She shook her head, trying to keep the reproach from her voice.
‘You do not need to make love to me Guy, to ensure I will not seek an annulment. I gave you my word on this marriage and I would not actively seek to betray that.’
‘Is that what you think I am doing?’
She lifted her chin. ‘Well, aren’t you?’
He tried to drop a kiss onto her lips, but as ever she averted her face so that it landed instead on the side of her mouth. She felt him take her hand, place it on his still pulsating shaft.
‘See what you do to me.’ His voice was a sexy growl. ‘This is why I want to make love to you - because I can’t keep my hands off you. It is sex, pure and simple. And don’t tell me that you don’t feel it too.’
‘Ah.’
Now that she had a label for it, Isabelle felt a little better. Of course that was what it was - it was just unnerving for someone like her who up to now had always abhorred anything of that nature.
‘Neither of us has made a good start in the marriage stakes,’ Guy continued. ‘But perhaps we can come to a better arrangement of it second time around? Especially if the sexual side of our relationship is strong like this, which I believe to be quite unusual.’
Isabelle returned his look solemnly for a moment, then nodded, before withdrawing her hand.
‘We can certainly try,’ she said coolly. ‘Thank you for showing me the pleasure to be had from the sexual act. I think-’ she dropped her gaze demurely, ‘-maybe I could enjoy learning more.’
It was a huge step forward and he could barely conceal his delight.
‘And I look forward to initiating you,’ he responded warmly.
And it was true. He had never looked forward to the sexual act with such anticipation before. His needs had been simple and not that frequent with Charlotte and Angelica, but now he found himself already obsessed with images of Isabelle’s lips around his cock; his shaft plunging into her, bringing her to wild, abandoned release.
He dropped a lingering kiss on her lips and somehow managed to dim the image enough to draw back and let her go. ‘I will need to go to Mama’s today to sort out some of her business. Do you still plan to visit Sophia?’
‘Yes. For I think she would like that.’
‘Then please pass on my best wishes, and we will meet back here this evening for dinner.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
‘Oh Isi, ’twas such a horrible day yesterday. When I walked into that room and saw Ralph handing a bundle of money to that minx I was sure it was to support a child, or worse her.’
‘Yet according to Guy that is not the case, so I hope you have been reassured about that?’
‘I am. But Ralph was not happy that I had followed him - that I had mistrusted him. Oh, it is all such a mess, but he should have told me. Although I might have been a little upset initially, I would have come around to seeing that she approached Ralph because she knew he was an honourable man, and she was desperate. He knows me well enough to know that. Even if I am with child and can be a little …’ she gave a rueful smile, ‘- histrionic on occasion.’
Her expression became more sober again as she sighed. ‘Anyway, we have called a truce and I know thiswill pass. We have both learned a lesson and I have come to realise over time, that when one has a serious disagreement with one’s husband, horrible though it is at the time, it serves to strengthen the relationship, not weaken it. I think that is because when you survive the turmoil, it makes you feel a little safer. We will come through this.
‘I am sure you will. I do not know a stronger, happier marriage than yours and Ralph’s.’
‘I am very lucky,’ Sophia said. ‘And there is not a day passes when I am not aware of that.’
She cocked her head to one side and looked at her friend quizzically. ‘I wish the same could be said for you Isi. I suppose there are no developments in yours and Guy’s relationship?’
Despite her effort to prevent it, colour warmed Isabelle’s cheeks, giving her away. Sophia clapped her hands.
‘There are,’ she exclaimed. ‘Tell me. Quickly.’
‘No, no. Not much. At least -’
Sophia leaned forward conspiratorially. ‘Tell me, have you…?’
‘No,’ Isabelle expostulated. ‘At least, not yet … not fully. And I am quite sure I should not be discussing such things with you!’
‘Pah. What nonsense. I am an experienced woman of the world don’t you know? And your closest friend. Tell me was it as bad as you feared?’
Isabelle hesitated, then gave up. ’No. In fact you were right, what we have done has been very … pleasant.’
‘Oh, that is marvellous! I have always suspected that Guy could be quite sensuous beneath that grumpy exterior. You must build on that Isabelle for if the heights of passion are good, they can forge a bond that is impenetrable.’
‘Yes, well, we will see,’ Isabelle replied uncomfortably. ‘Guy certainly seems to have developed an appetite for sex since we have become more intimate. And I must own to being very surprised that I seem to be gaining one too. It is so different to how things were with Richard. I never could have conceived that I might enjoy the act.’
The door opened and both ladies turned startled, as Ralph strode into the room.
‘Isabelle,’ he acknowledged warmly, coming over to greet her. ‘A pleasure as always to see you. I trust you have been teaching some common sense to my suspicious wife that it is not a good idea to be gallivanting around the countryside trying to catch her husband out in some imagined misdemeanour?’
Isabelle noticed the quick flash of ire in Sophia’s eyes and spoke quickly to diffuse the situation.
‘I have spoken with her sternly, Ralph, and I think certainly she has acknowledged the damage that secrets can cause in a relationship.’
Sophia stifled a chuckle and Ralph’s lips twitched. ‘Touché, Isabelle. You are as always perfectly correct. We have both had a lesson to learn. I came to pass my condolences onto you and Guy over the death of my Aunt. Please tell Guy I will visit him soon?’
‘Of course. He will appreciate that I know.’
‘Now, I am also here to tell you ladies that luncheon is served, if you would care to join me in the dining room?’
He offered an arm to them both, and Isi was quick to observe his swift expression of relief as his wife accepted his escort and they walked all together from the room.
It was four o’clock when her carriage pulled up outside her home, and as she climbed out she looked up at it in awe, as she always did. It was a magnificent old house and never would she have imagined herself a Duchess and the proud Mistress of such a place.
She watched as Guy appeared at the top of the steps waiting to greet her. He too looked magnificent standing there, master of his domain - and something stirred in the pit of her stomach at the sight of him. She was shocked at how quickly that feeling in her stomach turned to desire. She had been thinking about him all the way back from Sophia’s despite her best efforts not to - and now she was confronted by him, all she could think was that she was possessed of an overwhelming desire to bed him again. She could not understand this complete change of heart. Was it because she was grateful to him for showing her that she was as normal as any other woman - perfectly capable of enjoying sexual favours in a way she could not have previously imagined?
As he hurried down the steps to greet her however, she was aware of an urgency to his expression that gave her cause for alarm.
‘Is something amiss?’ she asked, taking his arm as he helped her to alight.
His voice was grim. ‘It is Charles. He is not well. We think he has the flu. I am going myself to seek the doctor’s advice and ask him to call on us.’
Isabelle’s face paled. Both Claudia’s children had suffered with the flu and it was a particularly severe strain. The thought of poor Charles contracting such a horrid illness filled her with dread.
‘I must go to him,’ she said swiftly. ‘Be as quick as y
ou can?’
She sat by her little step-son’s bed all afternoon as she wiped his fevered brow and struggled desperately to keep his temperature down.
‘How is he faring?’ Guy’s low voice came from behind her making her jump as she wiped the sweat from his brow yet again with a cool damp muslin.
‘Oh, you are back. He is very hot, running a fever as you can see. He does not seem to know who I am even. I know very little about nursing sick children.’
‘Dr. Porter will come as soon as he can. He is apparently delivering a baby as we speak.’
Guy sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at his son. Isabelle was quick to see the worry in his eyes. And the love.
‘He will be fine, Guy. I am sure of it. He is strong, like his father.’
‘Except that we do not know who his father is.’ He uttered the words in a bitter, low voice that she alone could hear.
She looked at him shocked. ‘What can you mean? You are his father - that is plain for anyone with a pair of eyes to see.’
‘Is it?’
The anguish on his face increased as he studied his son’s pale features intently. ‘When my wife left, she cast doubt on Charles’s paternity. I own it shook me, the thought that he might not be mine. I had loved him so unreservedly. I still do. Of course I do - but it was as if something in me died that day she told me. It created a barrier every time I looked at him. Now this is God punishing me for it.’
‘Of course it is not,’ Isabelle said firmly. ‘Charles has contracted the flu from his cousins, not by some random act of God. And soon he will be better and running around the house again amusing us with his chatter. He loves you, and he is yours. You know that is true.’
‘And I love him, Isabelle. Stupid that it takes an illness like this to make me realise how much. Whether or not he is my true son, if I were to lose him …’
‘Really Guy, I beg pardon. I do not mean to be rude, but I cannot believe that you can be such a simpleton as to doubt his paternity and not see your first wife for the mischief maker she was. One only has to look at him to see his likeness to you. Look at his features - the shape of his face, his smile, the colour of his eyes - even his hairline - are all identical to yours. See it and believe it - do not let Charlotte’s spite get the better of you and make you doubt something you know to be true.’
Guy stared at his son for a long moment, his face as pale as the white sheet covering Charles’ small body; then without a word, he rose from the bed and left the room.
When he returned some fifteen minutes later, Isabelle was sitting on the bed softly stroking Charles’ hand. She felt Guy’s warm clasp on her shoulder and she looked up at him.
‘Thank you Isabelle,’ was all he said. ‘I think I can relieve you for a while, if you don’t mind? I would like some time with my son.’
‘Of course.’
For a moment she was forgetting that Charles was not hers. Unbelievable though it may seem, she had come to think of herself as his mama these few short weeks of her marriage. But of course she was not. She had no real right to be here.
‘I will join you in fifteen minutes for dinner. Then maybe we can both return here to keep vigil over our son,’ Guy told her, as if reading her mind. ‘He has need of us both at this time I feel.’
They sat with him until midnight and it was as if in the quiet, dim light of the room, Guy was able to shed some of the protective cloak he wore around him as for the first time he talked of his first marriage.
‘At first I put things down to Charlotte’s age and immaturity. She was an only child and had been much indulged; but as time wore on I came to see that hers was a shallow nature intent on little else than pleasure seeking. That I could have borne for the sake of my family name, and even her constant infidelities that I felt made me look a fool; but when she showed no feelings even for her son - when she started using him as a pawn - I knew then I could not spend the rest of my life with such a woman, no matter the shame that would bring.’
‘I cannot understand any mother who could leave their child,’ Isabelle whispered, her eyes drifting to Charles’ face that looked more peaceful now in repose. The worst of the fever seemed to be passing as the doctor had predicted it would, but he looked so small and vulnerable as he lay in the enormous bed.
‘I cannot see you doing that Isabelle. But you too had problems - more serious than mine I am thinking - in your marriage?’
Isabelle hesitated. She had never talked to anyone about what had gone on. She felt such shame. As if it were her fault.
‘My husband could be violent. Especially after he had partaken of some drink. He also, as I believe you are already aware, led something of a debauched lifestyle. It was … difficult for me.’ The customary diffidence had crept back into her voice, a sign of her self-protection Guy was beginning to recognise. He had a strong desire to peel those layers away; to reach the woman beneath.
‘Come,’ he said, rising from his chair. ‘I think we can leave Charles safely in the hands of his nanny for the rest of the night. She will call us in the unlikely event he takes a turn for the worse.’
Outside Isabelle’s door, Guy surprised her by following her into her room. ‘Do you have any objection if I join you tonight, Isabelle? I think we might both appreciate some company?’
’N…no, of course not.’ She was exhausted, but her heart began to pump in anticipation.
‘I will leave you to the administrations of your maid but join you in a little while, after I have partaken of a brandy. Loosen your hair for me, will you?’
After he had gone, Isabelle went through her nightly ritual but her mind was teeming. She was remembering the throaty rumble of his voice as he’d brought her to pleasure, the way his thick shaft pulsated in her hand as she stroked it; the almost pained expression on his handsome face as he came. It was all very unsettling and as she climbed into her bed she found herself eagerly anticipating his arrival. She gave a huge yawn as she settled down into her pillows and waited. It had been a long day.
Returning to her room refreshed and ready for the night to come, Guy frowned at the sight of his wife’s sleeping head on the pillow. Dammit, she had surely not fallen asleep on him when he was already hard as houses at the thought of what might be to come? It was more than a man’s pride could take. He strode swiftly over to her bed and got in beside her.
But on the verge of waking her, he stopped. She looked so peaceful lying there with her hand tucked under her chin in that way. And this time he could tell she truly was asleep. He found himself settling in next to her, enjoying looking at her as she lay there. She had stunned him earlier on, and he found himself looking forward with great pleasure to all the other nights that lay ahead. He was a lucky man. She ran his home like clockwork and was able to satisfy his sexual appetite better than any woman he’d known. What more could a man ask from his marriage?
He frowned as the realisation hit him that he did seem to want more. He had a growing yearn, he realised, to get to know her, understand her - show her that she could place her trust in him and he would not let her down as her first husband had.
Now what the deuce was that all about? Was he turning into a sop, for God’s sake?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
When Isabelle awoke the next morning, she was alone. Her immediate concern was for Charles, and stopping only to grab a wrap to cover her night dress, she swiftly made her way up to his bedroom. Guy was already there, helping his young son to sip some medicine.
‘It will ease your throat,’ he encouraged gently, ‘and help you sleep so that you may better recover.’
‘I feel hot, Papa.’
‘Then I will ask Nanny to bring you some cool muslins that she may bathe your forehead. Ah, here is Mama. She will keep you company while I speak to Nanny.’
‘How are you feeling?’ Isabelle asked softly, sitting down on the bed. She was relieved to see that he looked a little better and felt a little cooler.
‘My head hurts, a
nd my throat,’ he said in a feeble voice.
‘It is horrible I know, but you are being very brave and it will soon pass. Your Papa and I were worried about you last night. You were not at all yourself.’
‘Papa came to see me, didn’t he?’
‘He did indeed. And we sat together here with you until the worst of your fever had passed. We will keep dropping in to see you today to make sure that you are still on the mend but it will take a few days yet before you are properly recovered.’
‘I’m very sleepy.’
Isabelle rose. ‘Then I will leave you to get your rest, for that is the most beneficial medicine you can have. And when you wake we will return.’
Back in her room, on the verge of calling her maid to assist her, she looked up in surprise as the door opened and Guy walked in.
‘I missed our rendezvous last night,’ he said, with that deep smile that seemed to do funny things to her stomach. ‘You were sleeping like a baby when I joined you and I did not have the heart to disturb you.’
‘Oh, I am sorry. I did not mean to fall asleep.’
‘Did you not?’
‘No. I was a little tired after sitting with Charles I suspect.’
She’d known that he had slept in her bed last night, for a couple of times when she’d stirred she had been aware of his solid presence next to her.
‘I forgot to ask you yesterday how things went with Sophia? You had a good day, I trust?’
‘Thank you, yes. Things seem to have quietened down between the pair of them and they are in a period of reflection I think. They asked me to pass their condolences to you. How was your day at your mother’s house? Not too difficult I hope?’
‘It was not easy. And then to come back to the news about Charles and see him lying there, looking so poorly-’
He was looking tense and strained, and she had an urge to ease the furrow from his brow. She turned back in her seat at her dressing table, disconcerted by this unusual pull of empathy.
Desperate Measures (Regency Undone) Page 11
