“No,” she said with a satisfied sigh. Then she laughed low and deepened her voice. “You’ll be the lover I never knew I needed.”
Loversent a rush of blood toward his already plumped manhood. She turned in his arms. With a kiss and a shy smile, she initiated tender, sweet intimacies.
After, he lay quietly by her side, listening as she described a riding habit she was designing in her mind. He pictured something wine red, billowy, and with plenty of martial flair.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“I think you’d turn every head on Rotton Row.”
She frowned. “But what doyouthink?”
“I think you stunning inandout of your clothes.”
“Neville!”
Quizzically, he studied his wife. “I’ve answered your question, haven’t I?”
She shook her headno. “I want to know ifyou’dlike me to wear such a dress.”
“I want you to wear whatever you would like to wear.”
“I will, of course,” she said. But her lips turned down even further, suggesting this, too, had been the wrong answer.
He tried again. “Make sure the sleeves are fitted, add a touch of black to the collar and the waist for contrast, and you’ll have the most striking habit I’ve ever seen.”
A smile broke over her face, bright as sunshine. Then, he understood. The purple dress yesterday. The habit today. Both were an unspoken question wrapped in sartorial disguise—do you accept me as I am?
“That’swhat I wished to know,” she added, confirming his suspicions. “I don’t care a whit for anyone’s opinion but yours.”
She might have knocked him upside his head for the ringing in his ears.
“Good to know,” he managed.
She’d invited him to bed, and she’d initiated lovemaking. Now, she’d solicited his opinion.
Progress.
Once they were fully out of danger, he’d devote himself to nurturing her nascent trust. And then, maybe… He gazed down, feeling an almost tangible love. Love like a premonition of the thousands of tender moments yet to blossom between them.
But was wanting to express that kind of love asking too much, too soon?
Across the room, the wall clock chimed the hour, an external demand that he attend his duty.
“Loath as I am to leave you, I told my mother I would meet her back at the townhouse after she called on Lady Eltenham.”
She scowled. “Again, Willard intrudes.”
“Millie.” He cupped her cheek. “One way or another, I will see Willard punished for what he’s done.”
“Of course.” She blinked. “Wewill save John. Punish Willard. I will have a sparkling reputation as we settle down to domestic bliss at…” A crease appeared between her brows. “What was the name of your estate?”
“Fountainwood.”
“Ah, yes. Fountainwood.” She glanced up and over his shoulder, as if trying to picture the place in her mind. “Interesting name.”
“The manor sits like a fountain at the top of a hill surrounded by woodland.”
“Iloveliteral house names,” she said with a touch too much enthusiasm. “Now, where was I? Ah, yes. Domestic bliss…”