Louise Allen - Regency Pleasures and Sins Part 1

‘You don’t want to—’ Her voice failed her.

‘Make love to you? Yes, of course I want to,’ he said matter of factly. ‘I am a man, you are a very attractive young lady who just happens to be my wife. But I have no intention of forcing an unwilling woman.’

‘You would not be—I mean, I would not be.’ Katherine swallowed. This was very difficult. ‘We had a bargain. I am resolved to honour my side of it. How else can I repay you?’

‘With a daily supply of plum cake for a week?’

‘Do not laugh at me!’

‘I am not, I respect your courage and your sense of honour. I should not have said what I did about the marriage being consummated. Of course it does not have to be: all that is needed is for us to be seen to have spent the night together.’

‘But we are married, we are here and you said you wanted to.’ Inwardly she flinched. Did she sound as though she was begging him to make love to her? Of course she was not, it could not be that making her feel confused and disappointed and hot inside.

‘I have been doing some thinking.’ Nick got to his feet and began to shrug off his coat. ‘What if you were with child as a result? You will have a hard enough time of it as it is without carrying a highwayman’s child.’

Katherine’s internal turmoil took a new frightening swoop. ‘I never thought of that.’

‘Yes, well, it happens. Now please, Katherine, get into bed. I have been dreaming of a good night’s sleep in a decent bed for weeks.’

‘You have the bed then, I will sit up.’ She felt as panicky as if he had begun to make love to her.

‘Do you want me to undress you and put you to bed?’ That glint was back in his eyes, the sensual drawl back in his voice. Katherine was in no doubt he would enjoy the tussle.

‘There is no need,’ she said with a dignity she was far from feeling. ‘If you would just turn your back, I will get into bed.’

He did so, spinning his chair around and sitting at the table. Katherine scrambled out of her clothes and into the nightgown she had brought. She had chosen the flimsiest, prettiest one she had while she was still buoyed up with her determination to prove willing and to please him; now it seemed scandalous.

She pulled the pins from her hair until it tumbled down her back and slipped into bed. The sheets came up to her chin. ‘I am in bed.’

‘Good. Now close your eyes in approved maidenly fashion and I will join you.’ He was laughing, the wretch. Katherine screwed up her eyes and reflected that if Nick Lydgate was getting some amusement from the evening it was no more than she owed him.

There was the sound of boots hitting the floor, the softer sound of clothes falling on a chair, then the covers moved, the bed dipped and he was beside her. Katherine felt his warmth, the touch of linen against her skin. Thank goodness he had retained his shirt. He smelt good; there was the familiar soap she bought for Philip, but under it a faint scent that could only be himself, clean, warm and relaxed.

‘That is a devilishly pretty nightgown, Kat.’ The straw mattress moved as he shifted to settle himself beside her. She opened her eyes just a fraction and saw he had snuffed all but two of the candles. ‘You should not be looking. Oh!’

He caught her in his arms and rolled her against his chest, his face buried in her hair. ‘My God, you smell good.’

‘No! You promised.’ Katherine wriggled.

‘I am not going to do anything but hold you and enjoy the scent of you. Now stop wriggling, it is extremely provocative and I will either break my promise or fall out of bed if you persist. That is a very charming noise you are making—you sound like a cross kitten.’

Katherine subsided. Infuriating man … but he did appear to be as good as his word, he was simply holding her. She could feel his breath stirring her hair, but his arms were strong and unmoving around her and his hands did not stroke or caress.

This was a very strange sensation, being held by a man. She tried to sort it out. The bed was surprisingly comfortable and she had drunk a whole glass and a half of wine, so her head felt a little muzzy. Nick’s arms around her, though unfamiliar, made her feel protected and safe. But his body—that was quite another thing. That made her feel anything but safe, yet she was not in the slightest bit frightened. Just shy and confused. He was hot and long and felt very hard and strong. She shivered, not from fear, but from a restless need to explore, touch …

‘Try and relax and go to sleep.’

‘I am relaxed.’

‘No, you are not, you are quivering.’

‘Oh. I am sorry.’ She must stop thinking about how this felt, think of something else. It did not take much effort to find a topic. The story Nick had just told her came back in all its horrifying detail. It was as effective as cold water splashed in her face. This man who was holding her so gently was going to be executed in just a few days for a crime he did not commit. Anger stirred again and with it the beginnings of an idea.

‘Nick?’

‘Mmm?’ He sounded half-asleep.

‘What was the name of the inn? The one at Box Moor.’

‘The Lamb, I think. No, the Lamb and Flag. Why?’ ‘Nothing.’ She yawned. ‘I just wondered.’ And slept.

When she woke there was daylight in the room from a high barred window and she had no recollection of stirring in the night. They were lying as they had gone to sleep, but in a far more intimate tangle. With the colour rising to her cheeks, Katherine realised that her nightgown had ridden up around her hips and one of Nick’s legs was over hers.

She felt him move and raise his head. ‘Kat? Are you awake?’

‘Umm.’

‘We had better get up soon, I heard the clock strike seven.’

‘Oh.’

Are you usually this chatty in the morning?’

She smothered a snort of amusement. ‘I do not know. I am not in the habit of waking up in bed with anyone.’

‘I am glad to hear it.’

She felt him throw back the covers and his warmth left her. Grumbling, she burrowed down into the body-shaped dip in the mattress, eyes tight shut.

‘You look like a cat who has finally managed to secure all of the sofa cushion,’ Nick remarked. From the muffled sound of his voice he was pulling a shirt over his head.

‘You let the cold in.’

‘I am sorry. But you must get up now. There is some cold water on the wash stand behind the screen in the corner and I am gazing fixedly at the ceiling and a large spider directly above the bed.’

‘Wretch.’ Reluctantly Katherine opened her eyes and jumped out of bed. The water was indeed cold, and by the time she had washed and dressed she was well and truly awake. And the chill seemed to have settled in a hard knot in her stomach.

When she emerged, Nick was laying the remains of the meat and bread out on the table and had found the bottle of ale she had included. ‘Are you as silent over breakfast?’

‘No.’ It was strangely difficult to look at him. Katherine wondered how she would be feeling if they had made love last night. She jumped as he pulled the cork from the bottle with a pop and made herself smile and take the proffered glass. ‘Thank you. Did you sleep well last night?’

‘So well. I should not have done with a beautiful woman in my arms. I should have lain awake in torment.’ He laughed as Katherine frowned at him. ‘You are very soothing.’

That was a mixed bundle of compliments to be sure. ‘Beautiful’ produced a warm glow. No one had ever called her that before. But she was not sure that being soothing was preferable to being the sort of woman who drove men wild with uncontrollable desire.

She sneaked a sideways look at him while he ate. His hair was too long and was decidedly untidy. Goodness knows what he had done with the comb. There was the night’s growth of stubble shadowing his chin and his eyes, despite his protestations of a good sleep, seemed heavy and brooding. Good cheekbones, she decided, and a very straight nose.