The Seduction of Mr. Alfred Saintsbury
Page 163
“So have you overtaken all domestic matters, then?”
Alfred shifts in his seat.
“It displeases you.”
“It doesn’t.”
“You are affronted.”
“I am not affronted! Only surprised.”
“You find it ill-befitting your husband to stoop to such matters as lemon cake.”
I bite back a smile.
How can I not be weak where he is concerned? Hedoesstoop to matters such as lemon cake—and it is why I have lost my head over him. There are men all over England who think the matter of a lemon cake beneath them. Hell, I thinkIam above lemon cake. And nevertheless I have found one of the rare men who knows that such concerns can often be the difference between happiness and unhappiness and does not see it as a degradation to attend to it.
“Not in the slightest. I think it suits you quite well.”
“You have so much to manage, Annabelle, and I have so little to do. Let me manage it for you. You have no interest in the household. And I do.”
“I’ve already said yes. Come here.”
He moves off the chair and comes towards me.
I want to ask him to hold me. I want him to comfort me the way he did in the water closet. I just don’t know how to ask for it.
So instead I reach for his hand, pulling him towards the bed.
When he lies down next to me, I turn so that my back is against his chest. I close my eyes.Thisis what I wanted. And I got it without having to ask.
I begin to drift off to sleep again, making myself comfortable against him, when he begins to shiftaway.
“Don’t go.”
“I’m not. It’s only…”
I angle myself back to where I was. And then I understand his consternation. He is hard, his cock rigid against my back.
“You aren’t well. I do not expect you to bed me now.”
The truth is for the first time ever in Alfred’s presence, I don’t want to bed him. My desire, which with him is always so sharp, has lost not only its edges but its shape.
“I know,” I say, quietly. “And you’re right—I can’t. Not now.”
But I still want his touch.
“Then I won’t bother you?—”
“No, I don’t mind.”
He curls around me again. Perhaps it is selfish of me. But I find at the moment that I am predisposed to be selfish.
I lie there, strangely and deeply at peace.
And then my husband shifts once more, moving his cockstand—which has grown quite large—away from me.
“Are you uncomfortable?”