by Lucy Monroe
He parted the curtains slightly and spied his wife speaking to a chambermaid. It appeared that she was supervising the filling of a tub near the fire. He smelled bacon. His stomach rumbled. He waited until the maid left and Belle had bolted the door before throwing back the curtain and rising from the bed.
“I take it the bath is for me.” She had already dressed in a fashionable carriage dress of Bishop’s Blue.
She spun around. “You are awake.”
He did not think she needed an answer.
She didn’t. “I have already had my bath.”
He felt keen disappointment that he had not been able to watch his wife bathe. Ah well, they had a lifetime of such pleasures.
“I do not know which you would prefer first, your breakfast or your bath. I fear your breakfast will grow cold if you bathe first and the bath if you eat first.” She chewed on her lower lip as if the problem were insurmountable.
“Perhaps you could feed me while I bathe.”
Her eyes lit up. “That is just the thing.”
He laughed. “’Twas merely a jest, Belle. I dinna expect you to feed me.”
“I think, yes, I think I would like to feed my naked husband in the bath. It would be a novel experience.” She looked like she was contemplating some new delicacy.
He wanted to laugh again, but could not. The idea was too tempting. He shrugged.
“If you like.”
She smiled radiantly at him. “I think I shall like it very much.” She tapped her chin, as if in thought. “I believe I should like a promise that you will do the same for me in the future.”
The picture of his wife’s luscious body in the bath caused a stirring below his waist.
“Aye, you have my word.”
She clasped her hands. “Well?”
He quirked his brow. “What?”
“Shouldn’t you get in the tub?”
His wife had little inhibition about his naked body. He amended that thought as it struck him that although she conversed freely with him, she had kept her eyes firmly fixed on his face. She was full of contradictions.
God willing, he would have a lifetime to figure her out. He walked over to the tub and stepped into the steaming water. He sank down and groaned with pleasure at the feel of the hot water on his lower limbs.
Belle moved a chair next to the tub and sat with a plate of breakfast. They said a quick blessing and then Ian began to wash. She fed him a strip of bacon, sharing it with him. He took a bite and then she took one. Every time he bit down on the bacon, he remembered that Belle’s lips had just touched the same spot. It was one of the most erotic experiences he had ever had. By the time she had shared three strips of bacon and a piece of toast with him, he was hard and throbbing.
“I dinna think I can take any more, lass.” He almost strangled on the words as his wife licked some butter from her lips.
“Are you full? I must admit that I am ravenous this morning.”
“I am hungry, wife, but not for food.”
Her eyes finally traveled his body and he felt pure male satisfaction at the look of wonder on her face. “Oh. I believe we will have to forego the rest of your breakfast until after your bath.”
She jumped up and scurried over to look out the window. His laughter followed her.
He finished bathing in quick time. Without the temptation of his wife, his body settled down. She kept her face averted while he dressed.
It made him want to laugh again. “’Tis all right to look at your husband, Belle.” She nodded, but did not turn around. “Yes, of course, Ian.” He finished tying his cravat. “You can turn around now.” She did so and the look of warmth in her eyes as they met his almost sent him to his knees. He had gone to London to find a woman to meet the requirements of his stepfather’s will. He had found far more. He had found a treasure.
“Shall we go? I have already instructed the innkeeper to prepare our carriage.”
She certainly was not shy about taking charge. “You have?”
“Yes. I am eager to reach home. There are still several days left in our journey. I did not wish to waste this one hanging about the inn.” He liked the fact that she already saw Graenfrae as her home. “Then let us be off.” She asked, “How long until we get to Lansing Hall, Ian?” His gut clenched. He would have to tell Belle about Jenna and his brother, the current Earl of Lansing. “We should reach there in three days time.” Three days to unlock the silence that had lasted for two years. He hoped it would be enough.
Chapter Twenty
Annabelle worried her lip.
Ian’s posture on the seat opposite resembled the Elgin Marbles. He behaved nothing like the man who had spent the three previous days teasing her, talking to her and kissing her in the carriage as they traveled north.
She had tried several times to draw him into conversation, but he would not be drawn. Even her attempts at flirting had fallen flat. True, she had little experience in the matter, but it should not be so difficult to get the attention of a man who had been unable to keep his hands off of her for three solid days.
Should it?
Feelings of insecurity plagued her. Could he be bored with her already? She sighed.
“Are we near Lansing Hall?”
His eyes narrowed with irritation. “’Tis the third time you have asked that, lass.” She lifted her shoulders and let them fall in a delicate shrug. “I will probably ask several more times until we get there. It appears to be the only question you deign to answer and I grow weary of the silence.”
“I dinna ken you expected to be entertained every moment.” He crossed his legs, his calf brushing hers. Despite her annoyance with him, her body reacted immediately. Gooseflesh rushed up her legs. She had to stop herself from rubbing her calf against his. He appeared oblivious to the touch.
“I do not expect to be ignored.”
“I told ye before, Belle, I dinna want to spend my time catering to a woman’s whims.
Surely ye can stand a few hours of silence in a carriage.” Stung by his words, the insecurity she felt intensified.
He had said that, but for the last three days he had treated her with nothing but consideration. It made her angry. Marriage to Ian had been a risk. She had taken it willingly.
She loved him.
How dare he tire of her after only three days of married life? She was his wife, not a nuisance. She gave him a fulminating stare.
“I can tolerate any amount of silence necessary.” She spoke with dignity and then whispered under her breath. “It is a great improvement over conversing with a faithless and stubborn husband who treats me as a nuisance.” She had not whispered quietly enough.
“Faithless?” His roar deafened her. “In what way am I faithless, wife?” He made the term “wife” sound like an insult and right now she felt like it was.
“Fickle, then.”
He glared at her. “What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?” She glared right back. “Do not curse at me.” She would not be intimidated when her heart was busy breaking. “I mean exactly what I say. You cannot keep your affections fixed on one woman for more than three days of married life.” His body tensed as like a coil, ready to spring.
She ignored his anger and pressed on. “Had I known you were so easily bored, I would never have married you.”
His first reaction had been mild compared to the look of fury that suffused his features now. “Ye regret marrying me?”
Without any warning, he lunged across the carriage seat and pulled her into his arms.
“That is too bloody bad. We are married and ’tis for life.” He then settled his mouth on hers in a punishing kiss. She struggled against him, but he held her too tightly to break away. His mouth demanded a response and she was helpless to withhold it.
She berated herself even as she softened against him. Sliding her arms around his neck, she kissed him back. The moment her hands touched him, he gentled the kiss. He moved his lips over her cheek and down her
neck. Shivers of sensation shot through her.
“Ye belong to me, Belle, now and forever.”
He was back to being possessive. She would have made him aware of his inconsistency, but she could not speak. His mouth covered hers again. He coaxed her lips apart and slipped his tongue inside. Flicking his tongue against hers and withdrawing it over and over again, he teased her.
Somewhere in the last few moments his fury had given way to passion. Her own senses were already ignited. She moved against him, restless for more of his touch. He did not disappoint her. Sliding his hands around her back, he undid the tapes on her traveling gown. The fabric slipped down and exposed her breasts. His hands took full advantage, touching her intimately. As her nipple peaked against his palm, he gave a pleasure-filled sound.
Breaking away from her mouth, he trailed hot kisses down to her breast and took her already taught nipple into his mouth. Annabelle came apart. He had barely begun touching her and she felt on the verge of release. She did not understand it.
“Ian, I need you.”
He gave a harsh laugh. “So, in this ye do not regret marrying me.” She wanted to yell at him. She wanted to explain that she did not regret marrying him at all. She wanted him to tell her why he had been so cold. She tore at his breeches instead. He helped her and soon his ready manhood sprang free. He was not cold now.
His heat made her burn.
She tried to lie down on the seat and pull him on top of her. He would not let her.
Frantic to feel him inside of her, she gripped his hard manhood and squeezed.
He groaned, but he still did not allow her to lie down.
She did not know what to do. This was different than anything they had done previously. He had teased her and touched her in the carriage, but she knew that right now she had to have him inside of her. “I only regret the time you are taking to fill me.” He looked into her eyes and smiled. “Then I must take care of your needs, lass.” With two lithe movements, he lifted her leg to straddle him and slid inside of her damp heat. She cried out his name at their joining. Her last coherent thought was that he was definitely not bored with her. She rocked back and forth against him, seeking release from the torrent of sensation in her body.
She began to tighten and Ian fastened his lips over hers. His mouth swallowed her scream as she convulsed against him. Ian continued thrusting and she did not think she could stand it. Then he exploded inside of her and she went limp.
Her head rested against his snowy white shirt. She took deep shuddering breaths.
“Did I hurt you? Belle, I dinna mean to hurt you.” Ian’s voice was laced with concern.
She did not know what he was talking about and then she tasted the salt of tears. She was crying. “You did hurt me, but not just now. That is not why I am crying.” He gently caressed her cheek, wiping away the tears. “Then why are you crying?” She took a gulp of air and let it out slowly. “I don’t know.”
“Then how do you ken ’tis no because I hurt you?” She did not wish to discuss the logic of her tears. She snuggled against him and felt his manhood jolt in response. He was still embedded in her heat and she reveled in the sensation of oneness they shared. “This is very strange, is it not?”
“What?”
“We are both clothed and yet you are inside of me. Although my breasts are naked, your cravat is still tied in a perfect knot. I am on top of you and you are sitting up. I did not realize that lovemaking could be so flexible.” His laughter held none of the harshness it had moments before. “Aye, ’tis flexible.
There are many more ways to make love, Belle.” She smiled against his shirtfront. “Will we try them all, do you think?”
“Aye. We have a lifetime.” He spoke with fervency and then waited, tense, for her to reply.
“Yes, we do.”
He relaxed. She rubbed her fingers across the lapel of his traveling coat. “Ian, I did not mean that I did not want to be married to you.” He rubbed her back. “I ken.”
The carriage went over a rut and she bounced against Ian. He groaned and pulled out of her. She did not move from her intimate position, however. “Ian?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you think I am wanton? I do not believe that Diana has ever done this sort of thing with Robert.”
“’Tis no matter. I like this sort of thing and you are my wife.” She couldn’t help smiling at the arrogance in his voice. “Then you do not think I am wanton?”
He pushed her back until their gazes met. His eyes were dark with some mysterious emotion. “If you are wanton, you are that way only with me. ’Tis a blessing to me, Belle.
You make my life more than duty. You give me pleasure.” More than duty. It was a nice start in her campaign. She smiled ruefully. Clearly kissing would not be enough in her battle to prove to Ian that he could love her. She did not mind. The extra strategy was very pleasurable. She determined then and there that if it took wanton behavior, she would be as wanton as they came to show her husband that he needed her and no other.
She squirmed against him. Her legs were growing cramped. He understood and lifted her until she sat next to him, tucked into the curve of his arm. The exhaustion from their lovemaking and the sway of the carriage lulled her to a drowsy state.
“Belle, there is something I need to tell you.”
“Hmm?”
“Remember, I was engaged once before?”
“Yes.” She covered her mouth as a yawn escaped. “You told me that she betrayed you.”
“Her name is Jenna and she is married to my brother, the Earl of Lansing.” Every bit of stupor vanished. Annabelle shot up next to Ian. “She betrayed you with your own brother? Ian, that is terrible. No wonder you did not want them to come to the wedding.” She thought for a minute. “You are taking me to meet them. Why? Have you forgiven them their betrayal?”
“I dinna ken. All I do ken is that if I had married Jenna I would not have found you.” Annabelle felt her throat constrict. “Ian.” She threw her arms around him and kissed him soundly. He responded by locking his arms behind her back and returning her kiss with overwhelming intensity.
Somehow she would help this proud and loyal man find peace with his family.
She pulled back, breathless from the kiss. Her self-assurance restored by their lovemaking and his confidences, she sought to tease him. “I may require you catering to my whims and providing entertainment on long carriage rides.” He gave her a wicked grin. “I’ll entertain you this way any time you like, lass.” She felt a blush start up her neck and burn in her cheeks. So much for being utterly wanton. “What happened?”
Ian did not appear disconcerted by her rapid jumping of topics. “Jenna was the daughter of one my neighbors. She showed compassion for her father’s tenants. I thought she would make a good wife.”
Jenna was also beautiful. She dreaded the answer, but could not stop herself from asking the question. “Did you love her very much, Ian?” He shook his head. “Nay. I dinna love her at all. I told you that before.” He had, but she needed to hear him say it again. “You loved your brother.”
“Aye.”
“You trusted them both and they betrayed you.” His eyes darkened with some painful memory. “I caught them kissing in the garden.” She felt an icy sense of unreality. For a man with Ian’s fierce loyalties this would have been a devastating blow. “What did you do?”
“I wished them happy, announced to my family that we wouldna suit and went home to Graenfrae.”
“Your brother married Jenna.”
“Aye. My family believed that he was nobly stepping in to cover my lack of honor in breaking the engagement.”
She could not believe it. “Did you never tell anyone the truth?” She already knew the answer. A man like Ian would not sully his beloved brother’s name.
“Nay.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. “Ian, you are incredible. Is it any wonder I love you so much?” He shuddered und
er her touch. Bending his head to kiss her, he demanded, “Say it again. Your pledge means so much.”
She smiled against his lips. “I love you, Ian, now and forever.” Only a tiny part of her heart sighed when he did not return her pledge. One skirmish at a time.
Ian did not protest when Belle insisted on stopping at an inn and refreshing herself.
Her crushed gown and the tendrils of hair escaping from her chignon attested to their
recent occupation in the carriage. He did not want her to be shamed by her appearance in front of his family.
They left the inn after Belle had changed into a Capucine traveling dress trimmed in deep brown braid. The dark orange tone startled him at first, but he could not deny that it highlighted the gold flecks in her hazel eyes. Neat curls framed her face under her poke bonnet.
He found it almost impossible to believe that this was the same woman who had come apart so passionately in his arms as the coach rocked northward. Her gloved hands were folded demurely in her lap. ’Twas as if she would no more lift her skirts in a moving carriage for her husband than she would walk down St. James street for the dandies and beaus to ogle.
She showed no sign of unhappiness at his earlier conduct. He still found it unbelievable that he had taken such complete leave of his senses. His only excuse was the terrible rage that swept through him when she said she regretted marrying him.
He had submitted to the desperate need to prove her false. In the process, the terrible numbness that characterized a visit with his family was gone.
She had done that for him. His generous and loving wife had dispelled the demons that plagued him at the prospect of seeing his brother. The betrayal no longer lay like a stone in his gut. There was no room with the new feelings his sweet wife inspired.
The carriage stopped in front of Lansing Hall. As he stepped out, he thought how little the huge house had changed. Its stone façade was still covered with ivy and the imposing steps leading to the front door were as always swept and pristine.
