by Rose Gordon
Brooke nodded. Andrew had told her that much the day of their picnic. He told her something had caused his parents to live separate lives, but even he didn’t know what it was. “What happened a few months ago?” Brooke asked, knowing she had told the housekeeper she was only going to ask one question.
“The estate in Essex had to be sold. For lack of anywhere else to live, she now lives here. Not to worry, she stays on the third floor. I can’t imagine this place has any happy memories for either her or Lord Townson.”
“I see. Thank you, you may go now.” Brooke took a seat on the chair by the desk and started to think about what the housekeeper told her. Was that why he had such a distant look on his face on the way over? Did it have nothing to do with her, but rather where they were going? If that was the reason, that could easily be fixed.
Brooke walked around the room again. This time she looked out one of the windows to see the view. Directly outside was a large pond. She walked to the other window and smiled when her eyes fell on the horse stable a few hundred yards away. Maybe they could go on a ride tomorrow. A wistful smile transformed her lips as she remembered their ride and picnic earlier in the week.
Walking back to the bed, she laid down in hopes of taking a quick nap. She’d had a long night last night and a very eventful day so far.
Sometime later there was a swift rap on her door.
Rolling over, she glanced at the clock on the shelf in the corner. Was it possible she had been asleep for more than four hours?
She stood and resisted the urge to look in the mirror on her way to the door to see what a mess her hair was.
Stevens greeted her with a low bow when she opened the door. “Dinner will be served in quarter of an hour, my lady. I was asked to invite you to the drawing room until dinner is announced.”
Brooke nodded and followed him down the hall, all thoughts of the state of her hair and gown neglected. Her thoughts were now occupied with Andrew. What would he wear? Would he be glad to see her at the table? Obviously he wanted her presence or he wouldn’t have sent for her. What would they talk about at dinner? What would they do after dinner? Would he visit her room tonight? A shiver ran through her just thinking about it.
She was not disappointed when she reached the drawing room. Andrew was waiting for her by the fireplace. He was dressed up in some of the finest clothes she'd seen him wear. He wore solid black except a white shirt and an emerald pin in his white cravat. With his dark hair slicked back, he looked magnificent.
“Join me.” He gestured toward a settee next to where he stood.
“Thank you,” she murmured, looking around the room. “Is your mother going to join us tonight?”
Andrew’s head snapped in her direction at the mention of his mother. Was she not supposed to know his mother lived there? His eyes flickered with some emotion she didn’t recognize. Then he shook his head. “No, she takes her meals in her room. Have you met her?”
“No. I thought it would be best if you introduced us.”
Andrew nodded. “I'll introduce you tomorrow. Tonight, you're all mine.” His eyes held a wicked gleam.
Brooke blushed and wondered if that meant he would indeed be visiting her room tonight. She remembered his kisses and caresses from the night before and hoped he would do that again tonight. This time she wouldn’t stop him.
Andrew must have read her thoughts because he chuckled. “Like the idea of that, do you?”
Her face heated. Not knowing what else to do, she restlessly looked around the room.
They sat for only a few minutes before Stevens walked in. “Dinner is ready, my lord.”
Andrew offered Brooke his arm and together they walked into the dining room.
“For the lovely bride and her groom, only the best food in the house,” Stevens said, gesturing to the sideboard where the food was waiting for him to serve it.
Brooke had never seen such a shabby meal. Only four bland and paltry courses were served. The first was a salad made with slightly brown lettuce and soggy tomatoes, nothing else. The second course was stewed cabbage. It smelled awful and tasted worse, but seeing the size of the portions and the way Andrew was eating, she ate every bite. The third, and largest, was a potato, just a little baked potato with a small pat of butter. Dessert was the final course. It was nothing more than just a couple spoonfuls of custard.
“You weren’t jesting when you said you couldn’t afford a wife,” Brooke teased without thinking it insulting or vulgar to discuss a man’s money with him, at the dining table in his house no less.
“I tried to warn you,” Andrew said with a wry smile. “It's too late to cry off now.”
“What of an annulment?” she asked with a teasing smile.
“That’s not a possibility, I’m afraid,” he informed her. “Aside from the fact I wouldn’t agree to one as it is, you’d never be able to prove me incapable. And I’m more than content to prove to you just how capable I am within the hour.”
His innuendo and wolfish smile on his face made Brooke flush. Did he mean what she thought he did? They were going to have marital relations, whatever those were, in less than hour? How could that be? She had no idea what she was to do. Her mother never had the talk with her that she was supposed to before her wedding.
A nervous giggle ripped through her as she suddenly understood what Mama had tried to ask her earlier.
“I assure you, it’s no laughing matter,” Andrew said with a sweet smile on his lips. He scooted his chair back and came to Brooke’s side. “Lady Townson, would you like me to escort you to your room?”
Brooke understood his question held a dual meaning. There was the obvious meaning, him asking to escort her upstairs. But there was a hidden meaning as well. He was also asking her permission if he could share her bed.
“Yes,” she said nervously, biting her lip.
Andrew reached out with his thumb and ran it along her lip, causing her to release it from her teeth. “No need to be so nervous,” he murmured, then helped her out of her seat.
As they walked up the stairs, Brooke could not help but peek up at him from beneath her eyelashes. Was this how all brides felt on their wedding night? Nervous with a hint of excitement?
As they reached the end of the hall and her door was in sight, she slowed her steps, causing Andrew to slow his to match. “I know this all seems rather sudden, so if you’re not ready, we can wait,” he whispered quietly.
“I’m just nervous, that’s all.”
Andrew stopped walking and brought his hands up to her face. Cupping her chin, he bent down so his lips were so close to touching hers she could almost feel them. “I’ll be gentle. I promise.”
Then he pressed his lips to hers in such a reverent way she knew he meant to keep his promise.
His hands caressed her face, while his lips caressed her lips. “I love kissing you,” he said against her lips.
Brooke soared on hearing those words. They may not have been, “I love you,” but they were close enough. If he loved something about her, such as kissing, it was a step in the right direction to winning his love and getting him to abandon his mistress.
Brooke gasped against his mouth, his hands sliding down her body, settling against her ribs right below her breasts. She loved it when he touched her there. She couldn’t explain why, but when Andrew touched her there it felt like sparks were flying through her body.
Leaving her ribs, he moved his hands to the top of her bodice and gently tried to pull it down, exposing the very tops of her breasts.
Andrew ceased kissing her and took hold of her hand. With a small squeeze and a gentle tug, he led her to her room. When they were both inside, he shut the door with a loud thud then took her mouth again as they stumbled together to the bed.
He broke their kiss and looked at her with a consuming gaze. “You’re so beautiful, Brooke,” he rasped before he reached for her gown again and unfastened the buttons that ran down the back. With only half of the buttons undone,
he moved his hands to grip the sleeves and in one swift tug, he pulled her gown down, causing it to fall in a pile on the floor.
Brooke looked down at what clothes remained. Only a few scraps of clothing now stood in the way of her being completely exposed to his hungry gaze.
Stepping closer, Andrew grabbed the straps to her chemise and went to pull them down over her shoulders, but Brooke grabbed his wrist to stay him. “You first,” she said shakily. When he didn’t make a move to remove his hand or step back from her, she gave his chest a gentle push.
Andrew took a step back and grunted. His hands flew to his front and he quickly removed his coat, cravat, waistcoat, and shirt.
Brooke let out a gasp. She'd felt his chest before and knew he had muscles and hair all over it, but to actually see it was something different. She resisted the urge to reach out and touch him. But her resistance wasn’t very strong and soon she found herself running her hands along the hard planes of his chest and stomach, twirling her fingers into his mat of black hair that covered his chest.
Andrew groaned. “Is this good enough?” he asked in a husky voice.
“No.”
Andrew grunted again. “You’re trying to torture me. Is it because of our pitiful dinner?”
“No. I just want to see you, too.”
Andrew arched an eyebrow.
“Keep going,” she said breathlessly.
He removed his boots and reached for the buttons on the fall of his pants. In seconds, he had them undone and let them drop. He stepped out of them, peeling off his stockings as he went, leaving him clad only in his drawers. “Is this good enough now? Or do you require that I remove my smalls as well?”
Brooke didn’t answer. She couldn’t answer. She just stared at him, her mouth slightly agape and in a trance.
Andrew needed no further invitation. He stepped closer to her and ran his fingers along the crest of her collarbone and over to the straps of her chemise. Not allowing her time to protest or try to stop him, he tugged the straps so hard and fast the stitches attaching the straps to the rest of the garment ripped, leading to her chemise joining her gown on the floor.
Andrew took another step back and raked her over from head to toe with his intent gaze. There was much more of her visible now. Her stomach was bare and so was the top of her chest. She still had her drawers, stockings, and the bands she wore wound around her chest.
Without another word, he grabbed the top of the piece of cotton that was tucked into the top of her binding and unwound the first round of linen.
“Please don’t,” she said suddenly, panic creeping into her voice.
His hands froze. “Why?”
Brooke shook her head. She couldn’t say, “My breasts are actually much smaller than what they appear because I have two folded up pillow linens stuffed under these bands.” But she was going to have to say something. He was going to see them eventually, and it appeared it would be relatively soon.
“My size is not what it appears,” she said stiffly, not meeting his eyes.
“Yes, you explained that before. They’re too big for your bodices.”
“I did not say they were too big,” she corrected. “You just assumed that. Because like all other men of the world, you like to ogle ladies bosoms and the bigger the bosom, the more you ogle.”
Andrew gave her a curious look. “Then why do you bind them?”
“Because I have quite the opposite problem, thank you.”
“You think they’re too small?” he asked bluntly.
“Yes,” she conceded flatly.
“Let me be the judge of that.” Grabbing hold of the offending linen, Andrew unwound it so quickly that, try as she might, she couldn’t stop him. After two times around, there were twin thuds on the floor. Andrew reached down and picked up one of the wadded up pillow shams before tossing it down and shooting Brooke an amused glance.
Brooke felt a little relieved that at least he found some amusement in the situation. She, on the other hand, was not amused at all and her lower lip trembled. Standing in front of him thus, she honestly thought at any minute she was going to swoon, which she had never done before, but there was always a first.
The last round of linen came off and Brooke felt the cool air hit her bare breasts in one big whoosh. The cool air was quickly replaced by Andrew’s warm hands that came up to cup and shape her swollen breasts.
Her eyes flew to his face. She watched him as he swallowed and his eyes grew darker with desire.
“They’re perfect,” he rasped unevenly, giving them a gentle squeeze.
Brooke looked down and saw how wonderfully they filled his hands. They fit perfectly into his palm, slightly spilling over each time he massaged them with his fingers. She thought he would have been disappointed they weren't bigger, but his reaction to seeing them had disproved the notion and sent a flood of relief through her. She couldn’t help but smile up at him.
“Who told you something was wrong with your body?” he growled as he brushed both of her nipples with his thumbs.
“Why?” she asked tentatively. Nobody had told her there was anything wrong with her. She had eyes. She could see that most other women spilled out the top of their gowns, and she didn’t.
“Because I’m going to string him up from the nearest tree, that’s why. Your body is absolutely perfect,” he repeated. Then he dropped down to his knees and showered kisses across the tops of her breasts and the valley between them.
Brooke let go of any restraint she had left. He thought her body perfect. Who was she to argue? It would make life a lot easier not having to bind them each day.
Andrew wrapped his arm around the back of her knees and the other around her waist, then with one quick movement, he picked her up and placed her on the bed. It was only a second later that his hands were caressing her all over her body, leaving nothing that was bared untouched.
He lowered his head and drew her tender nipple into his mouth. She gasped at the warm sensation. Nothing they had done so far could have prepared her for what she was feeling now. Just when she felt it couldn’t get any better, he circled it with his tongue then gently nipped the tip.
Her body relaxed into a boneless mass and she closed her eyes to better savor the sweet sensations Andrew’s hands and mouth were sending through her body. She let out a nervous sigh when his fingers reached into the slit in her drawers and ran along the crease between her leg and her most intimate area.
“Just relax,” Andrew whispered as his fingers moved to lightly dance through her curls.
His mouth left her chest, where he had been kissing a slow trail down her sternum, and met her mouth. Stilling his fingers, he pressed his mouth to hers and took full control of her lips. She let out a soft moan when his lips left her mouth and kissed a hot path down to her jaw. He ran his tongue along the ridge then moved down to kiss her neck, causing Brooke to shiver in excitement.
Descending down her body, his mouth reached her nipple and he took it into his mouth, gently suckling while his fingers left her curls and trailed along her soft stomach, circling her naval and leaving a hot, searing sensation in their wake.
Dipping lower, his fingers lightly skimmed over her mound and found their way to her swollen, aching flesh. He massaged her there, causing her ache to grow into an intense throb. Finding her wet, silky opening, they both groaned when he slipped his finger inside, filling the part of her that ached with need for something more. She didn’t know exactly what it was aching for, but Andrew did.
Rhythmically, he moved deeply in and out, building something deep inside her she couldn't describe.
His pace increased, as did her pleasure. She let out another groan when he added a second finger.
Suddenly, Brooke’s legs felt like they were being licked by fire and her mind was spiraling away from reality. Then her whole world exploded. All the pressure that had built up released in a flood and her whole body tensed then completely relaxed, leaving her with a very content feeling.
A few moments passed before she was able to bring herself to meet Andrew’s gaze. “Did you intend to do that?” she asked dully.
“Yes, it was my intention,” he said honestly with a self-satisfied smile.
“If I had known that was the result of you reaching in my drawers, I might have let you last night” “I doubt it would have been nearly as enjoyable if either Gateway or Lady Algen happened upon us doing that.”
Brooke scrunched her nose up and giggled. “No, I don’t suppose it would have.” Brooke met his eyes again. “Is that all? Was that the marital act?”
Andrew gave her a puzzled look. “No. Didn’t your mother explain it to you?”
“No,” Brooke said shyly. Oh, how she wished she had known what Mama was talking about earlier this afternoon. Then she wouldn’t be such a ninny now.
“There’s more,” he said raggedly, tracing a lazy pattern across her thighs.
Brooke reached out and touched his face tenderly then grinned. “Well, what are you waiting for? I’m ready.”
Andrew threw his head back and let out a bark of laughter. “That’s good, because if you weren’t, I was going to have to excuse myself to go bathe in that pond out there.”
Brooke had no idea what he was talking about and was about to ask when he rendered her speechless by laying her back down and literally ripping off her drawers and stockings.
Her hands refused to be idle and freely roamed his body. She dug her fingers into the hair on his chest, twisting and twirling it. Then she moved them to feel the chorded muscles in his shoulders and neck. Except that statue at the museum, she had never seen or felt a man’s body before, and this was an experience she thought she could enjoy doing for the rest of her life. But then he pulled away from her touch and stood up.
Her eyes traveled down his standing body, stopping where his hands were working at the strings of his tented drawers. Then they dropped.
Her eyes were fixed on the part of Andrew that had just been revealed like it was a novelty in a curiosity shop.
