by Rose Gordon
He lowered his eyelids and removed his hands from her as if the simple task took every ounce of strength he possessed.
“Is something amiss?”
“No,” he said, his voice quiet and strained. “But if I don't stop myself now, you might not get a fair opportunity.”
“A fair opportunity?”
His only response was to step out from behind her and to the side. His fingers which had been so nimble only a minute ago worked jerkily at removing his coat and cravat. Discarding the items, he kicked off his shoes and untucked his shirt. Regina's mouth went dry. He meant to remove all of his clothes for her. That was the opportunity he must have meant.
She tried not to stare at him while he pulled his shirt over his head. She had seen his bare chest only yesterday—had slept on it the night before, in fact. That didn't matter. She still wanted to see it again. She loved the way his honey colored skin was such a stark contrast to the white linen shirt he was removing. Now that they were in better lighting and she wasn't embarrassed about her own appearance, she could take him in and soak up the details of his chest. It was wide and muscled with a small patch of curling hair that ran down the center toward his equally muscled stomach.
Edward's arms suddenly appeared, blocking her view of his abdomen. Her gaze dropped lower, his hands were on the fastenings of his breeches. As was her habit when nervous, she absentmindedly bit her lip. She'd long been curious about the part of him that had been inside her, but decorum and fear he'd lose respect for her had kept her tongue quiet. Now she wouldn't have to shame herself and ask.
He undid the last button and gripped the tops of his breeches, then with one swift tug they were down, exposing his thick, rigid length that jutted out from a mass of thick, light brown hair. So many questions filled her mind, including several of the scientific variety even, but now clearly wasn't the time to ask him. They could wait for later, the demands of their bodies, it would seem, couldn't.
Edward took a step closer to her, and placed her hands at the top of his shoulders. “Touch me wherever you wish.”
She didn't know where she wished and hoped this would not be her only invitation to touch him thus. Her tentative fingers traced the muscles in his shoulders, chest, and abdomen, noting how the skin was soft and smooth over the hard planes.
With a hint of reluctance, she brought her hands back to her sides.
“Perhaps you'll wish to continue your exploration later,” he murmured, coming to stand behind her so that she could feel his strong body against hers. Then he moved his hands back to those straps and slid them to the sides of her shoulders. A chill ran through her as the soft fabric of her chemise slid down her excited body. In a matter of seconds, she'd be standing naked in front of her husband. He took his time lowering her chemise until his arms were extended toward the floor as far as they could go, then he dropped it to join her gown and stays at her feet.
He placed his callused hands on the outside of her thighs and moved them up her body in tandem. She thought her heart might beat right out of her chest as his hands made it up to her shoulders without stopping then slid to the plane of her chest.
Against her ear, his breathing grew more labored. He lowered his hands, his long blunt tipped fingers and wide palms moving over the pebbled peaks of her breasts and coming to rest beneath them, each one filling his cupped hand perfectly. Her eyes locked with his in the mirror. What did he plan to do now?
He gave her breasts a soft squeeze with his fingers and then moved his hands toward her waist. He didn't intend to touch her there did he? Even she didn't do that unless necessary. He combed his fingers once through the top of the brown triangle of hair that covered her most intimate area then moved his hands to her hips.
“Turn around.” His command was broken, raw.
She turned to face him, her breasts pushing against his stone hard chest.
He lifted his hands to her face, framing it. His warm lips met hers. This time his kiss wasn't gentle and sweet, but demanding. She came up on her toes and wound her arms around his neck.
His hands left her face and descended back to her hips. Breaking the kiss, he lifted her into the air and carried her to his bed. Easing her backward, he joined her on the bed. His eyes did a long, thorough sweep of her from her head all the way down to her toes. Were he not in the same state of undress and exposed to her, too, she'd have felt mortified and vulnerable. Instead, his body was just as open to her to see every reaction he had to her.
He slid his hands from her hips down to the center of her thighs, caressing her skin as he went. Gently, he urged her legs apart. She swallowed her nerves. This was Edward; there was nothing to be shy about. Gradually, she relaxed her legs, letting her knees fall open and exposing her last secret to him.
He moved his fingers up the insides of her thighs and she trembled at his touch. She shut her eyes, no longer able to watch what he was doing or the hunger in his eyes. His upper body moved closer to hers, his right hand still moving higher until finally it reached the apex of her thighs. Her body bucked as he trailed his thumb down the slope of her hip then through her feminine curls. Then again when he reached lower to where a demanding ache had recently built. He applied pressure against her sensitive flesh with his fingers, sending sparks of excitement flying through her. He rubbed her again, applying even more pressure this time.
Instinctively, her hands flew to his shoulders and gripped them to help keep her steady. Edward's teasing fingers moved lower, offering her more excitement with each movement.
Her mind was still trying to make sense of exactly what he was doing and why it would affect her so, when Edward slipped two of his fingers into her and she gasped. All thoughts of making sense of anything were gone as he moved in and out of her, eliciting the same enjoyable sensations he'd created in her abdomen when they used to couple. Except this time it was different. The sensations were more intense, his movements more direct and with purpose, her body was more responsive to him as an inner pressure threatening to devour her body doubled with each of his thrusts.
Edward's lips found her neck, leaving a warm kiss to mark the spot before descending the plane of her chest to her left breast. His fingers keeping a steady movement, he moved his mouth to the crest of her breast and closed his lips over it. That was her undoing. The inner dam that had been holding back all the pressure burst, and with it came a flood of relief as her body tensed and her muscles contracted and released on their own accord.
“What just happened to me?” she asked in between shallow breaths.
Edward removed his hand from between her legs. “I'll explain it another time. I'd hate to ruin a moment as good as this one with my boring science talk.” He placed his forearms on each side of her face and positioned himself in between her parted legs. “Instead, I'd rather see if I can make it happen for you again.”
Yes. That's what she wanted, too.
He positioned himself at her entrance then pushed in, filling and stretching her like she'd never remembered from before. He moved on top of her, slow and steady, rekindling that inner fire that had not long ago been an inferno of flames. As his speed increased, so did her grip on his shoulders. Her fingernails were biting into his skin, but she was powerless to stop them as each time he moved, she was pushed closer to her limit.
And then she reached her tipping point again and from her head down to her toes waves of the unknown washed over her. Through the fog of her delirium, she watched as Edward's jaw stiffened, followed by his shoulders which she still held, then he stilled over her and his guttural shout of release filled the air.
A moment later, he rolled them to the side, bringing her head to rest against his damp chest.
Regina bit the inside of her lip to keep from ruining the moment by telling him that she loved him and instead let herself fall asleep to the quick beat of his heart against one ear, his heavy breathing in the other,
and the dream that perhaps one day he would come to love her in her heart.
~Chapter Twenty-Nine~
Edward didn't know which was worse: falling asleep next to the woman who'd just whispered she loved him when he didn't love her back or falling asleep next to the woman you now loved, who didn't love you back. One of life's little unpleasantries, to be sure.
Who knew, in his attempt to spend more time with her and make amends for everything, he'd be the one who fell in love?
Perhaps winning her love, and not just her affections, would be the next thing he'd do.
“You look as if you've just been handed an unsolvable equation and told, unless you solve it, you'll lose everything you hold dear in life.”
He brushed a lock of her silky hair from her forehead. “Nothing so important,” he said evasively. Damned if he'd be reduced to a lovesick fool like Father, begging his wife to love him. He'd win it or not have it at all.
She brought her hand to his chest and twirled her fingers in his little patch of chest hair. “Edward, as I said last night, I'm really sorry about the drawing room. The decorations weren't supposed to arrive for another week, and I'd planned to tell you before then.”
“Is this that really important matter you tried to discuss twice with me?”
She nodded, her silken hair tickling his chest.
“I thought it might be.”
“I wanted to be honest with you.” She sighed. “Actually, that's not true. At first, I tried to hide it. After I'd beaten you at tennis and we made our truce, I felt so bad about what I'd done out of spite that I went back to Mr. Willis' shop and tried to cancel my purchases. He refused, saying it was too late, I'd already signed the ledger, and he'd already placed the order. Then, when you returned to Eton a day later with John and Lord Sinclair, I went to my father.”
“Your father?” he repeated. A knot formed in his stomach. Nothing good could have come from that visit.
“Yes. I asked him to loan me the money so I could pay Mr. Willis back for the charges so you wouldn't be charged for them and to ask him to sell the furniture in his store. It was the best arrangement I could think of. I'd owe my father my pin money for the next year, but at least you'd never know what I'd done.”
“I see. But your father wouldn't lend you the money?”
“No. He would, but only if I solicited ten invitations for him.”
Edward's chest constricted. Had she finally learned her worth and stood up to the awful man? “And you told him no, I presume.”
“Of course, I did. I don't know enough ladies of rank to meet his demands. And the terms of agreement he wanted me to sign stated if I failed to meet his demands, the number would increase to twenty invitations by the end of next Season. I couldn't commit to that.”
He sighed. She'd stood up and told him no, but not for the right reason. How much more would it take for her to realize her own value? He sighed again. “Truly, Regina, I'm not angry about the drawing room. I never was.”
“I don't know how you can't be. Not only did I spend a small fortune that I couldn't get refunded when I went to speak to the proprietor, but it was delivered right before your important meeting.” She sat straight up, which was a pleasant sight to behold, indeed. “Your guests aren't due to arrive for another four hours. We still have time to have the furniture and curtains removed and replaced with the things in the attic.”
He waved her off and pulled her close to him. For as much as he enjoyed seeing her full, naked breasts, he enjoyed them pressed against him more. “I don't care about the gentlemen seeing that room.”
“Well, I do.”
“Don't. If anyone says something, I'll tell them I did it if it bothers you so much.”
“Either you didn't find that gruel to be as gut wrenching as I did, or you really enjoy my company.”
He laughed. If only you knew. “While we're on the topic of being truthful, tell me, would it bother you if I host more meetings like this one here at Watson Estate?”
“No. Why?”
He forced a shrug. “Well, if all goes well today, I'll need to host a breakfast to which Lord Edgewood is invited so I can extend him an official invitation of the society. Would that be an imposition for you?”
“Not at all. Would I need to make similar arrangements for the breakfast I'm hosting next week?”
“Yes. Exactly the same. You could even use the same plans, if you'd like.”
Regina cast him a queer look. “Very well. I shall endeavor to follow Lady Brazzel's orders and do my very best to please my baron by entertaining his scientific friends.”
“I don't want you to feel obligated to host a breakfast for a group of men whose only ambition in life is to solve complex mathematical equations or look at parts of plants under a microscope in hopes of making a new discovery,” Edward explained with a frown.
“I don't, I'm hosting it for you.”
He wanted to groan. “You don't have to. Your duty isn't to be trampled under my feet.”
“Then why did you ask me to host it?”
“Because I wanted your opinion. Your permission.” How hard was it for her to understand he wasn't like her father? He didn't think of her as an object, but a person. “I know this might be difficult for you to understand since your father pushes his demands on you, but you have a choice. You just have to make it. Nobody else can do it for you. It has to be you.”
She eyed him curiously. “And I've made my choice. I'll host the breakfast, not because it's my duty as baroness as outlined in Brazzel's Instructions for Baronesses, but because I want to.”
“Very well, but don't start any planning until you're done with the one you're hosting next week.”
“All right.”
“Good.” He ran his open palm along her bare side. “But for now, I have other plans for you.”
***
As he'd hoped, the meeting went wonderfully. Even with Lord Sinclair's unsolicited attendance, he'd still gained enough signatures to officially form the society.
“Why did you come today, Joseph?” Edward asked after everyone else had made their exit. “I thought you were retiring to the country for the remainder of your Season to be with your wife during her confinement?” Not to mention his dislike for all things science.
“Were she increasing, that is exactly where I'd be.” He fell into the orange chair Regina had purchased for the drawing room. “Aside from the grand image of this room assaulting my eyes, at least the chair is comfortable.”
“I quite agree,” Edward said, plopping down into the yellow one. “Now, what is this about your wife not increasing?”
“Confounded woman; apparently she was three days past due for her courses and assumed she was breeding.”
Edward nearly laughed at the absurdity. Lady Sinclair might have the more desirable family background, but in every other way, Edward had made a far better match than his friend. “Not to worry, Joseph. There's still plenty of time.”
“Yes, I know I have plenty of time. It's she who should be worried.”
“About your visits becoming more frequent?”
“No, that I might throttle her if she pulls any other stunt like this one. Do you know that for two weeks, I had to cater to her every call and whim.”
“As opposed to doing that for only one week?”
The sound of Lord Sinclair's teeth grinding filled the air.
Edward stood up and straightened his coat. He had somewhere to go today and didn't care to delay his plans in favor of listening to more nonsense concerning Lady Sinclair and her manipulations. “Allow me to pass on some words of wisdom a good friend of mine once shared with me: you're too nice to her. You’re the lord and she's the lady. You need to give her a task and explain to her how important it is for her to fulfill it. That's what she expects.”
Joseph lifted his e
yebrows and waved his open hand around the room. “I see how well that worked out for you.”
“Actually, the advice I received that day worked out well, indeed. Perhaps you'd be best served to heed it, too.”
“I think not. Accepting advice from a fourteen year-old boy is preposterous!”
Edward shrugged and snatched up his hat. “Suit yourself, Joseph. It's you who has to live with her, not me.”
~Chapter Thirty~
Regina turned her head to avoid John's curious gaze as he passed her while leaving the dining room. She nearly groaned in frustration. It would seem Mr. Willis' had sent the last of her deliveries: the newly upholstered dining chairs, each chair a different style with a different color fabric covering the cushion.
She sank into the blue one on the end. Despite her urging for the servants to remove their new furnishings and bring other pieces down from the attic, Edward had refused, saying he liked the new pieces. For seven days, she tried this, and now it was too late to do anything about it for her guests would be arriving in less than two hours.
“There you are,” Edward said, walking into the dining room. He sat in the vacant chair next to her. “You're not nervous, are you?”
Regina looked around at all the mismatched chairs in the dining room. “No, Edward. Not at all.”
He wagged his finger at her and tsk, tsked. “I do hope you're not lying to me. I should hate to have to ask Cook to serve gruel at your breakfast.”
“You're insufferable, did you know that?”
“Yes.” He took her hand in his. “What is there to be nervous about?”
Regina stared at him. What wasn't there to be nervous about? “This abominably decorated house, to start with.”
He shrugged. “Have you forgotten what you read in Brazzel's Instructions for Baronesses?”
She rolled her eyes. “That's not even a real book.”
“But it should be. That always pleasing the baron bit seems to be very important. It should go into print.”
