by Ann Clement
“He’ll be here with the carriage tomorrow. I rode.”
Slater bowed. “Very well, sir. I shall be glad to take care of your dinner clothes.”
“No need to fuss, Slater,” Percy said, starting up the stairs. “Something simple will suffice.”
Lettie’s absence had the effect of a bucket of cold water being poured over his head, which was overheated with dreams and expectations. He had imagined opening his arms wide to greet her while she hurled herself into them with joyous laughter. It hadn’t even occurred to him that she might not be home. Stupid. Why would she not visit Mary? He had not send word ahead that he was coming. It was to be a surprise, but surprises could sometimes turn into double-edged swords.
Percy shrugged out of his riding coat on the way to his room, glad to see the footmen already carrying up the steaming buckets. He craved a bath after a day in the saddle. As soon as the footmen were gone, he removed the rest of his clothes, wincing at a waft of horseflesh scent about him, and sank into the tub, sliding down until he was submerged to the last hair on his head. It felt heavenly.
He wondered, while soaping himself, when Lettie might come back. Whoever drove her knew the roads around Bromsholme like his own hand, of course, and to the best of Percy’s knowledge, there were no highwaymen in the neighborhood—except him. He didn’t need to worry about her returning home in the dark.
Percy dove under again and, holding his breath, vigorously raked his fingers through his hair to rinse all the soap off. When done, he slid up enough to pull his head above the surface and lean it against the edge of the tub. The water was still hot, soothing his tired muscles. Percy relaxed into a semi-nap. There was nothing to rush to.
Suddenly his rest was interrupted by two hands settling over his eyes. Light breath brushed his wet cheek before soft, warm lips settled on his own. They seemed to be smiling, or perhaps it was just the impression he had, since they were busy playing with his mouth at a rather uncommon angle.
Longing, love and desire burst through him, depriving him of his breath as much as that unexpected kiss had. Percy reached out, vaguely aware of water splashing over the tub’s edge. His fingers closed around two slender wrists, soliciting a sweet, guttural sound from his assailant that blended into another smile over his lips. He put all his yearning into that kiss.
When Lettie stopped kissing him, Percy opened his eyes at last. She knelt by the tub, her face inches from his.
“Why didn’t you send a message ahead?” she asked. “I would have stayed home if I’d known you were coming back tonight.”
“The messenger wouldn’t reach Bromsholme before me.”
Letitia sat back on her heels, her face anxious.
“Oh dear,” she said. “Oh poor Mr. Wilkinson. He was so happy when your letter came the day before last.”
“Mr. Wilkinson has nothing to fear.” Percy shifted to get up and sent more waves over the edge of the tub. “There is no more threat of invasion now than there’s ever been. But it seemed a waste of time to spend another night in yet another inn rather than in my own bed—and with my own wife.”
“What an interesting notion.” The corners of her mouth turned up in an impish smile as she stood to make room for him.
Percy stepped out of the tub and reached for the towels piled on the nearby table. Goose bumps prickled his wet skin from the breeze his movement created.
Lettie took another towel from the table. “Turn around,” she said and as soon as he obliged her, began rubbing his skin vigorously. “I hope you won’t mind my having changed your orders,” she added while her hands moved from the tops of his shoulders to the expanse of his back. “I asked Slater to bring up the tray for you to my sitting room and forgo laying out your evening clothes. I think your robe will suffice as a dinner outfit in this case.”
“I don’t mind,” he assured her, as the sudden stirring of need pushed any thought of dinner aside while her hands moved now to his hips and buttocks. He reached down to dry his legs and became aware of the spongy wetness of the towels spread on the floor. Then Lettie’s wet skirts brushed his calves. “More so,” he added, “as you seem unfit to grace the dining room with your presence in your current condition.”
“What do you mean?” There was a hint of surprise in her question.
“That your skirts are a soggy mess, ma’am,” he replied, turning toward her. Lettie’s cheeks were rosy, probably from the vigorous exercise of rubbing his back. It would be presumptuous to think that she could blush at the sight of him after all those evenings he had spent posing for her.
“Oh,” she said, lifting the skirts hanging despondently from her knees down. “I suppose I will need to change.”
“Indeed. But I’m not letting a wet cat drag all this mess across my beautiful carpet,” he growled. “This dress stays here.” And to prove his point, he began to unbutton it.
“Your attachment to your beautiful carpet deserves the highest commendation,” she replied with a spurt of laughter, “but what do you suggest I should wear on my way from here to the sitting room?”
“I should not complain if you wear nothing at all,” Percy rejoined, pushing the dress off her shoulders and down her hips. He swallowed hard at the sight of two distended points pushing the thin fabric of her chemise toward him. His fingers found the ribbons holding it together. “But if you do not like my suggestion, you may avail yourself of one of my robes. I happen to own several.”
“Hmm.” She pursed her lips, allowing him to do whatever he pleased, neither helping nor stopping him. “Perhaps I will, if you let me use that sapphire-blue silk one.”
This came out a little breathless as he managed to push the chemise apart, and in the process, linger deliberately, cupping her breasts and brushing the hardened nipples with his thumbs. He’d almost forgotten how they felt, marveling at how hard and sensitive they became to his ministrations, and how beautiful were her breasts filling his hands.
“You can have any and all of them,” he managed in a strained voice, desire pounding in his blood and tightening his loins. “But not yet.” He bent down to close his mouth around one of the nipples.
Lettie shuddered. It was enough to make him decide that neither of them needed a robe. At least, not for some time to come.
“You’re dripping water like a wet dog.” She chuckled a little breathlessly, and a towel covered his head.
“Hmm,” he agreed while sinking to his knees and shifting to the other breast. Her sharp intake of air made him redouble his efforts. He suckled her stone-hard nipple while his hands were already busy removing the rest of her clothing. Skimming down her thighs, he reached the garters and undid them. Her stockings were not as wet as her skirts, but it didn’t matter.
Lettie’s hands stilled on his head when he lifted her foot to remove the slipper and the stocking while trailing wet, openmouthed kisses down her stomach. When he reached her navel and continued downward, her fingers convulsed, and the towel slid off his head.
“What are you doing?” she gasped.
“Why, preventing the destruction of my beautiful carpet,” he murmured, attempting a smile.
Lettie’s eyes shone with desire.
“Put your foot there, on the rug,” he instructed, shifting her in that direction. “Lift the other foot,” he added and returned to kissing the flat expanse of her belly. A familiar territory, but one he never got tired of. Just like the rest of her.
He began rolling down her second stocking, in the process lifting her foot higher than was strictly necessary, but thus giving himself better access to where he really wanted to kiss her. He inhaled deeply her very familiar scent, now mingling with the scent of an aroused woman.
There was a faint thump of a slipper falling on the towels, and Percy forgot about the stocking altogether once he reached the spot that muddled his thoughts beyond any coherence—and hers too, judging
by her reaction. He held her in place until her shudders subsided. His loins were on fire.
Percy rose, but before he stood completely, Lettie threw her arms around his neck and reached for his mouth. Hunger and wild, uncontrollable craving took over.
“Lettie…” he whispered hoarsely when they pulled back.
“Oh, Percy,” she ground out, reaching for him again.
He had to be inside Lettie now, without waiting. Bending lower, Percy lifted her by the thighs and impaled her, pulling her down until he could not go any deeper. His blood hammered relentlessly through his entire body. Lettie’s arms wound tightly around his neck, and her legs squeezed his hips. And the sweetest moan she breathed into his mouth increased the pounding in his veins to an almost-unbearable level, together with the incessant need to drive even deeper into her heat and softness.
“Lettie…” he begged, finding her mouth and plunging in again while his muscles shook with effort. She kissed him back like a drowning person and clenched her muscles around him.
The world dimmed.
“Lettie, my love,” he breathed into her mouth, “I cannot wait much longer.”
“Neither can I,” she groaned back. “Oh, don’t wait…”
The world that had dimmed fell away. Everything focused on her. She shuddered, her loud gasps fanning his face, and Percy let go. Nothing had prepared him for the intensity of this eruption into a million stars that somehow made him float inside great softness to the drumbeat of two hearts.
He had no idea how he managed to stagger out of the bathroom and toward his bed, with Lettie still in his arms and wrapped around him. Or how he managed to reach his bed. His muscles trembled from the effort—but so did hers. His sweet, gorgeous wife who was the most passionate lover under the sun.
They collapsed on his bed, still tangled together, facing each other. Exhausted, their chests still heaving, both seemed equally reluctant to let the other move away. Lettie held him as tightly as he held her. Lazily, she rubbed her calf along his leg. It felt silky soft as if…ah yes, the second stocking he had abandoned once the soft scent of her arousal made him forget about everything else. The forgotten stocking was still a little damp.
He grabbed her ankle and lifted her leg until her knee was almost by his shoulder. “An underhanded attempt, ma’am, to sneak in here one of those forbidden garments,” he growled. His fingers rubbed her ankle gently before he skimmed them down her calf and past the stocking, along her thigh. “The price for smuggling is a hefty one.”
A little chuckle in her throat turned into a telltale shudder when he let his fingers wander into the thatch of hair between her legs.
“How hefty, sir?” she breathed out, all astonished innocence. Her eyes rounded with expectation. “I do not know if I have enough means…”
He grinned and began rolling the stocking the rest of the way down. “That shall be determined soon, ma’am. Perhaps you shall be allowed to pay in several installments,” he continued sternly, tossing the stocking aside and massaging the soft spots behind her ankle.
“Oh,” she moaned as he began to massage her calf. “That would suit me best, sir. Please, do not delay…” Her knee fell aside, and she flexed her hips.
“It would be ungentlemanly of me to keep you waiting, despite the gravity of your offense,” he rejoined, smoothing his hand over her thigh, her skin silkier than the stocking that occasioned that silly game. He dipped his head and kissed her mouth.
Lettie took his face in both hands and kissed him back, slowly, deliberately, igniting another fire in his loins.
“I missed you,” she whispered tenderly when they broke the kiss. “Oh, Percy, I missed you so much.”
His heart suddenly squeezed itself into a tight fist. The throbbing of blood in his head somehow constricted his throat so badly he couldn’t take or expel a single breath. Perhaps this was the reason for the sudden pressure under his eyelids. He squeezed his eyes closed to prevent the droplets of moisture from dripping on her hand.
“I missed you too, desperately,” he whispered harshly when he finally managed to swallow. And I love you as desperately. He took a long, shaky breath, coming to a decision. “I need to tell you something, Lettie. I suppose—”
She put a finger on his lips.
“You suppose I know what it is? You want to tell me that you love me? Oh, Percy, I do know. Just as you know that I love you. But do not talk now.” Raising her head, she replaced her finger with a quick kiss. “Make love to me again, Percy. Show me again instead. I’m a starved woman. Starved for you.”
That was that, then. Maybe it was better to put off his confession until tomorrow and instead do what she asked of him. Show her how much he really loved her.
Percy raised himself on one elbow and gazed down at the darker shape of Lettie’s head on the white pillow. With the other hand, he touched the side of her face. His head dipped, and his mouth found hers. Her lips were parted, ready to welcome him. He was pulled into a slow, sensuous and excruciatingly tender kiss while Lettie’s fingers gently held his head as if to make sure he would not try to break away.
He only sank in deeper. His heart hammered in a mad rhythm of elation. She had missed him. Desire pulsed through him anew. He rose and came over her, taking her with him. On a small moan, Lettie eagerly submitted to the motion of his body.
He lowered himself between her parted thighs, groaned at the welcome of her rising hips and accepted the invitation. Sliding in effortlessly, Percy responded to her languid surrender with slow, calculated movements. He wanted to have this last forever, to feel nothing but Lettie’s accepting body and her eagerness for his every touch. To lose himself in her.
After more than a week’s separation, Letitia soaked up Percy’s tenderness like those towels had soaked up the water he splashed on the floor. She had told him the truth. She had missed him terribly. So when Slater informed her, as soon as she returned, that Percy was back, she shoved her reticule and the books Mary lent her into Josepha’s arms and ran upstairs, on the way telling Slater to forget about the dinner ritual, and barely noticing the knowing glance the two of them exchanged in the hallway. All that counted was that Percy was back.
Now she still tingled all over in the aftermath of their wild lovemaking that had begun in the bathroom, of all places, and turned into a silly game in his bed. She had long discovered that Percy seemed to possess some extra sense giving him an unerring ability to stoke a roaring fire of need in her. This time it had been even more. Somewhere during that mad race to fulfillment, they had become one. Her heart still beat with the amazement that their feelings had fused together as tightly as their bodies.
Letitia stretched languidly in an almost-boneless undulation to the slow rhythm Percy had set and put her arms above her head. Her hands found Percy’s, and he laced his fingers with hers. She always loved it when he held her like this, vulnerable in her openness, yet his body above hers like a shield excluding the world around them from her consciousness. The need for him, rekindled by nothing more than a little verbal sparring and his body raised above hers, overpowered her again as soon as he moved between her legs.
His mouth was on hers, possessive yet gentle. She reveled in his renewed hunger while her own insatiable craving for more of him demanded satisfaction, fueled the hunger and need matching his. The only thing that mattered was being together with him, and she shivered with some primal, felt rather than articulated, anticipation he was slowly building in her, driving her on. Bringing her inevitably to fulfillment.
And when it came, she forgot about anything that might exist except this one man with whom she was joined forever. She freed her hands from his and framed his face with them, while her world shattered to the whispered words of love.
She was home.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Letitia had planned to wait a little longer with her announcement, but the increasin
gly unpleasant bouts of nausea made her change her mind. This morning, she had barely reached her own bathroom in time to get rid of whatever her stomach decided should be returned.
Besides, Josepha had insisted for a while there was no reason to wait for more proof. Her last courses had lasted just one day, and she was now more than a week late. What better welcome-home present could she give Percy? Especially after last night. Her whole body still purred from his lovemaking.
In spite of the lingering queasiness, Letitia cheerfully hummed to herself as she skipped down the stairs and slipped into the library. She hoped Percy would be there, remembering something he had whispered in her ear when he’d gotten up long before she had.
She was not disappointed. Percy sat at the desk, the quill bobbing in his hand as he wrote in a large ledger. Without raising his head, he beckoned her with his left hand.
When she reached his chair, he encircled her waist and pulled her closer until she was almost leaning into him. His face against her bosom, his fingers moved idly over her hip.
She chuckled and ruffled his hair, then contented herself with standing in the circle of his arm while he hastily finished writing and stuck the quill in the ink stand.
“I have something to tell you.” He pushed back the chair, pulled her between his thighs and nuzzled the swell of her breasts above the bodice. “Actually, two things.”
“And I have something to tell you too,” she murmured, enjoying his attentions. “But let me hear yours first.”
Unfortunately, that meant he would stop his caresses.
“I have been very neglectful about introducing you to my family,” he said. “My aunt and uncle, who for all practical purposes were as parents to me after my father’s death, would certainly want to meet my wife. I have, of course, written them since our marriage took place, but I should like to take you to Devonshire, perhaps for a fortnight, so that you can become acquainted. We can also visit the cousin who will eventually inherit Wycombe Oaks and other Hanbury estates.”
