As he rushed into the parlor where Jane preferred to spend her afternoons, Sebastian paused. There, on a tufted chair he’d ordered just for his new bride’s comfort, sat Jane. She sighed like a romantic heroine while turning the pages of a book, the fire behind her illuminating the delicious curves of her fine body.
And she wore the dress.
Pleasure surged through him knowing that he had found not just a loving wife, but a playmate miraculously of the same bent as he. How, of all the damsels in London, he had stumbled into love with such perfection, he did not know, but he resolved to endow a church window or charity school in thanks for divine blessings.
His posture changed as he struggled to adopt the boredom of a seasoned rakehell so that his wife might have the full experience of surrender in a rake’s arms.
“Well, if it isn’t Miss Simmons,” he drawled, affecting the speech of the careless youths that roamed the capital in stylish—and often dangerous—packs, traveling between gaming hells, illegal duels, and assignations.
“Sir, I see that the news has failed to reach you: I am recently wed,” she said. “I had the honor of joining Lord Lyons in matrimony only last week.”
Sebastian sauntered closer to his bride, affecting a sneer. “Lyons? I think I know him from the club,” he said, sweeping the tails of his coat aside so he could join Jane on the small seat.
“I was unaware that you remembered my name. I’m dreadfully sorry that I seem to have forgotten yours,” she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Not important,” he said, wrapping one of her artfully disarranged chestnut curls around his finger. “Not important at all when matrimony suits you so well; a topic I’d much rather discuss.”
“Sir, you seem to have closed the door on your way into the room. For the sake of propriety, we should leave it ajar. I’d hate for the servants to talk.”
“Never mind that,” he said, “you are a married woman now and have far more liberties in terms of your conduct.”
“I wouldn’t want my husband to doubt—”
“Surely a love match like yours entails a good deal of trust,” he said, gently tugging the curl before releasing it. “Don’t tell me that the flames have already died and he doubts your fidelity?”
“Never!” she exclaimed. “I really think you should go, sir.” Jane turned to put her back to him.
Sebastian wrapped a hand around his wife’s trim waist and let his fingers spread until they possessively covered her stomach. “You’re a bride in bloom. Has he already planted his seed in you? The sooner the better, I think, for once he gets his heir and spare, you’ll be free to consort with a more exciting sort of man,” he said.
“You are too bold! I must insist that you leave at once!” she cried.
Sebastian pulled her against his chest, moving his hand up to feel her breast.
“And yet you lean into this stolen moment and allow me to take liberties with your person. Is your groom failing in his marital duties? I know a man that would be happy to step in now if you require an alternate father for your heir and spare,” he said.
“You disgust me,” she said, allowing her head to loll on his shoulder in surrender. “I would never forsake my husband for temporary pleasures with a rake.”
“But would they be so temporary?” he asked silkily. “I can assure you I’d make your pleasures last.” Sebastian slipped his hand inside Jane’s bodice and pinched her hardened nipple.
“Sebastian sees to all of my needs, sir.”
“Curious,” he said. “Does that mean he’s also an experienced man about town? A rake?”
“If he was in the past, that is no matter now, for I plan to see to all of his needs right here in our home,” said Jane.
“And how does a cosseted miss plan to satisfy her rake husband’s every desire? Aristocratic wives don’t even whisper about most pleasures,” Sebastian said, his nose tracing his wife’s ear.
“An experienced lady has advised me,” she said. “And I study.”
“Ahh, wifely manuals of conduct,” he said, laughing as he pulled the book from her trembling hands. “Fordyce’sSermons to Young Women? Say this isn’t your guide! An antique by the end of the last century, how is this supposed to keep your husband looking towards home for his sexual needs?”
“I intend to be a perfect helpmate to my Sebastian,” she said, her bosom heaving as he continued to toy with her breast.
“A helpmate sounds like a wife that stares at the ceiling while her husband inflicts his lust on her, not a temptress that will ensure he never strays,” he said, settling his free hand on the frothy fabric covering her lap. “But I could teach you to keep his eyes directed on you always.”
“I have no indication that my husband would ever look elsewhere for his pleasures,” said Jane.
“Does he chase you around the house and flip up your skirts? Teach you filthy words for your nether parts? Arrange assignations in the middle of the day when he should be ensconced at his club?” he asked.
