Marriage with a Proper Stranger

by Karyn Gerrard

  Sabrina reentered the parlor and set a hearty meal before him. Mittens meowed loudly, no doubt smelling the food. Riordan reached down and scratched the kitten on the head. “How is Mittens fitting into your routine?”

  “We’re managing well. You were correct.”

  “About?”

  “Nothing like having a pet curled up beside you as you read. It is how we passed part of the afternoon.”

  “Were you reading Wuthering Heights?” he asked.

  “No. It’s a book Mary gave me, The Bold Seduction of Miss Featherstone. Perhaps we can read from it when we’ve finished our meal.”

  Bold seduction? Sabrina was full of surprises.

  “Excuse me, Mittens is insisting I serve her next.” Sabrina disappeared, and when she returned she carried her own plate, then lowered a smaller one to the floor, which the kitten immediately ran for.

  Sabrina chuckled at the feline’s enthusiasm. Taking her seat, Riordan took in her flushed, happy face. He’d never seen her like this. Relaxed. Content. “I cut up a little chicken, mixed with potatoes I mashed with a fork, a little squash, and water. Look how she is devouring it.”

  Riordan took a bite of his own food. “I agree with Mittens. Delicious.”

  During most of the meal, they exchanged small talk. He told her of his afternoon as a little smile curled about her lips.

  Pushing his empty plate away, he said, “You wished to talk? May I ask about what? Or would you rather we read first?”

  Sabrina dabbed her mouth with a napkin and laid it on top of her plate. “Talk first. Last night, I mentioned that I used to find a man in an aroused state abhorrent. I’m ready to tell you why, because I want you to understand about my past, and perhaps then you will be willing to discuss yours.” He winced inwardly at the direct hit.

  “The marriage to Pepperdon was arranged. I was eighteen, innocent beyond measure, with no mother or female relative to give me any instruction on what to expect on the wedding night.” Sabrina sighed. “Who could I turn to? Not my father, though he barked I must submit to my husband in all things. I was not given a season, and as a result, my experience with men was nonexistent. The marriage took place within ten days of my first meeting Pepperdon.”

  “Good God,” Riordan said. He didn’t like the direction of this, for he had an inkling of what would come next.

  “Imagine my disappointment at finding a gray-haired man of fifty-five years waiting to greet me. The earl had a pleasing enough face, along with a slight paunch and hair thinning on the top. My father wished me to marry this peer; how could I say no? If he was kind, we might tumble along well enough. Or so I thought.” Sabrina snorted, her expression darkened. “Charles Lakeside, Earl of Pepperdon, was the furthest thing from kind. After an elaborate church wedding and a brief breakfast reception, he dismissed the guests, dragged me to his bedroom, ripped my wedding gown from my trembling body and brutally raped me.”

  Riordan banged the table with his fist, the fury building in him dangerous and potent. Blast her father and Pepperdon to hell!

  “He left me crying hysterically and all alone. No one came to my aid. Mary was not yet my maid, not until a couple of days after. Pepperdon returned twice more. I’ll not go into details, as you can well imagine them. The first few months were horrible. He wanted an heir, and spent his free time, when he was able to perform, trying to accomplish it.”

  “Jesus. Sabrina…”

  She held up her hand. “No pity, please.”

  “It’s not pity, but empathy. There is a difference.” His blood boiled. “The damned arrogance of men. The mistreatment women endure, with no legal rights to see its end, is a blight on society.” He banged his fist again, and his water glass tipped over. Sabrina flinched at the sudden movement. “I didn’t mean to startle you; I am furious you were treated in such a vile manner.”

  “It took me several months to realize that my fighting and screaming as he pounded into me merely stoked his lust. Eventually I lay still and did not utter a peep. After the first year, it became obvious I would not become pregnant easily, and his trips to my bed gradually lessened. But not his frustration.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Pepperdon decided humiliating me would be ample punishment for not allowing his ancient seed to take root. He subjected me to acts….” Sabrina crammed her fist in her mouth.

  His heart ached for her. He started to reply, but Sabrina said, “Let me finish, while I have the courage. By the end of our fifth year of marriage, he stopped coming to me. My indifference with the sex act finally caused him to lose all interest in me, thank God. I was left in peace at last. Weeks would go by without seeing him, which was fine with me. But the damage was done.”

  Sabrina clasped her hands in her lap and met his gaze. “The remaining six years of my marriage allowed me to…heal. Physically and emotionally. Mary assisted me. I crawled out of the abyss, rebuilt my confidence, but built a wall about my heart, for I vowed no man would ever hurt me again. In any way. For if any man does hurt me, it will be an unforgiveable act.”

  A definite warning. Here was the opportunity to confess about the settlement. There was still a chance she would choose to leave and live her life free and clear of him—and because of that, the lie remained, in order for her to have money for the future. This was all for her future, her protection—yet an uneasy feeling settled deep inside him.

  As far as her marriage, it explained why she had shrunk from his touch when they first met. If her foul excuse for a husband wasn’t already dead, he would have seen it done.

  “For six years I held a death watch. Imagine my surprise when Pepperdon actually did die. I don’t know from what; I was never told. Regardless, I was relieved and happy—until the reading of the will. One last humiliation, to leave me with nothing. His toad of a nephew, his heir, could not show me the door quickly enough. I had no choice but to return to my father. You know the rest.”

  “Sabrina, saying that I’m deeply sorry you were subjected to the worst instincts of man is hardly adequate. Most men do not act in such a vile way. Well, at least those in my acquaintance.” But he knew there were men like her father and late husband; he’d heard stories from his father and grandfather of their many dealings with such entitled, arrogant men in London.

  “Thank you for saying sorry; it helps.” Sabrina exhaled. “I’d like to put this behind me, starting tonight. Shall we read?”

  “Of course, if you wish.”

  She hurried from the room, leaving him stunned. And humbled. She trusted him enough to reveal her past. Guilt also took hold, for he was not being honest with her about a number of subjects. Distracted, he placed the wooden chairs close to the fire.

  Sabrina returned and handed him the book. “I have a piece of paper marking the page.” Taking her seat, she gazed at him expectantly.

  Considering Miss Featherstone was plain of features, she fairly sparkled when she smiled. Her large, expressive eyes reflected her changing emotions. Never had Sebastian been drawn to a woman like this before. Perhaps it was her inner beauty, which attracted him most of all—though she did possess glorious curves and full breasts. Enough with stolen kisses; he wanted more. As he pulled her toward the darkened balcony, the sounds of the ball they’d just deserted faded to the background.

  Riordan glanced at Sabrina. She hung on his every word. Should he continue? Why not?

  “My dearest, I must touch you.” Riordan read, as he deepened his voice to a husky whisper, acting the part of the hero. Sebastian tunneled his hands under the layers of silk, groaning when the tips of his fingers brushed by the slit in her drawers. “You are passionate, ready for my touch.” Pushing two fingers deep inside her, Miss Featherstone gasped at the invasion, then sighed contentedly. Faster he thrust, his thumb stroking her arousal. “Come apart in my arms. Come for me, my dearest.” God, he was hard, his shaft throbbin
g with want. He wanted inside her, but surprisingly, he found he wanted her heart more.

  Hell. He was aroused as well. He caught Sabrina’s gaze. Her breathing was shallow, clear proof of her own arousal. If he read any more, he’d explode.

  “Reading this book has taught me much. The touch of a man does not have to be abhorrent,” she stated breathlessly.

  “No. It does not.”

  “I believed I would never enjoy the touch of a man. But I enjoy yours. And your kisses. There is something between us.”

  Once more, those sparks ignited and burned with an intense heat. “Yes. There is. With patience and care, it could be quite wonderful,” he replied, his voice hoarse.

  “Will you be patient with me? Understand if I shrink away that it is not because of you, but because horrible memories are intruding on the present?” Her hazel eyes held him in thrall, almost pleading. He could not refuse her anything. “You see, I wish for what I revealed to you to become a firm part of my past. I don’t want my late husband or father to have control over my life.”

  Riordan’s heart beat fiercely against his chest. “Yes to both questions. Together we will banish those lingering memories. I yearn to show you what bliss can be found in lovemaking. I can teach you…how to love.”

  Chapter 20

  The air was thick and heavy with emotion from their intimate conversation. ‘I can teach you…how to love.’ His huskily spoken words reverberated in her heart, causing it to beat faster. She’d been bold, first by asking him to read from the book, then inviting him to move beyond kissing. Could they do this and part when the annulment was final? To be honest, she wasn’t sure she still wanted the annulment. Why not explore their feelings and see where it would lead?

  Mittens remained oblivious to the intense emotions swirling about the room, since she was fast asleep on the rug in front of the fire. Sliding her gaze to Riordan, Sabrina met his smoldering look. “How will you teach me? Where do we begin?”

  He closed the book and set it aside. “Tonight. Here. I’ll be taking a bath. Stay in the parlor with me.” Previous nights, she’d retired to her bedroom. But it did not stop her from imagining him. To actually witness him bathe caused another blast of heat to settle in her feminine core.

  “And do what?” Her voice was raspy, her breathing uneven.

  Riordan hooked his boot under the chair rung and pulled her closer. The legs of the chair scraped noisily across the wood floor. “We’ll fill the tub. Then, you will undress me. Slowly. As you remove each piece of clothing, you will touch me, become used to my body. Observe how I respond to your touch.” His eyes were half lidded, his look entirely sensuous. “I wish for you to understand that I will never harm you. I respect you too much. I care for you…more than I should.” He repeated the movement with his boot, pulling her chair nearer until they were inches apart. “I’m falling for you, Sabrina.”

  Words failed her. His light blue eyes glowed with sapphire fire. She nodded, her breath coming in short gasps as every part of her body throbbed with yearning. Heavens. He was falling for her. The prospect thrilled her to her toes. She returned the sentiment a hundredfold, but could not put voice to it yet, for her deep-rooted vulnerability bade caution.

  “We must trust each other. Without trust, there cannot be…love.” He took her hand and laid it flat against his chest. His heart pounded fiercely under her palm. “Do not allow my confession to scare you. Let us discover. Open our hearts. Bare our souls.”

  A lump of emotion lodged in her throat as her eyes welled with tears. His passionately spoken words moved her. “Yes,” she whispered. “Discover.”

  “Once I climb into the bath, I wish for you to continue to touch me,” he murmured. An image formed in her mind, of him standing before her completely naked. What was the word in the bold seduction book? Resplendent. How it fit Riordan. “And wash all my bits,” he winked, using her jesting words from their marriage night. “If you wish, grab my shaft and stroke me to completion.” His heart sped up, as did hers. Her cheeks flushed red-hot. “Have I shocked you? Disgusted you?”

  How surprising to find he hadn’t. “No. Not at all.”

  Still grasping her hand, he slid it down his torso until it lay on his erection straining against the fall of his trousers. “This part of me is not a weapon, nor a means to hurt and humiliate. This part of me will bring you pleasure. I will not brutalize or hurt you. Instead, I’ll show you how desire can enhance existing emotions. We’ll move forward at your pace. Any time you wish to stop, say the word.” He squeezed their hands, and the thickness of him caused her to moan. “Shall we begin?”

  “Yes. Begin.”

  Riordan kissed her hand, then stood. He turned on his heel and headed to the door, opened it, then stepped outside, no doubt to fetch the copper tub. She quickly gathered the dishes and hurried to the kitchen. After placing them on the sideboard, she grasped the edge of the counter, trying to catch her breath.

  Sabrina was aroused, and relieved to find that what Riordan described had not filled her with abhorrence. Images of the past tried to push into her mind—Pepperdon’s cold hands roughly grasping her breasts. Him forcing his…his—he called it a cock—into her mouth until she choked. No. The contemptible earl would not ruin this evening, nor dominate her thoughts. Be gone, you miserable reprobate. I no longer fear you. Taking gulps of air, she exhaled as she primed the pump. Locating the kettle, she filled it with water and placed in on the stove.

  Unfortunately, she did not know how to light it yet. Riordan entered, efficiently lit the stove, filled a bucket, and carried it to the parlor. Together they filled the tub with a mixture of cool water from the pump and hot water from the stove. The copper tub stood in front of the fire. Mittens, who had awakened during all the activity, sauntered off to Sabrina’s room, no doubt to continue her nap undisturbed.

  They faced each other. “Take off my clothes,” Riordan said, his voice as rough as sandpaper. Sabrina stepped closer. He’d already removed his frock coat before supper. Her trembling fingers fumbled with his neckcloth. Once unknotted, she tossed it aside.

  Next, his waistcoat. After slipping the brass buttons through the holes, she pushed it from his shoulders, but not before trailing her hands across his broad chest. Muscle flexed under her touch. The garment dropped to the floor. Then she concentrated on his shirt. It was finely made, with porcelain buttons and a high collar. The material soft to the touch. Cotton perhaps?

  Pushing the sides of his unbuttoned shirt, she gazed at his bare chest. He did not wear an undershirt—how scandalous. How delicious. Delineated planes of taut muscle hugged his torso, swirls of curly black hair spread across his chest and around his nipples. They were as hard as hers. She flicked one with the pad of her thumb and Riordan shuddered, a low groan escaping his throat.

  Slowly and with concentrated purpose, she slid his shirt from his shoulders, her hands moving across his muscled biceps. With the tip of her finger, she followed a prominent vein that ran along the length of his arm. His skin, silky and warm to the touch, made her insides flutter with anticipation. “You are…well-made.” Sabrina took her time, trailing her hands across his chest and down his arms. Pulling his shirt from his shoulders, she admired the view. Never had she seen a man her own age in such a state of undress. She’d had no idea a man could look like this: masculine, muscular. Enticing.

  The garment hung at his elbows, then Riordan straightened his arms and allowed it to fall to the floor next to the waistcoat. Stunning specimen. Thankfully, he looked nothing like Pepperdon, which helped to further banish past memories.

  Once she looked her fill, Sabrina all but threw herself at him, giving him a fierce embrace as she’d done before. Her breasts, already full and heavy, smashed against his bare chest. He stood absolutely still, but took sharp breaths as she reached behind him and traced the valley of his spine and explored his muscled back. Inhaling his masculine, musk
y scent, she moaned, completely lost in sensations.

  His trousers were next. Not a weapon. He will not hurt me. Repeating the phrases over and over until she gathered her courage, she released Riordan and took two steps in reverse.

  As she reached for the waistband, he clasped her hand, halting her. “Wait.”

  Sabrina gazed up at him. “I’m ready to do this.”

  He gave her a sensual smile. “I am gratified to hear it. Only I should remove my boots and stockings first.”

  “Oh. Of course.” She returned his smile with a shy one of her own. Riordan sat on the chair and quickly removed the items. Lord. Even his bare feet were elegant, if feet could be described as such. He jumped up and faced her. “Please, continue.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Please.” The pleading tone in his voice sent sparks along her nerve endings.

  “Since you asked politely.” She pulled her hand from his and with rapid efficiency undid the buttons of his fall. Steady on. Without hesitating, she gave his wool trousers a tug until they dropped to the floor. All he wore was his drawers. There was no denying his arousal, as his shaft lay thick and heavy and clearly outlined against him. Curious, she grasped him, and he released a low rumble sounding suspiciously like an animal growl. The heat emanating from his shaft set the palm of her hand on fire.

  Oh, she wanted to hear that wild sound again. She squeezed him and ran her hand along his length and was rewarded with another husky groan. His bath was growing cold. Grasping the waistband of the silk drawers, she gave them a yank and they pooled at his feet. Riordan stepped out of them and kicked them aside.

  Every nerve ending in her body crackled with awareness. Drinking in his form, Sabrina’s intense gaze scanned him head to toe and back again. How wonderful it must be to be completely confident in one’s own skin. Broad shoulders tapered to a slim waist and lean, muscular hips.