Just One Kiss

by Stephanie Sterling

  “Anthony will be busy in London for at least the next week,” Edward assured her easily. His wife frowned at him in confusion.

  “How do you know that?” she queried, but Edward simply gave his shoulders a secretive shrug. “Ed-”

  “Yes or no, Daphne?” he interrupted, a note of real desperation creeping into his voice.

  Daphne looked up, into Edward’s face, and she knew that there was only one answer that she could possibly give.

  Chapter 32

  “Yes,” Daphne whispered, barely loud enough for Edward to hear.

  “What?” he gasped, gripping Daphne by the tops of her arms and pushing her back slightly, so that he could look into her eyes as he questioned her. “What did you say?”

  “I-I said yes,” she stammered, a shaky smile breaking across her face. “Yes, I’ll come and stay with you here at Packwood, Edward!” she giggled nervously, hardly believing herself just what she was saying.

  “Oh God thank you,” he groaned, sweeping her back up into his arms. “Thank you, thank you,” he murmured against the top of her head.

  Daphne wrapped her own arms around his waist, burying herself against Edward’s chest as he smoothed his hands possessively over her body. She felt a little tingle of fear at her decision, but she also felt a larger wave of relief – she had made the right choice.

  “I’ll need to send for some of my things from Dunnely if I am to stay, my lord,” she said, her words a little muffled because of the fact she was still speaking into Edward’s chest.

  “Mmm,” Edward nodded, but he was unwilling to release her from his embrace. “We can deal with that later,” he sighed.

  “Oh?” Daphne laughed. “What do you propose we do in the meantime then?” she asked softly, trailing a hand over his waistcoat, seductively copying the patterns with her nails.

  “I could show you the house?” he whispered gruffly.

  “I’ve seen the house,” Daphne purred, tiptoeing her fingertips up to Edward’s tie, which had been knocked askew long ago. She slowly untied it and then slowly retied it, listening to the catch in her husband’s breath as she worked.

  “You haven’t seen all of the house,” he panted. Daphne looked up at him from under lowered lashes. “You haven’t, for example, seen the Countess’s bedroom.”

  “No,” Daphne agreed quietly. She licked her lips, watching Edward’s eyes darken with lust as she did so. “But perhaps… I’d rather see the Earl’s bedroom?” she whispered seductively. Edward smiled, that slow smoldering smile that set Daphne’s blood pounding through her veins as if it was liquid fire. “Or I could start writing your guest list?” she tried to tease, although her voice was raw.

  “I think I know which option I prefer,” he growled, and then he lifted Daphne clean off her feet, sweeping her up into his arms and turning to walk back towards the main staircase.

  Daphne squealed and clung to her husband. Something had changed, she wasn’t sure quite what it was, but something was different now. She felt-almost as though she was coming home.

  “The servants are going to see,” she whispered, but for some reason it no longer seemed so important.

  “I’m sure they are,” Edward chuckled. He stopped walking to steal a searing kiss. “They’ll like having a mistress living here again,” he smiled, and then grinned wickedly, “I’ll like having my mistress living here.”

  “Just the one, my lord?” Daphne pouted petulantly.

  “Only ever the one,” Edward growled, claiming another kiss. “Only ever you.”

  Daphne wanted to believe him, so very, very badly, and what would it hurt, if just for a few days, a week at the most, she did let herself pretend that what she and Edward shared was real - that he really wanted her, loved her even, that she was more than just the girl that he had been forced to marry?

  “I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you,” Edward panted, walking the rest of the way to his bedroom as quickly as he could manage. Daphne thrilled at his words, and she let herself believe that he might really mean them, while simultaneously trying to persuade herself she was only playing a role.

  “I’ve never wanted anyone but you,” she heard herself admit, blushing furiously when she realized the significance of her confession. Edward faltered in his next step. He stared down at Daphne, opening and then closing his mouth several times before he was able to speak.

  “I don’t deserve you,” he rasped, putting her down suddenly and taking an unsteady step away from her. “I never-I never deserved you-never treated you right,” he said difficultly, shaking his head from side to side.

  Daphne felt her heart breaking for him. She had been Edward’s victim as much as he had been hers, if not more so, but seeing the guilt that filled his eyes… he couldn’t be feigning such heartbreaking remorse!

  “No!” she breathed, throwing herself forwards, clinging tightly to Edward’s chest. She balled her hands in the fabric of his waistcoat, clutching at him desperately. “That’s not true!” she argued. “It’s not,” she shook her head, only relaxed a fraction when she felt Edward’s hand move to cup her cheek.

  “It is,” he murmured. “It is true, Daphne, but-if I could change what I did…” his voice trailed off hopelessly. “I know I can’t,” Edward said bleakly. “But I can try and make what we have now good enough for you. I can make it up to you, Daff!” he swore, placing a hand on either side of her face and tilting her head back so that she was looking up at him.

  “I know you can,” she smiled shakily, and then she stood on tiptoes and brushed a kiss against his mouth. She didn’t want him serious and apologetic, not now, not when she was burning inside. Daphne flicked her tongue against the seam of his lips. “You could start now?” she whispered provocatively. “Making it up to me?” she purred, scratching her nails down over Edward’s chest.

  He looked momentarily surprised by her forwardness, but he recovered with a slow, if slightly hesitant, smile. “And how do you propose I do that, Lady Coventry?”

  Daphne smiled brightly, loosening the knot in the tie she had so recently tied before slipping it off her husband’s neck completely. “I’m sure you’ll think of something, if you just use your imagination?” she murmured breathily, wondering where she had learnt to be so daring!

  “My imagination?” Edward smirked wickedly, looking with interest at the length of silk in Daphne’s hand. “I’m not sure you’re ready for some of the things that I’ve been imagining,” he drawled huskily.

  “Oh is that so?” Daphne giggled, lifting one curious eyebrow. “Well why don’t you show me, and we’ll see if I’m ready or not?” she teased, backing away from Edward, sauntering playfully.

  “Well now, I just might do that,” he grinned wickedly, following after his wife, snatching the tie back from her hand before dragged her into his arms for another heavy, heady kiss. He plundered Daphne’s mouth until she was breathless and dizzy, only releasing her after she had melted in his arms. “This way,” he murmured, nudging her toward a door on the right.

  “What’s this way?” Daphne asked breathlessly.

  “The Earl’s bedroom of course,” he whispered thickly, guiding her inside.

  Chapter 33

  Daphne might think that she was at Packwood for a trial period, but in Edward’s mind she was home to stay. This ball that he had been initially against, but which had proven to be his saving grace, would be the perfect opportunity to demonstrate to society that the Earl of Coventry had truly found his Countess.

  Edward reached out a hand and stroked Daphne’s cheek lightly. After a thorough exploration of the Earl’s bedroom-including the Earl’s bed-she had fallen asleep. The hours were slipping away, but he couldn’t bear to wake her. She looked so beautiful and peaceful. She also looked happy, even asleep. Surely that wasn’t something that someone could feign, and not something that he could misread?

  Edward withdrew his hand guiltily as she began to stir. Her eyelashes fluttered, before flickering open. A
sleepy smile formed on her lips when she caught sight of her husband watching her.

  “I was afraid it was a dream,” she sighed, not fully awake yet, but her words gave Edward such a boost of hope!

  “It’s real,” he grinned, kissing Daphne’s cheek and then watching her stretch. “Hungry?” he asked, listening to his own stomach rumble. Daphne gave her head a small nod, and then looked about the room, taking in the long shadows that were cast by the low sun.

  “How late is it?” she squeaked, chewing her lip nervously.

  “Well, let’s just say, if we dress very quickly we might make it down to dinner,” Edward said sheepishly. “Um-that’s assuming that Cook’s actually prepared dinner,” he mumbled. He tried not to notice how horrified his wife looked.

  “We’ve been up here all afternoon?” Daphne whispered, panicked.

  “And part of this morning too, I believe,” Edward couldn’t resist pointing out. It was all very well for Daphne to be concerned about keeping up appearances, but she was his wife, this was his house, they had done nothing wrong and he wasn’t going to be made to feel like he had! “In fact-” he made a show of stretching, pleased to find that Daphne had rather a hard time stopping herself from staring. “I think that we should ring for a tray of food to be brought up here.”

  “Lord Coventry!” Daphne choked. “We will do no such thing!”

  To Edward’s disappointment she had already crawled out of bed, clutching a sheet around her body to conceal herself, to Edward’s further disappointment. However, she ran into an instant problem. Her clothes, crumpled and creased, couldn’t possibly be worn.

  “What am I going to do?” she demanded of her husband. “What am I going to wear?” she cried, glaring at Edward as though it was all his fault. He supposed it was, partly, but he was only willing to take about fifty percent of the blame.

  “That sheet looks rather fetching, my lady,” Edward couldn’t resist saying.

  “Edward! Please be serious?” Daphne whimpered, stomping her little feet, Edward had to fight the decidedly chauvinistic urge to get out of bed, sweep her up into his arms, deposit her back on the mattress, and tell her not to worry her pretty little head about it – he wisely tempered this urge.

  “Well-” Edward paused uncertainly, “-after we had this same little problem last time with the rain, I-I took the liberty of having a few of your things sent here from London,” he confessed, by ‘a few’ he meant all, but he wasn’t sure how Daphne was going to react to his highhandedness.

  Her mouth parted in surprise, but then she let out a sigh of relief-perhaps she was saving her annoyance for when she was dressed?

  “But have they arrived yet?” she worried. “It’s only been-”

  “They came this morning,” Edward assured her, pointing her in the direction of the adjoining ‘Countess’s bedroom.’ He watched Daphne scurry away, but stayed in bed a little while longer himself. He rather assumed that it wouldn’t take him half as long as his wife to throw on some clean clothes, and besides, he still had so many thoughts racing about inside his head.

  He needed to send word to Dunnely. Mrs. Hargreaves had to be told that her daughter wouldn’t be returning. Edward supposed that a letter to Anthony in London was also called for – but he wasn’t stupid or suicidal, so he decided to ‘forget’ that little detail. His brother-in-law was bound to hear what had happened sooner or later, Edward simply preferred later. He wanted to have as much time as possible to convince Daphne that this – here with him at Packwood – was where she belonged, before Anthony appeared and tried to rip her away from him.

  He couldn’t let that happen! Edward clenched his fists, but then forced himself to relax.

  Things around the house were also in need of changing, Edward supposed. He was no expert on the subject, but he rather thought that Daphne now needed to be responsible for the daily running of the household. Packwood had been without a mistress for so long that Edward wasn’t sure how it was going to adjust-his mother had preferred keeping a house in London after her husband’s death, and William had never married.

  Well, Daphne would know what to do, he was sure. She had been running a house of servants on her own ever since he had left her after all. Edward winced guiltily. How was he meant to give her back the six years that he had stolen? Whatever he did for her now, that would always be between them. He sighed heavily, and then realized that Daphne was standing at the foot of the bed, staring at him quizzically.

  “My, you sound serious,” she said, looking nervous, and, Edward blinked, fully dressed! He watched as his wife licked her lips hesitantly and then forced a shaky smile. “You’re not having second thoughts are you?”

  “Second thoughts?” Edward echoed, finally dragging himself out of bed. He must have been lying there thinking for longer than he had imagined; he refused to believe that Daphne-that any woman-could attire herself so swiftly! Then again… Daphne had an incentive. No doubt she didn’t want to linger upstairs out of sight a second longer than necessary while the servants gossiped downstairs.

  “Second thoughts about me staying?” Daphne whispered.

  “What?” he choked, before crossing the room back to Daphne. “Why would you even think such a thing?” he demanded, catching her hold by the upper arms-wanting to shake some sense into her.

  “I-I just want to be sure that you want this, Edward,” she murmured, looking so heartbreakingly uncertain that he had to fight the desire to kiss her rather senseless. “I know it wasn’t-not originally,” she whispered.

  “Daphne,” Edward groaned.

  What could he say to make it better? What did he dare confess? That he had enjoyed their very first cataclysmic kiss? That he had dreamt of doing more than merely kissing her the night before she had appeared in his room? Or that maybe he had been drawn to her in just the same way that she had been drawn to him… only he had been too much of a coward to act on those instincts…? Not one of those options overly appealed to Edward, he would have to confess too much, make himself look so bad…

  “Daphne,” he sighed again, playing for some time. “That’s all in the past,” he said, feeling horribly guiltily for acting in such a deceitful manner, “it doesn’t do any good to bring it up now, darling.”

  Daphne flinched, clearly taking everything that Edward had just said as an agreement-clearly believing what she had believed for the entire time that they had been apart-that he had never wanted to marry her, not even in the slightest…

  “No, of course, you’re right,” she mumbled. “We have to-to make what we can of the present and not dwell on what we’ve lost in the past,” Daphne nodded, apparently determined to be philosophical about things.

  Edward frowned and reached for a clean shirt. “Well, I wouldn’t put it quite like that,” he grumbled under his breath, not meaning for his wife to hear, but of course she did.

  “What do you mean?” she queried instantly, hope bursting to light in her eyes. “Why wouldn’t you put it like that?”

  “Well, because-” Edward began awkwardly, and then broke off, pausing to knot his tie. He took so long about it that Daphne stepped forward and snatched it off him, tying it impatiently and then demanding that he continue with his explanation. “Because-” Edward sighed heavily. “Daphne I don’t regret our current situation,” he blurted, which made his wife jump back from him and gape.

  “You don’t?” she gasped. “But-but how can you not!” she cried.

  “It’s… I-I don’t-” Edward stammered. “I don’t regret the fact that you are my wife, Daff,” he rasped possessively, taking a step closer to her, to close the wide gap that had formed between them. “I might regret how it came about, and how I behaved thereafter, but I don’t regret the fact that you belong to me,” he declared huskily, reaching for her and dragging her against him.

  “You can’t mean that!” Daphne whispered, her voice trembling. “It-it isn’t possible!” she whimpered, shaking her head numbly.

  Edward pressed
a hand gently against either side of her face and held her still. “Why do you say that?” he breathed, letting his eyes gaze into hers, how would it be possible for any man to resist such a treasure.

  “You didn’t want me…”

  “I want you now!” Edward growled fiercely, moving his hands to Daphne’s waist so that he could grip her tightly. “I want you, Daff,” he murmured against the top of her head.

  “Edward?” Daphne gasped. Could this be real? “Oh Edward,” she murmured, cuddling close to his chest, simply needing to hold him near. “I want you too,” she whispered, guessing that he had heard her by the way that his arms suddenly locked around her waist, almost crushingly tight.

  She had always wanted him, always.

  Chapter 34

  “Daphne,” Edward growled, refusing to release her until several minutes had elapsed and his wife had hesitantly reminded him that their presence really was required downstairs. Edward muttered something about ordering a tray of food to be brought upstairs, but Daphne refused to stand for it.

  She waited while he finished dressing however, not yet feeling confident enough in her surroundings to go down alone. Daphne still couldn’t quite adjust to the fact that she was now the mistress of Packwood House – at least for the time being at any rate. She truly expected Lady Margaret to pop out from one of the rooms and scream ‘usurper!’ at her.

  “Whom did you want to invite to your ball, Edward?” she mused, suddenly thoughtful. If she was going to run a country manor then she might as well start and do it properly!

  Her husband shrugged, tugged on his last boot, and then made for the door. “Whomever you think should be invited to our ball?”

  “Edward!” Daphne sighed, slightly exasperated. “Are you planning on helping organize this party at all?” she asked, tapping her foot. Her husband just shot her his perfectly heart-melting boyish grin and shrugged again sheepishly.

  “Isn’t that why I need your help, Daff?” he teased charmingly. “To help organize my muddled little life?”