Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“I do not understand. It is my duty—”
I stopped her with a shake of my head. “I do not wish for you to lay with me as a duty. I want for you to desire it as well. I want you to come to me of your own free will, not because you feel it is a duty you must perform.”
Her eyes glimmered in the low firelight. “Will I not have failed you, then?”
“No,” I responded with a firm shake of my head. “It is what I wish for. I only planned on celebrating our union by spending time with you this evening. Conversing. Reading to you a little. It is my greatest joy to watch you smile, to hear your laughter. To perhaps hold your hand or stroke your cheek. For now, that is enough.”
“And when it is not?” she asked, her question bold despite the worry lingering in her gaze.
“I pray you will want more as much as I do. But I will not force you, my wife. You are safe.”
Her shoulders relaxed, the anxiety leaching from her eyes.
“Will you come with me and sit in my chamber? Allow me to read to you and let us enjoy the warmth of our shared company?”
“Yes.”
I stood and offered my hand, and she allowed me to tug her from her chair. She followed me to my chamber, and I indicated the chair by the fire as I prepared fresh glasses. “Sit.”
“But where will you sit?”
“I can sit on the footstool.”
“No, you must sit in your chair. It is only proper. I am much smaller, and the footstool will be fine for me,” she stated and sat down, tucking her night rail around her.
I sat with a frown, then stood, crossed the room, pulled the coverlet from the bed, and sat down again. I patted my lap. “Sit with me, my wife.”
Her eyes widened.
“This chair is large enough for two. The covering will keep you warm. I would enjoy having you close.”
She hesitated, and I held out my hand again, waiting for her to take it. She did, and I pulled her to my lap, wrapping the coverlet around her. She was stiff and uncertain, but I picked up the book I had selected. It was one I had seen her peruse more than once, so I knew it was a favorite of hers.
“Shall I read?”
“Please,” she murmured.
I handed her the sherry, took a sip of brandy, and opened the book. I began to read, and after a few moments, I felt her relax, her body molding to mine as I kept my voice low and soothing. When her glass of sherry was empty, I slipped it from her hand, placing it on the table. I gently cupped her head, tucking it to my shoulder and pressing a lingering kiss to her thick hair. “You smell so delightful,” I murmured. “Lilacs.”
“I make the scent myself,” she replied, her voice low and sweet. “The lilac trees were abundant around Cliffwood. They grew wild everywhere, and no one cared if I picked them. It was something my mother taught me.”
“I like it.”
“I like this,” she murmured.
She nestled into me, as if seeking my warmth. I adjusted my body, leaning back slightly so I could take more of her slight weight. I liked how she felt on my lap. Small and delicate. Needful of care. Seeking my touch. Unable to resist, I ran my hand over her tresses as I continued to read. She sighed in contentment, and I glanced down, seeing her eyes shut and a smile playing on her lips. She was fully relaxed, and I knew she would be asleep within moments. Resting in my arms as she ought to this night. Surrounded by me. Safe and peaceful.
That was the way I planned on her staying for the rest of our lives.
CHAPTER 13
MADELEINE
Iwoke the next morning, tucked into the bed of my new chamber. The room was lovely, facing the front garden, but days previous, I’d had a glimpse of the view from Alexander’s window. It was spectacular, looking out over lush fields and trees as far as my eyes could see. The scope of beauty here took my breath away. Last night, I had asked him if he ever thought to leave the heavy draperies open and gaze at the stars or watch the sunrise. He had studied me for a moment before shaking his head.
“I confess, I have not. Perhaps it is something we could do together.”
I had tried not to blush at his words. It was subtle, but I heard the innuendo behind his utterance. Once we laid together, I would be in his chamber—in his bed. The view would be mine.
And I would be his.
His statement he was not rushing our relations had been both a blessing and a curse. I was sheltered and innocent, although I saw the coupling of animals often in the barn. Still, I was not innocent enough to think that Alexander was without a past. He was too handsome and virile not to have had many interludes. I worried he would be bored with me and lose interest quickly at my lack of knowledge.