Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
Alice woke to the unfamiliar sensation of something warm at her back, and steel banded across her chest. When she shuffled, trying to free herself from the suffocating presence, the steel band tightened, drawing her more firmly against it, and she stiffened.
Oh.
Frederick?
For a long moment, she lay still, trying to process the sensations. She felt sore between her legs, but there was a pleasant heaviness to her limbs. Her leg ached a little, but no more than normal.
She had finally consummated her marriage with her husband. And said husband, instead of retiring to his own chambers when they’d finished, had chosen to stay with her.
She attempted to sort through her feelings about this turn of events. When she’d agreed to let him lie with her, she had justified it by telling herself it did not mean she would forgive him. But despite everything, something had changed between them.
Did physical intimacy always beget such tenderness?
She rolled over in his arms to see his sleeping face inches from hers on the pillow.
His eyelashes fanned across his cheek, and she traced the lines of his face, softened by sleep.
He certainly was a handsome man. And yesterday, he had confessed to having no lovers or mistresses.
No one but her in his life after he had sworn vows to that effect.
The thought brought a wave of relief with it, which she told herself was foolish. She had never asked for his affection. Certainly never craved it.
And yet now…
How had things shifted so dramatically in such a short space of time?
His eyelids fluttered, and drowsy blue orbs met hers. He blinked a few times, and the arm that now curved around her back, tightened, drawing her closer to him. “Good morning…” he croaked. “At least, I presume it is still morning.”
She started to rise, to seek the clock that ticked on the mantelpiece, but he held her back down.
“Don’t,” he rasped, pressing a sleepy kiss to her cheek. “You’ll ruin the moment.”
“The… moment?”
“Waking with you in my arms.”
“Why did you stay?”
“Did you want me to leave?”
“I’m not accustomed to sharing my bed.”
He gave a smug smile and closed his eyes again. “You slept well enough.”
That was no doubt thanks to the activities that had preceded her sleep, and nothing to do with the large, warm man beside her.
“What makes you think you have the right to stay in my bed?” she demanded. “I allowed you certain privileges yesterday, but that doesn’t mean we can go around pretending we are madly in love.”
“Not madly in love,” he murmured, “but you can hardly deny that last night changed nothing. I’ve seen you in the throes of pleasure.
I granted you liberties with my body I have offered no other woman, and you granted the same to me.
We are forever changed. Our marriage is legitimate.
” He kissed her forehead, his mouth soft and warm. “And you don’t hate me, darling.”
She scowled, although something about the kiss to her forehead melted her insides. “I can try.”
“You can,” he agreed, humor sparking in his eyes. “And if you succeed, despite my best efforts, then be sure to let me know.”
Guilt swamped the warmth in her chest. “Do you think we’re making a terrible mistake?”
“In what way?”
If she allowed herself to be with him, did that mean she was betraying her parents? She ought to hate him. Punish him until the end of time. She ought to hold fast to her ideals.
He had blown those ideals into the water.
“A moment,” he murmured, and brought his forehead to rest against hers. “Let me gather my thoughts. There are other things I would rather do to you, and I need to convince my body that now is not the time.”
Despite herself, the thought of those other things made her shiver.
But if she engaged in them with him, she risked opening her heart still further.
“You want to hate me, because you think by keeping your hatred alive, you will be keeping your parents alive.” He spoke the words so softly, she almost didn’t catch them, but when she did, they plunged her into ice water.
That is precisely what she had been doing. What she had thought.
“But tell me something, Alice, and be honest with me, if you can. I know I’m not the person you’d want to speak to about this, but I feel about it almost as strongly as you.” He tucked a strand of tangled hair behind her ear. “What do you think your parents would want for you?”
Her eyes shot open. “Pardon?”
“Consider it,” he said, his words lulling her into a strange sense of calm.
“Perhaps I am not the man they would have chosen for you.
But I have offered you a life that you would not otherwise have had, even if it is my fault you are in this position.
I take the blame, Alice. I have been feeling it for years.
And I accept that I am, and shall forever be, in the wrong. But here we are.
“Would your parents truly want you to wage war against me for the rest of your life? Never have the chance to do all the things other ladies get to do? I am prepared to offer you everything, including myself. You have every part of me to wreck as you wish, but will you truly do that at the sacrifice of your own happiness? Wouldn’t they rather you found joy wherever you could, even if it is with me?
I’m not asking you to love me.” He paused, and she couldn’t read the expression on his face.
“But don’t feel as though you did something wrong by lying with your husband. ”
She opened her mouth to tell him that he was wrong, but then she thought back to her remaining memories of her parents.
They had always, before everything, wanted what was best for her.
Her father flaunted convention by letting her ride her horse across the estate with no chaperone.
She frequently went on walks unattended.
Her mother would brush her hair for her, even when she grew into a young woman, because when she did so—one hundred brushes—they would talk about the books they had both read.
Alice had told her that one day she dreamed of marrying a man who would love her beyond reason, and her mother had met her gaze in the mirror and told her, “Find a man who loves you with reason, my darling. That is the best path to happiness.”
Would her mother have recommended she marry Frederick? Certainly, she had thought it unreasonable at the time—but now, reflecting on it, she saw how reason had been the only thing dictating his actions.
Perhaps her family would not have recommended she marry him. But now she had, what would they want for her now?
It felt wrong to be contented as she lay in his arms, but it had been so long since she had felt contented in such a bone-deep way.
“I regret what happened that night more than you could ever know,” he muttered, brushing his knuckles over her cheekbones.
“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.
That was not the man I wanted to be. One careless action on my part, and the worst thing imaginable occurred.
I will spend the rest of my life paying for it.
If I could go back in time and change it, I would. ”
She saw the regret in his eyes and knew then the way she had never truly let herself believe that he truly cared. He was hurting almost as much as she was.
So she nodded. “I know,” she murmured, and let herself melt into him a little more.
Forgiveness wasn’t the act of a moment but a series of small decisions that collided in an avalanche.
Today, she hadn’t forgiven him. Tomorrow, she might not have done, either.
But so long as he continued to want to put things right, she would open her heart to the idea of one day moving past the resentment she held toward him.
One day at a time. One small moment at a time.
His hand slid to her bottom, squeezing it, but she wriggled free, and he immediately stopped. “I’m too sore for that,” she giggled softly. “Maybe later.”
He nodded immediately. “I should probably begin my day, too,” he chuckled, and stretched as he rolled out of bed.
Alice made no pretense to herself that she was not watching his naked body as he strolled to where he had tossed his clothes the night before.
Then he nodded at the dresser she had ordered the servants to put between their rooms. “May I?”
She swallowed hard, then nodded. “Yes.”
“Thank you.” He bowed to her, oddly noble considering his nakedness, and moved the dresser without any seeming difficulty.
When he disappeared into his bedchamber, Alice lay back on the pillows and stared at the ceiling. Without meaning to, her lips curved into a smile.
She had finally experienced what it was to be with a man.
And it had been good. More than good. Wonderful.
Incredible. He had anticipated her needs before she even knew what they were, and he had allowed her to take control even when she had been able to see him straining to break free.
No matter what he had wanted, he had not abused her trust.
That counted for something.
She couldn’t wait to do it again, sooner rather than later.
Frederick had just settled in his study when the butler knocked. He glanced up at the man standing in the doorway. “Well?”
“Her Grace has called for her horse to be brought around and wondered if you might be interested in riding out with her today.” The butler paused, as though doubting her ability to ride, but settled back on his heels, his face impassive.
Frederick didn’t so much as hesitate. “Tell her I shall be along shortly, and that it would be my pleasure to ride with her.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
He pushed the letter he was partway through writing to one side, smearing ink everywhere, and hurried upstairs to change.
This was the first time she had ever requested his company.
Every other time they’d spent time together, it had been because he had initiated it, or their circumstances had meant they were required to be in the same space.