Ann Lethbridge - Regency Society

Love me.

‘It is just that I do not want you to raise your hopes about what can be between us in the end. It is not that I do not … have feelings for you. Strong feelings,’ he amended. There was a wistful quality in his voice, as though he were staring through a shop window at something he could not have. ‘You are a friend and confidante. Someone I trust implicitly and who trusts me in return. If that is the true definition of a lover, then that is what you are to me. And that is what I wish to be for you.’

Emily stared down into her plate, thinking of how it had been in Derbyshire. Then, such pretty words would have sent her heart racing. He felt strongly for her. He wanted her. She was something like a lover to him. Why could she not be satisfied? Why was that not enough?

Without releasing her hand, he stood, drawing her up with him. From memory, he led the way from the table to the bedroom. He took the time to arrange his clothes as he removed them, but took no such care with hers, opening the buttons at the back of her gown and letting it fall to the floor at her feet. He lifted her out of it and set her upon the bed with a kiss on the lips before sliding his body down hers, taking her breasts with long slow licks, smoothing his hands over her ribs and settling himself between her legs to kiss there, tenderly, worshipfully.

She closed her eyes and gave herself over to his ministrations, the tug of teeth, the gentle probing of fingers, the tentative invasions of his tongue. And she told herself that it was greedy of her to want more when he was giving her something that felt so good. And she knew, from the previous times he’d done it, that what he was doing had the strength to rend her soul from her body and send it crashing back to earth again.

The final pleasure was slow in coming. And when it came, she wept.

The sun was well up by the time Adrian awakened. He did nothing to acknowledge it for his lover was still sleeping on his arm. The night had been as glorious as the night before, and parts of the night before that. As exciting as the fight in the tavern. And probably almost as dangerous.

I love you.

When she had said it, along with the abject terror it had raised in him had been the ghostly echo of a response in his own heart—how could something as perfect as the time they spent together not have some deeper feeling in it? He smoothed a hand over her curls and she nuzzled him in her sleep.

If she had said nothing, he’d have ignored his intentions and taken her up against the wall in the salon, trusting that she would tell him if they were not alone—he could not have heard a servant’s footstep had he tried, his heart had been beating so loudly. Apparently, there was madness in what he felt for her as well.

And then she had said the words, and he’d stopped himself, too near the brink. He’d taken her to dinner, then he’d taken her to bed. And he’d loved her in all the ways he could until he was sure that she had forgotten.

But her pillow was wet with tears. And in her sleep, she had whimpered like a lost child.

She stirred; he ran a soothing hand over her back, wishing that she would sleep again. It felt good to be here and he did not want to go. She rolled off his arm to free it, and he could feel her and see the shadow as she propped herself up on her elbows in the pillows. ‘You are not going to run away from me in the dawn?’

‘I am afraid it is too late for that already. But I must go soon.’

‘Then stay a while longer,’ she said. ‘Give me time to wash and dress. I will go with you and see you home.’

He frowned. ‘There is no need to help me. I am quite capable of managing a carriage ride, you know.’

‘Of course you are, Adrian.’ She rose from the bed, and opened the window curtains without waiting for a servant, letting the light stream in on them. ‘But it is a beautiful morning. And to walk in the park, for just a little while, would be delightful.’

‘You should not go out without escort,’ he said absently, wondering if she meant to take a maid with them as well.

‘I will have you.’

‘You will not.’

‘Just a short outing together. In sunlight.’

‘Do you wish for me to ride in Rotten Row?’ he snapped, wishing that he had not just revealed the fear he felt when he thought of so public a place. ‘I suspect that would be most amusing for all concerned.’

‘Of course I do not wish you to ride. If you mean to break your neck, then I pray you, find another way. You cannot trust a horse to do the deed without undo suffering. To me especially, for I would not wish to watch.’

And now she had made him laugh, against his better judgement.

‘But there is nothing wrong with your legs, is there?’ She had come back to the bed and her fingers were stroking them, with faint touches meant to raise the hairs and tease the nerves to restlessness.

He pulled away from her and sat up, dangling his feet off the edge of her bed. ‘No.’

‘How long has it been since you have enjoyed a simple walk in the park? You prowl the streets at night, of course. But it would be nice to feel the sun on one’s face.’ She crawled after him, putting her arms about his waist and giving a little squeeze. ‘For both of us.’

She was right, of course. It must be difficult for her to meet only at night. While the secrecy was necessary, it must make her feel as though he was ashamed of her company. And he knew how sensitive she still was on the subject of her worth. ‘It is not just a matter of revealing ourselves, my dear. I have not made my condition publicly known. And while it is possible to disguise it in familiar territory and for short periods of time, should I be seen blundering into a tree in Hyde Park, I suspect that the world will be too soon completely aware.’

‘I am suggesting nothing of the kind,’ she argued. ‘It is not fashionable there until late in the afternoon. If we go now, no one will be about. We could keep our stroll short, on a path that is straight and level and far away from Kings Road. If you take my arm, you might lead me, and I will inform you of any obstacles, just as we do here. It will be most uneventful.’

‘And not particularly interesting. If you wish to spend the day with me, I can think of better uses for your time.’ He leaned against her, feeling her breasts pressing into his back, and her breath upon his neck.

‘If a morning outing bores you, then you need have nothing to fear from it,’ she responded tartly.

‘Fear? I faced Napoleon’s army without flinching. I do not avoid the park because I am afraid.’ Terrified was more the word.

‘Of course you are not. But I do not see why you cannot give me what I ask, when it is such a small thing.’

‘It is because it’s so small that I see no value in it.’ He reached behind him to touch her face. ‘Perhaps I could buy you a trinket. Some fobs for those lovely ears.’

‘And how would I explain them to my friends? Would I tell them that my husband had given me a gift?’ Now it was her turn to laugh bitterly. ‘They will assume that I am unfaithful far more quickly from that than if they see me taking the air with a male acquaintance.’

She was glib this morning, and as frank as she had been from the first. But last night she had said she loved him. And he was pretending she had said nothing, and treating her little better than a whore, kept for one purpose, and plied with jewellery to avert a sulk. He shamed himself with his behaviour more than he ever could by groping his way around Hyde Park.

As if she could sense his weakening, she said, more softly, ‘We will not be out for long. And tonight, for your reward, you can do as you like with me.’ She was kissing his back now, and spreading her hands in his lap over his manhood, perfectly still as though waiting for his instructions. ‘But for now? You owe me this, at least.’