To Win His Wayward Wife (11 page)

Her eyes grew wide and she looked like she was trying not to laugh. “You do?” she whispered in feigned surprise. “Though I’m rather surprised to hear you love something in general, I’m more surprised that it’s waffles.”

“And hot chocolate,” he added.

“Yes, well, even I love that,” she whispered dismissively. “I drink it all the time for breakfast.”

“I wouldn’t know,” he said dryly. “You seem to eat and have vanished by the time I reach breakfast room at the late hour of seven.”

She shook her head. “No. I usually eat and vanish around eight. But the difference is I eat from a tray in my room.”

That was rather odd, he thought. But then again, eating every meal with one’s sister and husband had to get old. “Perhaps tomorrow you can join me for breakfast.”

“Perhaps I will,” she said thoughtfully. “Will you be requesting waffles for this grand meal on the morrow?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I doubt Cook would care about my wishes. However, I know a great place here in Bath to get waffles.”

“What?” she questioned with excitement in her voice. “You want to travel forty minutes to Bath tomorrow morning in order to eat waffles?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head again. “I’ll eat coddled eggs or porridge or whatever Cook prepares for us for breakfast tomorrow. I want to eat the waffles now.”

“Now?” she asked dubiously. “But it’s lunchtime.”

“Who cares?” he said with a shrug. “There’s no law saying, ‘Thou shalt not eat waffles once the clock strikes noon’.”

She giggled and shook her head. “Only you would think of such a thing. I honestly doubt there are any laws regarding waffles.”

Benjamin leaned even closer to her, their faces barely an inch apart now. “You do, do you? And what would you do if I told you there was?”

“You mean besides laugh at the absurdity?”

He nodded. “Yes. Would you give me a kiss if such a law existed?”

She licked her lips. “I suppose,” she said quietly.

“As it happens, such a law does, or should I say did, exist,” Benjamin said with an easy smile. “During the medieval times in France, waffle vendors would actually wait outside churches on religious holidays and such to sell their waffles. As you can imagine, competition among the venders was fierce since little money was to be had among the lowest class at the time. With all the vendors out there competing with each other and trying to grab the attention of potential customers, chaos broke out. Vendors were fighting with each other about stealing customers or having a better location to the point it became a rather large problem and King Charles IX had to create a law dictating just how far apart waffle vendors were to be spaced.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Madison said, shaking her head in disbelief.

Benjamin shrugged. “I know. Now, about that kiss.”

She leaned forward to press her lips to his cheek and he pulled back to avoid it. “No,” he said, putting a finger on her puckered lips. “I want a real kiss and I want it when I choose.”

She looked at him curiously. “I wasn’t aware that that wasn’t a real kiss. I always assumed a kiss was a matter of puckering one’s lips, pressing them against something—preferably a body—and exerting pressure.”

“You’re correct,” he allowed. “But I want a kiss on the lips this time.”

She blinked, then said, “As long as you keep your lips shut during the kiss, I shall kiss you on the mouth at the time of your choosing.”

“Of course,” he said, trying not to laugh. “It usually works best that way anyway.”

She cocked her head a little and gave him an expressionless stare. “I meant—”

“I know what you meant, Madison,” he said softly. He had no desire to hear her recount the gruesome details of the sloppy kisses she’d shared with Robbie. He’d happily kiss her with a closed mouth for now and gracefully introduce her to the deeper, more passionate kisses later.

“Since you told me your secret, do I owe you one of mine?” she asked after a minute.

“Of course,” he said even though he’d have never asked her to share one in return.

“Mine is more of a confession really,” she said shyly.

His eyes went wide and he gave her the ducal stare he’d perfected that usually made people turn to icicles. “Do tell,” he drawled, trying not to crack a smile.

“I’ve only had waffles once, maybe twice.”

“Pity,” he said, dropping his head and shaking it in mock sadness. Or was that real sadness? He didn’t know. He did know, however, it was quite a shame to live on this earth nearly twenty three years and only have eaten waffles once, maybe twice. “We shall have to double that amount today.”

“You do know I was jesting when I said I was being starved, right?” she said with a wobbly smile.

“Yes. Believe it or not I do know a jest when I hear one.”

“All right,” she said uneasily. “I just wanted to make sure you knew.”

“I know.”

She looked flustered. “I cannot possibly eat two waffles for lunch,” she burst out.

He stared at her and tried to keep his lips from twitching. “I didn’t ask you to.”

“No. But you said, we were going to double the amount of waffles I’ve eaten,” she pointed out. “That would mean if I’ve eaten one previously, I’d have to eat two today.”

“And you will.”

“But I cannot possibly eat two at one meal,” she explained, exacerbated.

“And you won’t.”

“You mean—”

“I mean,” he broke in. “We’ll eat one now and we’ll eat one again after our other activity.”

“And what is our other activity?”

Grinning, he said, “I’m taking you to a bathhouse.”

Chapter 12

A meal never seemed so daunting. And that included the ones she’d pretended to eat on her wedding day.

Benjamin was pleasant company during the meal, if not a bit unnerving. For some reason she couldn’t understand he had the host set their two plates right next to each other, rather than across the table. Fortunately they were seated in a private room and didn’t have to endure the curious stares of the other patrons while they ate.

Many times before Madison had witnessed—and tried to play oblivious to—the actions between couples when they sat so close. She’d caught sight of intentional hand brushing, or shifting in chairs to be closer, or once when she’d dropped her napkin on the floor, and bent to pick it up, she’d seen a man’s boot on the floor with no foot in it. A quick glance to the right informed her where his foot had gone: under the lady’s skirt to caress her ankle with his toes.

She’d personally played the female role in this dinner dance, but only a few times, and always with the ungraceful Robbie. Actually, that wasn’t entirely fair. Robbie had been graceful, just not with her. She’d caught glimpses of him touching and caressing other women with much more skill and charm than he presented with her. When she’d confront him about it, he’d laugh and say she was jealous but had nothing to worry about since he was courting her, not them. Having spent so much time in the presence of gentlemen who only cared to compliment her beauty or some other superficial trait, she’d accept Robbie’s words and forget the incident.

It wasn’t that Robbie had told her he thought she was ugly but had a winning personality. No, it was that he’d never been one to talk incessantly about her looks, or her in general if she were being honest. That’s what kept her attracted to him. At first, it was like Brooke claimed; she had a tendency to act as a lifeline to those in need of saving. Robbie had definitely been in need of saving and with his handsome looks and his easy charm, a girlhood crush developed. The crush changed into something else after she’d tried to catch the notice of another, only to have the other man dismiss her with nasty remarks and unflattering ideas. Not that she’d heard him say these things herself, mind you. Not even the worst sort of man would speak that way in front of a female, even one he thought was a tart. No, she’d only heard a sugarcoated version, but that was enough to know she’d be best not to stray from Robbie.

And so she didn’t, even if he did. She’d often catch him entertaining other girls or hear stories about his exploits. It hurt, but he’d always soothe her with sweet words and remind her he was courting her and they’d marry one day. What a joke, she thought. He’d only said that to keep her on a string. And like the puppet she’d been, she’d stayed firmly attached. Too afraid to trust another. Too afraid to trust herself with another. She’d thought she’d seen a real shimmer of something good in the man who Robbie claimed was a womanizer. She had no idea a wolf was hiding under that sheep’s fur. The fear of finding another man who would view her as the equivalent of a challenging courtesan kept her safely with Robbie. At least he was toying with those girls and not her, she’d tell herself as she wept into her pillow at night. He promised her he’d marry her, not them. He was just having his bachelor fun and would settle down with her when he finished.

Mama, for her sweet southern charm learned straight from growing up in South Carolina, had been rather blunt on the subject when she’d spoken to Madison about Robbie. She’d tried to discourage the match in many ways over the five years, but the only argument that seemed to hold water was her belief he’d be unfaithful to her after they married. Naïve girl she’d been, she’d never considered the possibility before Mama mentioned it. A few days later she’d casually mentioned it to Robbie and he assured her that even though most men had affairs, he would not.

Now, sitting next to Benjamin, eating his favorite meal in the world: waffles and hot chocolate, she couldn’t help wonder how long it would be before he sought the company of another. Or if he’d already done so. She believed him when he said he hadn’t on their wedding night. But that was several days ago. There were many servants at Rockhurst, perhaps he’d been with a maid. She frowned. For some reason the thought of him sharing another woman’s bed hurt more than the confirmation that Robbie actually had. She shouldn’t let it, she told herself. She’d expected him to before they married and she’d practically given him her permission in the carriage on the way to Rockhurst.

She put her fork down. There was no way she was going to be able to eat now.

“You’re not worried about our bath, are you?” Benjamin asked, genuine concern stamped on his hard features.

She shook her head. “No. I’ve been before. I’m looking forward to going.”

“Excellent,” he said with a secret grin. “Eat up.”

“I’m quite full,” she said, pushing her plate away.

He frowned down at her plate. “You’ve taken three bites.”

“Yes, three very filling bites,” she said with a weak smile.

He put his fork down and looked at her curiously. “Is something not to your liking?”

“No,” she said hastily. “I’m just not as hungry as I thought.”

“Would you care to tell me what you’ve been thinking about?” he asked, picking his fork back up.

She shook her head. “No.” There was no use in denying she’d been thinking about
something
.

“All right,” he said quietly before picking up his cup of chocolate and taking a gulp.

She glanced at the space between them. With how close they were he could easily have “accidentally” brushed against her at least a dozen times already. Why hadn’t he? More importantly, why did she feel disappointed he hadn’t? He’d better not have lost interest in her already, she thought somewhat bitterly. If he was just another man that only saw her pretty face and dreamt only of lifting her skirts and nothing more, she was going to be mad. And, quite frankly, she didn’t know who she’d be madder at: him for thinking of her that way, or herself for once again being attracted to the scoundrel. There was no denying it, she was definitely attracted to him. And that wasn’t necessarily a welcomed discovery, either.

“Ready?” he asked, standing from the table.

She nodded. “As ready as I can be.”

“Good. We’ll walk to the bathhouse, it’s just down the street,” he said, offering her his arm.

She took his arm and together they walked down to one of the most upscale bathhouses in Bath. The common room that was used as a waiting area had plain white walls and grey slate flooring. Madison found a seat in a plush red velvet chair and waited while Benjamin walked up to the lady behind the counter to make their arrangements. She’d been to a bathhouse only once before and enjoyed the experience greatly. The warm water and heated rooms created a relaxing atmosphere that she was certain she’d need.

She needed to relax and sort out her feelings for Benjamin. It would be best for her to keep him at arm’s length where neither would get hurt. Not that she thought he’d be too badly hurt in all this, but she knew she’d been hurt before and knew it was possible again.

“They’re ready for us,” Benjamin said with a grin that sent queer sensations through her body.

She got up from her chair and together they followed the attendant down the hall. The hall was long and had five giant wooden doors that lined both sides of the hallway. At the very end there was one final door directly at the end of the hall. The attendant opened the door, and Benjamin stood back and ushered her inside. She walked in and looked down at the bath. It looked the same as the one she’d seen before. As if a giant hole had been dug into the floor and decorated with tiles of different colors and shapes then the whole thing filled with steaming hot water. One end had a bit of a slope and even a handrail next to it that made it easier to step in. The only thing different was the size of the tub. It was gigantic. Almost like it wasn’t meant to be used alone.

She spun around to see Benjamin’s face right behind her. His face was split in two by a grin that rivaled the one he wore on their wedding day. She swallowed. He intended to share her bath with her. She looked around for the attendant.

“She’s gone,” Benjamin said, causing Madison’s eyes to meet his. “I’ve already dismissed her. If you need help with your gown, I’ll do it.”

She swallowed again and nodded. “A—all right.”

“Why don’t you turn around,” he murmured.

Her palms started feeling clammy and she hastily wiped them on her skirts as she turned around to give him better access to the back of her gown. One by one, she could feel him undoing the row of buttons that went down the back of her gown. When he’d undone the last button, which happened to be positioned just above her waist, he slipped his curved fingertips under the edges of the pale green fabric and ran his hands along the edge up to the shoulder caps, searing her skin through her chemise as he went. Once he reached the sleeves, his hold on the fabric tightened and with gentle ease, he slipped the caps off her shoulders and held onto them as her gown slid down her body.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, making her body tense. He brought his fingers up to trace her shoulder blade. “It was just a compliment, Madison, nothing more.”

She nodded tersely and closed her eyes. She was nothing but a pretty face to him, and the confirmation stung. “Thank you,” she said quietly and waited for him to remove her chemise like she knew he would.

Benjamin let his fingers lightly skim her back and the flare of her hips before giving her waist a light squeeze. “Could you lift your foot?” he murmured in her ear before coming to sink to the haunches in front of her.

Her blood was pumping through her body like she’d never known before and had no idea how her body cooperated with his request, but somehow she found herself raising her foot a few inches off the floor. Benjamin’s hand took hold of her ankle, and he pushed her slipper off. His other hand came to settle on her other ankle and without being prompted, she lifted her foot and allowed him to slip off her other slipper.

His hands stayed on her ankles for a moment before he slid them up her calves, past her knees and to the top of her stockings, leaving a hot trail in their wake. She could feel his stare piercing her as he turned his head to look up at her while his thumbs tenderly caressed the skin above the top of her stockings.

He took his right hand from her left leg and used it to bend her right knee and bring her foot to rest on his thigh. She watched in stunned silence as he lowered his head and placed a searing kiss on the inside of her right thigh before using both hands to unroll her stocking.

His movements were slow as he peeled off her stocking. He used his thumbs and forefingers to pull her stockings down and trailed his other fingers along the skin that was newly exposed. His big hand lifted the foot that was still resting on his thigh and gave it a squeeze before lowering it to the cold tile. With the same slow and patient movements, he silently removed her other stocking before standing up to face her.

“Why don’t you get in,” he said hoarsely. “I’ll join you in a moment.”

“Am I allowed to wear my chemise?” she asked, uncertain.

“I’d recommend that you do,” he said raggedly, turning away.

She nodded her understanding, though she didn’t understand at all. Last time she’d come, she hadn’t worn anything in the water. Nobody told her it was recommended she keep her chemise on.

The water was just as warm as she remembered. She took a seat toward the middle of the slope. Her position was perfect in her opinion. She was far enough in the water she could lie down completely and be submerged in water up to the top of her chest and her face stayed above water with only her hair getting a little damp.

She heard the water next to her splash when Benjamin’s feet stepped in. She turned her head to look at him and grinned when she saw he was once again wearing his too tight drawers. “You wore your drawers,” she said laughingly. “I thought they were uncomfortable.”

“They are,” he grumbled. “But women wear tight corsets in an effort to impress men, and I’m wearing these to please you.”

She laughed. “You’re absurd. Just take them off. Nobody’s here to see but me.”

“Exactly, and you’re the one I don’t want to see,” he teased, lying down next to her.

“Oh, please. I assure you, the mystery you contain in there does not hold my interest the way you think it ought,” she said bluntly.

“You speak as if you have vast knowledge of men’s body parts,” he mused aloud, reaching over and taking her hand into his.

“I’ve seen one before,” she blurted out as he interlaced their fingers.

He scoffed. “Yes, but that was a little boy’s. There’s a difference.”

“Fine, suit yourself,” she said with a shrug. “But if you have a permanent red line that circles your waist because you’re too stubborn about being mysterious and all that nonsense, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”

“’Tis a brand I’ll wear with honor if it wins your heart,” he said cryptically.

She shook her head. Men. They were such complex creatures it was really a wonder the human race had survived this long. “You’re cracked.”

“I know.”

“How long do we have in the bath?” she asked after a minute of silence.

“As long as we want, Duchess,” he said with a grin. He broke their hand hold and started to get up. “Care to join me on the other end?”

She bought her head up to look down to the end of the bath. “It looks rather deep.”

“It is,” he confirmed, reaching his hand down to help her up. “Probably too deep for me to touch and still have my neck above water.”

“But you’re tall,” she reasoned. Surely it wouldn’t be
that
deep, would it?

“Most aren’t as tall as I am, and some rent this specific room to do some light swimming.”

“Oh,” she said, gaining her feet and walking further into the bath with him. “You plan to teach me breaststroke now, don’t you.”

“If you want, I can. But I thought we’d just relax against the side or something of that nature,” he said, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her closer.