She’d never heard such a tone from William. At least, not directed at her.
Rose crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly cold.
“I thought him dead, long dead. Even my family did not know about him. No one did. So in the beginning, there seemed no point in saying anything.”
“In the beginning, perhaps, but after I asked you to become my wife. Surely then!” William paced the length of the room. “Nobeforethat. How about when you let me fall in love with you?”
“I ... I cannot defend myself. I didn’t want people to know what I had done.”
“People?” he repeated, his voice raised. “I am not ‘people’!”
“I know.” Rose didn’t know what else to say. She had used him terribly.
William paced away from her, seemingly trapped by the four walls. At the far corner, he turned.
“I wanted to give you everything,” he said loudly, nearly shouting. “Experience everything with you.”
“As did I. As I still do.” It was true. She loved William Woodsom, and right then, in his anger, he was magnificent. His passion for life was something that had helped her to come back from the frozen world she’d slipped into after Finn.
“Is that so?” He stalked closer again.
She nodded, fascinated by this uncivilized creature who had materialized before her.
He practically roared as he swept a porcelain vase off the nearest table. She jumped as shards scattered across the floor.
“And yet you have already experienced some things, and let me believe otherwise.”
Ah, his pride was rearing its head at thinking he had been duped out of being her first lover if not her first love. She understood enough to know that was important to a man, especially one of William’s standing.
“No,” Rose said, glad she could at least give him this. “I agreed to marry you with my virtue entirely intact. A virgin wife the first time, a virgin bride for you.”
This made him pause, stare hard at her, but then he practically spat out the words, “Then Bennet is an idiot.”
She started to shake her head when he closed the gap between them, pulling her into his arms with none of his usual playfulness. Within seconds, while he gripped her upper arms, he crushed her mouth beneath his.
Rose knew he meant to punish her, and she allowed him to be hard and fierce, and then, she wound her arms around his neck and held him close. Her body melted against his as it always did, and he deepened the kiss, slanting his mouth, teasing hers open.
His tongue swept hers, tasting her, and she relished him. His hands released their tight hold on her arms and circled behind her, languidly drifting up and down the silken bodice of her gown.
At last, she felt the tension in him draining away.
When long moments had passed, William gently nipped her lower lip, sucking it briefly into his mouth before he rested his forehead on hers. Together, they breathed in unison.
“Thank you,” he said.
Flinching at his gratitude, Rose leaned back to look at him. “What could you possibly be thanking me for?”
“Thinking you’d had marital relations with Finn made it worse. Your telling me that you are still an innocent makes me feel less of a fool.”
She reached up and stroked his handsome face. “You are no fool, Mr. Woodsom. If I could go back and do things differently with you, I would. I would tell you I was a widow, and then, after fainting with shock at our engagement party, I would tell you I thought I’d seen my dead husband’s ghost.”
“That would have been prudent.” William smiled down at her, sardonic and sad. “You have never been prudent, and I knew that.” He captured her hand on his cheek. “I’ve never before kissed a married woman.”
Rose tried to smile back and failed. “Yes, you have. Quite a few times actually.”
His mouth twisted in a wry grimace. “I suppose you are right.”
He released her, and as he did so, the chill and the fear and the sorrow returned. How much she depended upon him to shelter her. He had healed her heartache, and she had grown accustomed to feeling whole within the circle of their love.
