The Earl's Wallflower Bride (18 page)

Each thrust also brought him closer and
closer to the inevitable moment when he’d release his seed. He was
enjoying this so much he didn’t ever want it to end. He struggled
to distract himself by thinking of other things, but that only made
him aware that she was working with him, lifting her hips to meet
each thrust.

When he opened his eyes, he noticed hers were
closed. His gaze went lower, and he noticed her other breast had
been freed from the dress, which gave him the most lovely view
imaginable. Two breasts bouncing in unison with their movements.
And that image was his undoing. Gasping, he grew taut and released
his seed. He let out another groan as waves of pleasure coursed
through him.

He had figured the climax would feel good.
He’d taken care of his needs in the past enough to know this, but
this actually felt much more intense than any of those times had.
With a moan, he willed the feeling to last as long as it could. But
much too soon, the climax receded, and he was brought back to
earth.

Weak, he collapsed in her arms, his heart
still racing and his breathing ragged. When his head cleared, he
lifted himself up on his elbows and kissed her. He didn’t know how
it was possible, but he felt closer to her, and he hoped she felt
the same. He’d like to think this was the point where things would
change for the better, that she might understand he wasn’t going to
be the same person who had invited her to his dinner party.

He didn’t dare ask her if she felt close to
him after this act. What if she said no? What if she said this was
something she was expected to do, so she did it? He knew the rules
of the Ton. Wives were for heirs. Mistresses were for pleasure.

He wanted to tell her that he didn’t want
lovemaking to be something done out of duty. He wanted it to be
something they could both enjoy, that he’d only take his pleasure
with her. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It was easier,
instead, to kiss her and hold her for the next few minutes.

Afterwards, he gathered enough courage to
whisper, “May I join you in bed tonight?”

A pretty blush graced her face as she nodded.
“Yes, you may.”

Good. At least there was that. She was
willing to do this with him again, and in the same evening. He got
off of her and pulled up his undergarments and trousers. He’d just
finished buttoning his trousers when she was standing by the couch,
looking presentable. Minus her unkempt hair, no one would suspect
what they’d been doing in here. Even he didn’t believe it. He had
thought lovemaking should only be saved for the bedchamber.

“I didn’t bring you to the den, thinking
we’d…” He cleared his throat. “Thankfully, I closed the door.”

She offered him a shy smile. “I didn’t mind.
The couch is a comfortable one, and, as you said, the door was
closed. I think we did a good job of being discreet.”

He took her hand and kissed it. Then, without
another word, he led her to her bed.

Chapter Fifteen

W
hen Warren woke up the next morning, he had his arm around
Iris’ waist, and she had her back pressing up against his chest. He
let out a contented sigh and remained still for the next few
minutes, savoring the bliss they’d shared last night. Yes, they
still had much to learn about each other, but he felt they were
going to be all right despite their shaky beginning.

With a smile, he rose up on his arm and
kissed her cheek. She remained fast asleep. The poor thing was
exhausted. In his enthusiasm over making love to her, he’d kept her
up through most of the night.

He, however, was far too excited to sleep.
Noting a hint of daylight coming in through a sliver in the
curtains, he released Iris and scooted over to the edge of the bed.
He picked up the pocket watch he’d set on the table the night
before and noted it was six in the morning.

That wasn’t surprising. He often got up at
this time, unlike most gentlemen who slept in until almost noon.
But then, they were used to carousing around London all through the
night. For the life of him, he would never understand the appeal.
The mind was at its best first thing in the morning.

He glanced over at Iris, who was still
asleep. What time was she used to getting up? He suspected that she
didn’t sleep late through the morning, but she probably didn’t make
it a habit of getting up this early, either. And who knew if, being
a lady, she could handle all the activity they’d done? Ladies, he’d
heard, had delicate constitutions and had to be treated with
care.

Which brought him to a pressing topic. How
could he bring her pleasure in bed? Had she enjoyed anything they’d
done last night? Maybe, in his excitement, he’d imagined that she
gotten pleasure from it. He’d been so fascinated in his exploration
of her, he hadn’t been able to focus on much else.

As loathe as he was to admit it, he needed
Lord Edon’s book. It was either that or ask her if she liked what
they’d done, but he’d rather die than let her know how inept he was
at this sort of thing. It was far easier to engage in financial and
political talk. At least those were topics he was confident
about.

Well, that settled it. He’d go to White’s and
pick up a copy of the book. Maybe if he went early, no one would be
there. Ever since the book got voted in, Lord Edon had left a stack
of them in the room where anyone could take a copy. Warren couldn’t
be sure, but he thought Lord Edon was more than happy to do that
instead of having gentlemen ask him for one.

Careful not to disturb Iris, Warren slipped
out of bed and gathered his things. Then he went to his bedchamber
through the door connecting their rooms. He softly closed the door
so he wouldn’t wake her.

After that, it was a matter of taking a bath
and getting dressed. Usually, his valet would give him a shave, but
on this particular morning, he did it himself. By the time he was
presentable, it was a little after seven.

Good. He still had plenty of time to get to
White’s before it got crowded.

He went to the door connecting his room with
Iris’ and slowly opened it. She was still asleep. He took a moment
to study her. Why didn’t he notice she was an attractive lady when
they’d met? It might not have been the striking beauty some ladies
had, but it was beauty nonetheless. It was just quieter,
subtler.

Maybe he’d been so focused on impressing her
father he hadn’t noticed. He had been hoping to marry her for the
sake of establishing a lifelong relationship with her father. The
gentleman had influence in London, and many wanted to benefit from
his wisdom.

But who would have guessed Iris could match
her father in wisdom and intellect? Apparently, none of the
bachelors had been any smarter than him, for there hadn’t been a
line of them vying for her hand. It was just as well. Warren didn’t
care for that kind of competition.

Warren went to his desk and pulled out a
piece of parchment. After dipping his quill in the ink, he wrote
Iris a note to let her know he had to run an errand but would be
back soon. He almost added that the errand involved a book, but
then she might ask what kind of book. And that would create a lot
more questions he’d rather not answer.

So he left it as simple as possible and
placed it on the vanity in her room. Then he went to get something
to eat before heading out to White’s.

***

Iris stirred as she slowly came out of the
world of dreams. The dreams had been so pleasant she lingered as
long as she could. Warren was with her in all of them, and she felt
enveloped in his love. There was no wondering what he thought of
her. She’d been sure of his feelings.

But the dreams dissipated, giving way to the
reality of what was really happening around her. With a sigh, she
rolled onto her back. Immediately, she noted that Warren was gone.
She sat up in bed, holding the blanket to her chest and saw that
his clothes and the pocket watch were gone, too.

She shouldn’t be disappointed. She knew he
didn’t love her. He probably wouldn’t ever love her. She questioned
the wisdom in making it so easy for him to come to her bed. Well,
she hadn’t even made him wait until he came to her bed. She’d
willingly given herself to him in his den! What kind of husband
respected a wife who practically threw herself at him?

She thought she’d built up some type of
resistance to him. It’d taken great effort to pretend she didn’t
care if he was with her before they married, and silly as it was,
she thought she’d been able to erect a wall around her heart. But
after he’d said a few sweet words to her and given her some
attention, that stupid wall had come crumbling down. She had no
idea her heart was such a fragile thing.

What a fool she was. When he had asked her to
his dinner party, she’d said yes. Never mind he’d spent most of the
afternoon talking with her father and had only stopped long enough
to offer her a greeting. At the time she’d thought he had invited
her to one of his dinner parties because he wished to get to know
her better.

When she’d gone to the dinner, he spent all
evening ignoring her, something Regan had been kind enough to point
out. Even then, she’d said yes when he asked her to another one.
She’d wanted to be with him so badly she was willing to give him
another chance.

It was nothing but blind hope that kept
making her do everything she could to please him. When would she
finally learn he didn’t love her? He never had, and he never
would.

She glanced over at the empty spot next to
her. Now that he’d made the attempt at getting an heir, her use was
worn out, at least until he needed to try again. She got out of the
bed, willing the tears back. She hated crying. It was a sign of
weakness. But no matter how hard she tried, a few tears escaped and
slid down her cheeks.

She had to get out of here.
She needed time to regroup. She went to her wardrobe and selected
the clothes she wanted to wear for the morning. Then she hurried to
the washbasin and cleaned up, spending considerable time patting
her eyes and cheeks so no one would suspect she’d been crying.
Worse than crying was for people to
know
she’d been doing it.

After she was able to get a hold of her
emotions, she dressed. Usually, her lady’s maid would do it, but
she didn’t want to see anyone at the moment. All she wanted to do
was get out of this townhouse.

She ran her fingers through her hair and then
pulled it back into a bun, a task she managed without any pins.
Then she grabbed a hat from the top shelf in the wardrobe and put
it on her head. Her mother would be appalled if she knew Iris was
going to leave the room without checking her reflection in the
mirror above the vanity, but that was exactly what Iris did. Why
should she care about the way she looked? She had no one to
impress.

She left the room and hurried down the
stairs, hoping she might get to the door before any of the servants
did, but the butler happened to come into the entryway at the very
moment her hand was on the doorknob.

“My lady,” he called out, rushing to her,
“let me get the door for you.”

She almost told him she could do it herself,
but she decided it’d be easier if she let him do as he wished.

As he opened the door, he asked, “Lord
Steinbeck went to White’s. He said he should be back within the
hour. Would you like to leave him a message?”

“No,” she forced out then passed through the
doorway and quickly made her way down the steps.

If she said any more than that, she might
very well burst into a new wave of tears. White’s? The first thing
on Warren’s mind had been to leave this townhouse and go to a
gentleman’s club?

Don’t think about it. You’ll only open
yourself up to new wounds if you think about it.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, her steps
quickened as she made her way down the sidewalk. She wasn’t sure
where she was going. All she knew was that she needed to get away
from anything that reminded her of her husband. And the sooner she
did that, the better.

A carriage pulled up next to her and someone
called out, “Lady Steinbeck, may I have a word with you?”

Her steps came to a halt as she looked over
at the unfamiliar carriage. It had the same crest Warren had on his
carriage, but it didn’t belong to him. Her gaze went to the door as
it opened. A gentleman peered out at her, and it took her a moment
to realize it was Warren’s half-brother.

“I can take you wherever you need to go,”
Byron added. “I didn’t get a chance to properly introduce
myself.”

She hesitated. If she recalled right, there
had been something about him that had given her an unsettling
feeling yesterday. “Oh, well…” She shifted from one foot to the
other. “I’m in a hurry. A friend needs to see me,” she finally
lied, deciding it’d be best if she listened to that small voice
warning her not to go with him.