Naked to the waist his eyes wandered over every inch of her skin. A tiny dark mole on her shoulder blade was the only blemish. He fought the urge to bend his head and kiss it.
He took the bottle of oil and warmed a drip or two within the palms of his hands before laying them on her flesh for the very first time. Both of them let out pent up breaths of air.
“I’ll work my way down from your shoulders.” His whisper broke the silence that enveloped the room. His hands began moving in the gentlest of circles, massaging her skin, pressing on the tight muscles. The pads of his thumbs worked in towards the dip of her spine, his fingers stretching wide beneath her shoulder blades and sweeping round the swell at the sides of her breasts.
He swirled his palms over the curve of her waist and back in again, round in graduating circles, heating her already hot skin with the fragrant oil, and Sophia let out a deep groan of contentment.
“This is lovely.” Her breathing became deeper, her body even more relaxed.
“Good.” He added a little more oil. “I’m going to work a little lower. Tell me to stop if you need me to. I don’t want to hurt you.” He turned on the bed, shoving the bedside table out of his way until he could face her legs. He eased his fingertips beneath the waistband of her pantaloons, but stopped and retreated before he touched the curve of her bottom. “Can you still feel my hands?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
He spread his fingers wide under the tantalizing blue garments and kneaded the succulent flesh gently before gliding further.
I am going to burn in the pits of hell! A stab of guilt sliced through his stomach. He hadn’t meant to take advantage of her, but seeing her lying almost naked to his gaze was too much to resist. As soon as his fingers had touched her skin he knew it was all over. He wanted her so badly that he didn’t know if he would be able to stop.
The fragrance blossomed with the heat as his fingers found the dimples at the base of her spine. He retreated quickly before it was too late, shifting his seat again so that he wasn’t tempted to go even lower, but she suddenly yawned and stretched her arms above her head, burying them beneath the pillow. Her skin pulled and the mole on her shoulder moved, tempting him beyond endurance.
He sighed as he bent forwards and breathed in as deeply as he could before he pressed his lips to the tiny blemish. The thick twist of her hair had come loose again and her curls tickled his cheek. He swept the tip of his tongue over the dark, raised bump and then lifted away from her, only to bend further to kiss the slope of her spine.
“I want you.” His lips trailed fire as they made their way down to her decadent pantaloons and then back up again.
She looked at him from one dark eye.
“Help turn me back over.” Her voice was as husky as his own.
Damn! In his lust filled euphoria he had forgotten that she couldn’t feel a thing. He hesitated, his breaths loud in the silent room.
“No.” What the hell had he been thinking? He had been about to slake his lust upon a sick woman. He shook his head resolutely. “I won’t be able to stop and I don’t want our first time together to be anything less than perfect. For both of us.” He suddenly rose from the bed, his jaw clamped.
Sophia raised herself slightly, hoping to be able to turn, but although there was a deep throbbing sensation below her waist, she merely floundered when her legs refused to move.
“Help me, Brendon. I want to talk to you and I can’t while I am lying on my front.”
He snatched up her chemise from where it had slipped to the floor and eased it over her head and arms, making sure she was well covered before helping her turn to face him.
“I don’t think talking is going to help. I’m a sick bastard who has only ever thought of himself, and the last half hour has just proved it.” He sliced his fingers through his hair as he paced beside the bed. “I never should have tricked you into marrying me. Algernon would have been justified in calling me out and shooting me” He stalked towards the across the room. “I’ll ask Mrs. Lawson and Molly to come and help you dress. And I’ll ask the doctor to find someone suitable to help with your exercises. I am obviously not to be trusted.”
Sophia’s mouth fell open.
“Brendon! What are you on about? Whether you tricked me into marriage or not, you are my husband and I am your wife! And I refuse to be manhandled by anyone else.” She folded her arms across her breasts and lifted her chin.
Brendon closed his eyes for a second before looking back at her.
“Then you must resign yourself to lying in your bed for a long while, because I cannot do it again.” And he pulled the bell-rope before he grabbed a lamp from the mantelpiece and promptly walked from the room.
He strode down the corridor, hating himself for being so weak, but he was ready to explode and the feel of her skin under his tongue had been too much. She tasted of every sweet dessert he had ever eaten, her flesh softer than the finest silk, the scent of her more tantalizing with every breath he took. His balls ached with the need for release, and they very nearly had. Right there in his breeches at her bedside. She had all but unmanned him by doing nothing more than stretching her arms above her head.
And the worst of it was that even if he had been man enough to only take things so far, to pleasure her everywhere she could feel while ignoring everything she couldn’t, he didn’t know how. All the times his friends had bragged about their conquests, he had laughed heartily and bragged right back, but half the time he hadn’t a clue what they were on about. He had never wanted to know what they were on about. If sexual congress ever made him grunt like a pig and strike a woman, he didn’t want anything to do with it. Now he wished he had paid more attention.
Yes, he was attracted to breasts, and bottoms, and shapely figures, the same as any red-blooded male. Well, only Sophia’s breasts, bottom, and shapely figure, to be specific. But what to do with them when they were all revealed, was a different matter entirely.
His manly pride made him want to appear to be an experienced lover, full of carnal knowledge and expertise at giving pleasure. It was what had made him seek out Angelique and swear her to secrecy over the true basis of their relationship. Yes, he had paid for her apartments, had given her umpteen gifts, and had let her spread the word about his legendary efforts in the bedroom, but the truth was another matter. And given his lies and subterfuge, it wasn’t as if he could ask anyone for advice. If he confessed the truth now, they would laugh him out of town. He would never be able to show his face in public again.
He pressed his lips together thoughtfully. Algernon hadn’t laughed. His friend hadn’t even raised an eyebrow. Perhaps he should he ask the man for some tips. He bit back the thought instantly as he suddenly realized where Algernon would get his tips from. Brendon certainly didn’t want to know what Algernon got up to with Felicity. Hearing about one’s best friend making love to one’s sister certainly wasn’t going to help with anything. Would probably scar him for life. As if he wasn’t scarred enough already.
And there was no way he was going to ask Lucas. The man would howl the place down. Lord, how he wished he had just gone for it when he had the opportunity at sixteen. Waiting had seemed like a good idea at the time. Now he wasn’t nearly so sure.
And he had abandoned Sophia again, after stripping her naked and practically feasting on her flesh. She would hate him. And rightly so. Firstly for his uncontrollable lust and secondly for leaving her so suddenly.
He hated himself for his depravity. How could he have acted so when she lay helpless and at his mercy? And then abandoning her without making sure she was attended. It was fortunate that he had thought to ring the bell. At least Mrs. Lawson would be with Sophia within a few moments. Perhaps he should grant her wish and apply for an annulment. He ignored the screaming pain that shot though his heart. It would kill him to lose her, but perhaps it would be for the best. Maybe he could convince Algernon to keep her at Sommersford. She would enjoy being with all the children, watchi
ng them grow up around her.
A knife sliced his already shredded heart. What he wouldn’t give to have children with her, to watch her swell with them, birth them, to see them grow into fine young people, while he grew fat and grey at her side.
If he clenched his jaw any harder, he thought his teeth might shatter, but he didn’t know how to release the pressure. He stormed into his own room, his father’s old room, and paced out onto the balcony.
Mr. Dodds had replaced the missing stretch of balustrade. The new masonry stood out white against the weathered stone. Brendon leaned against it and stared out at the gathering dusk. He heaved out a breath and almost turned back towards the bedroom to look up at the rest of the house above, but suddenly remembered that Sophia could probably see him from his mother’s room. Might even call out to him.
He shook his head and strode back inside. Andrews stood staring at him.
“Everything all right, my Lord. You seem a little agitated. Might I suggest a bath and a light supper. I confess that I took the liberty of ordering the bathwater already. It should be here any moment. As to supper, I can bring something up here if you would prefer not to get dressed again for the evening.”
Brendon’s expression brightened for a moment before he shook his head.
“The bath maybe, but I don’t want anything to eat. I just want to sleep. I feel as though I’ve not slept in a fortnight.”
Andrews grinned.
“Ah! Young love! ‘tis a wonderful thing, my Lord, but fraught with difficulties. Or so I have heard. The bath will definitely help. Perhaps some of Mrs. Lawson’s lavender oils dripped into the water would be a good idea. They are wonderfully soothing, even if I say so myself.”
Brendon chose to ignore the man’s observations on love. As far as he knew Andrews had never so much as looked at a woman, but the bath did sound like a nice idea. Might clean out his own filthy mind.
“That and a bottle of brandy. Please tell me that we still have some. I might have to fire you if you don’t.” He began tugging his shirt over his head.
Andrews answered the tap on the door and supervised the bathwater before reaching into the wardrobe and producing a bottle of amber liquid.
“Your father’s finest.” He found a glass on the dresser and poured a generous measure before walking around the bathing screen and placing it on the table there.
Brendon finished undressing. Climbed into the tub and reached out for the glass of brandy. The water was hot and relaxing. He sipped from the glass, settled back into its steaming depths, and closed his eyes, trying desperately not to think of cream coloured skin and dark moles, and definitely not of alluring blue underwear with dark velvet ribbons.
Sophia sat in her bed fuming. Coward! The rat had run out on her again. At the first sign of trouble he always ran. What made a man who looked so physically strong actually so mentally weak? If she wasn’t lying useless in the bed she would have kicked him out anyway.
She fidgeted around trying to get comfortable until Mrs. Lawson or Molly arrived, but who knew when that would be. With the few staff they had and her confined to her room, there weren’t enough hands to manage the usual tasks, let alone help useless women lying in bed.
And it was so boring just doing nothing all day. She had moaned about Brendon’s bullying tactics, but she hadn’t meant her words. She liked his company, had come to know him over the last few days, more than she had ever in her life before. He could be thoughtful and remarkably deep. Who knew he plaited his sister’s hair.
And he was entertaining and fun, when he wasn’t acting like a complete arse and leaving her begging for more. More what she couldn’t fathom, but the sensations he had built in her definitely called for something.
She looked at the door when she heard some footsteps moving along the corridor outside, but they weren’t Brendon’s distinctive stride or Alfred’s doddering shuffle. She didn’t think they were James’ or Mrs. Lawson’s so they were Molly’s, but she probably assumed that Brendon still attended her and even though he had rung the bell, no one came to call on her.
Perhaps she could read while she waited for Mrs. Lawson to arrive. Brendon had put some books on her bedside table the night after they were married. Not that she had looked at many of them. She had been too exhausted, but Brendon’s massage had relaxed her so much she now felt refreshed and unable to close her eyes. She reached out, only to discover that he must have inched the cabinet away from the bed while giving her the massage.
She stretched further but suddenly realised she had stretched too far and couldn’t stop herself from falling. She let out a muffled shriek as the bedclothes came with her and she grappled at the table, desperately trying to regain her balance, but it was too late. Her legs dragged the sheets behind her as she tumbled towards the floor and cracked her head on the way down.
Stars swirled in her vision. She tried to raise herself but a bout of nausea gripped her and she pressed her hand over her mouth in an effort to stop herself being sick. She lay quietly for a few moments, staring out of the tall windows into the gathering dusk. Was that a shadow she saw outside the window?
“Brendon!” Her voice wasn’t as strong as she hoped. “Brendon! Help me!” She tried again. The shadow shifted and for a moment she thought he was about to cross the terrace to her window, but he veered back to the other side of the balcony and disappeared from view.
Helpless tears coursed down her cheeks. Insensitive pig! She twisted away from the window but had forgotten she was so close to the bedside table. She hit her already sore temple once again and lifted her fingers to touch the wound. Her fingers came away sticky with blood. She had obviously hit herself harder than she knew.
The stars already in her vision began to spin in ever decreasing circles and the nausea hit her again. She fought the blackness that began to hide the pinpricks of light, but nothing would stop it. It closed in until she could only see the faintest twinkle, and then that disappeared too and she knew no more.
Chapter Twenty-Two
A Wife’s Wrath
“What the bloody hell were you thinking!” James raged at Brendon who sat with his head in his hands quite unable and unwilling to defend himself.
“I wasn’t thinking. Not with my head, at any rate,” he mumbled, feeling every bit as guilty as James was trying to make him.
“She could have died! If she had pulled the lantern from the table, the whole place might have gone up in flames. We could have all died.” He paced the study where he had found Brendon after seeing the doctor to the door.
Brendon roused himself.
“Well, not you. You would be quite safe as you still haven’t moved in here from the stables, even though you are her half brother and we have readied another bedroom.”
James stopped pacing and stood before Brendon.
“Don’t try throwing that in my face. I may be Sophia’s half brother, but I am no relation to you except via your marriage. And as you now apparently don’t employ me any longer, you can’t tell me what to do.”
Brendon came to his feet.
“No, I don’t and I cannot, and we would never have found out the connection if I hadn’t come here, so don’t go laying the blame for that at my feet. You can have words with my parents when they eventually bother to come and call.”
James narrowed his eyes.
“So now you are blaming your parents for you being here at all? She has a cut on her head, for God’s sake, and you let it happen to her. Why can’t you simply man up and admit that you aren’t strong enough for a woman like Sophia.”
“And why don’t you admit that if she wasn’t your sister, you would be trying to catch her eye!” Brendon accused back.
James staggered back a step, astounded at the allegation, before rounding again, his hands now clenched into fists.
“Don’t even think it! Even if I did want her, which I never did, she is way above my station and far too good for me. She is far too good for you too! And if you ever
accuse me of coveting your wife ever again, I will...” he stopped as the study door flew open and a whirlwind of silks quickly followed.
“YOU WILL NOT DO ANYTHING! Either of you! You will both calm down before I box the ears off the pair of you.” A glowering Lady Marianne Spencer swept in, followed by her husband.
Lord Spencer grunted and muttered behind his wife.
“Ah! So that’s who he gets his rotten temper from. Didn’t think it was from my side of the family.”
Lady Spencer glared over her shoulder at her husband.
“Do shut up Gregory. Don’t think I can’t box your ears too, and for the scheme you recently pulled I would say it wasn’t uncalled for.”
Lord Spencer’s gaze quickly dropped to the floor and he began to twiddle his thumbs.
“What stunt?” Brendon enquired.
Lady Spencer waved his enquiry away and moved forwards to receive a kiss on her cheek.
“I do not wish to discuss that now. I only heard two days ago, from none other than Lucas Caruthers, that you have been married for a week. And by the time I haul your father’s arse out of his sick bed and arrive here, I discover that you have already nearly killed your wife. What on earth is going on and where is my darling daughter in law?”
Brendon’s fell open at his mother’s language.
“Mother! I don’t know what has come over you, but let me call for some tea and perhaps I can explain.”
“You can explain all right! I want to hear what has been happening right from the moment you left Belgrave Square to come here. And then I want to see Sophia and discover the truth!” She turned and swept back out.
Brendon stared at his father who simply looked sheepish while he adjusted the sling on his arm and then followed his wife.
A Promise of Pure Gardenias: Flowers of the Aristocracy (Untamed Regency Book 2) Page 21
