Chapter 45
A single branch of candles atop the mantel gave off a warm, soft glow, not reaching the corners of the large bedchamber, leaving them in deep shadow.
A fire burned sluggishly, the glowing embers adding to the intimacy.
There was the occasional exploding orange spark to break the silence.
Rain had begun to fall but the sound was muted by the thick golden velvet draperies covering the windows.
A perfect night. His wedding night.
Please grant me fortitude.
Was fortitude what he really needed? Graham didn’t know. He walked to his bride who looked ready to bolt, understood perfectly, smiled at her. “Hello, Wife. I didn’t tell you my brother-in-law, Donner, whispered to me that your lovely smile warmed his innards.”
“You made that up. Your bathrobe looks very soft. Your feet are bare.”
She’d taken in the whole of him in under a half second, amazing.
Well, he supposed he’d done the same. He tried not to stare at her glorious hair, all loose and wavy, a thick tress over her shoulder, falling over her breast. And that nightgown.
He swallowed, got hold of himself. “Oh no, I believe Donner is smitten with you. My father is close to smitten, but not yet quite there yet. I will give you one week when we settle in at King’s Head to have him so charmed he’ll offer you his crisp bacon.
As for Eugenie, she is nice enough to me, but I do wonder what she really thinks.
Sometimes I see her staring at me when she doesn’t think I noticed.
As for you, she’ll have to love you, you’ll give her no choice at all. ”
Cam still looked ready to bolt. He didn’t move, said easily, “We’ll explore King’s Head, a new adventure for both of us since I still have no memory of it. Thank you for the compliment, the bathrobe is a wedding gift. Do you also like my bare feet?”
“Yes.” She leaned closer, maybe six inches closer, more at ease now since he was speaking and not attacking her like that moron Teddy Jewel, or that fortune-hunting pork-brained Pilcher Gayson.
She said as she considered kissing his ear, “Papa said he would come visit us in a couple of months. We will return for Eliza’s wedding in October. Do you like her fiancée, Winstead?”
She nipped his earlobe, and he grinned down at her.
“I like that. Now, Towbridge is a nice man. He told me about his father’s recent marriage to a widow with six young children.
He told me he’d worried about his father’s health since his mother’s death and now this miracle—he said his father wrote to tell him he’s hale as a stoat.
Winstead nearly bubbled over, so pleased he was rubbing his hands together.
He said the children are loud and boisterous and the house is once again alive with noise and laughter.
He knew Eliza would love the children, she was so giving and loving. ”
Cam couldn’t hold it in, out spurted a laugh.
“About Eliza loving all those children—it is something I would have to see for myself. As for her new mother-in-law, I doubt they’ll become best friends.
With six children, though, I’ll wager her future mama-is-law is a strong, resolute woman.
” She leaned up, bit his other earlobe. “Oh dear, I suppose I’m a small person. ”
Cam was suddenly aware his hands were now on her waist, gently kneading her through her nightgown, pressing in. It felt quite nice, so long as they kept talking and his hands stayed where they were.
Even though Graham was in a bad way, he managed to say, “Perhaps marriage will make her kinder. Mayhap Winstead will make her glow and smile.”
“Perhaps so.” But she doubted it. So far his love hadn’t changed her at all. His hands were moving lower.
She held her breath, waiting, scared, excited.
Graham knew if he pulled her against him, like two books on a shelf, she’d feel every bit of him.
Did she know how men were fashioned? Did she know what her closeness did to him?
Her little nips on his ears? He thought of his first time with Maggie.
He’d been fifteen and she an ancient twenty.
She was the local blacksmith’s daughter, and she’d called him a stallion and kissed him all over.
A stallion? He’d preened and strutted around all the children who had no idea what had happened, but Ryder always knew everything.
Ryder had taken him into his study, closed and locked the door, and told him he was never again to be intimate with a local girl.
Ever. And he’d explained the world to him and how it had to work to keep things in balance.
And what did that mean? It meant, Ryder told him, that young men were idiots to assuage their lust on young women since pregnancy was always more than a possibility and then where would he be?
Where would she be? Graham remembered he’d paled and continued pale until he was told she wasn’t pregnant.
When he was sixteen Ryder had taken him to London twice a month to visit a very discreet lady who had taught him everything he could possibly imagine.
Time to put Jayne’s lessons into practice.
Now things were different. He was married. Pregnancy was something devoutly wished for. He leaned down, not far at all, nuzzled her neck, lightly ran his tongue over her skin, whispered against her temple, “Let’s talk about how we’re going to approach the establishment of our theorem.”
She nodded. “I like talk, Graham, well, and I like to kiss you and feel your hands around my waist, except your hands are lower now and that concerns me.”
“Please don’t be concerned. I want only to give you pleasure and, Cam, there’s so much more. Can you trust me?”
“Of course, well—yes, I must trust you or—well, I suppose I must if things are to proceed, sort of like trains running straight on tracks to reach their destination.”
“Just so.” He smiled at her, kissed the end of her nose and took her hand.
It wasn’t long before she was lying on her back in bed, all warm as her breakfast toast. She watched Graham stir the embers, watched him turn and walk to her, saying nothing.
He removed his bathrobe and stood silently, letting her look her fill at him.
It was close, but he kept motionless, his arms at his sides. He didn’t hold his breath.
Her voice came out of her mouth with a bit of a croak. “I love you, Graham, I truly do, but seeing you without your clothes, it’s rather alarming. You are even more different from me than I could have imagined.”
Her eyes had moved in less than a half second from his face downward.
He knew what she was seeing and devoutly prayed she wouldn’t run screaming from the bedchamber.
Finally, after an eon it seemed to him, she said, licking her lips, which made him want to leap on her, “Oh goodness, Graham, you said we were two halves of a whole. I have to say your half is amazing but still, rather unexpected, and alarming.” She licked her lips again and his jumping on her was close—except he wasn’t a boy, he had fortitude, it was the key.
He still didn’t move, he waited, waited.
“In general,” she said, her eyes still on his sex, “I know in a general sort of way what you will do with your half, which is amazing, as I said, but I have to say further that seeing the reality of it is alarming. That man part of you is quite large. I’m sorry, Graham, but I cannot see how it could possibly work,” and he watched her again run her tongue over her lower lip for a third time and he nearly expired.
“Don’t be alarmed, everything will work just fine. Perhaps I could show you, Cam.” Was that his voice, all low and nearly a croak?
Still he didn’t move, and again, waited, waited.
“All right, Graham. I suppose you actually showing me how this all works is the best way forward and I know we must move forward since we’re married and all. But it’s difficult, Graham, I mean, I’m looking at you and imagining, and it’s very worrying.”
But then in the next second she opened her arms to him. He nearly shouted with lust and relief, a heady brew.
When he pulled her nightgown over her head and tossed it to a chair, she gulped, crossed her arms over her chest. “Graham, I don’t suppose we could simply kiss all night. I really like that. It’s quite invigorating.”
“Yes, we will kiss, then we will explore even more activities you’ll find even more invigorating.
” He pulled her arms away and gathered her against him.
The feel of her, her breasts, her flesh, so soft and warm, it would break a saint.
She wanted kisses? He could do that. He remembered Jayne’s advice: Talk, Graham, be amusing, do not grunt, do not stick your tongue down her throat, never rush her on pain of death—yours.
And so he leaned down and said, “Dearest one, open your mouth, just a little bit.”
She did and every flower in the world bloomed. “Oh my,” she whispered into his mouth. “Your tongue—I never thought of that. It feels really quite lovely. I feel the strangest things.”
“Strange? Where exactly, sweetheart?” He touched his tongue to hers again, stroked and kissed.
“My stomach, well, no, lower, and it’s really quite delicious.”
Jayne had taught him the importance of control, but he nearly went over the cliff. Ladies first, Alex, always ladies first. Never be a pig.
He kissed her breasts and when she moaned, he believed it the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard in his life.
He continued down the beautiful length of her, rested his cheek against her belly.
His hands kept going. She squeaked, tried to push him away.
Then, from one moment to the next, she was pulling on his hair to bring him closer.
“Graham, that is wonderful, truly, but there’s more, I know there has to be. Please show me.”
He was supposed to talk? Be amusing? How could he even speak when his heart was near pounding out of his chest?
“Yes,” he said, and went lower—the taste of her, the feel of her, he didn’t know if he could bear it, but he knew he had to give her pleasure first because he would hurt her, no way around that.
He whispered against her, “No, Cam, don’t try to pull away from me.
Trust me. This is the way things are done.
It’s very important to me that you enjoy this.
It’s all about your pleasure. That’s right, just relax and let me—” She stilled.
He felt her surprise then her eagerness and he gloried in it.
When she stiffened and screamed, he quickly closed his hand over her mouth and came into her.