“For what?” Edward chuckled.
Daphne didn’t feel much like explaining, so she muttered something about needing to get her wrap and then darted off to find it, returning to Edward just a few minutes later, pondering the exact etiquette of their situation.
“Do you think I’m supposed to have a chaperon?” she wondered aloud.
“I’m sure your brother would think so,” Edward snorted. “However, may I remind you, Lady Coventry, you are my wife, and already so thoroughly compromised you have no hope of getting rid of me,” he drawled huskily. Daphne felt a jolt of pleasure shoot through her body. She flushed breathlessly, and didn’t know quite what to say to such a remark. “Is that understood?” Edward whispered, taking a step towards her so that they were standing quite indecently close.
“Y-yes,” she stammered, feeling herself keen towards him until she was heady with the masculine scent and heat of him.
“Good,” he purred, hooking a finger under Daphne’s chin and tilting her head back slightly.
He was going to kiss her, Daphne trilled, in the middle of Dunnely’s entrance hall, with heaven knew how many of the servants peeking out from behind closed doors! He was going to kiss her, here and now, with a complete disregard for propriety, and she wanted him to-she desperately wanted him to!
It seemed to take hours before Edward’s lips finally brushed against her own, and when they did Daphne almost expected them to spark, the passion simmering between them was so great. His mouth burned possessively over Daphne’s as he sampled her sweetness, taking everything that she had to give him, and then demanding even more. Daphne was dizzy and swaying unsteadily on her feet when Edward finally released her.
“We should go,” he panted, his breath whispering hotly against Daphne’s skin as he spoke.
“I think you’re right,” Daphne murmured quietly. She knew where this was leading; there was only one place that it could possibly lead to now! All of the hunger, all of the desire that they had put a halt to the day before was bubbling to the surface, demanding satisfaction.
“You brought your carriage?” she puzzled, pausing on the front steps.
“I thought it might be more… convenient,” he replied, casting Daphne a wicked glance.
She gasped. “You don’t mean-!”
“It might rain!” Edward offered with an innocent smile and then helped his wife into the carriage.
Edward said something to the driver that Daphne didn’t hear, and then he climbed in beside her. He stared at her in a way that made her skin feel too hot.
“Edward-” Daphne began shakily, but he didn’t let her finish.
“Don’t talk,” he growled, practically pouncing on her. “Just kiss me, Daff.”
His mouth claimed hers once again, hot and insistent, not gentle but voracious, and his hands-his hands seemed to be everywhere-touching her everywhere, until Daphne was moaning wantonly beneath him, bucking her hips up against his hardness, begging him to take her.
“You shouldn’t do this to me,” Edward grunted, “You shouldn’t make me want you so much that I can’t even think.”
“I-I don’t mean to,” Daphne panted, thinking that the same charge could be laid at Edward’s door! She was certain that no other man could reduce her to such a state! But then, Edward was the man that she had been in love with all her life. What was his excuse then?
“Then come home,” he pleaded, reaching under her skirts, fumbling clumsily with her underwear because his hands were shaking so badly. “I need you at home,” he groaned. “This is torture! Not being able to talk to you when I want, touch you when I want, take you when I want!”
There was something in what he was saying, a thread of truth, but also a fear-a fear that if she went back to Edward now then she would be nothing more than a commodity to him.
She succumbed to his kisses all the way to Packwood. When Edward finally pulled away from her, and Daphne realized that they had arrived, she gasped in horror. “How do I look?” she asked timidly.
“Like a woman who has just been ravished,” Edward said, with a definite note of male satisfaction. Daphne gave a little whimper though, and tried harder to straighten her hair and neaten her dress.
“You are awful, Lord Coventry!” she sniffed, jolting with the carriage as they came to a complete stop.
“That’s not what you said a few minutes ago,” Edward grinned wolfishly, which earned him a light slap on the arm from his wife.
He opened the carriage door himself then, not waiting for the footman.
“My dear,” he smiled innocently and offered her his hand, which she took, although not without casting a few furtive glances around, to see who was watching it seemed.
To his staff’s credit, Edward had to admit that no one was staring at Daphne too obviously. He rather thought that he had Eldridge to thank for that little miracle. Eldridge was a real butler, he thought with some satisfaction, not like the idiot they had working for them in London!
“Come along then, Lady Coventry,” Edward said, nudging Daphne up the steps. “I need your opinion on the east wing.”
Daphne raised a suspicious eyebrow in his direction as they climbed the front steps towards Packwood’s large front doors. “Do you really need me to see the east wing?” she asked slowly. “Are you really having it altered?” she pressed.
“Daphne!” Edward feigned a look of deep hurt. “What are you implying?”
“I believe you know, my lord,” she said, the corners of her mouth twitching.
He did love her like this, Edward thought to himself warmly, when she was playful and teasing, it was just what he feared that he would never be able to find in his marriage.
“Well, I am afraid that I must disappoint your nefarious mind,” Edward sighed heavily, but then flashed his wife a cheeky grin. “I do mean to renovate the east wing. William was looking into it, but-well, he didn’t get further than that.”
“And-and you really want my opinion?” Daphne asked, blushing with pleasure.
Edward blinked at her as though she was spouting nonsense. “Well who else would I ask?” he said frowning. “You’re my wife, you’re the mistress of Packwood House, and you do intend on moving in here at some point in the future, don’t you?” he asked, a note of desperation creeping into his voice as he finished.
He felt a flood of relief when Daphne nodded her head-that was a yes, she was coming back, she hadn’t yet said when, but she had said that she would! Well… not said, but nodded, and that was something at least.
Chapter 31
“This way then,” Edward said gruffly, leading his wife into the house, and through the hall, past Eldridge, and into the east wing of Packwood. If Daphne found his change in mood strange then she didn’t say anything. She followed obediently behind her husband, and then moved up beside him, slipping her arm through his, and Edward felt a little of his tension melt away.
“What were you thinking about doing here then?” Daphne asked, her voice a little more quiet and demure now, evidently she had felt his shift in temper after all.
“William had a few, very rough plans drawn up, he wanted to open up the rooms downstairs to create a large ballroom, turning the old, smaller, ballroom into the formal dining room-”
“And the dining room?” Daphne smiled slightly. “What did your brother want to do with that?”
“Lord knows,” Edward grinned. “Turn it into a billiards room I think.” He watched as Daphne wrinkled her nose in distaste. “That doesn’t meet with Lady Coventry’s approval I take it?” he laughed.
Daphne blushed. “Oh well-it’s your house and-”
“It’s our house,” Edward corrected her instantly. “And I want to know what you think.” He waited for his wife to nod, before continuing to recount William’s plans. “My brother wanted the bedrooms upstairs redecorated and refitted as guest rooms.”
“But isn’t that the family wing?” Daphne frowned.
“Part of it. It-” Edward he
sitated, but then he decided to plunge on. It wasn’t as though he had very much left to lose. “It used to be the nursery, children’s rooms, schoolroom and such,” he said slowly. “When the house was originally built at any rate,” he added. “A fire a century ago saw it all gutted, and then it was rebuilt as a suite of bedrooms, but I was thinking of restoring it to its original purpose.”
He watched Daphne start out of the corner of his eye, and then she turned to him slowly. “As a wing for our-for the children?” she asked slowly. “That’s how you want to renovate it?”
Edward nodded carefully, trying to judge his wife’s reaction, and failing quite spectacularly. She looked shocked, but he couldn’t decide if she looked shocked and pleased, or shocked and horrified. “That’s what I was thinking at any rate,” he took a deep breath. “What do you think?”
“I-” Daphne began, but she instantly faltered. “I think… it’s a lovely idea,” she said, her voice sounding strangled.
“Daff?” Edward frowned. “It was just an idea. Are you all right?” he asked.
“Fine,” she said, but she didn’t sound fine…
She didn’t feel fine either. Daphne wasn’t sure how she did feel, but it certainly wasn’t fine! Children. She wished that Edward hadn’t raised the subject. It was almost too painful and too wonderful to contemplate. To sire a son - that had been Edward’s primary reason for returning, and Daphne had to make sure that she remembered that fact. She had been in danger of forgetting.
“Daphne?” Edward was staring at her, with a puzzled, concerned, frown etched upon his face. “What’s wrong, darling?”
The endearment was similarly cruel and kind. If she could just let herself believe… “Nothing,” Daphne said, “nothing’s wrong, I just-” but her sentence trailed off feebly.
“You just what?” Edward demanded. He was looking increasingly worried. “What is it, Daff? Are you sick?”
“No!” Daphne assured him instantly, unable to bear how anxious Edward looked, but a second later she wished that she had used the lie to cover up her slip, because her husband clearly expected to be told what had upset her.
“Well then…?” he pressed. “What is it?”
“I just-you just surprised me, that’s all,” she mumbled, but that did absolutely nothing to lessen Edward’s frown, if anything it only increased it.
“What do you mean?”
Daphne sighed and looked up helplessly at the ceiling. She wished that she had been able to keep her reactions to herself! “It was just the-the talk of children,” she whispered quietly. “I suppose-I suppose that I had forgotten your intentions,” she stammered awkwardly.
“My intentions?” Edward scowled.
Daphne bit her lip. “Oh please, Edward, please don’t be cross?” she begged, reaching out to touch his arm. “I didn’t mean to make you angry!” she cried, and then gasped when he pulled away from her, walking over to the window as he raked a hand through his hair.
“I don’t understand what I’ve done wrong this time, Daphne,” Edward growled, thumping his fist down on the windowsill. “I thought-!”
“You thought what?” Daphne squeaked, taking a few little tentative steps closer to her husband.
“It doesn’t matter,” he snarled. “Just forget it-forget the whole thing!”
“Edward!” Daphne exclaimed, and then, gathering her courage, she tugged him around to face her and shook her head firmly. “Don’t!” she snapped. “Don’t sulk!”
Edward’s eyebrows rose until they were almost lost in his hairline. “Don’t what?” he choked.
“Sulk,” Daphne murmured, a little more hesitantly. “Oh Edward, we were having such a lovely day,” she implored breathlessly, taking another step closer to him and gazing up into his face with wide, pleading eyes that no man could resist. “Please don’t spoil it?” she whispered.
“But I-” he started to argue, however, he seemed to then stop himself. He paused and drew a deep, calmling breath. “How do you suggest we rectify the situation then?” he asked smoothly.
Daphne gave a huge sigh of relief, and then looked deeply thoughtful. “You know my lord, I think I know what you should do,” she mused, brightening a little.
“We,” he corrected her, his lips once again twitching.
“Well-if you like,” Daphne blushed. “You’ve been gone for so long, Edward, and so many people are dying to see you again - you should throw a ball!”
“A ball?” Edward choked, again. “A ball! Here at Packwood?”
Daphne looked at him strangely, as though she found his reaction very odd indeed. “Yes, a ball, here at Packwood,” she nodded, speaking slowly, almost as if she doubted his ability to comprehend her. “You are the Earl of Coventry now, Edward,” she pointed out, as if this development might have escaped his notice. “People will expect it from you now that you’re back.”
“I don’t care what people expect,” Edward grumbled.
“Oh but it could be such fun!” Daphne exclaimed, lighting up at the prospect of a good old-fashioned country ball.
“Could it?” Edward looked decidedly doubtful, but then a slow, thoughtful grin spread across his face. Daphne shifted, suddenly uneasy at this change. “And you would help host such an event?” he asked, pinning his wife in place with one of his most dazzling smiles.
“Well I-“
“After all, as the Countess of Coventry, I’m quite sure that would be expected of you,” he bandied back at her amusedly.
Daphne pouted. “Touché, my lord,” she sniffed.
“Does that mean you’ll help?” Edward grinned, but before Daphne could respond one way or another he continued: “in fact, I think that I should put you completely in charge of everything.”
“Me?” Daphne squeaked. “I don’t-I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Edward. People will-”
“People will expect my wife to host any ball that I might give in my house,” Edward argued, so logically and evenly that Daphne didn’t quite know how to respond. “And as you’re the one who is so concerned with what ‘people’ think…” he let his sentence trail off meaningfully. Daphne licked her lips, wondering what she should say, wondering what she was signing herself up for if she agreed to help him… she watched Edward shrug his shoulders while she hesitated. “But if you’d rather just… forget the whole idea…?” he said slowly.
“Oh no,” Daphne contradicted him quickly. “I-I don’t want you to do that,” she murmured chewing her lip nervously.
“Daff,” Edward breathed tenderly. He took a step closer to her so that he was able to bend and place a light kiss on her forehead. “It’s all right,” he whispered gently. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want. We can forget the whole ball idea.” He dipped lower and pressed his lips lovingly against her mouth.
“But I want-” Daphne whispered, her breath caressing Edward’s cheek. “I want to help you, but I-I-”
“What?” Edward murmured, wrapping his arms around her waist. “What’s wrong?”
“I-I’m not ready to come back yet, but I-oh!” she stammered shakily, burying her head against Edward’s chest.
She expected him to be angry, to push her away, and to tell her not to be so ridiculous and to stop messing around, (the ball had been her idea after all!) but Edward didn’t do any of that. He rubbed a soothing hand up and down Daphne’s back, holding her gently as he murmured calming words of reassurance.
“It’s all right, Daff,” he whispered, rocking her gently in his arms.
It wasn’t though, Daphne thought, she was behaving erratically. She wanted to be with Edward… at sixteen she had taken what she wanted, hang the consequences. Perhaps that had been selfish and immature of her, but at least she had been strong enough to go after what she wanted. Now, at twenty-two, she wouldn’t even lift a tentative hand towards what she desired? Well that had to stop!
“What if we pretended that things between us were… normal?” she asked slowly.
Edw
ard drew back a little, so that he was able to look down into his wife’s face. “What do you mean?” he puzzled. “Daphne?”
“I mean,” she began carefully, licking her dry lips, “what if I was to help you with the ball, just like you asked? I could s-stay at Packwood,” she stammered. “Only if you don’t mind that is!” she added in a rush.
“Mind?” Edward beamed. “Why would you even think that I’d-”
“And then after I could go back to Dunnely and-”
“What?” Edward growled, his face instantly darkening. “Go back to Dunnely?”
“Y-yes,” Daphne nodded awkwardly. She watched hesitantly as a muscle jumped in Edward’s clenched jaw, he seemed to visibly work at calming himself down before speaking again.
“What if you didn’t want to move back to Dunnely afterwards?” he breathed silkily. “What if-after the ball and its preparations you wanted to stay with me? What then?” he drawled.
“B-but-” Daphne licked her lips again. “We’d only be pretending-”
“In what sense would it be pretend, Daff?” Edward interrupted. “You would be living here with me, alone, in our house…”
“Only for a short time though!” Daphne squeaked breathlessly.
“Perhaps,” Edward murmured grudgingly. “But perhaps not. Let me change your mind about me, Daphne?” he pleaded, clutching her close. “Give me the time that it takes to organize one of these things to prove to you that I’ve changed?” he begged.
“What-what do you mean?” Daphne gasped, staring up at him with wide eyes.
“I mean, come and live with me until the ball takes place,” Edward blurted. “Be my wife, or pretend to be my wife, whichever way you want to think about it, but come and stay with me here at Packwood, and then decide, after the ball, if you want to stay for good?” he breathed raggedly.
Oh it was tempting… so tempting… “What about my mother, my brother?” Daphne winced.
“They aren’t invited,” Edward somehow managed to joke. “Not to stay anyway.”
“Edward!” Daphne scolded. “Anthony will-”
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