Though he claimed his desire for her had not been feigned, she was very much aware of the reasons he had originally pursued her. Months ago perhaps she had been able to stir his blood in some small way, dressed in a fashionable gown and looking her best. But now?
Her pregnancy had brought many changes to her body. How could any man find her attractive, least of all someone with Sebastian’s experience?
“The fire is fine,” she said, finally answering his question, “the chamber comfortably warm.”
He set the fireplace poker aside and crossed the room toward her, his expression shuttered, his eyes slightly narrowed. She scrambled to her feet, not wanting him to have the advantage of looking down at her. Her movements were hasty and clumsy, rendering her momentarily unsteady.
His arm shot out, grabbing her elbow. “I’ve got you,” he said with a smile.
But do you want me? The words reverberated in her head and she sincerely hoped they did not show in her face. Her attraction to Sebastian was as strong as ever—it would be humiliating if he did not feel at least some desire for her.
His gaze moved down her body, pausing at her waist. When she stood, her silk robe had opened, revealing her nightgown and the roundness of her belly.
“I hadn’t realized you were so big,” he said, his voice tinged with awe. “It does not appear this pronounced beneath your clothes.”
“Do you find me unsightly?” she asked nervously.
“No! I find all this strangely … intriguing.” His hand moved down to her hip, resting there for a moment. Then he laid his palm over her belly, slowly tracing the shape. “It must have been a tremendous shock when you discovered your condition. How did you react? What did you feel?”
“Pure terror,” she confessed. “If not for Aunt Jane’s kindness and understanding I might have gone mad.”
“Tell me,” he said. “Tell me everything.”
She almost refused, but something in his eyes compelled her to speak. She started slowly, but then the words fell over themselves as she opened her memories and relived the moments. She held back nothing, telling him of her fear and anger, worry and despair, and how those emotions had gradually turned to acceptance and then finally anticipation.
While she spoke, Sebastian’s hand remained tightly splayed over her belly, almost as if he were trying to make a connection with the unborn child in her womb. It was an odd feeling, comforting, yet also erotically stimulating.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t with you from the beginning,” he said.
“That was my decision.” She drew a quick breath. “Are you sorry about the baby?”
“Not precisely.”
Hardly the most enthusiastic response, but at least it was honest. She wanted to probe deeper, to learn more about what he was thinking, feeling, but the baby suddenly shifted.
Sebastian’s hand jerked away. “It moved!”
“Yes.” Eleanor smiled. “That’s been happening more and more frequently.”
Sebastian’s eyes widened. “Does it hurt?”
She shook her head. “It’s reassuring. The doctor told me that a healthy, active fetus is a good sign.”
“Hmm.” Color crept up his neck.
“Don’t tell me you are embarrassed?” Eleanor asked with a smile.
A peculiar expression flashed across his face. “If you must know, I’m feeling like a bit of a lecher.”
“Why?”
“You’re with child! In a delicate condition, a delicate state, and all I can think about is bedding you.”
“Truly?”
He groaned. “Good God, Eleanor, my desire for you has never waned, never lessened. Not once in all the months we’ve been apart.” To prove his words, Sebastian opened the front of his robe. Eleanor nearly blushed when she caught sight of his arousal, thick and heavy, straining against his breeches.
He hesitated and she realized he was waiting for her to let him know if she also desired him. Eleanor stared helplessly. She couldn’t find her tongue, couldn’t say what she wanted, since she honestly didn’t know. On one hand it was a welcome relief to know he still found her appealing, yet was she ready to accept him as her lover? Was she ready to start trusting him?
Well, she had married him. In for a penny, in for a pound. “You once told me you would honor your marriage vows of fidelity,” she said. “I will.”
“Even if we do not have carnal relations for a long, long time. Perhaps never.”
His eyes flared. “I shall be faithful and cleave only to you. I have never forced a woman into my bed in my life. I most certainly do not intend to do so with my wife, a woman I respect above all others.”
It was a good answer, delivered with a sincerity that she believed. She lowered her guard, ever so slightly, allowing herself to remember how it felt to make love with him. The strength of his kisses, the pleasure of his touch, the power of his passion.
“My desire is not as obvious as yours, yet ‘tis equally as strong. Force won’t be necessary.”
“Eleanor.” Sebastian whispered her name throatily.
She went into his arms without thinking, her hunger for him like a storm, raging and passionate. They held each other for a long time, drawing strength from the embrace, tentatively reestablishing an emotional bond. She didn’t want to think about the wrong he had done to her in the past or how vulnerable she would be if she opened her heart to him again. She wanted to believe in the good in him, in his vows of devotion, in his promise of fidelity.
Their lips met, and Eleanor clung to him, savoring the touch of his lips and wanting more. Time seemed to still as they shared long, heated kisses. Pleasure flowed through her veins. She could feel her breasts tighten and a restless heat settle between her legs. He stroked his fingers up and down her back and she leaned toward him, basking in the closeness.
Gently he pushed her robe and nightgown off her shoulders and slid the garments down over her breasts. Her nightclothes continued falling until they gathered at her ankles, leaving her naked, vulnerable.
“My darling Eleanor,” he said in wonderment. “You are so very beautiful.”
She blushed at his outrageous flattery, knowing she was at her core a plain-looking woman, yet in that moment she felt pretty, cherished. Relaxing further, she tingled with anticipation as Sebastian kissed his way along her jaw and throat, trailing kisses down to her breasts. With a groan he took a nipple into his mouth, nearly shattering her with the sensation.
He suckled and tasted until she was moaning, her fingers twined into his hair. She stretched on her toes, pushing herself closer to him as he lavished his loving attention on her, her breath heavy and uneven.
“We’d be far more comfortable in the bed,” he muttered, lifting her in his arms.
She remained silent as he carried her there, setting her in the middle of the mattress. He removed his robe and trousers, then came down on top of her, keeping his weight on his elbows. The warmth of his naked flesh was an exquisite, erotic sensation and Eleanor heard herself whimper with need.
He began kissing her again, his knowing hands caressing her until she trembled. The blood quickening in her veins, Eleanor arched into the hard length of him, feeling his hot skin, his jutting arousal. He was hard as granite and she reached lovingly between their bodies to stroke him, then pulled him toward her, urging him to complete their joining.
“Please, Sebastian,” she moaned. “I need you.”
“Whatever the lady wants,” he murmured against her lips.
He kissed her again, quick and hard, then gazed down into her eyes. Eleanor could feel his powerful thighs pressing her legs open and she forced herself to relax. He parted her with his fingers and eased into her. Gasping at the fullness, she bent her knees and twined her legs around his, pulling him in deeper.
He groaned loudly, a deep, male sound of satisfaction. A slow, deep rhythm began as he angled his body to give her the most pleasure, then drove into her, increasing the pulsing excitement between them until s
he screamed. The oncoming rush of completion overtook her, yet it was the unexpected opening of her heart that gave her the greatest pleasure.
He might have wounded her in the past, but when she was without him she had felt lost in emptiness, had retreated to the place inside herself where nothing could strike at her or hurt her. Joining with him again in this vulnerable, intimate act made her feel again, brought her back from the isolation.
Sebastian held her until she stopped shuddering, then started moving again, filling her with deep, penetrating strokes. She moaned in delight, gripping the sheet to stop herself from sliding up the bed.
She could feel his increasing urgency with each movement. His kisses grew rougher and she met him kiss for kiss. He was relentless, driving himself harder and faster and she welcomed it, hugging him tightly, straining her inner muscles to bring him release.
There was an instant of stillness before his entire body went rigid and a rush of his hot seed bathed her womb. Gradually his trembling stopped. He sighed, then slumped over her, his head coming to rest on her shoulder, his hair tickling her neck.
After a slight hesitation, she reached up and tightened her arms around him.
“Am I crushing you?” he asked in a sleepy voice.
“A little.”
Muttering a curse, Sebastian lurched upward. “You should have said something sooner. Was I too rough? Are you hurt?”
She stared at him, one eyebrow lifted. “I’m fine, Sebastian. No need for such panic.”
Sebastian scrutinized her closely, needing to assure himself that she had not suffered any ill effects from their rigorous lovemaking. Her expression was soft, not pained, her breathing calm, her eyes clear. Finally convinced she was indeed fine, Sebastian settled himself on the pillow next to her. There was a rustling of sheets and blankets as she reached for the covers, spreading them evenly over them.
“Sleep well,” he said, hoping she would turn to him.
“You too.”
He watched her adjust her position in the bed, a shot of disappointment piercing his heart when she turned onto her side to face away from him. Before long she dozed. Sebastian waited for several minutes, keen to any signs of her waking.
When he was convinced she was well and truly asleep, he moved himself into position and wrapped her in his arms. As the hours of night stretched on, he cradled her against him, a swell of possessiveness dominating all other emotions.
It felt so good to hold her again, to feel her warmth, to hear her deep, even breaths, to watch over her as she slept. His mind was no longer tortured by worry and doubt, was no longer speculating about where she was, what she was doing.
Gradually, Sebastian began to relax, the misery that had haunted him for the past few months fading, a ray of hope replacing it. Here in the cocoon of darkness without the past pressing in upon them, anything seemed possible. Including a happy life together.
With a soft, gentle touch, Sebastian nuzzled his cheek against hers, then pressed his lips to her temple. “I love you, Eleanor,” he whispered.
It was the first time he said the words aloud, and although she did not hear them, it made him feel whole expressing what was in his heart.
Whole and hopeful. Not a bad start, considering their tumultuous past, a history that stood between them so solidly they might never be able to overcome it. Yet more than ever, Sebastian was determined to try—and even more determined to succeed.
The next morning they began their journey north, to Sebastian’s new estate. Aunt Jane had elected to return to Bath and Sebastian was relieved. It was awkward enough trying to establish a relationship with Eleanor; having a critical audience observing it all was a complication he neither welcomed nor wanted.
Due to his motion sickness, Sebastian was unable to join Eleanor inside the coach he hired for the journey, yet he purposely rode beside her window whenever the width of the road allowed. Occasionally she would lower the glass and they would exchange a few words, but the arrangement was hardly conducive to meaningful conversation.
There was an unmistakable underlying tension between them when they stopped for the night that gradually escalated as the evening progressed. Though his desire to make love to her never faltered, Sebastian felt it presumptuous to assume Eleanor would welcome him in her bed and made certain their accommodations included a sitting room.
Thankfully he did not need to use it. He spent his nights making love to his wife, striving to make a connection between them that at times felt so close, but continued to elude him. Though she was passionate and enthusiastic, Eleanor seemed to be holding herself away from him, keeping a part hidden that she refused to share.
Each night he waited until she fell into an exhausted, sated sleep before cradling her lovingly in his arms. Only then was he able to achieve his own slumber.
Sebastian kept telling himself it was not a bad beginning. They were civil to each other, polite and respectful. She smiled when he joked with her, appeared interested when he discussed his plans for the various properties he owned, expressed her thanks when he saw to her comfort and needs.
It was those pleasant moments that gave him pause and kept his spirits bolstered thinking that things with his new wife would improve, that the detachment she cultivated so carefully would end. And much of the time he actually believed it.
On the afternoon of the fourth day they arrived. Sebastian pulled his mount beside the carriage after they pulled through the tall iron gates. He heard Eleanor’s gasp of surprise and followed her gaze to the sprawling house up ahead. Built during the time of Henry VIII, the mansion boasted numerous chimneys and rooftops and more rooms than one could count.
It was a charming, romantic stone facade, complete with battlements at the corners, yet as they drew closer, the neglect of the property was evident from the weed-choked drive to the dirt and grime accumulated on the diamond-shaped glass panes.
“Did the staff know of our arrival?” Eleanor asked.
“Word was sent ahead so they would not be taken unawares,” Sebastian answered, a frown creasing his brow. This was not how he wanted to welcome his bride to their new home.
Things did not improve once the rented coach rolled up to the front of the house, for there were no servants to greet them. Sebastian dismounted and handed his horse off to one of the outriders, then assisted Eleanor out of the carriage. As Sebastian was wondering if they were going to have to knock on the massive oak door to gain entrance, it opened and a petite gray-haired woman stepped out.
“Good afternoon.” Her gaze lit with curiosity and speculation.
“Hello. Are you Mrs. Ellis, perchance?” Sebastian asked, grateful to have recalled the housekeeper’s name. It was listed among the many notes sent to him about the estate by his solicitor.
“I am Mrs. Ellis. And you must be the new earl,” she answered, dropping a perfunctory curtsy. “I regret to say I cannot provide much of a welcome, but I shall try my best.”
“Are you here alone?” Sebastian asked.
“Nearly. We’ve been short-staffed for years. The earl always claimed it was a foolish waste of money paying servants when he wasn’t in residence, though those who were hired were rarely paid a decent wage. As you can see, ‘tis a very large house. I do my best, but without help …” Her voice trailed off and then she shrugged unapologetically.
“Your best is not very impressive, Mrs. Ellis,” Sebastian stated dryly.
“But I feel confident it will improve with a trained staff behind you,” Eleanor interjected, pressing herself forward. “‘Tis good to meet you. I am Lady Tinsdale.”
The housekeeper looked momentarily stunned. “I was not informed that the countess would be coming,” she said stiffly. “The manor is barely fit for a gentleman to occupy. It certainly won’t do for a lady, especially one in your delicate condition.”
“No need to fret, Mrs. Ellis. I’m far hardier than I appear,” Eleanor replied smoothly, linking her arm through Sebastian’s. He smiled. It felt good
to have Eleanor beside him.
Sebastian drew himself up. “We should like tea served in the drawing room at once and after that a tour of the house,” he declared, his voice ringing with authority. “Please see to it, Mrs. Ellis.”
As he walked through the massive oak door, Sebastian became aware of Eleanor’s fingers digging into his arm.
“Brace yourself,” she whispered. “Mrs. Ellis’s calculated expression makes me think she has planned your welcome very carefully.”
The moment they entered the house, Sebastian knew Eleanor was right. The ancient entrance hall boasted ornate plasterwork that was covered in cobwebs. The paint was faded in sections, lighter in others, indicating the areas where paintings or tapestries had once hung. The shabbiness increased as they passed through several sparsely furnished rooms before reaching a drawing room with a decidedly musty odor.
There was evidence of a hurried cleaning, but the silver was unpolished, the worn carpet dirty at the edges, the fire unlit. Hoping to dissipate the unpleasant smell, Sebastian pushed open a set of velvet drapes. Choking dust flew through the air, the motes floating in the sunbeams streaming through the mullioned windows like tiny snowflakes.
Sebastian turned at the sound of Eleanor’s sneezing, his expression grim. “Should we sack Mrs. Ellis the moment she returns?” he asked, handing her his handkerchief.
“No. Let’s wait and see how quickly she can recover,” Eleanor replied, wiping her watery eyes. “To be fair, I’m sure the earl was a neglectful, absentee employer. It is impossible to run a household of this size without an adequate, well-trained, well-paid staff. I’m sure this demonstration was intended to emphasize that point with you.”
“It has succeeded,” Sebastian acknowledged, the chair creaking as he sat down.
Tea arrived, brought by a young man with a nervous gap-tooth smile. The mundane, domestic task of having Eleanor pour and prepare a plate for him lightened Sebastian’s mood. He was hungry after their journey, though he paused a moment before taking a bite of cake, afraid Mrs. Ellis might have taken her household crusade too far and done something to the food.
A Little Bit Sinful Page 28
