Her lingerie felt soft against her skin, trimmed in lace and threaded with ribbon. She liked pretty, dainty underthings, yet her silk wrapper was elegant, womanly, and wholly unsuitable for anybody’s eyes but her husband’s. It clasped beneath her breasts to hug her slight curves before falling from her hips in waves, pooling on the carpeted floor at her slippered feet. The heavy train dragged when she walked, making it impractical for…anything, really.
Louisa had blushed and balked at the dressmaker’s sketches. She’d pleaded with Mamma not to embarrass her by ordering such a costume, and she must have looked silly wearing it now, with her loose hair tumbling down her back like a schoolgirl. But she couldn’t resist idly stroking her fingertips around the low neckline as she thumbed through the book in her lap.
At last, the door to their suite creaked open, flooding the sitting room with light from the passageway beyond. Lord Granborough stepped over the threshold, and then closed and locked the door.
He appeared weary and stressed. Very nearly on the verge of tears. Once again, the careful shade had been lowered to reveal the vulnerable human within.
She sat up, tossing her novel aside. “What is wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
His Lordship startled, as if he hadn’t seen her sitting before him. He was so far gone into that rotten place deep inside himself that her presence in his stateroom—and in his life—hardly registered.
He blinked at her. “Were you waiting up for me, Louisa?”
She slid her slippered feet off the sofa, resting them on the floor. Should she go to him or leave him be? “We share a room, my lord. I could hardly go to bed without you.”
“My apologies for keeping you up, then.” He fumbled with his necktie and plucked uselessly at his shirt studs. He’d have his clothes in knots if he weren’t careful.
Louisa pushed off from the cushions and crossed the floor to reach for him. “Here—”
“Don’t fuss over me.” He let his arms fall to his side.
“Let me help you.” She loosened his tie and freed him from his collar. She collected each gold stud in the palm of her hand as she slowly undressed him. Though his body was firm beneath her fingers, she feared he would collapse if she weren’t careful.
He allowed her to slip the studs into his dinner jacket pocket, and then strip the cigar-stinking wool down his arms. She placed everything on the nearest armchair.
“I have a valet for this,” was his only argument.
She smiled softly. “I know, but you also have a wife.”
His Lordship’s sad state tugged at her heartstrings. Tonight, Louisa longed to be a wife to him and a friend when he needed one most. She removed his white silk waistcoat and suspenders. Her face hovered a breath away from his open shirtfront, acutely aware of his blue gaze watching as she worked.
Lord Granborough cleared his throat. “This is pretty,” he said as he fingered the diamanté clasp of her wrapper. He flicked it open with ease, parting the silk to reveal her lacy, ribboned nightdress.
She gasped as he put his hands inside her wrapper, sliding his palms around her waist to pull her close. Louisa’s arms were trapped between them, and she rested her hands on his chest.
He buried his face in her hair, whispering, “If anyone were to ever hurt or bother you…”
She didn’t know what to say to such a thing, so she resorted to their usual banter. “Who would bother me, besides you?”
“I am serious, Louisa—if ever you felt frightened or threatened, you must tell me straight away. Dear, sweet girl, I shan’t let anything happen to you.”
Pressed against his chest, she felt the drumming of his heart. Surely, he felt the pounding of hers through her breast. What had caused this change in him? What was she to do with this tall man brought low?
Louisa pried her hand from his chest. She snaked her arms between their bodies. Emboldened, she moved the flat of his palm up her waist, skimming her ribs, to touch her breast.
He lifted and cupped the little mound, kneading and squeezing, and caressing until her nipples drew into tight buds. The sensation of a man’s warm hands on her flesh nearly knocked her breathless.
She’d felt desire before, oftentimes when catching sight of His Lordship on a good day, when he was handsome and teasing. When their bodies brushed on the dance floor, or those rare occasions when he’d draped his arm over her shoulder and let her sit close in the carriage.
He was her husband now. They’d lain together before. She knew what to expect and wasn’t frightened, and the heat that pooled in her belly hinted at a strange and dangerous promise of something more.
She lifted her lips to kiss him, but Lord Granborough wouldn’t meet her mouth. “Go to bed, Louisa,” he whispered.
Wordlessly, she crossed the sitting room and disappeared into their bedroom suite. She shed her silken wrapper and climbed onto the bed, not bothering to hide beneath the sheets. Louisa lifted her nightdress, spreading her legs to bare herself to his gaze. She closed her eyes and waited for him to join her.
For a moment, there was only the distant rumble of the engines. The gentle rocking of the ship. She took a breath, and then two, before she felt the mattress shift as her husband moved into place.
“Hold me,” she begged of him. “Put your arms around me. I want to be touched.”
