“I’ll run over to Bond Street right away then.” He met Collette’s concerned eyes. He often saw glimpses of his father in all of them, but he also saw traces of himself.
“I’ll come along with you. Let me grab my bonnet and wrap. I have a few other items to purchase as well.” And then Collette bit her lip. “One other thing. I know you’ve just married and probably want to be with your bride. But Mrs. Marstairs quit yesterday. She apologized for not giving notice, but her mother took ill and she said she was removing to the country permanently.”
And so instead of returning to Byrde House with a trinket or some chocolates as planned, and then taking his wife for a drive through the park, Chase had spent the remainder of the day ensuring that his father’s former mistress had her necessary medications and then quickly locating a new governess so that Sarah, the youngest of his sisters, didn’t fall behind in her lessons. In between interviewing three hastily scheduled applicants sent over by the agency, he’d made a few minor repairs to the house and had a stern talk with Diana about not going out alone. At ten and nine, she reminded him of Bethany’s sister, Tabetha, difficult to contain and far too spontaneous for her own good.
And in between all of these minor emergencies, memories of a most erotic night of bedsport jumped in and out of his mind, creating an urgency to be done with his responsibilities so that he could return home to his wife.
Who had worked herself into something of a blue dudgeon.
Confronted by her now, he realized he’d gone about this all wrong.
She’d needed him today. He wasn’t so obtuse that he didn’t’ realize sex was different for women. He’d had no choice, though, as often was the case where his family members were concerned.
There was no one but him to ensure matters at Farm Street didn’t get out of hand. His sisters were his responsibility, as well as their mother. And then there was his own mother.
He was all they had.
“But you don’t have any sisters,” she echoed, louder than he’d have preferred. The hurt in her eyes had turned to confusion. He placed his index finger on her lips at the same time he nodded.
“Sisters?” she whispered this time, shaking her head. “I don’t understand.”
Familiar perfume wafted into the corridor at the same time the door to the Gold Room opened behind him. Wincing and not removing his finger from her lips, he silently implored Bethany with his eyes not to say anything more.
For now.
She held his gaze solemnly. When she afforded him a brief nod, Chase exhaled a long breath of relief.
All he had to do now was get through dinner with the two of them and hope Bethany could keep her curiosity contained. Later, he would tell her everything and then hopefully…
…experience a night similar to the one they’d shared the night before.
He hadn’t ever craved a woman like this. Had the encounter seemed more elicit, more tantalizing because she was a wife? Or was it Bethany in particular?
He’d undress her again. She’d not complained. She’d kept nothing of herself from him. His fingers itched when he recalled how he’d cut the stays from her body.
“You look lovely this evening, Christine.” Bethany sent a weak smile in his mother’s direction and then a reprimanding one toward him. The set line of her mouth brought him back to the present. Before getting naked with her again, of course, they would have to talk.
His cravat, which had felt perfectly comfortable when he’d left his chamber, suddenly seemed to have tightened. He could count the number of people who had knowledge of his sisters on one hand. It was imperative he keep their existence private, and he’d managed to do exactly that for nearly a decade.
“Thank you, Bethany. It’s important to keep up appearances, as you will learn.” His mother was already retreating into one of her made-up worlds, and Chase didn’t think he had the ability to cope with it tonight.
After assisting her into her seat, he rushed around the table to pull out Bethany’s chair.
She didn’t gush her thanks but neither did she send him daggers.
Good Lord, she’d been imagining he’d left her this morning for another lover—lovers! After the night they’d shared!
Damned London gossips.
It had been too late to stop and purchase flowers by the time he bid farewell to his sisters. And so he’d hurried back to her, anxious to claim what would possibly be their thirtieth or fortieth kiss by now. He’d lost count.
He’d wondered what she’d been doing all day. He’d ached to see her smile.
He’d missed her… By God, when had he become such a besotted fool?
The image of her bare foot on his shoulder and a smoldering gaze helped answer that question.
But when he’d returned, rushed Smythe along, and then eagerly entered her chamber, she’d stared at him as though he’d kicked her puppy.
