Page 7 of Seducing the Marquess (Lords and Ladies in Love 1)

Instead of reaching for the handkerchief she always kept in her reticule, she simply moved her tongue out and scooped up the piece of ice.

All his blood rushed to his groin.

What the devil is the matter with me? This was his proper wife he was feeling lust for, not some doxy. As they continued with their treat, he seemed to see her for the first time since their encounter. Her hair wasn’t quite as perfect as it usually was. There remained two bright spots on her cheeks, and the sight of her running her tongue around her lips to catch the ice had him realizing how very plump and inviting those lips were.

Of course he’d kissed those lips before. Certainly not in the way he wished to devour them now. But their copulating had always been what was proper between a husband and wife. Not wanting to upset her delicate nature, he’d always visited her in the dark, offered a few perfunctory kisses before he entered her, then quickly took his leave so as not to disturb her rest. Exactly the way he’d been instructed by his father before he’d ever thought of taking a wife,

“Remember, son, a wife is a special person with tender sensibilities. You must not upset her by treating her like a light-skirt. Protect your wife, show her the proper respect, and slake your lust on a mistress.”

Perhaps he was merely fascinated by her lips because of the five months he’d been without his normal sexual release. Not that he had no control over his lusty inclinations. He was not a young pup, but a man fully grown, capable of behaving as a gentleman with his wife, whom he had always treated with the utmost kindness and consideration.

“If you are finished with your ice, my dear, I shall escort you home. Is your maid with you?”

She licked her lips once again and looked at him with surprise. “Oh, dear. Yes, I believe she is. Though I might have left her back at the carriage, waiting for me.”

Odd. To his knowledge, his wife had never before misplaced a servant. “I will have the footman with me instruct her to return to the house, and I will see you home in the carriage I brought.”

“That is not necessary, my lord.” She fumbled with her reticule as she attempted to rise. “I am sure you have other business for which you need attend.”

“Not at all. I shall be happy to see you home.”

Still ruminating on the curious behavior of Eugenia, he extended his arm and they walked away from Gunter’s to their carriage. After only a few steps, it came to his notice the sound of something heavy slapping against her leg as they walked along. It sounded to his ears as if she carried a heavy object in her reticule. When he glanced down at the small bag she patted her upper lip with a lavender-scented handkerchief and turned quite red in the face.

“Is there something in your reticule that I can carry for you?”

“No!” She snatched the bag from her wrist and held it protectively over her bosom. “I purchased some candies and might feel the need to have one.” She darted a glance at him. “Soon.”

They reached his carriage, and he helped her in. He eyed her as they rolled away from Bond Street. She continued to clutch the reticule to her person, her face going from bright red to pale white. If he didn’t know his wife so well, he would think she had something in her reticule she did not wish him to see.

Doubtful. Eugenia was nothing, if not predictable.

Chapter Two

“A man will take notice of a change in hairstyle and manner of dress.”

Secrets of the Bedchamber, p. 40

Eugenia hurried up the stairs and entered her bedchamber, chasing her maid, Sally, away, grateful the maid arrived home safely after she’d abandoned her. She was so unnerved by stealing the book and then running into Devon, of all people, that she actually felt sweat on her body.

She quickly engaged the lock, glancing furtively at the door joining her bedchamber with the sitting room between their rooms. She dismissed any idea of him coming through there since he used the portal only three times a week to attempt to impregnate her. She refused to call it making love.

But now she held in her hand a book that would show her the mysteries of desire and passion. Things she assumed had kept her husband visiting Mrs. Forestor. God rest her black soul.

Sliding the book out of her reticule, she opened the cover and her eyes grew wide. Licking her dry lips, she moved to the padded seat under the window where the light was better and began to read.

The next morning, she thrust the book under her mattress and hurried to the breakfast room. She’d read the night before until the candle alongside her bed had burned out, still shocked at what she’d learned about behavior in the marriage bed. She had no idea that people engaged in such activities. All Mother had told her before her wedding was to, lie still, think of redecorating or new gowns, and soon it will all be over. Your husband will be pleased, and you will have done your duty.

Devon sat at the head of the table, an empty plate in front of him, his head buried in the newspaper. Seemingly startled by her entrance, he dropped his paper and stood. “Good morning, my dear. I am surprised to see you so early.”

“Yes. Well, I did not feel like a tray this morning.” Casting him a bright smile, she made her way to the sideboard where she placed an egg, a slice of toast, and an orange on her plate. She moved toward the table, not quite sure where she should sit since she’d never joined him for breakfast before.

Devon appeared just as confused as she did, although he did have the presence of mind to hold out the chair next to him. He turned to the footman in the room. “Her ladyship will need hot tea, please.”

Eugenia added, “Will you please send word to Madame DuBois that I will be visiting her this morning? Tell her about nine o’clock.”

“A new gown, my dear?” Devon took a sip of his coffee and smiled at her over the rim of his coffee cup.

“Yes. I feel the need to try something different.”