“Jasper.” She rocked his body there upon the floor the way one rocked a child to sleep. She did not know where the instinct came from. “Take me to bed, husband. Regain yourself.”
***
Had he heard her right? Had his wife just offered herself after all he’d done and said?
Had Elizabeth called him by his true name?
Milton’s howling, inner demon retreated to its cave, allowing his breath to flow and his flesh to feel the rise and fall of her soft breast against his cheek—soothing, pillowy. Her words rang so earnest, so honest, something splintered in his soul.
“Lizzie, I’ll not take you against your will. I would never?—”
“I know this,” she told him softly. “You did not take me last night.”
He lifted his head. “You hate me.” He was convinced.
She exhaled. “I do not hate you, husband. I do notunderstandyou.”
“There is nothing to understand.” He slumped again.
“Oh, I beg to differ.” She did not smile; the moment was too solemn. “I think, sometimes, ’tis you who hates me. Sometimes I think you should have … It no longer matters.” She sounded sad. “We are stuck with one another, so we must make the best of it.” Her eyes blinked back tears as she shifted, straightening her body. “I am willing to try to improve things between us, Milton, if you will also try.”
This was too much, when he’d expected so much less. His arms slipped about her as he reversed their positions. “I am willing to try, too, Elizabeth. I mean that, but you were correct, before, when you said that someone had?—”
“Did they beat you when you were young?” she asked. “Is that how you got your scars?”
“Were I to tell you every evil I have witnessed, experienced, or myself inflicted, Lizzie, it would only scaryou.”
“Tell me!” she implored. “Scar me with words so that you are notmydevil but instead caught in some other devil’s path, the recipient of a different devil’s wrath. Jasper, if you keep me at bay I will insist only more. It is my nature to seek answers.”
Lord was that ever true.
“Lizzie, I’ve made a mess of things.”
“Yes,” she declared, “you have. But I have too. Another woman would have better accommodated your wishes and followed your six rules. Not to mention cost you a great deal less in broken spectacles.”
“And bored me to no end.” Milton was amazed he could smile. It felt good to smile. “You challenge me at every turn and please me very much in bed, Lizzie.”
“Nonsense,” she mumbled.
“’Tis true. You, wife, have the most gorgeous derriere, and the most pleasing breasts to ever fit my palms.” He slid his hands inside her robe.
She let out a sound like a kitten’s faint mewl, melting him into a puddle. He pulled her up with him. “Come, I’ve a gift for you on your twenty-fourth birthday.” He led her to his dresser, where he handed her a package.
Elizabeth slowly unwrapped it, her face alighting with pleasure. “How did you?—?”
“Annabelle took me shopping this afternoon and informed me not only of your true age, but of my being a true arse. Why did you not tell me it was your birthday, Lizzie?”
“Birthdays are fraught,” she admitted. “But your gift…” She looked longingly at the book. “To receive a first edition with the author’s signature is…” She smiled up at him. “Thank you, Milton.”
His body bloomed as if fed by warm, summer rain. The sensation made him bold. “I thought, perhaps, we might read it together evenings in bed.”
“I should like that very much, Milton.”
Had his wife’s heart just opened a crack?
“Shall we start tonight?” She surprised him more.
“It is your birthday, Elizabeth, you may do as you like.”
