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Richard’s head bobbed up in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“I thought perhaps … this was an old meeting you forgot to cancel. Or a standing arrangement had not been … well … called off? From before. When you … I mean, you only recently decided to change your ways … Perhaps this is how you spent your evenings …” She trailed off, feeling silly.
“No! I never paid coin for … that. I would never risk my health on …” He took a deep breath to continue. “Apparently, some acquaintance of mine thought it would be amusing to play a lark on me and showed them to my rooms. If I find out who exposed you to this, I will kill them with my bare hands. Radcliffe is downstairs questioning the servants to find out if any of them assisted with this … this … invasion of our home.”
Sophia stared at him for an eternity, not sure what came next.
“Sophia, I do not think this is the night to celebrate our wedding.” Richard turned away to glare at the wall.
She could see his point. He still appeared disturbed, and the wonderful rapport they had built earlier in the day was missing. They sat together in their dejected silence while Sophia pondered what to do. She wanted to assist him, to play a part in his restoration of honor. This seemed like a moment that she should show her mettle in some way, to somehow mitigate this disastrous night. Show some kindness to alleviate his mood.
“Perhaps …”
His eyes found hers. “Perhaps?”
“Perhaps you would care to lie in my bed with me? Just to sleep?” she asked softly.
The regret in his eyes softened, and he exhaled deeply, his posture relaxing. “I … I would like that very much.”
Sophia rose and took his hand, leading him to the large canopied bed. Releasing his hand, she slipped off her dressing gown and quickly climbed under the coverlet, pulling it snugly around her. She glanced over as he removed his own robe, hesitating briefly before joining her. She turned onto her side, her back to him, as he extinguished the lamp.
In the quiet darkness, she felt him shift closer, his hand settling gently on her hip. The simple touch carried a tentative reassurance, and she pressed back slightly, offering comfort in return. His tension seemed to ebb away, replaced by a steady warmth that eased them both.
Closing her eyes, she let the exhaustion of the long day wash over her. There would be time to address their troubles in the morning. For now, she allowed herself to savor the quiet closeness of his presence, the warmth of his nearness lulling her into rest.
Sleeping near his bride without acting on his feelings had been a true test of his resolve. His body ached with longing, but his conscience held firm, reminding him of the trust she had placed in him. It was not simply a matter of physical desire—he had never wanted anyone as much as he wanted Sophia, and that made his restraint all the more difficult.
When the tension became too much to bear, he shifted slightly, putting a small distance between them to compose himself. Only then, after what felt like hours of inner turmoil, did he finally drift into an exhausted sleep, her presence still a comforting balm to his restless heart.
Slowly, he awakened and opened his eyes to discover it was morning. He blinked in surprise when he found clear blue eyes staring into his. His bride was awake and watching him closely.
Tentatively, she leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He shifted slightly, a wave of emotion surging through him at the unexpected gesture. Her free hand emerged from the covers and reached up to smooth back his hair, her touch gentle and reassuring.
Her fingers lingered, tracing softly along his temple and down his neck, her attention tender and curious. She rested her hand lightly on his chest, her fingertips brushing over his torso as though memorizing the shape of him. Each touch sent a shiver through him, and he clenched his hands to keep himself still, letting her explore without interruption.
When he could no longer contain his feelings, he rose onto one elbow, gazing down at her with an intensity born of affection and longing. Lowering his head, he met her lips in a kiss full of warmth and sincerity, a reflection of the connection blossoming between them.
This seemed a perfect moment to—
A discreet knock interrupted his intentions. “My lord, there is an urgent matter to attend to.”
Richard lowered his head onto her shoulder to scowl at his butler’s intrusion.
What could be important enough to interrupt me in my bride’s chambers?
Belatedly, he recalled the events of the night before.
On second thought, perhaps his butler had cause. Sighing in resignation, he leaned forward to press a kiss against Sophia’s forehead and then withdrew from the bed. He donned his robe over his night clothes and went to the door, stepping out into the passage to talk with Radcliffe while shutting the door behind him.
Radcliffe looked a little worse for wear, dark shadows under his eyes, but otherwise his usual tidy self. Richard wondered if his faithful servant had been to bed or if he had been questioning the servants all night.
“A certain guest has arrived early, my lord.”
Richard frowned. He was not expecting any guests … other than … other than … Stuff!
“My son has arrived?” he asked below his breath.
“Yes, milord.”
