Even in her tiredness, as she’d contemplated that she’d nearly waited too long to marry and have children, she’d known that Hugh would act honorably.
If only he’d remembered! Or if she had waited until he’d awakened! That had most definitely not been a part of her ridiculously impulsive plan.
He did look terribly handsome, even sleeping and disheveled. She wanted to reach out and touch his hair but was afraid to wake him.
He was a bit of an injured tiger these days.
Glancing over at the dressing table, she shivered at the way he’d taken her earlier. Initially, she’d been frightened, when he tore her gown. But she had done nothing to stop him. A part of her had known that Hugh needed something more from her. He’d needed a forfeit, of sorts.
And so, as his eyes had burned over her, she’d braced herself for his demands. When he’d turned them both to look into the mirror, she’d surprised herself in that she, too, wanted whatever was going to happen, desperately.
Pain and pleasure collided. She’d throbbed inside as she’d felt him use her. What was wrong with her? No lady would ever admit as much to herself.
Everyone she’d even known had considered her unfeminine, lacking in sensuality and carnal needs. If they only knew! At the tender age of fifteen, she remembered, she had begun to realize the pleasure one could give to herself.
Perhaps that was why she hadn’t cried and wept afterwards… even that first time.
But, Heaven help her, when he’d bent her over the table, she’d wanted all of it! The release she’d found with him had robbed her of even the ability to stand. She’d nearly collapsed to the floor afterward.
Both of them, though, had been left feeling guilty.
Surely, he believed her to be a woman of loose morals. She’d given him no reason to think otherwise.
Penelope could not imagine any of the ladies she knew accepting such treatment from their husbands. Would they?
The Earl of Hawthorne was all solicitousness and manners with Natalie—in public. Was there more to marriage than met the eye?
Lilly and Cortland, too, always treated each other with the utmost of respect and affection. She supposed one never really knew what transpired between a husband and a wife. The glaring difference between her marriage and the wedded bliss of her dearest friends, though, was that they all loved each other. None of them had forced their spouses into doing something they absolutely abhorred—like taking on the paternity of a child they did not believe to be their own.
Hugh rolled onto his side, his back toward her now. She could see that even in sleep, his muscles, beneath the linen of his shirt, were honed and well defined. His hair was long, falling over the collar by an inch or two. She’d not realized how much he’d let it grow. It had been more fashionably styled when they’d been in London.
She was tempted to curl up behind him and take solace in some of his strength. But he would probably not appreciate that. So, instead, she slipped out of bed and went into the dressing room to clean herself.
When she did so, there was more than a little stickiness between her legs.
She was bleeding.
Chapter 21
Rose.She needed Rose. She could not get Hugh to help her. He would believe it was all his own fault. He would think he’d caused it.
None of that really mattered. What mattered was that her little fish were in trouble.Where is Rose?
Penelope took the washcloth and wiped herself clean to see if the bleeding continued. The first swipe was startling, in how much there was, some congealing together in slimy strands. The second swipe showed some whitish material. Was that Hugh’s seed? When she dabbed a third time, with a new cloth, there were just a few spots.
What to do? What should she do?
She folded another cloth and placed it between her legs. The midwife had stressed the importance of bedrest. Strict bedrest if there were any pains, she’d said. Strict bedrest if there was any spotting, she’d said. She’d advised Penelope to be cautious in allowing a physician to examine her. Sometimes, she’d warned, they could do more harm than good.
Penelope slipped back into the bedroom and oh, so carefully climbed onto the bed. She then placed a pillow beneath her knees and laid back, staring at the brocaded canopy above her. She would not allow herself to become upset. These babies needed her breathing deeply and not upsetting them any more than she already had.
Please stop bleeding, please stop bleeding. She placed her hand on her stomach and rubbed it gently.It’s okay, babies. It’s going to be just fine. I love you! You must be okay! You have to be okay! You’re all that I have now!
“Are they moving?”
Hugh was awake and watching her. But wait,werethey moving?
“They are.” That sensation was not cramping. It was her little fish, flipping around, she was certain of it. They would not be flipping around if they were in distress, would they?
