by Laura Martin
‘Why are you smiling?’ he asked, the corners of his own mouth turning up in response to her smile.
‘I was just thinking how you cannot help yourself. No matter what I do or say, you’re always the perfect gentleman.’
He shrugged. ‘It was the way I was raised.’
‘Perhaps.’
‘How would you like me to act?’ Oliver asked, his voice low.
She swallowed, taking her time to ensure her voice didn’t come out croaky or high pitched.
‘I like you just the way you are,’ she said softly.
‘A few weeks ago you were pressing me for a divorce.’
‘A girl can change her mind.’
‘I hope you don’t change it back again.’
‘It was a shock, that’s all. A complete change in circumstances.’
‘And now you’re used to the idea of being married to me?’
‘I am.’
There was a heavy tension in the room as if both could see the direction their exchange was heading in, but neither could quite believe it.
‘Perhaps you should remind me of some of the advantages of being a married woman,’ Lucy said, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks, but refusing to acknowledge her embarrassment.
‘Let me think. Being married gives you a constant companion at the breakfast table,’ Oliver said, keeping his tone serious despite the mirth dancing in his eyes. He was teasing her and she liked it.
‘Very important. It is pleasant to have someone to discuss current affairs with.’
‘Someone to dance with at balls and soirées,’ Oliver continued.
‘And you don’t even have to make idle chit-chat if you don’t want to,’ Lucy added. ‘You’re married, after all—no need for unnecessary conversation.’
‘Good point—which leads me on to a great advantage for you: no lecherous swine trying to seduce you and rob you of your honour.’
Lucy couldn’t help but smile. ‘No one cares about honour once you’re a married woman.’
‘I care,’ Oliver said. ‘Any man who bothers you with his unwanted advances I will take by the throat and sling to the kerb.’
She believed him, too.
‘Any other advantages?’ she asked, her voice coming out as barely more than a whisper.
He edged closer, careful not to jolt her tender legs, and stopped only when his face was inches from hers.
‘I’m trying to think,’ he said. ‘I’m sure there is something else. Something that married men and women can enjoy without worrying about the consequences.’
‘What could that be?’ Lucy mused, wishing he would hurry up and kiss her. The wait was excruciating, especially when she could see they both wanted the same thing.
‘Perhaps I should show you.’
‘A demonstration is always better than an explanation,’ she agreed.
‘Close your eyes.’
Obediently she did. She waited—ten seconds passed, then twenty. Just as she was about to peek she felt his lips brush against hers ever so gently. Nothing more than a brief, sensational contact and then they were gone. Her eyes flew open and at the same moment Oliver kissed her again, this time his lips hard and insistent. Instantly all rational thought flew from her mind and she was entirely consumed by the kiss.
‘You taste sweet,’ he murmured as he broke away to pepper kisses along the angle of her jaw before returning to her lips once again.
As he kissed her Lucy felt herself sinking back against the pillows, subtly inviting him to join her. It wasn’t what she’d planned, but the moment seemed right. Oliver had been chivalrous and attentive all day, all trip really, and every time she looked at him she felt her feelings for him grow.
Running her hands over his back, she urged him to come closer and immediately he obliged, adjusting his position until he was lying next to her.
‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ he said, motioning towards her legs.
‘You won’t.’
‘You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting this,’ he said quietly as he lay there, looking deep into her eyes. It seemed as though the admission came from deep inside, and he looked a little surprised at his own words.
For a moment Lucy felt as though the world beneath her had shifted. There was so much sincerity in his voice, so much depth and caring in his eyes, that for the first time she wondered why he had worked so long to find her, why he had persevered when all others would have given up.
Then all other thoughts were washed away as he kissed her again, filling her body with a wonderful warmth as gently his hands caressed her skin.
‘I need to see you,’ he said, his voice hoarse.
‘I’m right here.’
‘All of you.’
Lucy nodded, feeling a flutter in her chest. He’d seen her naked many times before, but suddenly it was important that he would still feel the same intense desire for the person she had become and the body she had acquired over the last year.
‘I’ll be gentle. Tell me if I hurt you.’
He helped her sit forward, then deftly began unfastening the back of her dress. Despite his obvious eagerness he moved slowly and steadily, not fumbling over the fastenings until Lucy felt her dress loosen and pool forward.
‘So beautiful,’ Oliver murmured, as his fingers traced a line down her back.
‘Take it off,’ Lucy instructed. She wanted his fingers to be able to go lower, touch more of her.
With some wriggling and shifting Oliver managed to lift the dress over her head, leaving her clad only in a thin cotton chemise.
‘I remember this,’ he said. ‘Another damn layer.’
She giggled at the tone of his voice, but didn’t protest when he lifted the cotton undergarment over her head swiftly, as well.
‘Better.’
Now she was naked, her lower half covered by the bedsheets, but her upper half completely and utterly bare under his gaze.
‘This is unfair,’ she pointed out. ‘You’re still fully clothed.’
‘All in good time,’ he promised.
She expected him to stand, to start shedding layers, but for a moment he sat looking at her, as if taking in every last detail. Then his lips were on hers again, kissing and nipping as she felt his body press against her now-naked skin.
Letting out an involuntary moan, Lucy felt her body tense with anticipation as his fingers danced over her skin, stimulating every inch before moving on. She felt her hips thrust towards him as his hands found her breasts and suddenly she couldn’t remember why she had stayed away from this man for so long.
Just as she began to wonder if she could take much more, Oliver pulled away. Lucy’s eyes flew open and she was just about to voice a protest when she saw him tearing off his own clothes. With a contented smile she watched him undress, her eyes roaming across his familiar body, working out what had changed in the past year.
‘Come here,’ she whispered as he shed the last piece of clothing.
Obligingly Oliver advanced towards her, taking his place on the bed beside her.
‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ he said, his voice low and husky, ‘so perhaps you had better turn over.’
He must have seen the confusion in her eyes so he gently turned her, positioning her on her side facing away from him. She trembled a little as she felt his body press in close behind her, his hardness against her buttocks. At first he hardly moved, just contented himself with kissing the back of her neck, the top of her shoulders, and draping an arm across her waist to caress her abdomen.
Lucy wanted to urge him on, but knew this was all part of the wonderful build-up of anticipation, so instead allowed herself to get lost in the sensations he was creating. It felt like her skin was on fire, prickling under his touch, and as his fingers dipped lower and lower she knew soon the sensation would only in
tensify.
‘Are you sure?’ Oliver asked, his voice a little tense with the strain.
‘Don’t stop’ was all Lucy could manage to say. ‘Just remember not to...’ She trailed off as he nodded.
His fingers touched her most sensitive place and she almost cried out, biting her lip as he circled and dipped, feeling the tightness building deep inside her.
He seemed to know exactly when her climax would come, for just a second before, he thrust inside her, causing her to cry out with pleasure as she tightened around him. Wave upon wave washed over her and she felt her hands gripping the bedsheets to anchor herself as Oliver began to slowly move inside her, wondering if she could take any more of this wonderful feeling.
Faster and faster he thrust, until Lucy knew she would climax again, her muscles tightening just as she heard him groan and felt him pull out before the moment of his own release.
They lay, her body nestled against his, both breathing heavily. Lucy felt a familiar glow wash over her and realised it was contentment. She’d experienced it a lot in the first few weeks of their marriage and now it was back, embracing her like an old friend.
‘I’ve missed you,’ Oliver murmured into her neck.
‘I’ve missed you, too.’ It was true, even if she had been trying to deny the fact ever since their reunion.
Slowly she turned over, grimacing as one bruised leg knocked against the other, but determined to complete the movement all the same. Once she was facing her husband she placed a hand gently on his face, tracing his features with her fingers.
‘You’ve been good to me,’ she said quietly. ‘I know that. And I’ve done nothing but make your life difficult.’
‘I’ll tell you a secret,’ Oliver said with a small smile on his lips. ‘You’re worth it.’
Chapter Seventeen
Oliver whistled as he pulled on his boots, looking up as his valet, a smart young man by the name of Simons, entered the room with his cravat.
They’d travelled back from Brighton ten days earlier and the intimacy they’d shared on their little trip away had been continued at home. Not only were they physically closer, but he felt Lucy was truly beginning to settle into life as Lady Sedgewick and enjoying it. For his part, every day the concern that he would wake up to find Lucy gone again was a little less and slowly he felt himself letting go of some of the residual resentment he felt from her behaviour when she’d fled without a word.
‘Are the boots to your satisfaction, my lord?’ Simons asked, jolting Oliver away from his contented thoughts about his wife.
‘The boots?’ Oliver repeated, looking down at his feet for a clue as to what the valet was talking about.
‘Yes, my lord.’
He looked down again. They were the same boots he’d had for nearly a year, comfortable, black and otherwise rather nondescript.
‘They seem to be fine, Simons,’ Oliver said warily, wondering if his valet was being unduly fussy.
‘They are polished to your satisfaction?’
Again Oliver glanced down. The boots looked polished and mark-free.
‘Yes, Simons.’
‘Very good, my lord.’
The valet turned to leave the room and Oliver was so baffled by their exchange he almost let him go without enquiring further.
‘Simons,’ he called as the valet was nearly out of the door. ‘Why all the questions about the boots?’
‘I have a new...assistant, my lord. I wanted to check you were satisfied with his work.’
‘An assistant?’ He’d certainly not hired anyone. And he’d never heard of a valet requiring an assistant before.
‘The young lad Lady Sedgewick brought to work in the household.’
‘Freddy? But I thought he was going to be working in the kitchen, as an odd-jobs boy?’
‘Not him. The other young lad. Charlie.’
So she’d sneaked another one of her charges from the Foundation to work in the house.
‘Ah, right,’ Oliver said, feeling peculiarly surplus to requirements in the running of his own household.
‘Will that be all, my lord?’
‘Yes, thank you.’
He finished dressing, taking time over his cravat. Most men let their valets take care of the more intricate parts of getting ready for an evening out, but the time Oliver had spent in the army had meant he was used to doing everything from polishing his shoes to shaving his face. He did let his valet do some of these tasks now, but actually getting dressed he preferred to do himself.
When he was satisfied he was presentable he made his way across the room to the door that connected his bedroom with Lucy’s. The past couple of nights they had taken full advantage of this handy route to each other’s bedchambers and now he barely waited for Lucy’s call of come in to open the door.
She was sitting in front of a mirror, her maid finishing off her hair, pinning the last few strands into place. Oliver had to admit that although this young woman Lucy had brought in to be her lady’s maid didn’t have any prior experience, she was shaping up well already.
He waited, sitting on the edge of the bed while Lucy finished with her preparations, before sending the maid away.
‘I’ve just been told we have another new addition to our household,’ Oliver said, standing as Lucy did and walking towards her.
‘Charlie, yes.’
‘And he is...’
‘A very nice young man.’
Oliver raised an eyebrow.
‘Very well. He’s been in a bit of trouble before, but he has a good heart.’
‘And he is going to be...’
‘Assistant to your valet,’ she said quietly.
‘Ah, yes, that vital position.’
‘Do you mind?’
‘Does it make you happy? Finding places for these waifs and strays of yours?’
She nodded.
‘Then, no, I don’t mind. Although I think my valet has enough assistants for now. Perhaps if you want to recruit any more we could think of who might be suitable for Sedgewick Place and a life in the country.’
Throwing her arms around his neck, she kissed him, making everything worthwhile.
‘Remind me why we have to go out tonight,’ Lucy murmured in his ear.
‘I think you’ll find it a very useful event,’ Oliver replied.
‘But wouldn’t you rather stay here?’
He felt a surge of desire for her that he almost gave in to, but he steeled himself. Sometimes a man had to make sacrifices for his wife.
‘Of course I would, but I promise you would rather go.’
‘I’m not sure about that,’ she said, kissing him gently on the lips.
Oliver groaned, glancing at the clock and wondering if they had time for a quick tumble into bed. The only problem was, it never was a quick tumble. As soon as Lucy started shedding layers he felt the need to explore every inch of her body, to make her writhe in pleasure before even thinking about himself.
‘Perhaps we could just...’ he heard himself saying.
‘Remember, it must be quick,’ Lucy said, her eyes dancing with laughter.
He watched as she hobbled towards the bed. Her legs were much improved from the accident nearly two weeks ago and it looked like there would be no lasting damage. The bruises were beginning to turn brown and yellow rather than the deep purples and blacks that had adorned her shins a few days ago, but she still limped a little when she walked. Perhaps it would be better if they stayed in.
She turned to him as she sat down on the bed, gripping the hem of her dress and beckoning him over.
Unable to stop himself Oliver crossed the room in two short strides, lifting Lucy gently and depositing her further back on to the bed.
‘Mind the dress,’ Lucy said, giggling underneath him.
‘Damn t
he dress.’
She laughed, which fired him further and quickly he sought out her lips with his own. Despite his words he was careful not to rumple the dress too much, pushing the hem up gently as his fingers roamed up the length of her legs.
Lucy pulled him towards her, urging him to enter her, and Oliver found he couldn’t resist. Together their bodies moved up and down, in perfect rhythm as if they’d been made for one another.
Faster and faster they moved, until the inevitable moment of climax, Oliver managing to pull out just in time, already longing for the day when he could stay inside her and not pull away. But for now Oliver was in agreement with Lucy; it would be best not to risk another pregnancy until they were sure of one another, sure of the fragile trust that they were beginning to build after so much had gone on between them these last few years. He was still concerned that should Lucy get pregnant she might flee again, might become distrustful and panic, and he knew he could not go through that again. Deep down he was also aware that he wasn’t ready to risk the heartbreak of losing another child himself. One day...if Lucy could be convinced, but not yet.
They lay cradled against one another for five minutes, Oliver enjoying the feel of the subtle movement of Lucy’s abdomen as she breathed in and out under his hand. Eventually she stirred and turned towards him.
‘Do you think one day...?’ Oliver said.
Lucy pressed her finger to his lips, shaking her head. ‘Don’t ask me that, please. Let’s just enjoy what we have.’
He nodded, unsure why he’d even thought of asking the question. Neither of them was ready, not yet.
‘I shouldn’t have worn silk,’ Lucy murmured, regarding her crumpled dress in the mirror.
‘You look wonderful.’
‘I look as though I’ve been ravished.’
‘I don’t mind people knowing I can’t keep my hands off my wife.’
‘They may not assume it is you doing the ravishing.’
‘Nonsense. Everyone can see you’re totally devoted to me.’
