Ann Lethbridge - Regency Society

‘I have watched you, and it is not as bad as all that,’ she snapped back. ‘You manage quite well on your own, when you are in familiar surroundings.’

‘But I have no evidence that she will adjust as well as you have when faced with my disability. You have been unusually understanding, and our arrangement, pleasant though I hope it is for you, is a temporary one. But she should not be put through the bother of a lifetime with me.’ He closed the locket and put the picture back into his pocket.

‘Nor, apparently, should she be put to the bother of asking her what she wishes.’

‘It is what I wish that concerns me,’ he said. ‘I do not wish my heir to be blind, nor my wife to look on me with pity, knowing how easy it is to hide the truth from a husband who cannot see her.’

‘You do not trust her to be honest.’ And, in truth, she was not.

‘I would much rather she cuckold me when I am not present than when I am.’ He laughed again. ‘Either way, I cannot see it.’

‘You are horrible.’

‘One more proof that my wife is better off without me.’

Adrian was laughing at her, and at their marriage. ‘And have you thought, even for a moment, how she might feel to be abandoned, with no explanation? She blamed herself.’ She wiped the first stray tear from her eyes with her sleeve, reminding herself that it was unladylike and childish, and that there was no way to know what his wife thought. So she added, ‘Or so I would expect.’

He was watching her intently. Or rather he was listening. She could tell by the little cock of his head that he had noticed her stifled sob. ‘You are thinking of your own marriage again, aren’t you?’

‘Perhaps.’

‘And I promised that I would give you no reason.’ He gathered her close and kissed her upon the forehead, and then the cheek. And then the mouth again, his tongue moving against hers slow and soothing and then faster, as though he meant to tease her back to happiness. He whispered against her lips, ‘Let me take the hurt away.’

She could not tell any more who he spoke to. Did he mean to make her forget? Or did he need to be free of his darling Emily, who, even now, could be lying in the arms of his most trusted friend?

It did not matter. She wanted the same thing he did: for the pain she had carried for so long to go away, and to feel needed and wanted by the one who held her. ‘Yes,’ she whispered back.

‘If you allow me into your bed tonight, I will prove to you that it is possible to meet both my needs and yours. You will have much pleasure and no regrets tomorrow, I promise.’

Emily put her arms around his neck and clung to him, caring for nothing but the feel of his body, close to hers after so long. ‘As long as we can be together, that is enough.’

‘Adrian, please. No more. It is almost dawn and I swear I am exhausted.’ Emily laughed, for she had never thought to speak those words, and certainly not to her husband.

‘Are you sure, minx?’ His hand stole between her legs again, cupping her sex under his palm. ‘Although you have left me too weak for another go, I do not think it is possible for a woman to grow too tired for this. Let us see, shall we?’

And it seemed she would know soon enough, for his fingers moved upon her again, as they had so many times since she had led him to her bed.

He had not allowed her to undress him, for he’d claimed that when changing without a valet, he preferred his clothes laid out in a way that ensured he could find them again.

She had watched in eager anticipation as he revealed without shame the body she had only glimpsed before. The years had not changed him, and she was glad of it. He was as muscular as she remembered, large and strong in ways that made her tremble to the core to look on him.

He had come to her side, kneeling on the edge of her bed and peeled her gown away from her as easily as he had the night before, kissing her face and her body, then toppling her back on to the mattress, his nakedness blending with hers in a tangle of arms and legs and fingers and tongues. He had licked and stroked her to ecstasy more times than she could remember, and spent himself in her hands, between her breasts, and between her thighs, touching her sex with his in a way that was very close to heaven. And then they had slept together, through the night, skin to skin, so close and familiar that they might have been sharing one body.

But not close enough. As he touched her now and dipped inside of her with the tip of his finger, she imagined him entering her, taking her as she had always wanted. She pressed herself against his hand, urging him deeper and remembering the size of him resting heavy in her hands the night before. ‘You are bigger than that,’ she whispered. And then she gasped, for he had slipped another finger, spreading them inside of her, stretching and moving faster and faster. And she discovered that she was not too tired after all, losing herself all over again in the miraculous maelstrom that she had come to expect from his lovemaking.

‘There, my darling,’ he said with a smile. ‘Admit I was right. Your body wakes at my touch.’

Emily put her arms around his neck and kissed him for what must have been the hundredth time that night. ‘And now it would like to sleep at your touch as well. The fire is dying and the sun is rising, but it is still several hours until breakfast. And perhaps the servants would welcome the quiet.’ For he had reminded her frequently that he could not see her response, and that it pleased him to hear her cry out.

But now he kissed her gently upon the cheek and disentangled her arms from his neck. ‘I had not realised it was so late. You must have your rest.’

She reached out for him, but he had already turned from her, feeling along the edge of the bed and then taking the three steps from the corner that would lead him to the chair with his clothes. ‘You are leaving me?’ She sat up enough to see the clock upon the mantel. ‘It is just past four,’ she admitted, with a yawn. ‘You can have no other commitments at this hour. Must you go?’

He chuckled. ‘If I am honest with myself, probably not. When you know me, you will see that I am the most idle of creatures. I sleep the days away, and my evenings are spent much as you saw the first one.’ He pulled on his shirt, tied his cravat in a rough knot, and came back to her, reaching to find her, and kissing her outstretched hand. ‘But since I am a wastrel and a rake, it would be better for your reputation if I were not seen leaving this place after breakfast, satisfied by more than a hearty meal.’

She sighed, for perhaps now was the right time to tell him that it did not matter in the slightest. But while they had shared a bed for hours, and done more together than she had ever expected, he had not succumbed enough to do the deed. Nor would he be likely to, if she made him angry.

When she did not answer he said, ‘Have you fallen back to sleep?’

‘I am merely hoping that if I do not agree, you will not leave.’ Because this was how it was supposed to be. How it should have been from the first. The two of them together, sharing the night and greeting the dawn.

‘I must go, so that I might return again. And before then, I must have a change of linen and a shave, if you wish me to be the presentable man you want, and not the base ruffian you found me.’ He released her hand and returned to the business of dressing. Then he said, casually, as though he did not wish to presume the invitation, ‘If you are not busy, of course. And if you desire more of my company. My nights are not empty, but they are not so full that I would not be willing to dedicate them to you.’

He probably meant, if she rejected him, to slip back to the place she had found him, and his inevitable doom. ‘No.’ She climbed out of the bed to come to his side.