palms on the table and stood. He’d a stiff neck from sitting too long. He frowned at the clock on the mantel. He’d lost track of time again, not that taxonomy was so interesting, but classification required concentration.
He rapped the door with his knuckles. “Pru?”
“Go away, please.” Her voice was muffled and thick.
He let himself in. Still in her evening dress, she was stretched across her bed, face down, arms flung overhead, sniffling into her pillow. A scrap of rosy silk was clutched in her hand. “What’s the matter, darling?” He sat on the edge of the bed.
She started and wiped at her face. “Can’t a girl have a weep in private?”
“Not on her wedding night.” That was evidently the wrong thing to say. She heaved a great sob and tried to move away but he pulled her into his arms. “Please tell me what is wrong. I thought we had a lovely day. Is being married to me so horrible? Please don’t cry. Please, please don’t cry.” He stroked her hair. “My poor Pru.”
She wound her arms around his neck. “Don’t you like me even a little bit?” She sniffled wetly against his collar. “I thought perhaps you liked me.”
“Like you? Why would you ask such a thing?” He meant to comfort her at first, fluttering soft kisses across her eyelids and trailing them down her forehead. “I like you very much. More so than I expected.” His voice was hoarse.
She turned her mouth to his. He explored her lips tentatively at first. She sighed against his mouth and his control slipped. His arms held her tighter — or was she pressing herself against him?
Her hands tangled in his hair. “I thought…our wedding night…you didn’t even want to touch me.” She hiccupped and pulled back. “I know this isn’t a proper marriage but I don’t want to spend my life so chastely.”
It was his turn to stammer. “B-but I was being noble.”
“Oh please don’t be noble!”
“I’m sorry,” he said against her mouth. “I promised myself I would not molest you, that we should spend time getting to know one another and…”
“Do shut up,” Pru said and kissed him hard.
She was his wife, he reminded himself, and she was in his arms and so willing . He turned to press her back into the bed and she fell back, pulling him with her eagerly.
Very, very willing !
Pru felt exactly right to be drawn against his chest that way, drowsy and replete. His hand stroked her hair idly.
“I had no idea it could be like that,” Pru said.
“Neither did I.”
She rose on an elbow to look at him. “Of course you did. You’re the one with all the experience.”
“What do you think I am? Not all that much experience. I mean that I’m not really such a…It isn’t as if I make a habit… that I go around…”
“No?” She raised an eyebrow. “You are blushing quite a bit for a man I met in a brothel.”
“Yes, well, it isn’t as if I never…” Charles abruptly pulled her into his arms. “I meant that this was different. Better.” He kissed her with such ferocity that although moments before she was drifting asleep, now she was fully awake with her blood pounding through her veins.
Much, much later, they finally slept.
In the early part of the morning, she was dimly aware of Charles slipping from the bed. He stopped long enough to drop a kiss on her shoulder and tuck the covers back around her. She wanted to protest the removal of his solid warmth, but speaking was far too much effort and she once again succumbed to the lure of sleep.
Chapter Nine
C HARLES W AS A LREADY A T breakfast when she entered the morning room. She bent to brush a kiss against his cheek. He gave her a taut smile.
Instantly on edge, she sat across from him while Mrs. Forbes bustled in with a fresh pot of tea. He said nothing as she buttered her scone, staring instead at his copy of the Times.
She set her knife down in exasperation. “What have I done?”
“I’m sorry?” He looked up from the paper. “Nothing,
He rapped the door with his knuckles. “Pru?”
“Go away, please.” Her voice was muffled and thick.
He let himself in. Still in her evening dress, she was stretched across her bed, face down, arms flung overhead, sniffling into her pillow. A scrap of rosy silk was clutched in her hand. “What’s the matter, darling?” He sat on the edge of the bed.
She started and wiped at her face. “Can’t a girl have a weep in private?”
“Not on her wedding night.” That was evidently the wrong thing to say. She heaved a great sob and tried to move away but he pulled her into his arms. “Please tell me what is wrong. I thought we had a lovely day. Is being married to me so horrible? Please don’t cry. Please, please don’t cry.” He stroked her hair. “My poor Pru.”
She wound her arms around his neck. “Don’t you like me even a little bit?” She sniffled wetly against his collar. “I thought perhaps you liked me.”
“Like you? Why would you ask such a thing?” He meant to comfort her at first, fluttering soft kisses across her eyelids and trailing them down her forehead. “I like you very much. More so than I expected.” His voice was hoarse.
She turned her mouth to his. He explored her lips tentatively at first. She sighed against his mouth and his control slipped. His arms held her tighter — or was she pressing herself against him?
Her hands tangled in his hair. “I thought…our wedding night…you didn’t even want to touch me.” She hiccupped and pulled back. “I know this isn’t a proper marriage but I don’t want to spend my life so chastely.”
It was his turn to stammer. “B-but I was being noble.”
“Oh please don’t be noble!”
“I’m sorry,” he said against her mouth. “I promised myself I would not molest you, that we should spend time getting to know one another and…”
“Do shut up,” Pru said and kissed him hard.
She was his wife, he reminded himself, and she was in his arms and so willing . He turned to press her back into the bed and she fell back, pulling him with her eagerly.
Very, very willing !
Pru felt exactly right to be drawn against his chest that way, drowsy and replete. His hand stroked her hair idly.
“I had no idea it could be like that,” Pru said.
“Neither did I.”
She rose on an elbow to look at him. “Of course you did. You’re the one with all the experience.”
“What do you think I am? Not all that much experience. I mean that I’m not really such a…It isn’t as if I make a habit… that I go around…”
“No?” She raised an eyebrow. “You are blushing quite a bit for a man I met in a brothel.”
“Yes, well, it isn’t as if I never…” Charles abruptly pulled her into his arms. “I meant that this was different. Better.” He kissed her with such ferocity that although moments before she was drifting asleep, now she was fully awake with her blood pounding through her veins.
Much, much later, they finally slept.
In the early part of the morning, she was dimly aware of Charles slipping from the bed. He stopped long enough to drop a kiss on her shoulder and tuck the covers back around her. She wanted to protest the removal of his solid warmth, but speaking was far too much effort and she once again succumbed to the lure of sleep.
Chapter Nine
C HARLES W AS A LREADY A T breakfast when she entered the morning room. She bent to brush a kiss against his cheek. He gave her a taut smile.
Instantly on edge, she sat across from him while Mrs. Forbes bustled in with a fresh pot of tea. He said nothing as she buttered her scone, staring instead at his copy of the Times.
She set her knife down in exasperation. “What have I done?”
“I’m sorry?” He looked up from the paper. “Nothing,
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