At the conclusion of his speech, he offered a courtly bow and a smile that even felt wolfish on his lips. “I strongly caution you not to try my patience. Good evening and goodbye, Lady Carr.”
With that, he left her where he had discovered her, determined that it would be the very last time she would cause any harm to Virtue or his marriage. The past was now where it belonged.
Forever.
CHAPTER19
“The horse dung in the street?” Virtue laughed delightedly. “Did you truly say all that to Lady Carr?”
“Yes, I did.” Trevor’s voice was a deep, beloved rumble at her back.
They were seated together in the tub, where they had been soaking away the strains of the night in the pleasant warmth of heated water. She was nestled between his long legs, surrounded by his strength, her head resting comfortably against his shoulder. He still sounded outraged on her behalf, as if he were about to leap from the tub to hunt down the countess and deliver another biting set down.
“In the midst of a ballroom, no less,” she added as her mirth faded.
The silliness of his threat aside, the way he had defended her left Virtue humbled and awed. Thankful, too. So much had happened over the course of the Torrington ball, and she was still awash in confusing emotion.
“I could have said and done far worse,” Trevor said wryly, dipping his fingers into the water and then removing them to leave a trail of droplets on her forearm where it rested on the lip of the tub. “She is bloody fortunate I didn’t throw her into a pile of it after the way she treated you.”
Another chuckle escaped her at his protectiveness toward her. She had been shaken by Lady Carr’s cruel words, yes. But it had been the countess’s suggestion that Trevor would return to her that had been the most distressing. Comparing herself to the beautiful widow had left Virtue feeling vulnerable and uncertain. But her husband’s unexpected declaration during their waltz had cast any lingering doubts to the ether. Precisely where they belonged.
“It wasn’t as terrible as that,” she reassured him. “Besides, I hardly think Lord and Lady Torrington would have been impressed had you carted one of their guests off to the mews for an impromptu bath in dung.”
He kissed her crown. “Don’t think I won’t toss her into the nearest heap of manure, head first, if she ever dares to insult you again.”
Oh, her heart. Give her an arrogant duke who gifted her books, spouted incorrect Shakespeare, and threatened to throw awful women into horse manure on her behalf, and she could not help but to fall in love. Trevor was so much more than she had first realized on the day she had come to Hunt House, overwhelmed by its size and the strangers to whom she would be commending herself.
Little had she known he had been watching from his study window. That he had committed that day to his memory—his initial sighting of her—as if it were a precious treasure in need of preservation.
“You are quiet,” he observed, nuzzling her ear. “What are you thinking?”
“I am thinking that I was wrong about you when I arrived,” she said, watching as his long fingers dripped more water over her forearm. “I spent the entirety of my journey to London thinking you some ancient ogre intent upon robbing me of my future. But then I met you.”
“And what did you think then?”
She smiled, recalling their first meeting in his study, how elegantly he had been dressed, his cravat impeccably tied, his buff trousers fitted to his muscular thighs, his boots gleaming. But it had been his face which had been most intimidating and arresting, such masculine beauty the likes of which she’d never seen.
“I thought you were a young, handsome ogre intent upon robbing me of my future,” she said.
“Not fair,” he said lightly against her ear, his lips grazing it as he spoke. “My sole intent was to give you a future.”
“By marrying me off,” she said archly.
“Because I couldn’t resist you.” As if to prove his point, he cupped her breast, catching her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and tugging gently, creating an answering ache in her sex. “I knew if I didn’t take care, I’d want to keep you for myself.”
“And why shouldn’t you keep me for yourself?” Feeling bold, she caught his hand in hers and guided it beneath the water, between her legs.
He groaned, his fingers gliding expertly through her folds, finding her pearl and stroking. “I was afraid to be vulnerable. To give someone else so much power over me, the power to crush me with but a word. I’ve spent my life avoiding attachments. Imagine my horror at forming the greatest one of all.”
“Love,” she said, sighing as he swirled over her swollen bud, the hot water and his touch making her restless. But this was an important conversation. She wanted to know more about this enigmatic man who was her husband. Wanted to know everything. “You were afraid you would fall in love, do you mean? With me?”
“God, yes.” He kissed her throat. “You terrified me from the moment you swept into my study. I knew I couldn’t have you, and yet I had never wanted anyone more.”
Knowing he had felt the same attraction as she had, an invisible pull between them, from that very first meeting, pleased her.
“But now you have me.” She turned her face toward his, caught in his dark-brown eyes, smoldering with love and desire. For her. All for her. “And I have you.”
“We have each other.” He kissed her, lips moving tenderly over hers, chastely at first and then deepening as he gave her his tongue.
