He stood, marveling that he had emptied his love into her, but she had filled him with a euphoria he didn’t know how to contain.
She examined him, languid and appreciative. Then she slithered backward on the bed and beckoned him to join her. They wound together then, cocooned in the covers and tangled in each other.
“I have brandy as well as strawberry marmalade. Would you like a glass?”
He cupped her cheek and kissed her. “I would. You stay here and keep warm. I’ll get it.”
Naked, he padded to her sitting room where she’d had a tray set out for them. As he returned, one glass in hand, he gave it to her and reached down for his robe.
With an inquisitive tilt of her head, she watched him don his robe. She took his cue and sat upright, plumping the pillows behind her and placing the glass aside on the nearby table. Sitting back, she took the sheets with her to cover her bosom.
He took the large upholstered chair near her fire and considered how lovely she was in firelight or any light. “I want you to know what this means to me.” He opened his palm and indicated their enjoyment of each other on her bed.
“You’ve given yourself to me with such generosity that I am overwhelmed.”
She toyed with a smile. “You don’t want me to stop, do you?”
“Never.” Lord above, did he ever mean that!
“Well then. What’s on your mind, Theo?” She settled back into the covers like a child who eagerly awaited story-time.
“I’ve never known a woman who could do that.”
She blushed. “I didn’t plan that. What we’ve done here seemed so…natural. I didn’t think about it beyond…beyond wanting you.”
“And now I cannot think beyond that, either.”
“Well! I would say that’s a good thing, wouldn’t you?” She was so gay about it, she summoned the same kind of response in him.
He considered the fire for a moment. “You don’t wish to speak about your marriages. I will be frank and tell you I wish I knew more. But if you will not say, then I will accept it.”
She jutted out her chin, defiance in every line of her face. “Marriage is an option for a woman, true. For one of my rank, there are few others. A position, perhaps? Governess, lady’s companion. Or shop girl. The first man I married, I wed because I was told to do so. I was without a dowry sizable enough to attract…many.” She swallowed with difficulty. “Luckily, I enjoy people, books, the theater—and men. I have some good looks.”
“Penn, I did not lead you to this topic intending to make you angry.”
“I’m not angry with you. No. Not you. But the world! Society’s rules. When can a woman become capable of choosing her own life? What is all that education for if not to earn as well as any man? Why not, eh?”
He hated himself for broaching the subject.
She mellowed. “I married three men. Not because I loved them. But because they were…pleasant. When each one died, I was devastated by the loss. They were…my friends. I wanted them to live long and prosperous lives. But each one died. Astonishing, that. I wondered—still do—if I had loved them more, might they still be alive?”
He startled. She voiced his own thoughts about his own deceased spouses. Yet her self-ridicule was too harsh and he had to comfort her. “My sweet, you are not to blame for their passing.”
“No. No, of course not. That’s silliness, isn’t it?” She picked at the bed covers. “Their deaths were the normal cycle of life. We can explain their illnesses with that, can’t we? But then how do we explain what I did?”
“Penn—”
“I married each one in turn. I conformed to society’s rules. I took no position, I worked no shop. I took three men in matrimony. That makes me acceptable, wise and prudent, but it does not make me proud.”
“I am proud of you,” he declared. “You carried on. Did what you could.”
“And you?” Her tone was half question, half accusation. “Did you do what you could?”
“I was wrong not to marry you. I was wrong to accept what my father thought my affection was. I was wrong to take my first wife. She was not who she seemed. And the second—”
“Ohhhh, stop!” She cried, threw the covers back and jumped naked from the bed. Hands over her face, she ran toward the screen in the corner. Sobbing, she tried to burrow into the wall.
He was out of his chair, his hands around her shoulders, his lips buried in her fragrant hair. “Please don’t cry, my darling. Please don’t. All that is over now.”
