Chapter 5 #4
She chewed her bottom lip before answering hesitantly, “It’s just that I’ve never been courted before, Mr. Thorn—Adam. It’s…well, it’s what every girl dreams about…a proper courting, I mean.”
Adam was momentarily stumped. He had no idea what she was trying to say.
“A proper courting?”
Nodding, she glanced up at him through lashes he imagined would feel like the soft flutter of feathers upon his skin.
“There’s no need for us to rush, is there, Adam? You seem in such a hurry, yet from what I know, a proper courting takes time. A man must woo a woman gently, am I not right? At least that is how I always imagined it would be…”
Realization swamped him as she flushed prettily, and he wanted to throw back his head and laugh. Yet he restrained himself, not wanting her to think he was making light of her girlish fantasies.
So this timid beauty was a romantic at heart!
Then his instincts about a passionate nature simmering beneath her bashful exterior must also be right.
No doubt she had read plenty of sentimental stories which had filled her head with all sorts of notions about how a man should court a woman.
Well, he would gladly oblige her, and in ways that before long would send her scurrying into his arms.
“We have time, my love,” he murmured, reaching up to stroke her hair. It was soft to his touch and smooth, like silk. It wasn’t difficult to imagine threading his fingers through its honeyed loveliness, or how it might look spread out upon a pillow.
“Oh, I’m so glad, Adam. I’m sure that after a few months—”
“Months?” he queried sharply, his hand falling still as he met her astonished gaze. He hadn’t said anything about waiting a few months.
“I…I think it would be best,” she said in a rush, her expression clouding.
“I’ve only just returned and…well, I know so little about my home.
I’m sure my father would have wanted me to be comfortable with my surroundings and my new duties as the mistress of Briarwood before I gave any thought to—to marriage… ”
Adam pondered her nervous explanation, deciding it was best to humor her. God help him, it looked as if she might cry if he so much as shook his head. That was the last thing he wanted. A woman’s tears always left him at a total loss.
He had no intention of waiting that long to marry her, but he doubted he’d have to.
He imagined that her excuses merely masked fears about marriage, and about the intimacy between husband and wife, which any innocent young woman would harbor.
Yet he knew very well how to allay her concerns.
It would be a pleasurable task indeed, awakening her to the desire lying dormant within her, while preserving her innocence for the night when he could call her lawfully his.
He doubted she would want to wait long after she tasted passion.
“We’ll take as much time as you need,” he promised, smiling to himself when she seemed pleased with his response.
“There’s just one more thing, Adam.”
“Yes?”
“Could we keep our courting a secret? Just between you and me…at least until it’s time to announce the betrothal? I don’t think it would be proper, considering your bedroom is only a few doors from mine.” She paused, coughing delicately. “You understand, I’m sure. My reputation…”
Adam hadn’t expected this request, but again, he decided to humor her. What harm was there anyway? Probably another girlish fancy, a secretive courting replete with stolen kisses and furtive glances. What the hell, he had her consent, which was all that mattered. He would play her virgin’s game.
“Done,” he answered, noting a flicker of relief cross her face, which transposed quickly into a becoming, albeit shy smile.
Mesmerized by the ripe, red fullness of her lips and thinking there would be no harm in sealing their agreement with a chaste kiss, he leaned closer.
But she coyly dodged him and rose from the bench.
“I think I should go inside, Adam,” she said, glancing toward the house. “It’s growing dark and there are some things I’d like to do…make sure my trunks have been properly unpacked, and perhaps read a little before I retire.”
“Of course,” he murmured, more disappointed than he would have thought. As he imagined the day when she would find her pleasure not in reading before bedtime, but in far more sensual pursuits, he stood and offered his arm. Pointedly, she refused to take it.
So their secretive game had already begun, he thought with amusement, escorting a silent Camille past the still, shadowed gardens and into the house.
“Good night, Mr. Thornton,” she said softly, her eyes pleading with him to answer in kind as a servant walked by them. “I’m sure we’ll talk again soon. Perhaps, when you have time, you could show me more of the plantation.”
“I’d be delighted, Miss Cary,” he replied, realizing that their outward formality would extend to any times other than when they were alone.
He didn’t exactly like the idea, but if it was the way to win her, he would do it.
“Sleep well.” And as he watched her ascend the stairs without even a backward glance, her natural grace causing her slender hips to sway provocatively, he found himself looking forward to the coming days with great anticipation indeed.
So he didn’t have a betrothal to announce on Saturday, he thought, striding into the library to pour himself a brandy. He would announce it soon enough, though, once he cornered her a few times alone and she discovered exactly what kind of game they were playing.
Raising his glass, Adam silently toasted the revenge that was almost within his grasp, then he tossed down the fiery contents, thinking of the woman who would make it possible.
His beautiful, acquiescent, and oh-so-delectable Camille.