bridge of his nose as the image of Selina’s face appeared before him, scarlet with shock, kiss-swollen lips parted breathlessly. Once again it sent a shard of discomfort into his gut. What had he been thinking, allowing himself to lose control so unforgivably? It could never happen again.
The sensation of Selina’s lips beneath his own had been achingly sweet, dangerously exciting. The last woman he had kissed had been Letitia, of course, and Edward felt himself grimace as the memory of blonde ringlets and sky-blue eyes rose up, an unwelcome reminder of a past he had no desire to revisit. Letitia’s kiss had been chaste, though, and oddly cold. Selina’s had been a burst of fire, and Edward felt the embers of that disconcerting something spark within him at the thought.
He should never have kissed her—that much was true—but he couldn’t deny how much he had enjoyed it, and how even now he knew it would be a struggle to curb the desire to surrender to his urges again.
He suppressed a small sound of irritation and sat back in his chair, pushing away the letter in front of him. You need to be more careful. His mistake might so easily have led to something worse. His attraction to Selina might not be under his control, but how he chose to react to it certainly was, and he had let himself stray perilously close to the pain of a rejection he never wanted to experience again just for the sake of a flee
ting thrill. Aside from his own determination never again to be vulnerable to a woman’s whims, Selina’s Romani sensibilities would never entertain a gentry suitor—and he shouldn’t forget that.
He heard footsteps on the boards outside the dining room and moments later Selina entered, enveloped in her customary shawls and with the elderly whippet trotting at her heels. She took her usual seat at the table and nodded across at Edward, who passed her what he now knew to be her favourite delicacy from the selection laid out for luncheon—a little sugared bun topped with caraway seeds. It was far too sweet for Edward’s taste, but Selina could eat at least two at any given opportunity.
‘Thank you.’
She laid the morsel neatly on her plate and hesitated for the barest of moments before picking up her knife and fork. Glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, Edward saw she had selected exactly the correct cutlery. Ophelia would be delighted that her seemingly relentless lessons had borne fruit.
Unaware of her audience, Selina took a fragment and dropped it into the waiting jaws of the dog lying at her feet. Edward raised an eyebrow. Apparently not every etiquette lesson had hit its mark.
‘I received another letter in the afternoon post. About my very sudden, very private marriage.’
‘Oh.’
‘Oh, indeed.’ Edward took another forkful from his own plate and scanned the page once again.
Apparently yet another acquaintance of his father had heard the news that young Master Fulbrooke had taken a wife—a wife nobody seemed to know much about. Was such talk true? There were rumours, he informed Edward darkly; hideous calumnies that the lady was not quite the thing.
Edward rolled his eyes. It was true that the only people officially informed of his marriage so far were his servants and, of course, his father’s solicitor, for the purpose of the will. But it had been necessary to spread the news as soon as possible, to ensure Harris and Milton didn’t get any ideas of new ways to attack the Roma camp and target Selina.
The Marriage Rescue Page 11
