Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Sariah was eager for any insight that Mr. Carrington might reveal.
She had been up half the night worrying over this conversation.
She might like to act as though she was a world-wise woman, but in truth, there were some aspects of the marriage bed that she had no idea how to resolve without proper instruction to cure her curiosity—or this specific ailment.
“Hysteria is not a… disease like you might have been led to believe.”
“Oh.” She had not been prepared for that. “Are you quite certain?”
“Quite.” He took a deep breath and then seemed to be gathering his words. Or his courage. “It is something that a woman feels when she is overly… excited. What you are feeling is desire, a lack of sexual gratification.”
“Oh.” She had not been expecting that, but of course, it made perfect sense considering the book she’d been perusing in her father’s study.
“That makes so much more sense.” She tapped a finger against her lips.
“Most of the conversations I overheard over the years were very one-sided, and I never was privy to the male perspective on the matter. Maggie and Ava and I discussed the subject at length, but we did not have a way to accurately calculate the results.”
“I suspect not,” he murmured. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, his green eyes vividly clearer than normal as he regarded her. “I would assume that you have also not heard of the little death?”
Sariah frowned. “No. I do not think so. It does not sound very pleasant.”
He cleared his throat. “Trust me, that is not what every woman who has experienced it claims. It is also known as an orgasm, release, climax, peak—"
Sariah held up a hand, her face flaming. “I believe I get your point. My question is how do I obtain this… peak if not to rely on your assistance?”
His gaze softened, turned hooded. “Have you never pleasured yourself before?”
She blinked, not sure she understood. “I have treated myself to an ice at Gunther’s many times and—”
He was already shaking his head. He leaned closer, and Sariah had the urge to lean toward him as well.
“That is not the sort of pleasure I am referring to.” His voice was husky, entirely sinful.
“It is the kind that makes you feel as though you have left this earth to soar among the heavens and stars.”
Sariah was hanging on to his every word. “That sounds… lovely.”
“It can be very satisfying.” His focus fell to her mouth.
“And this is not something you might… assist me with?” Why was she so breathless? And for some reason, that persistent throbbing had returned.
“I would love nothing more, Miss Kent, but I am not sure that is a wise idea since this is just a fake betrothal for society’s sake.” He leaned back slightly, and she wanted to drag him back to her.
But then she had a thought. “Is there a possibility that I could become with child if I achieved this… little death?”
“Not unless things got out of hand.”
“Could they?” she whispered.
He nodded slightly. “When emotions run high and your body is fueled by desire, it is extremely easy to get lost in the moment.”
“I see,” Sariah murmured. She licked her lips, and Mr. Carrington froze. She could feel the tension radiating inside of him. And was she imagining things, or were they drifting closer to one another again? “Since you do not seem willing to teach me, is it possible that I might learn from another—”
A growl sounded from deep within his throat. “I will kill any man who attempts it.”
She thrilled at the possessive tone in his voice. “Is it that… dangerous?”
“It can easily ruin a reputation if one is not concerned with propriety.”
“Indeed? I daresay that sounds rather…” Sariah exhaled a light sigh. “Delicious.”
Their lips were nearly touching, and she could feel every nerve ending in her body come alive with awareness.
A door slammed somewhere in the house and effectively broke the alluring haze that had surrounded them. Mr. Carrington blinked and then drew away, scrubbing a hand down his face and muttering something under his breath before he got to his feet. “I need to go.”
She was deflated. She knew she had been so close to knowing what it was like to kiss him—to kiss anyone. “So soon?”
“Yes.” He exhaled a heavy breath, and she wondered if it was due to frustration—or something else. “I will call again tomorrow. To keep up appearances.”
She gritted her teeth at the reminder that their courtship was nothing more than a ruse for society’s sake.
But perhaps it was for the best. She didn’t need to get too close to her Adonis and threaten her heart by becoming engaged.
“You are not attending the soiree this evening? Surely my father told you about it?”
He hesitated. “No. I was not aware of the event, but it is probably best that I do not join society too often. I would not want to wear out my welcome.” His smile was tight.
“And there is only so much politics and polite conversation I can withstand. I do it now only to secure a name on my contracts.”
She tilted her head to the side, her focus narrowing. “And to salvage my reputation, correct?”
He lifted a brow. “Of course. That was the top priority in this venture.”
Any enthusiasm she had been feeling toward Reed before that was effectively wiped clear.
She did not like feeling as though she was nothing more than a means to an end for him—an unwilling pawn in his investments.
She thought they had begun to have a common ground, but perhaps that was only one sided.
“Indeed, Mr. Carrington,” she said primly, rising to her feet. “I am glad we had this discussion. It has been quite enlightening.” She swept out of the room, her dignity keeping her head held high.
Four days later, Reed dared to enter the shipping enterprise that he shared with his three closest confidantes.
Each of the men had their own separate office, the tasks associated equally important but their strengths different from the other.
Henry had a talent for improving the design of the ships that they built, offering a faster and more reliable transport of goods.
James was generally moving around the docks, interacting with experienced seamen with the hope that they could be persuaded to operate one of their new vessels.
Jackson took care of the expense and profit books while Reed generally accepted the most challenging role—gaining new investors.
Until recently, the struggle had been mostly uphill, but thanks to the initial efforts by the baron, word was quickly gaining around London.
And now that people in higher circles believed that he was set to marry Lord Foxworth’s daughter, the meetings Reed had attended had become quite lucrative.
Money was steadily flowing in like never before.
At this rate, all his cohorts would be able to live rather comfortably for the rest of their days.
He was grateful when Henry and James greeted him fondly and remarked on his long-anticipated return.
Reed wondered if their eagerness was actually true, since Jackson had made it seem as though it was a unanimous decision that Reed embark on a hiatus for a time, but he decided not to open old wounds, grateful that some of the attention surrounding his “heroic efforts” at the Pond had already started to die down.
He was no longer hounded by a crowd of well-wishers and hadn’t been ever since the morning after.
He found Jackson in his office, bent over several ledgers and various other papers spread about his desk.
Reed always thought it was a mess, but Jackson preferred to call his area a form of controlled chaos.
Nevertheless, Reed had always admired the efficient way Jackson continued to keep their numbers straight and knew he would have made a fabulous member of the nobility if he had just been born to a different lineage.
He had a brilliant mind for business matters, and he would have run an impeccable estate.
This morning, however, Reed was on a different mission rather than reminiscing. He had been doing his job outside these four walls, but there was a more delicate issue that he needed to discuss with Jackson.
His friend greeted him with a distracted frown, but then the furrow eased on his brow and he got up with a broad grin.
“The prodigal has rejoined us again!” He walked over and clapped Reed on the back in a friendly gesture.
As they parted, his tone grew somber. “I am glad that you are here, so that I am able to make amends. I had thought of calling at the Albany many times in the past few days to offer my apology in person, but I honestly was not sure of the reception I might receive after I practically barred you from the office.”
Reed was actually glad that Jackson was the one who broached the subject.
The annoyance that had plagued him previously swiftly dissipated.
He’d learned long ago not to hold grudges as it seldom did anyone any good.
“I am actually glad that you did. The distance was able to get me to see things more clearly.”
Jackson offered Reed a seat as he returned behind his desk. He also poured a brandy for each of them. Reed muttered his thanks. “I assume that things are going well with Miss Kent? The number of influential men who have walked through our door has certainly become increasingly profitable.”
“I agree. Lord Foxworth has been very gracious with the introductions, as well as his support over this entire ordeal. With his backing, I have become more than merely a society infiltrator.” Reed took a bracing sip of his drink. “However, it is not the baron that I find I am having trouble with.”
Jackson grimaced. “Is Miss Kent so unlikeable then? I daresay she was rather opinionated that day at the Pond. I shall never forget the way she chastised you, rather than applaud your efforts on her behalf.”