Just One Kiss

by Stephanie Sterling

  “You come out on your own like this often?” Edward’s frown deepened.

  “I’m fine, Edward.”

  “Daphne, I’d still feel better if you’d let me escort you back to Dunnely House,” Edward pressed, but his wife shook her head.

  “Anthony will be terribly angry if you do, Edward,” she breathed softly. “I’ll be fine, I promise,” she said quickly, probably noting the black scowl that darkened her husband’s face.

  Edward fell silent, not making another objection to his wife’s determined plan. She collected her things, tucking her easel under her arm and packing her paints and brushes away into a carefully crafted box.

  “Goodbye then, Lord Coventry,” she said, in awkward, stilted tones.

  “Goodbye, Daphne,” Edward grumbled. He watched her turn, watched her take one step away from him, and then he acted-he simply couldn’t help himself.

  Edward reached out and grabbed Daphne’s wrist, tugging her back towards him, into his arms, sending her things tumbling to the ground as his lips closed over her mouth, which was parted in shock and surprise. Edward wasn’t reluctant to take advantage of that fact. He kissed her, deeply, clutching at her like a man desperately clinging to life.

  He groaned when she kissed him back, the sweet, timid flick of her tongue against his own felt like heaven. He had missed her. He had missed her so much! How was it even possible to ache for a woman as he ached for Daphne when he had been with her as her husband for less than a week? It was madness. But it was how Edward felt.

  “Stop!” Daphne gasped, pushing against his chest. “We can’t-I can’t think-” she panted. She looked up at him with heavy eyes and swollen lips. “I-I-” she stammered, looking so lost that he tightened his hold on her.

  “I’m going to win you back, Daff,” Edward growled, feeling the shiver that ran the length of his wife’s body as he spoke. “I swear it!”

  Edward let her go after that. He had to release her while he still could, before the desire to toss Daphne over his shoulder and ride with her back to Packwood House became too strong to resist.

  “Edward?” she breathed shakily, and, just a little hopefully? But Edward didn’t trust himself to say anything else for a moment. He picked up her easel and paints, handing them back to her, ensuring that their fingers brushed as he did so.

  “You still mean to walk back alone?” he asked, gazing down at her enticingly flushed face.

  “I have to,” she said, but Edward was pleased at least that she sounded less than happy about leaving him.

  “I’ll watch you walk back,” Edward declared. If he walked just a little way with Daphne then he could stop on top of a small hill from which Dunnely could be seen and see her safely back to the house.

  “Oh but-you don’t have to,” Daphne was quick to remind him.

  “I want to,” he argued firmly, and that was that.

  They walked silently for the few feet of their journey together, both stealing glances at the other when they thought they weren’t being watched. She was so beautiful, Edward mused, but her beauty had never been in doubt, so why was it only really now that being in her presence made him feel like an awkward youth desperate to curry the favour of a beautiful lady?

  “I’ll have to leave you here then,” Edward said, having already walked further than he’d meant to. He wondered, if he hadn’t said anything, how far Daphne would have let him go…

  “I am going to see you again, aren’t I, Edward?” Daphne said suddenly, looking almost as though she feared she’d imagined the entire meeting. “You won’t leave again without saying goodbye?”

  “I won’t need to say goodbye when I leave Coventry next, because I’ll be taking you with me,” he promised, his voice both soft and firm at the same time.

  Daphne’s lips parted in a little “O” of surprise as color flooded her cheeks, but she couldn’t then stop them from curving into a small, shy smile. “Goodbye for now then, Edward,” she said softly.

  “Remember, Daphne, Packwood’s your home, you don’t need to wait for an invitation to visit,” he called after her, amazed by how good he suddenly felt. He hadn’t been one hundred percent certain that he was doing the right thing until the second he’d touched her lips. Then he’d known-just how much he wanted, no needed, her to come back.

  Still, it wasn’t without an aching heart that Edward watched Daphne’s figure retreat. She should have been walking in the other direction-home with him, he thought, as he saw her safely into Dunnely before he turned back to his horse.

  Chapter 24

  Daphne had a smile on her face when she walked into the entrance hall of her childhood home, an occurrence so rare in recent days that the butler, who had been with the family since before Daphne had been born, commented on the fact that the fresh air had done her good.

  Daphne smiled and nodded her agreement, although she privately had to correct him, it wasn’t the fresh air, it was Edward, his presence and his kiss, that had broken her depression.

  She still couldn’t quite believe that he had come, that it was real, that he was here! Edward had chased her all the way back to Coventry. Oh-she had hoped, but she had never dared expect that he would come, and certainly not so soon! Daphne could feel her heart fluttering in her chest. Right now, at this very moment, Edward was probably arriving back at Packwood House, which was just a little over a mile away. He was so wonderfully close! Everything felt different, just knowing that he was near.

  Sighing dreamily, feeling just as ridiculous as she had as a foolish girl of sixteen, Daphne carried her painting things upstairs to her room. She asked for a dinner tray to be sent upstairs. She didn’t want to eat with her mother and brother this evening. They would only spoil her happy mood. Her mother kept threatening to leave and visit her sister in Plymouth, perhaps if Daphne’s luck held she would go?

  Mrs. Hargreaves had reserved a decidedly less than warm welcome home for her only daughter. For the most part she pretended that Daphne wasn’t even in residence at Dunnely, and when they were forced to converse, usually at Anthony’s prompting, she made her disapproval blatantly clear. Daphne had sadly reached the conclusion that she wouldn’t be able to do anything to restore her mother’s good opinion of her-and so she had stopped trying.

  She was however determined to push that gloomy thought aside with memories of her, all too brief, meeting with Edward. He had looked quite dashingly dishevelled she reflected as she tidied her things away, and couldn’t help but wonder, with a thrilling kind of guilt, how hard and fast he had ridden to reach her?

  Daphne closed her eyes and tried to call to mind the masculine scent of him, leather and pine and Edward, the feel of him, the slight, scratchy growth of a beard against her skin, and the pressure of his lips as he kissed her. Daphne was losing herself so completely in the last memory that she almost didn’t hear the knock at her door. She called in a fluster for the maid to enter when she realized that she had been standing staring into space for the best part of five minutes.

  She busied herself by looking through her old portfolio of paints while the maid delivered supper. Daphne found the pictures she’d created of India. She wondered if Edward would like to see them. Then she almost instantly decided that was a silly idea. They were probably all wrong anyway.

  She ran a loving finger over them nonetheless. Did she dare believe that Edward was serious when he said that one day she would see all these places for herself? Maybe he would take her? Daphne’s heart leapt. Maybe not all the way to India, but to France perhaps, or Italy. She would love that so much.

  “There you are, Mistress Daphne,” the maid said with a little bob. Daphne’s mother had instructed the house staff to address her as such, refusing to hear her called ‘Lady Coventry’ inside Dunnely. She didn’t think that her daughter deserved any of the privileges that came with her marriage after she had left her husband. “Will there be anything else, miss?” the young girl asked.

  “No, no thank you, that will be all,�
� Daphne said quietly.

  She sat down at the cozy little table after the maid had gone, tucking into the cold beef and parsley pie with more relish than she had shown when eating anything in days.

  Helping herself to a glass of water, Daphne wondered what Edward was eating-if he was eating well. She hoped that his housekeeper kept a good pantry. She would ensure that things were in order if she returned. Daphne stopped herself before she let her thoughts run too far away with her.

  It could have been her responsibility, and really it should be her responsibility. She found that she wanted to take care of Edward, to look after him, as a wife should, but for the moment at least she had given up that role. He seemed to want to make sure that she took it back though, Daphne considered.

  Letting herself hope again as the tingling memory of Edward’s kiss returned to her. She sighed. Perhaps she was being silly? Given all the hours of her life that she’d spent thinking about him, Daphne wondered if he was now thinking about her at all?

  Chapter 25

  When Daphne woke the next morning it was to the familiar feeling of disorientation. She could understand why she found it odd to wake up in an unfamiliar room, but she couldn’t understand why she was always surprised to wake up alone. She and Edward had only spent a handful of nights together! Certainly not long enough for her to get used to it-or, so she would have thought.

  “Good morning, Mistress Daphne.”

  Daphne turned her head toward the door as her maid bustled into the bedroom, laden down with a breakfast tray.

  Daphne climbed out of bed and wandered over to the window and pulled open the curtains, revealing it to be a beautifully sunny day outside.

  It was so lovely that hardly an hour had passed before Daphne found herself outside in Dunnely’s gardens walking up and down the flowerbeds. Her feet were itching to lead her away from the house. They wanted to carry her toward Packwood, but Daphne was trying her hardest to fight that urge.

  She managed for all of half an hour.

  It wasn’t very likely that she would see Edward even if she did wander onto his grounds. The Earl’s lands covered over 800 acres. The chances of her happening upon him for the second day in a row were slim to say the least. Besides, it would look very odd if she did stumble upon him, Daphne reasoned. That nearly stopped her from going altogether.

  What would he think of her if they did meet? Daphne chewed her thumbnail nervously. It was highly unlikely though! She clung to that thought-at least she thought she did-why exactly was she walking all the way to Packwood House if she didn’t want to see Edward?

  She did want to see him. She just didn’t want to seem like she was throwing herself at him. Daphne cringed. Again.

  She meant to keep to the edges of the park at least, but as time wore on Daphne found herself drifting ever closer to the house, wandering aimlessly through the formal gardens, remembering how she had chased the boys up and down these same paths as a young girl.

  There was a pretty little orangery not very much further on she recalled. Daphne’s feet were beginning to ache a little and she knew that there would be somewhere to sit inside the building, so she made her way in that direction. It was a little strange, she considered, that she hadn’t happened upon a gardener or anyone, not that she was complaining about her solitude!

  Relieved to find a little wood bench outside the orangery in the shade, so that she wouldn’t have to endure the heat inside, Daphne settled herself down. She smoothed out her skirts and looked about, unprepared for the sudden welling of sadness that started to bubble up inside her.

  This should have been her garden, and she should be sitting on her bench, not feeling like an intruder stealing a little piece of something that she couldn’t have. Daphne sighed, a deep, heavy, soul-stirring sigh, and then nearly jumped out of her skin when someone tapped her on the shoulder.

  “Edward!” she gasped, raising a hand to clutch at her pounding heart. “You scared me half to death!”

  “Sorry,” he chuckled, looking strangely pleased. “I thought you might have been expecting me.”

  “Expecting you?” Daphne echoed, still rather breathless. “Why would I have been expecting you?” she asked, sounding rather puzzled.

  Edward flashed her a puzzled smile of his own and glanced around the formally laid out flowerbeds and shrubs in front of the orangery. “Well, this is my garden,” he pointed out. “Or rather, our garden really,” he amended softly, which caused Daphne’s already flushed cheeks to positively burn.

  “Oh! Of course it is-your garden I mean, I was just-just-” she flailed helplessly for a moment before Edward saved her.

  “Would you like to come back to the house for a cold drink? Lemonade? You look a little… hot,” he drawled, letting his eyes roam over her figure and face rather shamelessly.

  The achy need in her womb, which Daphne had been doing so well to suppress, pulsed to life again. How could he make a glass of lemonade sound so wicked? It wasn’t decent!

  “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” Daphne said slowly, not thinking that being alone with Edward in her current, almost desperate, state of mind (or was that body?) was a very good idea at all!

  “Well, we could just stay out here I suppose,” Edward conceded, sitting down beside his wife.

  Daphne gave a silent little nod. She wasn’t sure how he was managing to take up quite so much of the space on the bench, but she was squeezed right over to left hand side and Edward’s thigh was still almost touching hers! The desire to move a little to her right so that it could was almost unbearable.

  “So,” Edward said, slowly, and the tiny little word seemed to be infused with meanings that Daphne couldn’t quite grasp.

  “So?” she repeated hesitantly, when her husband didn’t actually continue speaking.

  Edward turned to look at her, but he didn’t immediately say anything, even then. He reached out an arm, leaning nonchalantly back in the garden seat, flexing his fingertips so that they brushed Daphne’s shoulder. Her breath hitched in her throat at the pressure of his touch, it was butterfly light, but sparks still sizzled all the way down her spine.

  “Edward?” she pressed, her voice growing breathless as her husband remained silent.

  His fingers didn’t stay still however, they tiptoed over her shoulder, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear, before trailing a line along her jaw. He then hooked one digit under her chin and forced her to look him straight in the eyes… except, Edward didn’t seem terribly concerned with looking at her eyes.

  No. Edward was staring quite fixedly at her lips. Daphne couldn’t help but lick them instinctively. His gaze was almost as heavy as a touch and Daphne’s skin was tingling under the attention.

  “Edward?” she whispered again, but her voice was hardly loud enough to be heard. He was leaning towards her… closer, closer, closer… until their lips finally, blissfully brushed against one another, and Daphne felt as if the magical moment they had shared the previous day had never ended.

  Daphne leaned into Edward’s kiss, and the promise of everything that it hinted at, she wanted this, she wanted him… was this then what she’d come to Packwood looking for? She didn’t know, but she did know that she didn’t want to fight it. She couldn’t fight it. She didn’t even try to struggle when Edward’s arms closed around her. He pulled her toward him, wrapping her in his embrace as he deepened his kiss.

  “Edward,” she gasped against his lips, her voice was a small plea, but a plea for him to do what-stop or continue? Daphne wasn’t sure that she even knew.

  Edward seemed to know what she wanted though, or he made a rather good guess at any rate. His tongue surged deeply between her teeth, worshipping the sweet recess of her mouth while his hands slowly, reverently wandered over her body.

  “We shouldn’t,” she murmured, when Edward’s mouth moved from her lips to her neck, but she of course made no move to actually stop him. His tongue flicked over her slightly salty skin, creating
sizzling little trails all over the elegant curve of Daphne’s throat.

  “Shouldn’t we?” he purred, moving his hand so that he was able to cup one of Daphne’s breasts through the thin fabric of her day dress. “Why not?” he whispered, his breath tickling against her skin.

  “Be-because…” Daphne began, but didn’t finish.

  “Because it would be considered that I’m compromising you?” he teased. “You know… you are still my wife, Daphne,” he said softly, hesitantly, almost as though he wasn’t sure whether or not he was allowed to remind her of that fact, but all Daphne murmured in reply was a dreamy: “I am.”

  Edward seemed to stiffen, but then relaxed as he listened to this confirmation trickle from her lips. “You are,” he growled, beginning to move more possessively to take her. “Mine, mine,” he rasped, claiming her lips in a harder, more desperate kiss than before.

  She should put a stop to this… that hazy thought did finally register in Daphne’s mind as Edward’s hands became heavier and his mouth more demanding.

  He was going to think that she was coming back if she let him continue, and she did want to come back to him she acknowledged, running her own hands over his chest, loving the feel and the power of him. She did want Edward back, she had never really wanted to leave him after all, but she couldn’t. Not yet, not until she knew that he had changed, really changed.

  “Come up to the house, Daff,” Edward whispered huskily. Daphne shook her head, a little of her common sense returning as she imagined what the servants would think if she went back to the house with Edward! She gasped however, her bones seeming to turn to liquid when he flicked his tongue into her ear. “No?” he purred. “Maybe you’re right,” he breathed, casting a wicked glance in the direction of the orangery. “Maybe the house is too far?”

  “What-what do you mean?” she gasped, but Edward didn’t answer. He did however scoop her up into his arms. “Edward! What are you-?” Daphne started to squeal, but still her husband didn’t speak.