The Wild Passion of an Eccentric Lady: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Emily Honeyfield

  “I could wait outside. In case she says no, and you need to make a go of it!” the coachman quipped.

  “She won’t say no, my friend,” Simon replied.

  With that, the coachman was off, and Simon found himself walking up to the Spencer town home one more time. Knocking upon the door, he was comforted to see Clyde hastily open it, a smile upon the man’s lips. Simon had never seen Clyde smile. It was as though the footman knew exactly why Simon was there.

  “May I speak with Ms Spencer?” Simon asked.

  “Of course,” Clyde replied gleefully. “Come right in.”

  Entering the home, Simon discovered that Emilia was in the parlour with Rose. Stepping within, he saw the faces of both ladies light up with glee.

  “Simon!” Rose called out.

  “Rose, Emilia,” Simon said with a dignified nod of the head.

  “Father is in his study,” Emilia said.

  “I’m not here to speak with him.”

  “Oh?” Emilia replied.

  “Rose, would you be so kind as to give Emilia and I some privacy?”

  “Oh, this is getting exciting!” Rose said, hastily leaving the room. She closed the door behind her, and as she did so, Simon turned to Emilia and looked deep into her eyes. There was a flush upon her cheeks, and Simon knew that Emilia could guess why it was that he was there.

  “Emilia,” he said.

  “Simon,” she replied.

  “May I approach?” he asked by way of being humorous.

  “Of course,” she said with a delighted smile.

  As Simon drew near to her, he felt as though he was finally approaching his fate. Emilia was his destiny, and nothing would ever convince him otherwise. Once he was in front of her, Simon took Emilia’s hands within his own and grasped them tightly. He looked deep into her eyes and took a breath, knowing that the woman that was standing before him was the most beautiful woman in the world.

  “You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me, Emilia,” Simon began.

  “I can say much the same.”

  “The first time that I saw you, you stirred something within me that I couldn’t quite understand. Now, I know that the sensation that I first felt upon meeting you was love.”

  “I think that it was the same for me!”

  “I struggled with it for some time, knowing that we were carrying out our plan, and that you were not my real betrothed, but with time, the connection between us became undeniable.”

  “Were you struggling as much as I was?” Emilia asked.

  “Indeed.”

  “And how humorous it is that neither of us was able to say a word!”

  “It would have been too difficult. The rejection of Lady Susana made it impossible to speak. But all the while I was grappling with my feelings. The first time that we kissed at the ball, I should have known then and there that we should stop this ridiculous plan and I should make you mine.”

  “I don’t know what came over me,” Emilia said, still gazing into his eyes. “I thought that the kiss would be a remarkable way to carry the plan forward, but just as soon as you began to kiss me back, it was as though something had changed.”

  Emilia didn’t need to explain further. They knew each other’s minds. That evening had been just as magical for him as it had been for her. What’s more, it only proved that all the while, Simon and Emilia had been on similar paths; similar journeys. They had both been struggling to understand their affections for one another and their discussion was only confirming that.

  Simon was never one to believe in fate, nor even humanity, but the two people in the world that had changed his opinion of everything were Emilia and Kingsley. If there were two people who were fated to be in his life, it was them. Simon had never felt so much gratitude in all his life.

  “Emilia, I need you to know that you have made me a better man. Kingsley may have taken me off the streets, but you’ve made a full man out of me. You’ve lifted the veil from off of my eyes, and I feel as though I can finally see. I’m a better artist and a better person because of you.”

  “I have done nothing,” Emilia said bashfully, turning away. Simon placed a finger under her chin to pull her back to him.

  “That is not the truth. You have done everything. We’re already engaged in the public eye, of course,” Simon went on. “And I have told you of my desire to make this official, but for the time being, I think that you need a genuine proposal from me to show that, no, Emilia Spencer, we are no longer faking. You are to be my wife.”

  “Oh, Simon.”

  That was when Simon got down upon one knee, as a gentleman should. As he did so, Simon watched as Emilia brought a hand in front of her face, concealing an honestly delighted expression. Simon laughed to himself. It was impossibly sweet of her to smile and giggle like a schoolgirl at the very sight of him being down upon one knee.

  Simon held her hand tightly and took another deep breath. He was not nervous for what he was about to do; he merely felt the sheer weight of the moment. If she said yes, Emilia would be his for the rest of his days. Simon could imagine no greater treasure on Earth.

  “Emilia Spencer, will you do me the sincere honour of being my wife?” Simon asked.

  “Oh, Simon,” she said, taking a deep breath herself. “There is nothing that would make me happier.”

  “Emilia, I need a yes,” Simon said humorously, just desiring to hear the word.

  “Yes! Yes, yes, and yes!” she proclaimed, and Simon stood to his feet, never knowing such joy in all his life. He took Emilia into his arms and lifted her into the air, gazing at her delighted face as he did so. She was the most perfect woman in the world, and she was all his. For the life of him, Simon didn’t know how it was that he became so lucky, but he’d thank the sun, the moon, and stars for the rest of his days that Emilia Spencer would become Emilia James.

  Epilogue

  Emilia gazed out the window of the studio and smiled to herself contentedly. It had been weeks since the wedding, and already, she felt as though she were the world’s happiest bride. Both she and Simon were in the studio that particular afternoon. They had already made love in the morning and Emilia was still basking in the glow of it.

  As she turned to her husband, she saw that he was wrapped in concentration, working on the portrait of a servant that he had randomly selected. Simon said that he cared not whom he sketched, he merely wanted to become the best painter that he could possibly be.

  “You’re making great progress,” Emilia said.

  “The longer I sit here, the better I become,” Simon said with a boyish grin.

  Emilia smiled to herself and placed a hand upon her belly. It was instinctual to do so, even though there was no child there. At least, Emilia didn’t assume so. She recalled the things that Simon had done to her body that morning and how it all filled her with such excitement and happiness. Simon had been becoming more adventurous in bed of late, and that pleased Emilia to no end. She had never been so comfortable with any other human being in all her life. She would allow Simon to take her anywhere that he wanted. Emilia was on board for the adventure.

  “We should take tea in the garden, seeing as the weather is fine,” Emilia said contentedly.

  “That sounds wonderful, my love,” Simon added, still not looking away from his painting.

  Emilia laughed to herself. She was pretty sure that for the rest of her life, the only thing that would rob her of her husband’s attention was his painting, and that was something that she could live with. In fact, she found it impossibly sweet. When they shared a bed together, Simon made it feel as though there was nothing in the world but she, and for that, she would offer due respect and allow him to become enveloped in his passion.

  And yet, Emilia still wished for his attention because the sudden need came over her to make love once again! Emilia couldn’t understand her voracious appetite of late. Since being wed, Emilia felt as though some kind of carnality had come out of her that she didn’
t know existed. And Simon was sensitive to it.

  Every time that she gave him that certain kiss, he would immediately take her to the bedroom. If they shared a certain glance over tea, Simon would get up from his seat, take Emilia by the hand, and yet again lead her to the bedroom. There were no limits placed upon when they would join in this union. They were free to do as they pleased, and do as they pleased, they did.

  Of course, Emilia was too bashful to tell Rose of any of this. But she did sincerely hope that Rose would find a man that made her feel as Simon made Emilia feel. There were moments of sheer ecstasy. Emilia had never thought it possible.

  Looking out the window once more, Emilia planned in her mind what she might suggest for tea. She found it delightful being the lady of the house, speaking with the chef to arrange meals and chatting with the gardener to oversee what was being planted. There was a kind of domestic contentment that had already settled in, and Emilia was enchanted by it. What’s more, the servants seemed to be grateful for her presence, and Emilia treated them with the utmost respect. It felt good to do so.

  “Have I told you today that you’re the most beautiful woman in the world?” Simon said, still not looking away from his canvas.

  Emilia giggled to herself. “I think that you have told me three times today.”

  “My apologies. I must have forgotten,” Simon said, grinning from ear to ear.

  She looked at her husband’s canvas, and the likeness to the servant was uncanny. But Simon was not only catching the outward visage, he was also channelling the inner soul of his subject, as any good artist should.

  “Have I told you yet today that you’re the world’s most generous husband?” Emilia asked.

  “You have not told me,” Simon said, frowning.

  “I have told you!” Emilia protested, remembering saying it at the breakfast table.

  “Could you perhaps say it again?” Simon said. “I fear that it takes several times to sink in.”

  Emilia smiled warmly. “You’re the most generous husband in the world.”

  “But not handsome?” Simon quipped.

  “The most handsome, generous husband in the world.”

  “Not the most skilled lover?”

  At this, Emilia doubled over in laughter, unable to contain herself. The laughter was so strong that tears came into her eyes. Despite Simon’s laughter, he continued to paint. One thing that had utterly surprised Emilia since being wed to Simon was his ability to make her laugh at any given moment. Marriage had brought out Simon’s warmth and humour. She had already known that these things were there, but somehow, they were becoming crystallized after marriage.

  Just then, the overwhelming need to make love to Simon overtook her. What was it about his humour that made her want to be near to him? His charm was utterly intoxicating. Despite her ardour, Emilia knew that there was no chance of pulling her husband away from his painting, and part of her didn’t even wish to. She desired to leave him to what he loved most. In fact, anything that brought Simon happiness also brought Emilia happiness. If she could in any way contribute to his happiness, then Emilia felt like a complete woman.

  Yet still, she desired to make love, and in that very studio.

  After Kingsley had removed all his paintings, the room was left entirely barren. There were a few easels, and of course, the couch where Emilia and Simon had spent that one remarkable night. That was where she wished to return that afternoon. But what should her method be? Emilia could approach Simon and kiss him on the ear. That would be a very clear sign, indeed.

  Instead, Emilia came up with an even better plan.

  “Husband, is it all right if I distract you for a moment?” Emilia said.

  “What kind of distraction?” Simon asked.

  “Your favourite kind,” Emilia replied, coming around the easel and standing before him. Emilia began to slowly undress herself, piece by piece. She had Simon’s rapt attention just then. In fact, Emilia had never seen him so focused.

  Although they had made love a great deal, Emilia had never teased Simon in that way before. She enjoyed being gazed upon by him, but never had she laid herself so bare in an utterly visible way. Her breath quickened, and Emilia felt a flush come to her cheeks, but she felt as though she had complete power over Simon at that moment.

  His attention was fully hers, and there was longing and awe in his eyes. How was it that every time Simon beheld her naked body, he looked at her as though it were the first time? Emilia was endlessly flattered by it.

  “You’re trying to undo me,” Simon finally said, not looking away from her body.

  “My suggestion is that you paint a portrait of Aphrodite.”

  “I don’t see why not, she’s standing right before me,” Simon said, utterly eating her with his eyes.

  “I don’t think that you’ve ever painted a nude before,” Emilia said, partially being suggestive but also thinking that it might be an extraordinary and important experience for her husband.

  “My love, I fear that if you’re the first nude that I paint, I shall never be able to paint one again.”

  “You flatter me,” Emilia said with a smile.

  “I promise you that I do not,” Simon replied in all seriousness.

  Just then, Emilia was entirely in the nude, standing before her husband in the most vulnerable fashion possible. She felt no fear or regrets. She was with the one man in the world that made her feel safe, comfortable, and complete.

  “I can’t stand this,” Simon finally said, getting up from his stool and walking towards her. He picked Emilia’s naked body up into his arms and hoisted her into the air, kissing her neck as he did so.

  The feeling of being in a state of undress while her husband was fully clothed was a new experience for Emilia, and she richly delighted in it. But she did not want to give into the throes of passion so soon. Although the suggestive choice had been to garner her husband’s attention, Emilia found that she now truly wished him to paint a portrait of Aphrodite. If she were the subject, Emilia would feel immense pride.

  “Come here,” Simon said, still holding her and walking towards the couch. Flashbacks of the first time that he placed her upon that couch came to mind, and Emilia felt a mix of happiness and wonder, and she was reminded of the fact that she was the luckiest woman on Earth. But just as she was placed on the couch, her husband walked away and returned to his easel, turning it so that it was facing her and placing a fresh canvas upon it so that he might start anew.

  Momentary disappointment filled Emilia as she realized that her husband was not going to make love to her just yet. He was going to work on the painting, just as she had bid him to do! She frowned, but only briefly. Then she smiled, knowing that her husband’s eyes were still on her, and he was getting to work on what she thought would be a future masterpiece. Not because it was her being painted, but because of her husband’s tremendous skill.

  Emilia thought it amusing, seeing the gaze of a painter in Simon’s eyes. When he looked at her during their lovemaking, his eyes were pure rapture, but while he painted her, his brow was knit, and Simon was all concentration. Emilia thought it remarkably appealing and perhaps just as pleasurable as lovemaking. In her husband’s eyes, Emilia was the only thing in the world. At least, that was how his gaze made her feel.

  As she lay there, Emilia felt dampness between her thighs, and a blush came to her cheeks. Why was it so erotic being viewed by her husband in that way without him laying a hand upon her? It was a rather new sensation that Emilia was enjoying immensely. Still, there was the unending desire for Simon to come and join her on the couch so that she need not be cold and by herself.