The Reluctant Marquess (9 page)

“Have you?”

“I dislike this conversation. Might we change it? I have an engagement this evening.”

“Where is this engagement?” Suspicious, Charity frowned, as hot jealousy coursed through her. Her desire to make peace with him evaporated.

He raised a brow. “Something I promised a friend. Not something I desire to do.”

“You treat your friends better than your wife, my lord.”

He sighed. “You are yet to learn the way we live here in London, Charity.”

“Perhaps I don’t wish to learn it,” she threw at him. “Particularly if it is careless, cruel and unkind!”

She bit her lip, she was failing in her effort to be seductive. Maybe it went against her nature.

The soup was brought in, and Robert’s expression silenced her.

Aware she was making things a good deal worse, she picked up her spoon. There would be time enough later and his mother’s words still rang in her ears. She disliked being manipulative, but if it might work to bring them together. She was willing to try it, although her confidence in achieving success had reached its lowest ebb.

Robert left the house with a shrug of frustration. Charity found so many of the conventions of the ton to be false and forced him to see it too. He tried to push the thought away. Lighting a cheroot, he forced his body to relax and settled back against the squabs in the carriage as it negotiated the London streets. It didn’t seem to work for he still felt tense when the carriage stopped.

He found Anastasia particularly annoying that evening. As usual, the music hall audience was rowdy, and the show lacked inspiration and talent.

“We have not made love since you married,” she fired at him when they returned to her apartment, and he again resisted her invitation into her bed. “I believe you are in love with your wife.”

“You think so?” His cool look was meant to silence her.

Anastasia wasn’t about to let the matter go. “You don’t even like me speaking her name. If you’re so fond of her, why are you here?”

“Why indeed?” Robert spluttered. “If a man has to answer to his mistress as he does his wife, their association should end.”

She poked him the chest. “I agree. Even though you are a remarkably good lover, I need to find myself a new patron.”

“No doubt you already have one picked out,” he said, opening the front door. He was surprised at how little he cared. He left her apartment and headed down the corridor toward the stairs.

“I have several,” she called after him and slammed the door.

Robert donned his hat and coat and entered the street, feeling as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. What a fool he’d been!

Women were such romantics. They thought love was at the root of everything. Might he be in love with Charity? He found more and more that he wanted to be with her. And he wanted to make love to her very badly. But dammit! It wasn’t unreasonable to want the beautiful woman living under his roof in his bed, was it? He defied even a monk to resist her charms. But it had to be on his terms. He and Charity had been fighting a war. The prize was his freedom. A man had to keep a cool head or he’d find himself turned into that obliging lap dog, with every shred of his masculinity gone. He hailed a hackney and went home to bed.

During the night, he woke to find a slender body had climbed into his bed. Turning, he caught the fragrant scent of damask roses. Charity.

Despite his surprise, he acted quickly, gathering her warm, soft curves against him before she changed her mind, and whispered in her ear, “You have forgiven me my abhorrent behavior, then.”

Her sweet breath touched his cheek. “If you’ve forgiven me for slapping you.”

“I deserved it,” he said diplomatically. “May I light a candle?”

She paused. “All right.”

When candlelight flickered in the room, he gasped. Charity lay on the bed in an almost transparent nightgown of black lace. It was something he would expect Anastasia to wear, not his shy, innocent little wife. She did look enchanting in it with her hair loose. Her sun-kissed curls flowed over her shoulders like Venus in Botticelli’s painting.

Venus had been naked, and he was rocked with a very strong desire to remove the garment, pretty as it was. “Where did you find that nightgown?”

“I saw it at my modiste’s the other day. She was making it for someone else. I persuaded her to sell it to me.”

“I’m very glad you did. I didn’t know you went out in the carriage. I hope you took your maid with you.”

She gave a quick shake of her head.

He tried to summon annoyance at her continued lack of propriety in the hope that he could hang on to some perspective, but failed, as his blood surged and his heart pounded. Right now, he didn’t give a damn. Rather than appearing apologetic, her green eyes defied him, while her white teeth nibbled her plump lower lip, inviting him to kiss her. He lost his breath as his mind wandered, and his cock stood at attention. “You are so lovely,” he said, his voice roughened by desire. His gaze wandered over her beautiful legs up to the thrust of her breasts against the whisper thin material. Her golden skin was like polished porcelain in the candlelight. The delicate bone structure of her bare shoulders made him feel protective and tender towards her.

“I feel beautiful when you look at me like that,” she said softly.

“You’re trembling.”

“A little.”

Charity released the breath she had been holding. She had been afraid he would turn her away. He gazed at her with such passion in his eyes, surely he wanted her?

Robert cupped her chin in his hand and gazed into her eyes. “I promise not to hurt you, Charity. If I have hurt you in any way in the past, I’m confoundedly sorry for it.”

“Oh, Robert!” Charity sighed, feeling the tension leave her limbs. Only a little apprehension for what lay ahead remained.

Robert bent to kiss her, tasting her full lips. How he had wanted to do this, and know she wouldn’t fly out of his arms at the slightest provocation. He drew away the lacy fabric of her nightgown and uncovered a breast, bending to kiss it. Her skin was soft and fragrant. She sucked in a ragged breath and clutched his shoulders. Aware she was nervous, he gently nudged a nipple, teasing it with his tongue. Her delighted gasp stirred a corresponding delight in him, but it was so much more than desire. His heart swelled with joy. It was an emotion like no other he’d ever experienced. It stunned him, enveloped him, and he almost pulled away in fear of it.

“Charity.” He groaned and ripped the fragile lace as he pulled it over her head. “I’ll buy you another,” he promised. “Just like it.

One for every night of the week.” He rained kisses over her soft throat. “I want you so much.”

“I want you too,” she whispered. Her breasts and lower stomach throbbed for his touch, and for something she didn’t quite understand.

He groaned again at his foolishness. “I have, you know, since I first saw you.”

“I think I loved you even then.”

He raised his head to look into her face. “And do you still love me now?”

She smiled shyly. “Yes, of course.”

“I’m a lucky, undeserving fellow.” He kissed her, a passionate kiss that left them both gasping. “The only thing I can say in my defense is I needed time to wrestle with a few demons.”

“I know.”

He hesitated. “You know?”

“Love is glorious, but when one gives up one’s very soul to it, it can also be frightening.”

Robert tenderly traced her lustrous lips and bent to kiss them again. “How did you come to be so wise?”

His gaze roamed over her body, from the jutting fullness of her pale breasts and perky nipples the color of strawberries, down over the curve of her slender waist to the downy hair at the base of her stomach and her rounded thighs. He longed to part them and discover the delectable beauty that awaited him there. It felt like he was drowning in lust. Must go easy and not hurt her, he cautioned himself. But he wanted her so much. He’d denied himself sex for so long his cock strained and his testicles throbbed painfully. His fingers traced over the delightfully rounded curves of her body, from her breasts to her silky-skinned derrière and the exquisitely soft skin of her inner thigh, his hand settling there. She gave a breathy moan as he stroked her plump, damp softness, and he watched with delight as her green eyes grew dazed and she made gasping little cries.

Her passionate response made his heart bang against his ribs.

“Do you want me to continue?” he asked hoarsely, almost afraid of the answer. It felt as if his whole life depended on it.

Charity jerked against him, gasping, “Yes. Yes.”

She lay back on the pillow, inviting him to touch her, to taste her. She deferred to him in this, and even though he suspected it might be one of the few things in which she did, it made him feel powerful. Her lips parted under his, and he explored the sweet cavern of her mouth, his tongue touching hers, sending a wave of desire flooding through him.

He sat up and drew off his nightshirt. The candlelight played on his skin turning it golden. “Your body is beautiful, Robert,” Charity whispered.

He settled between her legs, and she hugged him to her, pulling him close against her soft curves, her firm breasts and taut nipples rubbing against his chest. The blood surged through his body as she nibbled his ear and murmured encouragement.

She might be an innocent, but you could never accuse Charity of being straight-laced or priggish, as he feared a virgin might be.

She had grown in confidence and become an intoxicating mix of nymph and siren. What joy lay in the years ahead.

Her hands danced along his back and she murmured words of love. Desire roared in his ears as her words became incoherent. Her body was hot and slick with desire, and he thought he might explode with the exquisite pleasure of it. He entered her, met with resistance and pushed, breaking though.

She cried out, and he faltered. “Have I hurt you? Shall I go on?”

“Don’t stop, please.” Her voice shook.

He moved slowly, feeling her body sheath him, drawing him into her hot center. Stroking rhythmically, he’d held himself in check too long and knew he could not last long. “Next time,” he promised.

He cried her name as he came.

Charity stretched out her limbs feeing heavy and sated.

They were now truly man and wife in the eyes of God as well as the church. It had been wonderful, all of it, even the pain and discomfort which Robert promised would not return. She drew his head down to her breast and held him tenderly and her heart swelled with love. Surely now, he was entirely hers. Yet, some uneasiness remained. Would she be enough for him? Would he be faithful and more importantly did he love her? Even in the throws of passion he had not said those words.

Robert slept in her arms. Replete, she closed her eyes.

Charity stirred as the first fragile rays of dawn crept through the crack in the curtains. Robert slept with his face in the pillow, his naked body stretched out across the bed.

“Robert? It’s almost morning. I must return to my chamber.”

Charity ran her hand over his muscled back and arms, marveling at his masculine strength. She boldly stroked his smooth rounded backside, so unlike a woman’s. Her body felt pleasantly sore, and she blushed at the memories of their night together.

Robert yawned. He raked his fingers through his hair, ruffling it and making her fingers twitch to smooth it. “We’re married, Charity,” he said with a grin. “It’s perfectly all right to stay here.”

The servants would suffer no illusions, wherever she woke up that morning. He lay smiling at her like big satisfied cat. “And I’m not finished with you.” He gathered her close for a long passionate kiss. “I will never be,” he said huskily.

Charity pushed slightly away from him, searching his eyes.

“There’s something I have to tell you.” Her stomach tightened with anxiety, even though Robert’s hands produced delightful sensations everywhere he touched. A pleasant ache spread through her nether regions, and the memory of last night’s tender lovemaking threatened to distract her from her purpose.

There could be nothing standing between them. She must tell him. “What is it, my love?”

“Yesterday, I went to your parents’ house.”

“You did what?” Robert moved away from her and sat up.

“Why?” His brows snapped together, looking thunderous, and she quaked.

She took a deep anxious breath. “I saw your mother. And I met your half-sister and brother. I like them, Robert, very much.”

“You had no right to do such a thing.” The harsh condemnation in his voice made her shiver. She clasped the sheet to her chest defensively at his cold impersonal gaze.

“I wanted to learn what had hurt you so much.”

“And did my mother oblige? I suppose you know the whole sorry tale.” He rolled off the bed and stalked over to his dressing gown, pulling it on. “Will you leave things alone now?”

“She asked me to visit her again. I promised I would.” Charity lay in the cooling bed, suffering a sense of abandonment. She clung to the hope she could bring him round to her way of thinking.

He paused from tying his robe and stared at her, his eyes dark with anger. Or was it hurt? “You promised?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know what to say. You don’t listen to my wishes at all. You went right ahead and did just what you wanted, with no thought that your actions might hurt me.”

Wrapping herself in a sheet to cover her nakedness, she put a foot to the floor. She hurried towards him, almost tripping. “But Robert, I wanted to mend things, not hurt you further, don’t you see?”

“No, I don’t see at all,” he said, his voice icy. “I see only that you wished things to be as you choose.”

“Do you realize that when your father died, he left your mother with very little money?” she flung at him. “She married to protect you from poverty.”

He paused at the door. “She didn’t tell me that, but it makes little difference now.”

She put a hand to her stomach. “What happens if we have a child?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your mother will be a grandparent. Don’t you want her to be a part of it? To have your children’s lives blessed with loving relations? I have none to offer them.”