Ann Lethbridge - Regency Society

‘What would you call it, then?’ he asked. His hands bunched in her skirt, pressing their hips together, but his lips brushed lightly against hers.

‘I think you are trying to seduce me again.’

One of his hands found the pocket slit in the side of her skirt, and reached inside to press his palm against the bare skin of her leg. ‘Am I likely to be successful?’

She rubbed her cheek against his. ‘I think you might be.’ She swayed against him, letting him urge her closer, slipping one of her legs between his and drawing her foot up the inside of his calf. He caught her leg between his, tightening his muscles, and she felt the now-familiar rush of feeling, knowing he was close to her, knowing what would come next between them.

She rubbed herself against him with a little moan, and he pushed her back against the edge of a desk, getting some distance between their bodies to put a hand down the loose bodice of her gown. ‘You are a most welcoming woman, my dear. Bare under your dress again tonight. I think, if I had a mind to, you would let me take you here.’

‘Yes,’ she said with a groan, thinking how wonderful it would be if he would lose control.

‘I could just hoist up your skirt …’

‘Yes …’ He was kissing her, short sharp bites on her lips, down her throat.

‘Undo a few buttons …’

‘Yes …’ One hand, tight upon her breast, the other in her skirt, squeezing her leg.

‘And I could be inside of you, before anyone was the wiser.’ He was holding her body a tantalising inch from his. And she pressed herself down onto his thigh.

‘Show me,’ she whispered back and pushed her hands between the buttons of his vest, searching to touch skin and not clothing.

‘Wait.’ He laughed. ‘Wait. There is time. We do not need to rush. Let me take you into the bedroom.’

But if they took their time, he would be careful. And while it would be wonderful, it would not be what she truly wanted. ‘No. Here, now. Quickly.’ She kissed him, deep and wet, pushing her tongue into his mouth, sucking his back into hers.

And for a moment, he stopped resisting her and pulled her hips forwards, wrapping a hand around them to lock her sex to his, grinding against her through their clothing. She wrapped her arms around his neck, lifting herself onto her toes, making it easier to join with him.

Then he pulled his lips from hers and gave a shaky sigh. ‘No, my sweet. Let us go lie down and treat each other properly.’

‘And suppose I do not wish you to be proper?’ she said. ‘Suppose I wish you to be rough with me, and finish with me quickly and carelessly, in a public room, because you cannot stand to wait?’ She ran her leg up between his thighs until she could feel his manhood and pressed hard against it, rubbing her knee against him until he groaned.

Then he unwrapped her arms from his body, trying to part them. ‘You do not understand,’ he said. ‘It is not that you do not tempt me.’

‘Then give me what I want,’ she demanded and lifted her own skirt to bare herself, pressing her naked sex against the front of his trousers, so close to him that she wanted to weep with frustration.

Without thinking, he swore and his mouth covered hers again, and his hand fumbled to open his trousers, pushing the cloth away until they were skin to skin. He parted from her, just enough to mutter, ‘Lean back, just a bit.’ And now he was resting between her legs, rubbing himself gently against her and peppering her lips with desperate little kisses. ‘Just for a moment. Just a taste of you. I will be careful. I promise.’

She smiled, trembling, waiting for the delicious shock of sensation that would soon come. ‘You do not have to be careful with me. Never with me. I am yours, Adrian. I love you.’

And then it was over. He jerked away from her so fast that it was as though she had burned him, hurrying to do up his buttons although he was still obviously in need of her. ‘I think, my dear, that we had best take supper. Suddenly, I find myself in need of a cooling drink.’

Emily held out a hand to him, remembering too late that he could not see it. But neither could he see her crimson cheeks, or the beginnings of tears. Then she smoothed her skirt back into place and wrapped her arms around herself as a shield against his rejection. ‘Do you really? Do you think I will forget my feelings for you? Or do you wish to distract yourself?’

‘Both, perhaps.’ He looked older than he had a few minutes ago. His face was serious and lined with stress, and his posture stiff and unnatural, as though he was guarding himself from her as well. ‘I do not think you understand what you are saying to me, and I do not mean to take advantage of a generosity that is based on lies and suppositions, no matter how pleasant they might be. You do not love me. You cannot.’

‘I do,’ she cried. ‘Do not think to tell me the contents of my heart, just because you wish it to be other than it is.’

‘We have known each other for only a few days. And what there has been between us is not love. It is something else entirely.’

‘Perhaps that is how it is for you,’ she said, ‘but I have known you for ever. And for as long as that, I have loved you.’

He had nothing to say to that, and stood a little bit apart from her with a strange, lost look on his face, as though he feared that any direction he might move would be misinterpreted by her, as his other actions had been.

She wanted to gather him close, to kiss his sightless eyes, and to tell him he had no reason to deny her or her love. There was nothing more natural in the world than for him to give in to the temptation and join with her. Her heart ached for it—just as her body ached for the child that he refused to give her.

She took deep, slow breaths, willing the passion in her to subside, leaving cold emptiness in its wake. For a few moments, it had been as if the barriers he kept between them had fallen. He had returned to her, was with her, body and soul. And for that time, no matter what he might claim now, he had been ready not just to make love, but to love her without fear of the future.

But now he was gone again. Hiding from his wife. Hiding from his lover. And even though they shared the same room, she felt lonelier than she had a week ago, when he had seemed as distant from her as a ship on the horizon.

Though it did not matter how she looked, she put on a false smile and said, ‘You are right. There is a supper laid for us in the dining room. Let me take your arm, that you might lead me to it.’ She put her hand in the crook of his elbow and gave him the direction he needed so that he might walk her to the table. They seated themselves and ate in near silence, with only the occasional nervous comment from him about the tenderness of the vegetables, and his gratitude to the cook for doing such a thorough job of boning the salmon.

When it looked as though he was ready to give a lengthy oration on the dessert, Emily cut him off. ‘I am sorry if I upset you.’

‘You did nothing of the kind,’ he assured her, a little too quickly.

‘Of course I did. And I would understand if you did not want to stay with me tonight.’

‘Of course I wish to stay,’ he said, reaching across the table to grasp her hand, ‘but I do not know if it is wise.’ And then he squeezed her fingers. ‘But I do not know if I want to be wise, if it means losing my time with you.’

‘That is a comfort. I promise not to say it again.

You needn’t worry.’ It. As though she felt some objectionable thing that needed to be hidden.

‘Actually, I would prefer that you are honest with me. It is most refreshing to find a woman who speaks frankly.’

‘Thank you,’ she said, hating herself for the lies, wanting to scream the truth in his face. I am your wife. Your Emily.