Chapter Eleven
David walked inside his former wife’s room, lighting a candle. It was nearly past midnight, and he couldn’t say what had brought him here. It might have been guilt or perhaps the need to let go.
In six years, he’d changed nothing about this room. Nothing, save the linens that she’d slept upon in her last hours. The mattress was bare, the pillows stripped of their coverings.
The entire room was cold, like a graveyard.
He lit another candle, then the lamp beside the bed. The flare of golden light spilled over the barren mattress, and he went to sit upon it. A chill swept over him, as if her ghost had laid a hand upon his spine. He studied the room, and the familiar emptiness closed in.
“I can’t keep holding on to the past,” he told Katherine. “Amelia doesn’t deserve this. She should have a true husband.”
His wife’s ghost didn’t answer. Though he’d often imagined what she’d say, this time, there was silence. He was left to wonder about this new marriage. He’d agreed to wed Amelia because he hadn’t wanted her to suffer from a scandal that wasn’t her fault.
But she was hurting in this marriage. It wasn’t at all fair to Amelia, being trapped like this. She was trying to make the best of her situation, but both the servants and Christine were trying her patience.
As for himself, he knew he wasn’t much of a husband. Though he knew how to pleasure her in bed, and he enjoyed touching her, he knew she wanted more.
David rose from the bed, the taint of sickness still lingering in the air. A wooden wardrobe stood at the far end of the room, and he opened it. Inside were several of Katherine’s gowns. The colors were still bright, though a stale odor lingered.
A choking sensation caught in his throat, and suddenly he couldn’t bear to look at them anymore.
He spied an empty trunk and dragged it across to the wardrobe.
One by one, he started gathering up Katherine’s old gowns and bonnets.
It burned like acid in his heart as he stuffed them into the trunk, clearing out the space.
But he needed to be rid of the memories.
Through the next hour he worked, emptying the dressers until they, too, were bare. The trunk was stuffed to overflowing, but at least he’d managed to put away her belongings. After six years, it should have been done long ago.
A dull ache centered inside, but he felt good about what he’d done. He needed to stop feeling guilty about the choices he’d made. Katherine wouldn’t want him to sacrifice the rest of his life. Not when he still needed an heir.
He left the trunk in the middle of the room and extinguished the lamp and candles, one by one. When he stood in darkness, he paused a moment, as if waiting to hear her voice.
But there was nothing.
He returned to the hallway, closing the door behind him.
For a long time he stood there, feeling the weight of Katherine’s loss.
But instead of the numbing grief, it was almost a sense of relief.
She was gone from his life and would not return.
Everything was changing, and he had no choice but to let go.
He walked toward Amelia’s room instinctively, without really knowing why.
She’d wanted him to kiss her. And she wanted to be treated like a wife.
All he had to do was open the door and discard his clothing, slipping inside her bed.
He could spend the night touching her, taking comfort in her arms. Right now, he needed to embrace her, to hold fast to a bright spirit that he was slowly suffocating in this house.
His hand paused upon the doorknob, while he tried to piece together what he would say. But there were no words to express his needs.
“Papa?” came the voice of a young girl from behind him. “I couldn’t sleep.”
He pushed back the ball of frustration and turned to face his daughter. Christine was standing barefoot in her nightgown, and she looked as lonely as he felt.
A moment later, she flew to him, hugging him hard. “I’m glad you’re home,” she whispered. “I missed you so much.”
He embraced her in the hallway. “I missed you, too. Now you should go to bed.”
“Will you walk back with me? It’s very dark,” she said.
“Of course.” He returned to Katherine’s room for a candle and lit it, before joining Christine.
They walked together for a time, his daughter’s hand in his. When he glanced at her, he realized that in seven short years, she might be married. The thought was strange to imagine, but he was glad that Amelia was here to help Christine. She would make a good stepmother for his daughter.
David opened the door to the nursery and his daughter climbed back into bed. “Go to sleep,” he bade her. After he left her room, he went to seek out his wife.
The doorknob turned easily as he entered Amelia’s bedchamber. She was sleeping in a linen nightdress, and the covers were tangled against her warm body. David removed his clothing and slipped in beside her.
“Did you need something?” she whispered sleepily.
“Yes.” He needed her. He needed to drown himself in a physical release that would eradicate the memories that kept intruding. He didn’t ask permission, but began touching her, using his mouth and hands to arouse her.
Amelia didn’t know what had prompted him to visit her, but she welcomed her husband. The scent of the earl’s skin was entrancing, of soap and warm male. Gently, she drew an arm around his torso, pulling him closer.
Although there was a sudden tension in his body, he didn’t move or speak.
Instead, he touched her hair, holding her against him.
She kissed his ribs, moving beneath the covers to embrace him.
David pushed up her nightdress, and she helped him pull it off.
Her cool skin came into contact with his body, and it was shocking to feel his muscled chest against her breasts.
Her leg touched his, and her husband answered the unspoken question when he traced a path down her bare spine to rest upon her bottom. A shudder rocked through her, a yearning to touch and to be touched. She was afraid to move, uncertain of what to do now.
But David pulled her atop him, and she was taken aback by the sensation of his naked body beneath hers. His hands moved over her hair, down to her bare shoulders.
Gently, he eased her legs apart until she was straddling him. His thick erection pressed against her stomach, and she wondered if he wanted her to take command.
“Kiss me,” he ordered.
Amelia raised herself higher, in order to reach his mouth, and the act nestled his erection against her intimate opening.
She was already wet between her legs, and his hands fixed upon her waist, holding her captive. Obeying him, she leaned down to kiss him. Her hair fell across her shoulders, tickling her bare skin.
David’s mouth claimed hers, his tongue sliding within.
The motion of his tongue entering and withdrawing was echoed below when he pressed her against his hard flesh.
Her breathing grew hitched when his hands moved to the curve of her breasts.
He teased her nipples, caressing the hard nubs with his thumbs.
The sensation shot a bolt of heat between her legs. As he explored the tips, she found herself moving against the thick pressure nudging at her entrance. She was overwhelmed by all the sensations, hardly able to claim a breath.
And the more he stroked her nipples, rubbing himself against her, the more she needed him. “I want you inside me,” she whispered, trying to guide him.
“Not yet.” He pressed her onto her back, caressing her hips. Amelia opened her legs wider, waiting for him, but he kissed her bare stomach, cupping her bottom with his hands.
Why was he moving lower? She couldn’t understand until she felt the warmth of his breath against her opening.
“David, you don’t have to—” Amelia began, but he cut off her words when he kissed her intimately. He explored her folds and crevices with his mouth and tongue, and the sensations overwhelmed her.
Dear God.
She fisted the sheets, her hips arching as he feasted upon her.
His wicked tongue stroked her, and she was so close to the edge, she was trembling.
It was a storm of reckless need, gathering intensity.
She was aching for him, when suddenly, her body seized up with a thousand tremors.
It was like a veil of ecstasy shimmering over every part of her skin.
Just as the sensations tightened into a climax, he filled her with his shaft.
She gasped as he thrust inside. Over and over he penetrated, while his erection was rigid with need.
He tormented her, making love to her while she welcomed his intrusion.
His hand moved between them, and when he pressed the fold of flesh above her entrance, the echo of the earlier shimmering sensation returned.
“David,” she whispered, unable to believe what she was feeling. Her body was now pliant to his thrusts, and she gripped his hips, trying to increase the speed.
Instead, he slowed down, circling her flesh with his thumb. Amelia found herself pressing back and squeezing him deep inside.
“Do that again,” he commanded, and when she did, she heard him inhale audibly. “Yes. Just like that.”
She was starting to feel the same delicious response that he’d conjured within her. It was a slow burn, a tidal pull of desire rushing over her. And she started to shake, straining for more of this.
A shudder rocked through her without warning, and she moaned, her nails digging into his backside as he brought her over the edge a second time. In answer to her release, he increased the pace of his thrusting, and she squeezed him harder, her body throbbing with a dark ache.
“I can’t last much longer against this,” he gritted out, and she wrapped both legs around his waist, trying to draw him closer.