primal urges; fury at her father and aunt for teaching her to be this docile creature who let anyone and everyone trample all over her; and, most of all, fury at himself for not treating her any better.
Time evaporated as the deafening silence engulfed them.
It wasn't until the moon dropped behind the leafy treetops outside Regina's window, cloaking them in utter darkness, that Edward dared touch her again. But this time instead of initiating love making, he used his hand on the small of her back to steer her toward the bed.
Then, just as he'd done last night, he shed his dressing robe, climbed in bed beside her, and held her until they both drifted off to sleep.
~Chapter Eleven~
As much as she hated to admit it, Edward was right. Watson Townhouse was barren. Even her father's townhouse had more embellishment than this one. Not that dozens of portraits of Toby at various ages was something enjoyable to feast one's eyes upon, but at least it was something. Not only did Watson Townhouse have no ornamentation, it didn't even have adequate furniture. Why? Neither Edward nor his father had been Father's clients and his encouragement of her redecorating his house didn't seem false. So he couldn't be impoverished. Why then was his house so empty? Perhaps she'd ask him sometime, but not now. Not when he seemed so bent on pleasing her in order to soothe her pride.
She honestly didn't know which was worse, his lying by omission to protect her feelings or his overcompensation for his deed by trying to keep her pleased.
She shrugged out of her heavy nightgown then pulled a pair of stockings from the bureau and looked around her new bedchamber again. She didn't know about the rest of the house, but this room was certainly in need of some new decorations. Not that she knew what she'd do differently, mind you. She hadn't decorated a single thing before. Ever. Her father had instructed her mother how to decorate her family home, and she hadn't been allowed to change anything in her room at Sloan's.
A light scratching on the door pulled her from her thoughts.
“ No nightgown this morning?” Georgie asked, coming into her room.
Regina blushed fiercely. “It's not...” Why bother to explain? The admission that she'd once again been unable to perform her marital duties would be far more damning than the assumption that her husband had seen her nude.
Georgie smiled. “Never mind what I think, my lady.” She walked to the wardrobe, which had been filled with half of Regina's gowns while she'd be in the country. She pulled out a dark green morning gown. “This is beautiful. Would you like to wear it?”
“ Of course.” Not that it mattered what she wore anymore. Nobody would be around to see it. She chastised herself for her moment of self-pity then allowed Georgie to help her into her dress.
“ Beautiful, indeed,” she said. “Lord Watson left for Eton before sunup and isn't expected back until tonight, but Master John should be about.”
Regina nodded. Just as well. At least with him gone, he wouldn't feel compelled to spend time with her.
Georgie brushed and repinned her hair then excused herself so Regina could go take breakfast.
She ate with deliberate slowness. Having no real friends to speak of who lived close and never having been allowed to pursue interests not considered necessary to her role as a female and approved by her father, she had no idea what to do with her day.
Fortunately, her state of tedium came to a close when a missive was delivered for her shortly after luncheon.
Unfortunately, the missive was from her father. Even worse, he'd be arriving at her house at exactly half past four this afternoon to discuss a matter of great import with her.
“ Lady Watson,” her father greeted, as Calvert led him into the drawing room.
“ Father.”
He nodded then took a seat in the chair opposite where she sat on the settee. “I trust you enjoyed your stay in the country with your
Time evaporated as the deafening silence engulfed them.
It wasn't until the moon dropped behind the leafy treetops outside Regina's window, cloaking them in utter darkness, that Edward dared touch her again. But this time instead of initiating love making, he used his hand on the small of her back to steer her toward the bed.
Then, just as he'd done last night, he shed his dressing robe, climbed in bed beside her, and held her until they both drifted off to sleep.
~Chapter Eleven~
As much as she hated to admit it, Edward was right. Watson Townhouse was barren. Even her father's townhouse had more embellishment than this one. Not that dozens of portraits of Toby at various ages was something enjoyable to feast one's eyes upon, but at least it was something. Not only did Watson Townhouse have no ornamentation, it didn't even have adequate furniture. Why? Neither Edward nor his father had been Father's clients and his encouragement of her redecorating his house didn't seem false. So he couldn't be impoverished. Why then was his house so empty? Perhaps she'd ask him sometime, but not now. Not when he seemed so bent on pleasing her in order to soothe her pride.
She honestly didn't know which was worse, his lying by omission to protect her feelings or his overcompensation for his deed by trying to keep her pleased.
She shrugged out of her heavy nightgown then pulled a pair of stockings from the bureau and looked around her new bedchamber again. She didn't know about the rest of the house, but this room was certainly in need of some new decorations. Not that she knew what she'd do differently, mind you. She hadn't decorated a single thing before. Ever. Her father had instructed her mother how to decorate her family home, and she hadn't been allowed to change anything in her room at Sloan's.
A light scratching on the door pulled her from her thoughts.
“ No nightgown this morning?” Georgie asked, coming into her room.
Regina blushed fiercely. “It's not...” Why bother to explain? The admission that she'd once again been unable to perform her marital duties would be far more damning than the assumption that her husband had seen her nude.
Georgie smiled. “Never mind what I think, my lady.” She walked to the wardrobe, which had been filled with half of Regina's gowns while she'd be in the country. She pulled out a dark green morning gown. “This is beautiful. Would you like to wear it?”
“ Of course.” Not that it mattered what she wore anymore. Nobody would be around to see it. She chastised herself for her moment of self-pity then allowed Georgie to help her into her dress.
“ Beautiful, indeed,” she said. “Lord Watson left for Eton before sunup and isn't expected back until tonight, but Master John should be about.”
Regina nodded. Just as well. At least with him gone, he wouldn't feel compelled to spend time with her.
Georgie brushed and repinned her hair then excused herself so Regina could go take breakfast.
She ate with deliberate slowness. Having no real friends to speak of who lived close and never having been allowed to pursue interests not considered necessary to her role as a female and approved by her father, she had no idea what to do with her day.
Fortunately, her state of tedium came to a close when a missive was delivered for her shortly after luncheon.
Unfortunately, the missive was from her father. Even worse, he'd be arriving at her house at exactly half past four this afternoon to discuss a matter of great import with her.
“ Lady Watson,” her father greeted, as Calvert led him into the drawing room.
“ Father.”
He nodded then took a seat in the chair opposite where she sat on the settee. “I trust you enjoyed your stay in the country with your
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