Page 35 of The Lyon’s Paw

Chapter Fifteen

“It is so nice to have you dining with us once more, Diana.” Joanna’s warm words made Geoffrey smile as they finished their dessert of baked custard with berries and cream. “You have monopolized her company for far too long, Geoffrey.”

“Diana would scarcely have liked to hobble down here every evening, Joanna,” his mother said, scooping up the last blueberry on her plate. “It would have been too undignified. And it has only been five days.” She cut her gaze over at her daughter-in-law. “You don’t think you have come down too soon, do you my dear?”

“Do you think I would have let her do so, Mother?” Geoffrey gave her a stern look which elicited a giggle from his wife.

“I assure you, my lady, my ankle is completely sound again.” Diana ate the last spoonful of custard with gusto, then set her spoon down. “I shall not be dancing on it for a while, but perhaps by Christmas—”

“We will see how you get along by then, my dear.” Geoffrey had had this same conversation with his stubborn wife before they came down to dinner. “Best not to rush things with something like a sprain.”

“Christmas is more than a month away, Geoffrey.” Joanna spoke up. “Surely Diana will be able to dance by then. You wouldn’t want her to be a wallflower at Thomas’s Christmas party, would you?” She turned to Diana, her eyes sparkling. “Our longtime family friend, Thomas, the Earl of Braeton, gives a marvelous party each Christmas at his medieval castle in Sussex. There are all kinds of games, feasting, and dancing. It’s such a merry time. You must dance there, you must.” She turned to her brother. “She must dance, Geoffrey. It is weeks away and Diana is already walking with scarcely a limp.”

“Walking and dancing are two completely different things, Joanna, if you haven’t noticed.” He tried to look sternly at his sister, but he caught his wife’s eye and the glint there distracted him thoroughly.

“I am certain if I begin tonight, I will be able to persuade Geoffrey to allow me to dance when the time comes.” Diana’s gaze was warm and inviting and Geoffrey’s blood heated instantly. He and his wife had been performing a dance of their own the past weeks, first one, then the other of them skirting around the subject of the intimacy. Yesterday that dance had come to its penultimate step. Tonight the ultimate move was within their power, he believed.

“Oh, I do hope so.” Joanna set her napkin aside, ready for the ladies to withdraw. “We always have such a lovely time at Thomas’s castle. It’s like a fairytale, when it snows.”

Diana smiled and rose carefully. Her smile wavered and Geoffrey suspected her ankle was still tender. His stubborn wife had refused to wait another day to return to the dinner table. He’d been very happy to monopolize her time in bed these past days. Now he hoped with growing intensity that he would simply join her in that bed.

“Ladies, I am sorry, but I fear I must retire to my chamber rather than pass through to the drawing room. My ankle is somewhat tender after so much unaccustomed exercise.” Diana turned to his mother. “My lady, if you wish to withdraw with Joanna, please do so.” Her gaze then continued to Geoffrey. “My lord, would you please escort me to my chamber? I am more fatigued than I expected.”

Without pause, Geoffrey tossed his napkin down and hurried toward his wife, whose face did look tired and pinched. “You should have spoken up sooner, my dear, if you were in pain.”

“It is nothing much.” She twined her arm in his. “But I think it best if I go straight up.” Diana nodded to his mother and sister. “I hope to see you in the morning.”

They rose and headed toward the drawing room and it was all Geoffrey could do to restrain himself from scooping Diana up and heading up the stairs at a run.

“Please calm yourself, Geoffrey. I am truly fine.” She glanced after the retreating women. “I simply thought while I had the excuse of my ankle, I would give us the opportunity to slip away before more tea and conversation were proposed.

Geoffrey squeezed her arm. “An excellent idea, my dear. Though I thought you might be tired of my company after so much time together.” His voice took on a teasing tone. “I could have sworn that was the reason why you insisted on coming down to dinner tonight.”

“Tired of the room, perhaps, and of that wretched ice bucket for certain, but not of you, Geoffrey.” She gazed up at him, then squeezed his arm as they mounted the stairs. “You have promised me a treat at the end of the cold water treatments, and I mean to collect it now they are done.”

“You do, do you?” He chuckled, although his heart beat a tattoo in his chest. “As I recall, we never specified what that treat was to be—only the distraction. A distraction that I believe worked better than almost any other diversion you could have come up with.”

“Thank you.” She grinned up at him. “But just because the ice baths are over, don’t think you will be released from your duties as reader. I am having too much fun listening to Catherine’s trials and travails. You must continue your reading to me until we have finished all four volumes of the novel.”

“If that is your wish, my dear, it is then my command.” They stopped outside her apartment door and he gazed down into her excited face. “But you still have not named your reward for enduring the treatments with such good grace.”

“Not very good grace at all, Geoffrey.” Diana shook her head, her cupid’s bow lips in a pout. “Not until we hit upon the scheme of reading. Before that I showed anything but good grace when you were only looking out for my welfare.”

“You are allowed to be distressed, love. You were injured and the cure was anything but pleasant.” He bent his head toward her, taking her chin in his hand. “Name your forfeit, my dear.”

“Then this is what I want.” She lifted her pouting lips until they claimed his mouth, pressing herself firmly against his body with an abandon that would have been quite shocking had he not been so eager to return it in kind.

Slipping his arms around her slim body, Geoffrey drew her as close to him as possible while still holding the kiss. Her incredibly soft lips were like sinking into the finest of down comforters. He had to explore what lay beneath that softness. Pressing insistently at the seam of her lips, Geoffrey urged her to open for him and was rewarded immediately with access to her mouth.

More surprising, before he could avail himself of that delightful invitation, she had thrust her tongue between his lips, setting his groin aflame. He groaned deeply, reveling in his wife’s ability to make demands on him as no other woman ever had. Knowing his wife as he now did, he certainly shouldn’t be surprised. A strong woman with a mind of her own, the kind of woman who would be the perfect partner in all things throughout life.

She plundered his mouth again, her tongue soft and sweet, tasting him. She broke the kiss to murmur, “More than anything, Geoffrey. You are all the reward I desire.”

Geoffrey slid his arms around her, lifted her up, and took control. He kissed her long and thoroughly this time before pausing long enough to growl, “Then I am yours, sweetheart.”

Not unexpectedly, when her husband had finished kissing her—taking her breath away in the process—he scooped Diana up in his arms, opened the door to his apartments, and hurried inside.

The chamber was larger than her own, furnished in dark blues and gold. At least the bed was. That was the first thing her gaze encountered, a massive four poster bed, hung with blue and gold striped curtains. The whole thing was enormous, a dark wood she didn’t recognize, each post as big around as a good-sized tree. It looked ancient.