“He’s like a brother.” Portia clasped and unclasped her hands. “I asked him to kiss me in the coach because I had never been truly kissed by a man other than you. I wanted to know if the effect was from the kisses or the man.”
“And?” he asked softly.
She shrugged uneasily and looked away. “He had little effect on me. Of course, that isn’t a very wide test….”
“Portia,” he warned.
She realized her hands were tight together now. “Bryght, I’m scared. Tell me you love me.”
“No. I’ve done that and had it thrown back at me. It’s your turn.”
She eyed him uncertainly, wondering if he wanted a chance to reject her love. Perhaps his nakedness was an insult.
“What is love?” she whispered.
“What do you feel?”
She turned away from the distracting sight of him. “I can’t imagine life without you. I care about you. I want you to be happy. I…I want to bear your children….” Still he said nothing. “I desire you.”
His bare feet had made no sound, so she jumped when he touched her shoulders. He turned her and undid the clasp that held her gown together at the front.
“What…?”
“If you want to bear my children, we had best work at it.”
She gripped his hands. “Bryght!”
He stopped. “I’m sorry. That was unfortunate. I’m still a little angry with you.” He raised his hands to cradle her face. “But I love you, Portia. I, too, cannot imagine life without you. I want your happiness, your children, and your desire. Always. And,” he added with a smile, “the River Thames is rather insistently rising.”
She looked down and saw it was true. She curled her hand around him. He felt as hot as her face. “I can’t believe how bold I am with you. It’s as if I’m not me at all.”
“You are entrancingly you.” He slipped her gown off her shoulders, down her arms, to fall to the floor, then ran his hands restlessly over her pretty bridal stays and petticoats. “No hoops?”
“I climbed out of another window.”
His hands paused. “The north wall. I know. ’Struth, Portia. Try to live a cautious life, for my sake.”
“How can I, married to you?”
He laughed and they kissed then, first tenderly, then deeply, then endlessly, lovingly exploring each other fully for the first time.
Portia was dizzy when they finished, and weak with desire. “I am sorry!” she exclaimed. “Sorry for not trusting you.”
“Now, now. Don’t make me think I’ve married a weak, vacillating woman.” Even with unsteady hands he was efficient. Her stays were gone, and her petticoat fell to the floor. He took out the pins and spread her hair.
Then he kissed her again until she was limp and expecting to be carried to the bed.
But he left her then and went to slip under the bed covers alone. “Come join me in our marriage bed, wife, if that is your will.”
“It is my will,” she whispered, and took off her shift so she too was naked. But then, under his intent gaze, she suffered an attack of insecurity and covered herself with her hands. “I’m sorry I don’t have more curves.”
“I’m not.” He flipped back a corner of the covers. “Come. Come of your own will. I’m done with traps and seduction.”
“That seems a shame,” she said with a laugh.
He didn’t laugh with her, just waited. She knew then how much she’d hurt him and her heart ached.
“I think I’m scared,” she whispered.
