Perhaps that was what whores spoke of when they talked of a woman’s pleasure—not merely release, or physical gratification, but something to relish.
Might he also experience pleasure rather than merely a base release?
He lifted her foot and wound the strip of linen around her ankle, binding it firmly and securing the bandage with a knot. Then he lowered her skirts, placed his hand on her bandaged foot, and smiled.
“Thank you…Charles.”
Her softly whispered words threatened to breach his defenses. How could he have ever thought she was anything but a true innocent, as pure and honest as he was tainted? She was an angel, and he was unworthy of her.
He moved to withdraw, but she caught his hand.
“Please,” she said, “don’t leave me again. I-I must say somethingbefore I lose courage.”
He raised his eyebrows, and her throat bobbed as she swallowed. Then she reached for her brandy glass and took a sip.
“M-my brother said that you could annul our marriage if you—if we—did not…”
She hesitated and closed her eyes. Then she opened them again and drained her glass, drawing in a sharp breath as she shuddered with a cough.
Did she fear him so much that she had to fortify herself with liquor?
“D-do you wish for an annulment?” she said, her voice wavering. “Am I so distasteful that you won’t touch me—not even for ten thousand pounds?”
Shaking his head, he caressed her hand, then lifted it to his lips.
“Then, Charles, may I make a request?”
He nodded and kissed her hand.
“W-would you visit my chamber tonight? I didn’t know what to expect before, but I’m ready now.”
Sweet Lord Almighty!What had a beast such as him done to deserve such a sweet creature, offering herself even though she still feared him?
“Please, Charles,” she said, moisture shining in her eyes.
He released her hands and gestured.
Yes.
Her eyes creased with a smile. “I remember what that means,” she said. “Thank you.”
He rose and crossed the floor to the bellpull and rang it. Shortly after, Mrs. Brougham appeared.
Bring my wife’s supper in here so I may tend to her.
The housekeeper nodded, approval shining in her eyes, then patted his arm. “Maybe I don’t need to take the strap to you after all, Master Charles.”
Not the most appropriate response from a subordinate, but Mrs.Brougham’s approval was something he’d craved since boyhood—perhaps because it was hard won, handed out only when he deserved it.
He glanced back toward his wife, settled on the sofa, a soft smile on his lips.
Perhaps, in time, he’d also come to deserve his wife.
Chapter Twenty-Four
While Oliva satat her dressing table, Susie fussing over her hair, a soft knock came on the door. The maid opened it, then let out a squeak.
Olivia’s husband stood in the doorway, dressed only in his breeches.
