a foot?”
She looked down. Drat! Up to now, she had sat with both legs tucked primly beneath her billowing riding skirt. Distracted by their fascinating conversation, she had allowed her booted right foot, along with part of an ankle, to poke out. Quickly she drew it beneath her. “It was all your talk about floods that made me careless.”
“Lord help us.” He cast a disgusted look at the sky. “Do you remember what I told you last time we were here?”
Every word. “I cannot recall.”
“If memory serves, I massaged your very lovely left foot. I said next time I would do the same for the right.”
“So you did. I just remembered.”
“Of course, you just remembered .” His gaze raked boldly over her, finally dropping to the hem of her skirt. “Stick that right foot out. If there’s anything I can’t stand it’s a namby-pamby woman who is stuck on her own false modesty. There’s nothing sacred about feet, no matter what Mama taught you.”
Without giving the matter another thought, she held her right foot out. What harm would it do? He spoke the truth. Besides all that, she wanted to.
He leaned across the blanket and lifted her foot, encased in its half boot. “Let’s get this off.” Slowly, very slowly, he gripped her ankle with one hand and slid her boot off with the other. He cupped her foot in his hands, one underneath, the other resting lightly on the top. “White silk stockings this time,” he murmured, as if to himself, and began rubbing her foot gently with his upper hand. “Relax. Even a countess deserves a foot rub now and then.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Have you ever had one? From the earl perhaps?”
“Surely you jest.” She giggled.
“I thought not.” For a time, he bent to his task, concentrating on rubbing her foot, the touch of his fingers sending a warming tingle through her. “You did not like being married to the earl.”
“It was horrible. I hated it. I shall never have another husband.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to do that , ever again.”
He pondered a moment. “When you say that , I take it you mean the sexual act that takes place between a man and a woman?”
“Well, yes.” She felt a rush of blood to her face.
He looked up. “You’re blushing. That’s what this stupid society does to you women. Makes a perfectly normal activity into something shameful, unmentionable.” He stopped rubbing her foot and looked her square in the eye. “Sex can be a beautiful thing, you know.”
Sex . He had actually said that forbidden word aloud! But somehow she no longer felt uncomfortable. Perhaps because he spoke so honestly, his remark seemed commonplace, as if he were talking about the weather, not intending to shock her at all. “I suppose it can be a beautiful thing, but not in this case.” She was proud she managed to sound nonchalant. “I want nothing to do with it, ever again. Instead, I plan to devote myself to riding Beauty, decorating my dower house and planting lovely flowers in my garden ... that sort of thing. I shall be quite content, thank you, without a man in my life.”
“What a lofty plan. Quite admirable, but for a woman as attractive as you, it won’t work.”
“Why not?”
“The men won’t leave you alone. Not with that voluptuous figure and that come-hither look, which is there whether you want it to be or not. Then there’s that marvelous hair and the way your whole face lights up when you laugh.” He sat back, his gaze sweeping over her. “You’re quite fetching, you know.”
“No, I don’t know.”
“Your naivety is part of your charm.”
“I am not naïve. I cannot imagine why you would think so.”
He laughed softly. “I’ll tell you something you don’t know. The reason you don’t know is no one will tell you, fearing such an unseemly disclosure will shock your so-called delicate sensibilities.”
“Really? What?” So intriguing. She could hardly wait to hear.
“Have you ever heard of Spanish
She looked down. Drat! Up to now, she had sat with both legs tucked primly beneath her billowing riding skirt. Distracted by their fascinating conversation, she had allowed her booted right foot, along with part of an ankle, to poke out. Quickly she drew it beneath her. “It was all your talk about floods that made me careless.”
“Lord help us.” He cast a disgusted look at the sky. “Do you remember what I told you last time we were here?”
Every word. “I cannot recall.”
“If memory serves, I massaged your very lovely left foot. I said next time I would do the same for the right.”
“So you did. I just remembered.”
“Of course, you just remembered .” His gaze raked boldly over her, finally dropping to the hem of her skirt. “Stick that right foot out. If there’s anything I can’t stand it’s a namby-pamby woman who is stuck on her own false modesty. There’s nothing sacred about feet, no matter what Mama taught you.”
Without giving the matter another thought, she held her right foot out. What harm would it do? He spoke the truth. Besides all that, she wanted to.
He leaned across the blanket and lifted her foot, encased in its half boot. “Let’s get this off.” Slowly, very slowly, he gripped her ankle with one hand and slid her boot off with the other. He cupped her foot in his hands, one underneath, the other resting lightly on the top. “White silk stockings this time,” he murmured, as if to himself, and began rubbing her foot gently with his upper hand. “Relax. Even a countess deserves a foot rub now and then.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Have you ever had one? From the earl perhaps?”
“Surely you jest.” She giggled.
“I thought not.” For a time, he bent to his task, concentrating on rubbing her foot, the touch of his fingers sending a warming tingle through her. “You did not like being married to the earl.”
“It was horrible. I hated it. I shall never have another husband.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to do that , ever again.”
He pondered a moment. “When you say that , I take it you mean the sexual act that takes place between a man and a woman?”
“Well, yes.” She felt a rush of blood to her face.
He looked up. “You’re blushing. That’s what this stupid society does to you women. Makes a perfectly normal activity into something shameful, unmentionable.” He stopped rubbing her foot and looked her square in the eye. “Sex can be a beautiful thing, you know.”
Sex . He had actually said that forbidden word aloud! But somehow she no longer felt uncomfortable. Perhaps because he spoke so honestly, his remark seemed commonplace, as if he were talking about the weather, not intending to shock her at all. “I suppose it can be a beautiful thing, but not in this case.” She was proud she managed to sound nonchalant. “I want nothing to do with it, ever again. Instead, I plan to devote myself to riding Beauty, decorating my dower house and planting lovely flowers in my garden ... that sort of thing. I shall be quite content, thank you, without a man in my life.”
“What a lofty plan. Quite admirable, but for a woman as attractive as you, it won’t work.”
“Why not?”
“The men won’t leave you alone. Not with that voluptuous figure and that come-hither look, which is there whether you want it to be or not. Then there’s that marvelous hair and the way your whole face lights up when you laugh.” He sat back, his gaze sweeping over her. “You’re quite fetching, you know.”
“No, I don’t know.”
“Your naivety is part of your charm.”
“I am not naïve. I cannot imagine why you would think so.”
He laughed softly. “I’ll tell you something you don’t know. The reason you don’t know is no one will tell you, fearing such an unseemly disclosure will shock your so-called delicate sensibilities.”
“Really? What?” So intriguing. She could hardly wait to hear.
“Have you ever heard of Spanish
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