“As I like, eh?” She grinned. “Nowhereis a side of my husband I very much enjoy seeing.”
“At last, a bit of me she likes!” He plopped his naked self upon the bed and patted his side for her to join him. “Shall I read first, or would you like the honor?”
“Oh, I think you should begin.” Her eyes perused his person before they landed at his groin, his blasted cock at half-mast already. She handed him Shelley’sFrankensteinas she eased in beside him. “I should like to hear you read the story. You’ve a lovely, deep voice, Milton. It is most melodious.”
“You joke.”
“I do not.” Though her eyes laughed back at him. “I paid you an honest compliment; be so good as to accept it.”
Milton cleared his throat and opened the book to read.
To Mrs. Saville, England.
St. Petersburgh, Dec. 11th, 17--
You will rejoice to hear that no disaster has accompanied the commencement of an enterprise which you have regarded with such evil forebodings. I arrived here yesterday; and my first task is to assure my dear sister of my welfare, and increasing confidence in the success of my undertaking…
Elizabeth snuggled closer, soon resting her head on his chest. He liked how she felt. Howthisfelt. He read on, content.
Milton turned pages as quietly as he could, the sun boldly peeking in through curtain cracks as his wife stirred beside him. He’d been unable to sleep. Too restless from conversation, lovemaking, fromallthat had changed between them, he’d taken up the book again to read. He found he could not stop.
She stretched and yawned beforescratch, a page scraped, and her eyes flew open.
“Milton, are you?—?”
“Reading, darling.” He gave her nose a quick peck before he turned another page.
“If you are reading ahead, sir, that defeats entirely the purpose of our reading the book together.”
He planted a warm, wet kiss to her forehead next.
“How long have you been awake? And just how far ahead have you?—?”
“Shh, Lizzie.” He placed a finger to her lips, eyes not leaving the page. “I am just at the part where Dr. Frankenstein’s creature has found his creator, listen.”
Life, though it may only be an accumulation of anguish, is dear to me, and I will defend it. Remember, thou hast made me more powerful than thyself; my height is superior to thine; my joints more supple. But I will not be tempted to set myself in opposition to thee. I am thy creature, and I will be even mild and docile to my natural lord and king, if thou wilt also perform thy part, that which thou owest me.
Elizabeth cleared her throat.
“What?” Milton frowned. “Do you not like my monster voice?”
“Oh, your monster is even better than your Victor Frankenstein.” Her lips twitched. “No, it was the last line you read which, er, resonated.” Her eyes glowed.
Milton looked back at the text. “Why, Lizzie,” he smiled, “do you mean to say you will bemild and docile to your natural lord and king?”
She poked him beneath the covers. “Not unless youperform your partand givethat which thou owest me.”
“And just what doth your lord king owe you, woman?”
“Respect!” Her grey eyes flashed. “And freedom and?—”
He hushed her with his lips, letting the book fall to the floor. He kissed her silent, then kissed her silly, kissing her into submission as he kissed his way to her core, to make up for past wrongs and past hurts, for birthdays gone awry.
Milton worked very hard that morning to be thelord and kinghis wife deserved. The sort of man he felt Elizabeth was owed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Annabelle slept like the dead following her visit toThe Leaf, but by morning her spirits were at an all-time low. When she counted the money Mr. Harris had graciously returned her—minus his house cut, of course—she’d enough to buy back Lizzie’s necklace from the Lombard but not nearly enough to play tables anywhere else.
