And God help her, he was temptation in the flesh. He kindled a hunger in her, not only to be touched but to touch him as well.
“I don’t mean to push,” she whispered.
Though he was speaking good sense, to stay apart, she sensed that it would only heighten his frustration. And although she’d tried to warn him about wedding her, tried to make him stay away, he’d refused to let it go. Now that they were married, she wanted to make the best of their companionship. But without intimacy, she suspected that with each passing day, he would grow more resentful. Later, it might come between them, just as she’d suspected it would.
She couldn’t let that happen. Already she’d lost her son. She didn’t want to lose her husband, too.
Paul had tried to give her so much already—a gown for her wedding, a night together where he’d made her feel wonderful. Even a fine house that was nicer than the one she’d lived in for most of her life. The handsome physician had transformed into a viscount, almost like the fairy stories Margaret had read to them when they were growing up. Only Paul didn’t seem happy about it. There was uneasiness in his demeanor, as if he felt unworthy of the title.
There had to be a way of making him feel comfortable in his new role. And she wanted to do whatever she could to help their marriage begin on the right note.
“You don’t even ken what you do to me,” he murmured, drawing his hands over her spine.
No, but she wanted to give him the same release that he’d given her. The idea of touching him intimately, of bringing him that same arousal that he’d given her, was a sense of power she’d never known. What would he do if she touched him and kissed him in the same way?
Without thinking, she drew her arms around him, bringing his body against hers. He was tense, his shoulders tight as she pressed close. “We should share one room. Not two.” She raised her mouth to his and kissed him softly. With her lips open, she teased at him with her tongue, hoping to coax him out of his dark mood. He opened slightly, his mouth responding, while his hands moved to her spine. Against her hips, she felt the rise of his desire and heard the shift in his breathing.
A sudden restless yearning took hold of her as she continued kissing him, and she took his face between her hands. His cheeks were bristled from not shaving, and it reminded her of the primitive Highlander he was. Yet he was holding fast to his control, never taking command of the kiss. Beneath his mouth, she felt his silent discontent, as if he were made of stone.
“No. We won’t.” With that, Paul stepped around her and unlocked the door, leading the way down the hall.
It seemed her husband had no intention of being close to her again. And Juliette wondered if it was even possible to change it.
Beatrice had not owned a new gown in nearly ten years. After it arrived as a gift from Victoria for her birthday, she marveled at the yards of blue silk. She almost felt like a girl of twenty again and was eager to try it on.
“Happy birthday, Lady Lanfordshire.” Mrs. Larson beamed, helping her to lift the gown over her head. “Ye’ll look bonny indeed in this. Lord Lanfordshire willna be able to keep his eyes off ye.”
Beatrice flushed, hoping that was the case. Over the past few weeks, Henry had immersed himself in the ledgers, uneasy about their profits from Aphrodite’s Unmentionables, but still trying to unravel years’ worth of financial problems. She hoped that he would put the books aside tonight, at least.
“Will Her Grace be joining ye and Lord Lanfordshire for supper tonight?” Mrs. Larson asked, as she finished buttoning up the new gown. “I could bake a cake, if it pleases my lady.”
“I’ve invited Victoria and His Grace,” Beatrice admitted. “I hope they will come, and yes, a cake would be lovely.” Though Victoria’s pregnancy was advancing rapidly, she was glad for her daughter’s company.
Mrs. Larson helped her fix her hair, and when it was done, Beatrice stared at the woman in the looking glass. The years had left their mark on her, and although she’d begun gaining back some of the weight she’d lost, she could no longer look at herself and see a young woman. There were lines around her eyes, and her neck showed the signs of aging. She gave a sigh and turned away. Some things couldn’t change.
When Henry came into their room, she forced a smile. “I haven’t seen you for most of the day.”
“I’ve been busy.” He hardly glanced at her, and she waited for him to say something about the gown. Instead, he went to the writing desk and opened several drawers in search of a pen.
Her earlier happiness deflated instantly. But then, he hadn’t really looked at her.
She crossed over to the desk and stood directly beside him, waiting. At last, he glanced up. His eyes passed over her updo, which Mrs. Larson had threaded with matching ribbon. Then he briefly saw the gown, but said nothing. “Was there something you wanted?”
Yes,she wanted to blurt out.I want you to notice me. I want you to see the wife you’ve been married to for over twenty years, and not just the mother of your daughters.
“Will you be joining us for supper tonight?” she asked. “Victoria and His Grace might come.”
He frowned a moment. “Shouldn’t she be at home, in her condition? Do you think it wise for her to travel?”
“We live a few miles from them,” Beatrice pointed out. “And it’s only supper.”
“Why would they come?” Henry asked. “And why are you all dressed up?”
“It’s my birthday today,” she pointed out. Clearly he’d forgotten. “And since this gown was a gift from our daughter, I thought it only polite to wear it.”
“Oh.” He found the pen he’d been searching for and closed the desk. “Then I suppose I ought to join you, then.”
“If it wouldn’t inconvenience you.” It took effort to keep the frost from her voice, as though nothing were wrong. She should have known he wouldn’t remember.
