future.”
“Nick?” Her voice had turned coquettish.
“Yes.”
“Do married people only…you know…at night?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because when we were out in the woods yesterday, it was daytime.”
“And?”
“Well I know we did not do the act but had we been married might we have?”
“Yes, we might have.”
“So it can be done during the day.”
“Yes.”
“Could it be done now?”
“If we were married, yes it could.”
She nodded. He frowned. Where was she going with this?
“And if we were married, would you want to? Now?”
Was it reassurance? And if so, reassurance of what? Reassurance that he wanted her or reassurance that he would not be pouncing on her at every opportunity?
He strode over and closed the drawing room doors. If anyone walked in, they would find them talking…or at worst kissing. Nothing more. He was not going to debauch her on the drawing room chaise, much though he wanted to. He moved back and sat down beside her on the chaise.
“Men have needs and ladies have needs too, but men seem to have more frequent needs,” he started. “Men can be aroused throughout the day even sometimes when they are not thinking about ladies with whom they want to couple. Sometimes we wake up aroused without dreaming of anything we desire. So yes, at this time of day we may want to couple and we may choose to. You may want to bed me or vice versa at any time of the day or night. Sometimes propriety will mean it cannot happen, sometimes one or other of us will not want to because we are tired or ill. But know this—you can always refuse and I will not complain and whether I am bedding you or not I find you beautiful and charming and enticing.”
“Nick, you do not have to say such things. I know the truth.”
He gritted his teeth and smoothed the back of his fingers down the cheek with her birthmark.
“Oh no, Gabby, you do not know the truth. You don’t know that when I am not with you I have conversations in my head with you where I try to make you laugh just so I can see you smile. Your eyes shine and you light up the room when you laugh. You make my heart leap out my chest when I see you. When we are in a room, I want to be near enough to smell the lavender soap that you use or to feel the warmth of your body or the brush of the hem of your skirts against my ankle. But no other woman would do, Gabriella. Only you. And I wish I could take back what I said all those years ago. I’m sorry for hurting you and for the pain I caused our families. I do hope that one day you can forgive me.”
Gabriella smiled.
“I already forgave you, Nick, but you need to forgive yourself. What you did today has more than made up for the strawberry jam remark. It is time to move on.”
Nick felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He gathered her in his arms and sank back against the armrest of the chaise, enjoying the feel of her head against his chest. They remained there for a long time, just listening to the other breathe, happy to be in one another’s company.
Yes, he wanted to drag her up his body and impale her on his hard flesh but he was just as content to lie here and enjoy her silent company.
Besides. There was only twenty-four hours left.
Chapter Eleven
Nick looked over the drawing room and caught the brown gaze of his wife, who bit her lip shyly and sent a spear of need straight to his groin. She looked stunning in a white satin gown with a silver overdress embroidered with glistening rosebuds. Her hair had been curled up off her face in an elaborate coif and hot house flowers had been laced strategically between the locks. He noticed someone had powdered her cheek to mask the birthmark that still seemed to cause her so much distress. He grimaced internally. She had no need to hide it, but he understood why she did it nonetheless.
She was talking to her sister-in-law and pointing out the window where another heavy fall of snow was currently in
“Nick?” Her voice had turned coquettish.
“Yes.”
“Do married people only…you know…at night?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because when we were out in the woods yesterday, it was daytime.”
“And?”
“Well I know we did not do the act but had we been married might we have?”
“Yes, we might have.”
“So it can be done during the day.”
“Yes.”
“Could it be done now?”
“If we were married, yes it could.”
She nodded. He frowned. Where was she going with this?
“And if we were married, would you want to? Now?”
Was it reassurance? And if so, reassurance of what? Reassurance that he wanted her or reassurance that he would not be pouncing on her at every opportunity?
He strode over and closed the drawing room doors. If anyone walked in, they would find them talking…or at worst kissing. Nothing more. He was not going to debauch her on the drawing room chaise, much though he wanted to. He moved back and sat down beside her on the chaise.
“Men have needs and ladies have needs too, but men seem to have more frequent needs,” he started. “Men can be aroused throughout the day even sometimes when they are not thinking about ladies with whom they want to couple. Sometimes we wake up aroused without dreaming of anything we desire. So yes, at this time of day we may want to couple and we may choose to. You may want to bed me or vice versa at any time of the day or night. Sometimes propriety will mean it cannot happen, sometimes one or other of us will not want to because we are tired or ill. But know this—you can always refuse and I will not complain and whether I am bedding you or not I find you beautiful and charming and enticing.”
“Nick, you do not have to say such things. I know the truth.”
He gritted his teeth and smoothed the back of his fingers down the cheek with her birthmark.
“Oh no, Gabby, you do not know the truth. You don’t know that when I am not with you I have conversations in my head with you where I try to make you laugh just so I can see you smile. Your eyes shine and you light up the room when you laugh. You make my heart leap out my chest when I see you. When we are in a room, I want to be near enough to smell the lavender soap that you use or to feel the warmth of your body or the brush of the hem of your skirts against my ankle. But no other woman would do, Gabriella. Only you. And I wish I could take back what I said all those years ago. I’m sorry for hurting you and for the pain I caused our families. I do hope that one day you can forgive me.”
Gabriella smiled.
“I already forgave you, Nick, but you need to forgive yourself. What you did today has more than made up for the strawberry jam remark. It is time to move on.”
Nick felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He gathered her in his arms and sank back against the armrest of the chaise, enjoying the feel of her head against his chest. They remained there for a long time, just listening to the other breathe, happy to be in one another’s company.
Yes, he wanted to drag her up his body and impale her on his hard flesh but he was just as content to lie here and enjoy her silent company.
Besides. There was only twenty-four hours left.
Chapter Eleven
Nick looked over the drawing room and caught the brown gaze of his wife, who bit her lip shyly and sent a spear of need straight to his groin. She looked stunning in a white satin gown with a silver overdress embroidered with glistening rosebuds. Her hair had been curled up off her face in an elaborate coif and hot house flowers had been laced strategically between the locks. He noticed someone had powdered her cheek to mask the birthmark that still seemed to cause her so much distress. He grimaced internally. She had no need to hide it, but he understood why she did it nonetheless.
She was talking to her sister-in-law and pointing out the window where another heavy fall of snow was currently in
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