“I—”
“Before you say anything, there’s something I must tell you,” she said. She was near tears, plucking at a flower pinned to her waist. “I don’t know if this is why you summoned me here, but I should have told you already. The guilt has been killing me.”
What was she on about?
“Our household in London — during my Season — cost my guardians a good deal of money. They economized. They did it so ruthlessly that they stopped paying tradespeople and even the staff.”
Frederick couldn’t speak. He’d never looked askance at his wife for having collected wages, even if it meant playing music near libertines. Why, he was one of those libertines, and he knew quite well that her actions were entirely innocent! And even if they hadn’t been, damn mores, he wanted her.
“I took a position playing the harp. I didn’t realize when I accepted the role that it was for a secret society. That engaged in certain behaviors.”
She looked up at Frederick, now at her elbow, and her eyes were full of tears. “I only played the harp to pay those tradespeople and staff for their labor! But I saw things. Accidentally.”
Frederick’s breath caught. She was about to confess something when he was, in fact, the transgressor. He should have stopped her, apologized for his role, but the beautiful fear on her face had him transfixed. She was perfect like this. He’d never wanted her more.
“I saw…I saw a man,” she whispered. “He haunts my dreams. A nude man. Save a mask.”
“You feared him?” asked Frederick, finding his voice at last.
“I was scared. And something more. Only when we came to be married did I recognize the feeling completely.”
Frederick placed his hand on her forearm, meaning to comfort her, but mostly alarmed that she might flee.
“What I felt was desire.”
She was trembling, eyes wet, and clearly aroused. His cock felt like a steel beam in his trousers. He wanted nothing more than to plant himself in her rich soil, run his cheeks over her moss. Marianne was fertile land, and he meant to sow his seed all over her so their line would grow strong.
Frederick slowly reached a hand to his beloved wife’s face, more pleased than even on their wedding day. He stroked his thumb over the apple of her cheek, then brushed her lips until they parted slightly for him. Even her teeth were beautiful.
“My love—”
She gasped. Had he never told her? No matter, he had something important to share.
“My love,” he repeated, “it is I who must explain something to you. To apologize for my transgressions prior to our marriage. But never after.”
She looked at him in wonder, as if the idea of a duke apologizing to his beloved wife never entered her mind. Oh, the things she would learn.
“I was a libertine. Prior to our marriage,” he said.
“But you weren’t—”
“I was not merelyalibertine. I wasthelibertine. The one you saw.”
Her lips parted on a gasp, and his thumb slid into her warm, wet mouth. It was a distracting sight, the most carnal, erotic thing he’d seen, never mind the revels of before — this was his Marianne submitting to his domination as if by instinct. Heaven help him keep his cock within his trousers when he wanted her so badly.
She studied him, saying nothing.
“Can you forgive me?” he asked. “For participating in debaucheries when I should have only thought of seeking you out? It’s just that I never imagined…never thought I’d feel…”
And then her lips wrapped around his thumb and sucked in answer to his confession. Did this mean she forgave him?Understood? He was awash in doubt and lust, hoping their nascent union would survive.
“I never thought I’d feel—” he said before Marianne pulled him by the neck and kissed him with all the innocent ardor he’d wished of her.
He eased back, trying to understand. She grabbed him again for another kiss. Promising, but his stomach churned at the lingering doubts.
“Does this mean—”
“You were the man I saw?” she asked at last. “The one who awakened feelings in me I didn’t know existed?”
