Rogues and Ripped Bodices (37 page)

He drew back and eyed her. “You
look like the first time I saw you.”

“At the ball? I don’t recall
being wet and dirty.”

He chuckled and fingered
another errant curl. “Not but you had your hair curled like this. They touched
your neck. I remember thinking I wanted to touch your neck too, or even kiss
it.”

Emma drew in a breath. “You
did?” She didn’t think Alexander had thought much of her. He’d been pushed into
finding a wife and she was the most eligible woman. That had been about all
there was to their courtship, she believed.

“You’re a beautiful woman,
Emma.”

“You were very handsome. I was
quite in awe of you.”

Alexander’s lips tilted. “And
there I was quite daunted by your beauty.”

“By me? But... but you climb
mountains and things. How could I possibly daunt you? You’re a duke!”

“Do dukes not get nervous?”

His thumb stroked along her
neck sending tingles down her spine. He did it without thought, it seemed, and
he had little idea of the effect it had on her. He was stoking a fire deep
inside her belly, not only with his touch but with his words. Everything she
had believed about her marriage was beginning to dissolve and be replaced with
something much more appealing.

“I did not think you did.”

“Oh, Emma.” He rested his
forehead against hers. “You have no idea. Of course you do not, you are still
so innocent, are you not?” He drew back and eyed her seriously. “You are, are
you not? Innocent?”

She scowled. What did he mean?
She had been a virgin on their wedding night, but they had consummated. She was
still practically a virgin in her mind, but did that make her innocent?
Certainly not in the normal sense, but she supposed her experience left much to
be desired.

“I... I suppose I am. I’m sorry
that I’m inexperienced and that I... I displeased you.”

His expression softened and he
shook his head. “Do not ever be sorry for that. Never.” Alexander got to his
feet and took her hand to draw her up with him. “I think I should be the one
apologising for displeasing you.”

“You are not displeasing.” But
then she saw it in his gaze and realisation struck. He feared he had displeased
her, not the other way around. “You were never displeasing.”

True, it had not been the
earth-shattering experience she might have hoped, but she had put that down to
her nerves. She had been as stiff as a board and hardly knew how to react. It
had been her fault, surely? But she’d always hoped they might conquer that
together. Instead, he had gone to climb mountains.

“Emma, do you think that
perhaps many things can be solved by simply talking?”

“Yes, I do.”

“And that we never quite did
enough of that?”

“Yes.”

“Should we talk now?” He drew
her close and tilted her chin up with his fingers.

She shook her head. As much as
she knew she would have to tell him everything, because he was right, they
needed to talk and she found herself keen to know. She, who never felt she had
a single useful word to say, wanted to spill out everything to Alexander. And
somehow she felt he would not judge her or scold her. Unlike her mother, he had
never looked at her in disgust when she had laughed or talked about something
silly.

But she didn’t want to talk
now. She wanted to touch and feel. She wanted action, not talk.

“No,” she said when he didn’t
move. “Not just now.”

He nodded with satisfaction and
lowered his lips to hers.

Red-hot fiery need pulsed through Alex’s veins. Her lips
were soft and pliant beneath his. She tasted of sweet tea. Her kiss was
unpractised, honeyed, yet kindled the most unbelievable lust beneath his skin.
This wasn’t the kiss of an experienced adulterer.

When he’d been asking of her
innocence, he’d been speaking of that. Did she understand what he meant? If she
was truly innocent, then probably not. And he suspected he had been utterly
wrong. Would a woman who would jump into the arms of another man so quickly
after her nuptials bring in stray dogs? Would she apologise for her
inexperience or kiss with such a sweet naivety?

Alex pushed his fingers into
her hair and felt more of the braids come loose. He explored the inside of her
mouth with his tongue before drawing back to lick the corner and nibble on her
lower lip. She gasped.

Snowy barked. Startled by the
dog’s sound, he drew back to see the dog had awoken and looked none too happy
with him. The dog barked again and again, and Alex sighed.

“She thinks you’re attacking
me,” Emma said with a giggle.

Alex turned to stare at her for
several moments, taking in her flushed cheeks and swollen lips. Snowy was not
wrong. Hell, if they had continued on, he might well have taken her then and
there on the floor and anyone could have walked in. Imagine the disapproving
look they would have received from Hampton. He daren’t think about the icy
stare the butler would bestow on them. It made him shudder.

Then he eyed her filthy gown
and wet sleeves, and stood. “Come, you need to change or you’ll catch a chill.”

“I’m fine,” she said, taking
his offered hand and standing. A little disappointment shuttered her gaze but
surely she did not wish him to take her here like a barbarian?

“I certainly won’t have you
ailing at Christmas.”

“But any other time you would?”
She grinned.

Alex shook his head with a
chuckle. She had a quick tongue and quite the sense of humour. He really hadn’t
known his wife at all.

Leading her upstairs, he shoved
open the door and released her hand to begin pouring the bath. He turned,
rested against the porcelain, his arms folded, and found her grinning at him
wickedly. Now thoughts of her innocence seemed foolish, but he could not deny
liking having that gleam in her eye directed at him. She pushed the door shut
and closed the gap.

He reached for her and rested
his hands on her hips, his head against her breasts. His heart pounded and his
arousal ached. His intention had been for her to wash and change, then he would
worry about himself, but she had other ideas. Should he not let her get clean
and take her to bed later? Was that not the proper thing to do?

However, none of his imaginings
were the remotest bit proper. He pictured her skin wet and glossy, and covered
in soap. Then he thought of her straddling his legs in the bathtub. He’d heard
enough bawdy talk at the Alpine Club to picture it without ever having done it
himself. Their lovemaking had been confined to the bed, with him on top.

But the ideas he had were far
removed from everything they had done before. He only hoped he could truly
please her this time.

Emma dropped to her knees and
looked up at him, her hands pressed to his thighs. The water sloshed against
the porcelain tub and nearly drowned out her tiny plea to him, “Kiss me,
please.”

Alex took her face and smoothed
a thumb along her jaw and down her neck. Her pulse fluttered and he saw her
throat work, but there was no fear or apprehension. She seemed to be
experiencing the very same powerful desire he was.

Dropping his mouth to hers, he
kissed her until she was breathless and trembling in his arms. Then he drew her
to her feet and set to work on the buttons of her dress. Emma’s hair was wild
and tumbling about her shoulders, her lips full and glossy. She gazed at him
with utter trust, and it squeezed his heart. It had all been a mistake, it had
to have been. So who was that man and why had she been embracing him? Alex
cursed his impulsive nature. Why had he not simply confronted her and
discovered the truth rather than running away like a silly schoolboy?

But as he slipped her gown from
her shoulders and was confronted by the lacing of her corset, he understood now
that he had been no better than a silly schoolboy a year ago, with little idea
how to look after a wife and even less of an idea about himself. Perhaps he
shouldn’t have left, but he had learned a lot from the older gentleman of his
acquaintance and even more about his endurance and determination. He would make
this a good marriage. He would.

Turning his attention to the
bottom half of her gown, he pushed it from her hips until it pooled into a
green puddle on the floor along with her petticoats and bustle. She kicked the
bundle aside so that it skidded across the tiled floor and hit the wall. They
both laughed.

This was what had been missing,
he realised, as he gazed at her glowing face. Laughter. Theirs had been a
serious arrangement. One made logically and carefully. His attraction to her
had simply been an added advantage. Her rank and wealth had been the primary
enticement. And thus, their first night together had been a serious matter too.
A sealing of the deal, so to speak. With them both being virgins, it was hardly
surprising neither had done a fine job of it.

However, now she seemed more
than happy to let him make up for it. He only hoped this time apart spent with
worldlier men had taught him enough to please her.

Alex’s hands trembled as he
knelt to slip off her shoes and push down her stockings. His thumb brushed her
calf as he did so and he saw her skin prick. It gratified to see he had as much
of an effect on her as she did on him. Once he had flung them aside so they
landed on top of her gown, he stood and placed a palm to the base of her spine.
She was no more exposed to him than in her gown really, with only her ankles and
delicate feet showing, yet his blood fired at the sight of her in all that
white cotton.

Her nipples pressed against her
combination, her breasts pressed high by the corset. Her waist was cinched in
by the lace corset and he couldn’t wait to free her of the confines and feel
the softness of her skin.

With his hand on her back, Alex
drew her into him and used a finger to tilt her face to his. “I should not take
you here. It should be in a bedroom. I have much time to make up for.”

“You do,” she said, nuzzling
into his palm.

He let his brows rise. He had
half expected Emma to make excuses for him, but there were none. His meek
little bride was not so meek after all, something he had been learning these
past few days together. He could not help but think being snowed in together
was quite the blessing.

“I shouldn’t have left. I gave
you too much work. I shall stay from now on. Every moment I can, I’ll be here.”
And help her address her terrible finances, he added to himself. He had not
been too happy to see the state of things. But for the moment, he would ignore
their financial problems. He had much more important things to worry about for
now. Like his enthusiastic wife.

“I don’t expect you to hang
about my skirts, waiting on me, Your Grace. But I should like to have my
husband around much more.”

“Enough with this
Your Grace
nonsense,” he grumbled and trailed his hand from her cheek down her arm and
rested it upon her rear. The sweet give of flesh made his body pulse anew. “I
am Alex, your husband, your lover,” he whispered the last word as he lowered
his lips to hers.

“A-Alex,” she stuttered,
forcing him to pause. “I must tell you—”

A rap at the door made him
pause and consider his surroundings.

“Your Grace, is all well? Water
is coming through the ceiling,” Hampton called through the door.

“Bloody hell.” He lifted his
foot and stared at the puddle of water on the floor. “Damnation.” He released
Emma and hurried over to turn off the taps. Glancing at her half clothed state,
he cursed again and lifted her gown. “Hampton, go fetch help.” He waited until
the sound of the butler’s footsteps had faded. “Go to your room and dress. I’ll
have to get the maids up to empty the bath before it floods the entire house.”

Cheeks flushed, gaze lowered,
she nodded and hurried out of the bathroom. Alex sighed and adjusted his
trousers before stomping out into the hallway to wait for someone to help deal
with the overflowing bath. Would he ever get to make love to his wife? Some
Christmas this was.

Emma had never had such a tension-filled dinner, and that
was saying something considering the early days of their marriage. Yet it was
not a dinner filled with nerves or worry. It was anticipation.

Everything Alexander had said
had made her feel sure his feelings towards her had changed and that perhaps he
had not been entirely disgusted with her during their first few times together.
Theirs had been a marriage borne of misunderstandings.

If only they had not nearly
flooded the bathroom. She could not help but think that if she revealed all and
they made love—properly, completely, with no fears—this could be the fresh
start they needed and they’d finally understand one another.

Alexander eyed her over his
wine glass with a smile. The dinner was beautiful, having intended to be for
all their family, though Hannah had tried to save as much of the food as she
could for the next day and save herself some cooking. The goose was far too big
for the both of them, as would the turkey be but the cook refused to serve up
cold meat for Christmas Day so the goose would be used for sandwiches in the
evening.

The dark glimmer to her
husband’s eyes sent a flurry of need, as deep and as thick as the snow into her
stomach. Emma felt her cheeks heat. With the lamps and candlelight glinting off
his hair, he looked like the archangel Gabriel. That was almost certainly a
blasphemous thought, but it could not be helped. Her husband was indeed a most
handsome man.

“Cease looking at me like
that,” she scolded softly after dessert was brought out.

“Like what?” he asked
innocently, spooning some Dariol pudding into his mouth.

A tiny fleck of it sat on his
bottom lip and he dabbed it away with a napkin. Emma bit back a sigh. She
wanted to lick it away and taste his lips again, to relish the almond and
cherry flavour on them. The way he kissed her... If she had been a debutante,
she would have swooned. As it was, she had been close. He made her knees
tremble, her chest ache. He had never kissed her like that before—with so much
passion and no inhibition.

Emma glanced at the footman
standing by the table with leftovers on and thought better of mentioning that
he looked as though he was undressing her with his eyes.

“You know very well what.”

He laughed and threw down his
napkin. “You cannot blame me. It has been a long time.”

More heat surged into her
cheeks and she clapped her hands to them. At least she knew he had not taken
pleasure elsewhere. He must have been faithful this past year or else he would
not be so desperate for her. Besides which, Alexander had never really been
able to lie to her. They skirted around so much because neither of them had the
ability to tell falsehoods.

But there was still one
falsehood. She needed to tell him—had been about to tell him— about Geoffrey.
Then the bath had flooded and she hadn’t had the chance. Now she greatly feared
ruining the evening. Perhaps when she got him into her bed later, she would
bring it up. Or even while they read and had a cocoa in the drawing room. The
truth had to come out, not just because he intended to stay at Balmead more
often, but because if they were to have a proper marriage, he had to know all
the sordid details of her family and her half-brother. It was only fair.

They did retreat to the drawing
room for drinks, though Alexander had a brandy while she sipped another glass
of wine. She didn’t wish to drink too much but she certainly needed the liquid
courage. The scent of wood smoke filled the room and the fire cast a beautiful
glow. In the corner, the candles on their tree had been lit and all the lamps
and other candles were still unlit with the exception of a few on the
mantelpiece. The curtains were left drawn back to give them a marvellous view
of the white scenery, highlighted by a half moon. It was, in her opinion, the
perfect Christmas scene.

She glanced at the bottom of
the tree and saw a few parcels had been left there too. They were crudely
wrapped in brown paper and string.

“Presents?”

Alexander placed his brandy
down and came to stand beside her as she paused in front of the tree. He put
his hands to her arms and drew her against the solid strength of his chest.
Emma closed her eyes and savoured it. She still wanted a child. But Alexander
had already taken away so much of that emptiness that had filled her in their
time apart. She had not realised it but she was missing her husband.

“I brought some of them back
from France with me. I hope you like them. I’ll admit I’m not very
knowledgeable when it comes to women but some of my friends advised me.”

“I am sure I will like anything
you give me, but I feel terrible. I only have one gift for you.”

“I don’t need any gifts. I hope
you’ll give me all I need this festive season.”

She turned in his arms and
rested her head against his chest. Emma could not quite believe this was the
man she had so feared seeing again. He seemed relaxed, happy, content, and she
felt the same. So much time wasted... She shook her head.

“You will not give me
anything?” he asked, a brow raised.

She smiled. “No, not at all. I
just cannot believe how much time we wasted apart.”

“If it makes you feel any
better, I believe it might have done us some good. Helped us mature a little.
You have taken a lot on managing this estate and I learned much on my travels.”

“That’s very philosophical of
you, Alexander, and I suppose you might be right.” She peeked over at the white
dog sleeping in Alexander’s chair before letting her gaze linger on her
husband’s features. His expressive eyes made her heart stutter. “Christmas is a
time for fresh starts and forgiveness, is it not?”

He nodded and plucked at a curl
of her hair to wrap it absently around his finger.

“Then shall we forgive
ourselves and each other and make this a fresh start?”

“I should like that very much
indeed.”

She stood on tiptoes and swept
her lips over his. He kissed her back, firmly, briefly, before drawing back.
“Will you not open a gift?”

“Now?”

“Yes, why not?”

“Any one in particular?”

“How about this one?” He bent
and plucked up a small flat one.

Emma settled on the chaise and
he came to sit by her as she drew open the string to reveal a small box and
inside a heart-shaped locket. “Alexander, it’s beautiful.” She opened it to
find their portraits in it, side by side. Tears stung her eyes. She had not
realised until now how much she wanted this, how much she wanted them to be
husband and wife in every sense of the word.

“You like it?”

She heard the uncertainty in
his voice and cupped his face so she could press a kiss to his cheek. “I do,
it’s wonderful. Will you put it on for me?”

He took the necklace and
fastened it around her neck. “I was not sure if you would,” he admitted
quietly. “It seemed a rather bold gift at the time and I had thought of keeping
it to myself, but I’m glad I didn’t.”

“Me too.” She fingered the gold
heart and pressed it to her chest. “I shall treasure it.” Feeling emboldened by
his gift and his words, and even the risk he had taken buying such a gift when
their marriage had been so uncertain, she took his hand. Emma let a smile tease
her lips as she took in the sight of her handsome duke. His broad shoulders
begged her to sweep her hands over them, that dip in his chin called to her
fingers to play over it. She longed to kiss each inch of that jaw and run her
fingers through his golden hair.  “Will you not come and unwrap your gift?”

A crease appeared between his
brow. “I thought you said I only had one, and I don’t see it here.”

“It’s not here.” She lowered
her voice and prayed she didn’t seem a fool. “It is in my bedroom.”