“My God, Tessa,” he whispered hoarsely. She looked down at her nightgown, the matching peignoir, the fur slippers. A long, straight lock of blonde hair fell over her shoulder, and she pushed it back. Joseph took it all in and slowly swiped his tongue across his upper lip.
Tessa’s heart squeezed again. No reaction could be more thrilling, not in her wildest dreams, but Joseph had never made a secret of his desire for her. He’d wanted her. That he’d refused to avail himself, despite her frequent offers, only made his desire seem more thrilling. He was exactly, precisely the opposite of Captain Marking.
She’d told herself that when he took her body, this too would be exactly, precisely the opposite of what Captain Marking had done. If they made it that far...
For days, Tessa’s resolve had been slipping—and not just because she was afraid of the violence involved in sex. She was afraid of the lie she was living by passing her baby off as Joseph’s. She squeezed her eyes shut and looked away.
“What’s this?” he teased. “Modesty—no. I’m in disbelief.” He stepped inside and shut the door.
Her parents had spruced up a vine-swathed cottage on the edge of Berymede’s expansive parkland for the newlyweds’ use after the wedding. Their plan had been to spend a few days in Surrey before they departed for London. When Joseph saw her safely settled in Belgravia, he would embark on the guano expedition.
“Or is this shyness?” Joseph went on, his voice still teasing. “Not my Tess...”
He ambled toward her, taking in the room in a slow, lazy glance. The high, canopied bed, the roaring fire, the cart of food and wine.
Now it was Tess’s turn to stare. He’d removed the jacket he’d worn for the wedding and party, revealing a snug-fitting waistcoat, billowy shirt, and beautifully styled cravat. He was always impeccably turned out, and today was no different. He unspooled the cravat with a yank, pulling it roughly from his neck. Locking eyes with her, he began to unfasten the top buttons of his shirt.
This,she thought, swallowing,is new.
Despite their weeks-long courtship, she’d never seen him without his coat and certainly not with his chest bared. The first thing she noticed was muscled torso and broad shoulders. These had not been an illusion of tailoring. With every flick of a button, she saw more of his throat and pectorals. She let out a miserable half whimper.
He stopped and cocked his head. “Tessa? Darling? What is it?”
She almost said it.
I have lied to you, Joseph. All along.
There is a baby.
You are not the first man.
When you return from sea next year, we will be—I will be...
When you return, I will have had a child.
I will have had another man’s child.
But she wondered for the hundredth time if these statements were strictly accurate.Hadshe lied all along? Was it more accurate to say she had made... omissions?Significantomissions.
She would have a baby, this was true, but Joseph was the first man in her heart and in her mind. To her, he would be the first. No man before him had ever taken her breath away, captivated her, thrilled her. Any man before him was but a faint, dull memory, insufficient and forgotten. The memory of Captain Marking in particular was a dark blot that obscured a full season of her life.
“Tessa?” Joseph said again. His boyish features quirked into a confused grin.
“Perhaps I am a bit... nervous,” Tessa said faintly. She could not remember having been more nervous.
“Come,” he said, winking at her, taking her hand. “Let us discover what the servants have left. Are you hungry?” He made a low whistle. “Wine? Lovely. Let’s eat something, shall we? And drink something. We’ll indulge in a...” he took a deep, amused breath, winking at her again “...chat.”
Tessa swallowed hard and allowed him to lead her. From the beginning, he had approached her with a teasing mix of confidence and gentleness. She would follow him anywhere.
He added, “The ceremony and party were such a to-do, we’ve hardly spoken all day.” He took up the bottle of wine and inspected the label and then tucked it under his arm.
Tell him,she thought.Either tell him or compel him to bed you and never look back.
He dropped into the leather armchair before the fire and tugged her hand, pulling her down on his lap. She fell across him with a little yelp. She still clutched the hairbrush in her right hand. He caught her around the waist and tucked her against him. The possession thrilled her despite her nerves, but it was fleeting. She hadn’t the luxury of being thrilled by sitting in his lap. She looked down at her nightgown and peignoir. The silk settled over the two of them like a ruffled, teal mist.
“Hold still,” he chuckled, “easy. There you are.” He set the bottle aside and tossed away the brush. “No more preening. You are beautiful, as I’m sure you are aware. Far too beautiful for me to be expected to spend any length of time...chatting.” He raised an eyebrow. “Luckily, I enjoy talking to you nearly as much as I will enjoy... not talking to you. It won’t be a hardship. At the moment.” He dipped his head and swiped a swift, soft kiss on the skin of her neck, nuzzling her with his nose.
Tessa squeezed her eyes shut. This was the bit she’d always loved, the kissing and embraces. The experience of... coupling had been very painful with Captain Marking. A piercing, confining intrusion that had caused her to go speechless with fear. But the kissing, especially with Joseph, she adored. She could easily steel herself to be bedded if there was kissing.
