Ewan groaned at the contact.
He moved his lips to her ear and whispered, “That’s the part of me that will be inside of you. I want you so badly.”
She glanced down at him, biting her lip. “Are you certain I shouldn’t worry?”
Ewan chuckled. How did this woman make him laugh in the middle of making him mad with lust? It was an unexpected combination to be certain and one he quite enjoyed.
“Your body will expand for me. And the wetness will help,” he murmured.
She nodded and took a deep breath. “All right.”
Ewan closed his eyes and found her lips again in the darkness. She was trusting him. Trusting him to tell her the truth, trusting him with her body. Trusting him completely. He would not betray her trust.
He moved his hand down between her legs once more to ensure she was still ready for him. She kept her arms wrapped around his neck and closed her eyes tightly. He probed at her wet warmth before using his hand to guide his cock inside. He pushed in slightly, watching her face for any sign of discomfort. “Are you all right?” he asked, clenching his jaw against the unholy torture of being partially inside her and having to wait.
“Yes.” She nodded but she didn’t open her eyes. Her throat worked. He kissed it.
He pushed in a bit farther, clenching his jaw even harder. If Thea had opened her eyes, she would have seen exactly how difficult a struggle it was for him. “All right?” he asked, his voice a rough whisper.
She nodded again.
He pushed himself in to the hilt and remained still, gasping against his body’s urge to move.
Thea’s eyes flew open.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, showering small kisses along her cheeks, hoping against hope that it hadn’t been too awful.
“No.” She shook her head. She moved a little, making him gasp. “It … it just feels so … wonderful.” She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck again.
She lurched against him, sliding against his cock.
“Jesus Christ,” Ewan swore under his breath.
But it was all the encouragement he needed to continue. He pulled out slowly and slid back inside, once, twice, waiting for any sign that he was hurting her. When he knew she was all right, he pumped into her over and over, hard and fast but not too hard, not too fast—there would be time for that sort of lovemaking later.
Using his thumb to rub her again, he forced himself to slow his pace while he built her lust, circling the nub between her folds until he felt her thighs go tense. Her head began tossing back and forth on the mattress and she clawed at his back, making whimpering, pleading noises in the back of her throat. It took every ounce of self-control he had, but Ewan waited until she came again beneath him, her back arching so that her breasts pressed against his chest. The muscles inside her clenched him unmercifully as he steadily thrust into her again and again, his own climax building to such a force that he pushed himself inside of her once last time and shuddered into her hot wetness, a ragged groan torn from his throat.
His weight collapsed on her for only a moment before he rolled to the side, taking her with him and cradling her against his chest, his heartbeat thundering beneath his ribs. He held her tightly against him as the sweat on his skin dried and he tried to remember his own name. Never in his life had he experienced an orgasm like that.
“You felt the same thing I felt earlier, didn’t you?” she asked, a smile filled with what could only be pride resting on her full sultry lips.
All he could do was nod and pull her hand up to his lips. He kissed the center of her palm and placed it over his heart. “Do you feel what you did to me?”
Thea’s eyes widened as she realized how quickly his heart was beating.
“Well, if you felt anything close to what I felt, I understand exactly why,” she said.
He pulled her atop him and ran his fingers through her thick hair. “You’re beautiful, Lady Clayton. And now, you are well and truly mine.”
Chapter Forty-One
They made love two more times that night and Thea was amazed each time at the things her body was capable of and the things Ewan knew how to do to elicit the responses he wanted. He knew just where to touch, what to whisper in her ear, and when to whisper it to heighten her pleasure. By the time dawn peeked through the curtains, Ewan was fast asleep, and Thea was sore, satiated, and thoroughly unnerved.
He’d called her beautiful. He’d called her Lady Clayton. He’d even said she was ‘well and truly’ his. He’d done things to her body that she had never dreamed possible. In the span of one evening, she had the sinking suspicion that he’d chained her to him thoroughly body and soul. After all, a lady could fall in love with someone who called her beautiful. She could love someone who claimed her as his. But he’d never once mentioned the word love, not even at the height of his pleasure.
Going to bed with Ewan tonight had seemed like the obvious and proper thing to do. They were married and it was their wedding night. But now that the wedding night was over, Thea was terrified that he would leave her for a mistress in London while she’d stayed here alone night after night, with nothing but the memory of his touch. And the thought of Ewan doing the things he’d just done to her with a mistress made a pit form in Thea’s stomach.
She glanced at her husband’s sleeping form. He looked younger, more vulnerable, peaceful. But he was still undeniably handsome with his long eyelashes splayed against his tan cheeks. Thea pushed her palm against her forehead. Dear God, despite her best intentions, she’d done precisely what her mother had done, what her mother had warned her against. Thea had married a man who she felt more for than he did. She was a fool. A complete fool.
As the sun rose, Thea slipped out of Ewan’s bed, grabbed up the remnants of her ridiculous nightrail, and made her way back into her own bedchamber. She shut the adjoining door behind her as quietly as possible and winced when it made a little thump. She glanced around her new bedchamber, which was even more spectacular than the one she’d had when she’d been here as a guest. She pulled a dressing gown from her wardrobe and tied it around her waist before she began pacing the floor, biting her thumbnail and trying to still her growing panic.
She had to regain control of herself and her thoughts. She and Ewan had had a lovely evening. A memorable wedding night. But she could not allow herself to think it had been any more than that. Their marriage wasn’t a love match. She’d do well to remember that fact. She would get started today at the business of being a viscountess. That was her role now and she’d been raised to it. Being a lovesick wife who wanted to jump into bed the moment her husband quirked his finger was decidedly not in her plans.
She paced in front of the bed for a few more moments, deciding on her course of action. First, she would take a long, hot bath and a nap. Later, she would go and have tea with Phillip.
Ewan yawned and stretched before rolling himself over in the bed and feeling around for his wife’s soft, welcoming body. He patted the space next to him for several moments before realizing that he’d managed to find nothing more than cold sheets. He sat up straight and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
The morning light streamed through an opening in the curtains. He glanced at her side of the bed. Thea was gone. He was alone. She’d obviously slipped back into her room at some point in the night. Ewan expelled his breath and uttered a curt expletive.
Did she regret what had happened between them? Or did she simply prefer not to see him this morning? Either way he didn’t like waking up without her. Regardless of their forced marriage, Ewan couldn’t deny that the attraction between them was fierce. Their lovemaking last night had been extraordinary. Like nothing he’d ever experienced before. The entire evening had gone nothing like he’d expected, but it had been better than his wildest dreams.
Ewan tossed the covers aside and got out of bed. Without bothering to call his valet, Ewan pulled on some clothing and went to visit Phillip. Despite the early hour, he needed a d
rink. And some advice.
In that order.
Phillip, it turned out, was not as keen to drink before noon as Ewan happened to be. But the future duke was more than willing to sit in his friend’s study and lend an ear while Ewan poured himself a glass of brandy.
“Congratulations, Clayton,” Phillip said, raising a non-existent glass in Ewan’s honor.
Ewan raised his own real one in salute and took a drink. “Thank you,” he mumbled.
Phillip arched a brow. “If you don’t mind my saying so, you look a bit … rough for a happily married bridegroom.”
Ewan glanced down at his wrinkled clothing and emitted a short growl. He rubbed at the day-old stubble on his cheeks. “What does it matter?” he grumbled.
“I suppose that’s one way to look at it,” Phillip replied, shaking his head. “Marriage trouble already, Clayton?”
Ewan shrugged and poked out his cheek with his tongue. “Oh, not much unless one thinks one’s wife hating him is trouble.”
Phillip’s brows snapped together. “Why in the world would you believe she hates you?”
Ewan expelled his breath in a long rush. “I ruined her life. Why wouldn’t she hate me?”
Phillip’s brow remained drawn. “How precisely did you ruin her life?”
“Let’s see.” Ewan lifted his glass again and stared at the amber liquid inside. “Thea made it quite clear she didn’t want to marry me, and instead of taking no for an answer, I showed up at her house and compromised her in front of the biggest gossip in the countryside, thereby forcing her into the marriage.”
Phillip’s face remained skeptical. “You forced yourself on her? That doesn’t sound like you, Clayton.”
Ewan shrugged. “I kissed her.”
Phillip chuckled. “Yes, and I assume she kissed you back if you were still kissing when the biggest gossip in the countryside entered the room.”
Ewan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes, but if I hadn’t gone looking for Thea in the sitting room, then—”
“And if Napoleon weren’t such a horse’s ass, we wouldn’t be at war. Things happen for reasons, Clayton. And it sounds to me as if the two of you couldn’t keep your hands off one another. That says something.”
“I’m not certain Thea would agree with that statement,” Ewan grumbled, but even as he said the words, he couldn’t stop thinking of last night in bed with Thea. They certainly hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other then. Thank God.
Phillip crossed his arms over his chest and regarded his friend down the length of his nose. “Well, Thea is coming to have tea with me later, and I’m quite interested to hear Lady Clayton’s side of this tale.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Later that morning, Thea knocked lightly on the door to Phillip’s sitting room. Maggie had drawn Thea a bath earlier and they hadn’t spoken about any of the details of the night before. The maid might have raised her eyebrows when she gathered the remnants of the torn nightrail, but to her credit she didn’t say a word. Thank heavens. Thea had little idea how she would have explained it had her friend asked.
Thea had been looking forward to her visit with Phillip all day. She might be married to a man who didn’t love her, but at least she had Phillip to talk to and Alabaster to ride again. Things might not be so bad here at Clayton Manor after Ewan left to return to his life in London.
“Come in,” came Phillip’s gentle voice.
Thea pushed open the door and stepped inside. Bright sunlight streamed through the windows on the far side of the room. Phillip was sitting at his writing desk, busily scribbling. She smiled brightly at the sight of her friend. The moment he realized it was her, he turned, stood and immediately returned her smile.
“There you are, Viscountess Clayton,” Phillip said. He stood and bowed to her.
Thea swallowed. This was the first time anyone had called her by her new married name. It surprised her, causing her to go silent for a moment. “Yes, I’m Viscountess Clayton now. For better or for worse.”
Phillip frowned. “What does that mean?”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s good to see you, Your Grace,” she finally managed.
“No. Now, there will be none of that. My name is Phillip and that’s what you shall call me forevermore.”
She inclined her head and smiled. “Very well … Phillip.”
“It’s good to see you standing and walking,” he continued. “It’s the first time I’ve seen you do that, you know.”
Thea chuckled. “I suppose that’s true. My leg has healed. I do hope you received my letter and have forgiven me for leaving without saying good-bye.”
“Of course.” Phillip cleared his throat. “I’m only sorry I couldn’t come to the wedding,” he said, guilt lining his features. “I hope you understand. I’m not yet ready to tell Society that I’m not dead.” He chuckled.
“Funny,” Thea breathed. “I sort of wish I could tell Society that I’m dead.”
Phillip strode to her and took her hands. He studied her face. “That hardly sounds like a happy bride. Come and sit.”
Tears burned the backs of Thea’s eyes as she followed the duke to a set of chairs near the window and took a seat in one of them. Phillip waited for her to sit before lowering himself into the other chair.
“I’m not much of a happy bride, I’m afraid,” Thea began, staring out the window at the sky.
Phillip studied her face. “I’m sorry to hear that. Tell me what happened. Clayton’s only given me the barest sketch of the details.”
Thea pressed her lips together and shrugged. “I suppose now that I’m a married lady, I can do things like sit and talk with you about such things.”
Phillip nodded. “I only want to help. Clayton told me you’d refused to marry him after the gossip in the papers.”
Thea sighed. “That’s true but then …” Her cheeks burned. Why was it difficult to admit what had happened after?
“Then, what?” Phillip prompted.
“Then Ewan came to my father’s Christmastide ball. And he kissed me. And I kissed him. And Lady Hepplewhite saw us.”
“And you were forced to marry.” Phillip searched her face. “That’s why you’re unhappy? You didn’t want to marry Clayton?”
“No, er, not … precisely.” Thea bit her lip and glanced away.
“Well, you’re hardly the first couple to marry under, ahem, rushed circumstances,” Phillips said.
“Yes, but normally couples who marry under such rushed circumstances are madly in love.”
Phillip’s brow furrowed. “Madly in love? What do you mean?”
Thea couldn’t meet her friend’s eyes. “Nevermind. I … I don’t know what I mean either. The fact is that if I hadn’t sneaked here and broken my leg, Ewan wouldn’t be married to a woman he never wanted.”
Phillip frowned at her. “Is that what you think?”
Thea spent an inordinate amount of time staring at and smoothing her skirts before replying. “What else am I to think? He’d planned to marry another lady and now … now he’s stuck with me. I’ve ruined his life.”
“You’ve ruined his life?” Phillip’s nose was completely wrinkled into a frown as if he were thoroughly confused.
Thea nodded miserably.
Phillip tilted his head to the side. “Seems to me that if he kissed you, Clayton has some responsibility to bear as well.”
“Of course he does, but the kiss was a spontaneous mistake, obviously. He shouldn’t have to scrap all his carefully made plans over it. And no wife wants to be a ‘responsibility.’”
Phillip pursed his lips, opened his mouth to speak, and shut it again before finally saying, “Lady Thea, if you will allow me to speak bluntly …”
Thea swallowed and nodded some more. “By all means.”
“At the risk of telling my friend’s secrets. Clayton was a complete mope after you left. And that’s coming from me, who has been a complete mope for months.”
> Thea couldn’t help but laugh at her friend’s description. “Phillip, you were not a mope. You were devasted. Just back from war where you nearly died. You’d been through far too much and you needed time to heal.”
“My point is that I’ve never seen Clayton as sullen and unhappy as he was in the days after he received your father’s letter informing him that you had refused the marriage.”
Thea frowned. “You must have mistaken it. Whatever reason Clayton was sullen had nothing to do with my absence, I assure you.”
Phillip shifted in his chair. “Why do you say that?”
“Do you not know he was engaged to be married to another woman?”
“Are you talking about Lady Lydia Malcolm?”
“Lydia Malcolm? Is that who it was?” A mental image of Lady Lydia flashed through Thea’s mind. She’d met the young woman before. Blond, graceful, beautiful. Perfect manners. Why, she’d want to marry Lady Lydia if she were a bachelor. No wonder Ewan was unhappy to have had to take Thea instead.
“Yes, and the truth is that they were never even engaged. Not formally.”
“What?” A rush of heat like lightning flashed through Thea’s middle.
Phillip splayed his hands across the table. “If he’d been engaged, you’d have seen it in the papers, wouldn’t you?”
Thea shook her head. “I thought perhaps we missed it. Maggie doesn’t always read me every line.”
“It’s true that Clayton and Lydia’s father had discussed a possible match, but nothing was ever put to paper. And furthermore, I can assure you that Clayton never even mentioned Lydia to me more than once.”
Thea took a deep breath. She closed her eyes. “You don’t understand, Phillip. My mother always told me not to marry a man who didn’t love me. Ewan cannot possibly love me.”
Save a Horse, Ride a Viscount Page 19
