Chapter Fourteen
Kitty took Oliver’s hand as she stepped down from the carriage, so excited that she would be showing Oliver around her family’s business today.
He’d only been to Larson Bookshop and Printing Press once, and that was before they married.
Kitty, until now, had tried to keep him away because of her secrets.
She knew now she’d been foolish to withhold something she cared so much about from him.
Oliver took her arm, and they continued to the warehouse.
Jack and Shannon would be there. They always prepared the next week’s printing schedule on Sunday, allowing the warehouse employees to start right away on Monday.
The underground events for illicit books were held in the warehouse, away from prying eyes. The door opened just as they reached it. Jack peered at them, clearly surprised to find Oliver with her. He turned red and bowed. “My lord…”
Oliver waved it away. “No need for any of that. I’m here to learn about books.”
Jack’s gaze flitted to her, and she said, “Including the illegal ones.”
Shannon peeked out from behind her husband. “You told him then?”
“I did.”
Oliver glanced at Kitty. She blushed. “Please meet Shannon and Jack Green. They have worked at the bookshop and warehouse longer than any other employees. You should know that they also urged me to tell you about the books right away.”
Her husband beamed at the Greens. “I like you both already so much.”
Jack chuckled and stepped aside to allow Oliver and Kitty entry.
Excited, she showed him their production process.
Kitty pointed to the paper stacked along one wall and then explained that pasteboards and adhesives were used to bind the books.
Then she brought him to the center of the room, where multiple stations held the forms for metal letters that could be placed in frames and pressed to make pages.
It smelled of ink and metal, a familiar scent and one of Kitty’s favorites in the world.
She loved this place and what they did here.
They were not the largest printing press in London, but also not the smallest.
Kitty showed Oliver how they printed the pages and then, because he seemed fascinated, demonstrated how they bound the books by sewing pages together and using extremely sticky glue on their edges to adhere them to the spine and the covers.
She handed him the sample book she’d created, a slim, blank volume when she was done.
Oliver took it almost reverently and beamed at her. “You love this place.”
She nodded. “It is all I’ve ever known. Hazel, Anna, and I grew up in this warehouse.”
“Are they as passionate about it as you are?”
“They care about it,” she said.
“Lady Everly is being modest, my lord. She has been key in growing the Larson Bookshop and Printing Press. She even has us testing out some steam engine presses,” Jack said, piping up from a workstation along the wall. Kitty smiled kindly at his words of praise.
“You amaze me,” Oliver said to Kitty.
She felt heat racing to her cheeks. “Enough of that. We all put in time, and to answer your question, yes, Hazel and Anna care about this place.”
“They don’t love it like you,” Jack said insistently.
“It is all I have left of my mum and dad.”
Oliver turned in a circle, studying the space. “Keeping this going is a marvelous way to honor your parents.”
Warmth shot through Kitty. She was glad he felt that way.
It was important that Oliver understood how much all of this mattered to her.
Next, she wanted to show him what the underground market looked like.
She’d sent a missive requesting that Shannon and Jack set up the room they used for the illicit book events, so he could see it firsthand.
And, perhaps, spend some time alone together.
She turned to her friends and employees. “I think we can manage from here. Why don’t you both enjoy the rest of the day off?”
Shannon frowned. “Are you sure? We can stay.”
Jack seemed to understand the hint and gently grasped his wife’s arm, guiding her to the door. Kitty held her hand out to Oliver. “Ready to see the books?”
They threaded their fingers together, and she led him back through the warehouse into the shop.
It was dark and quiet, with only the light coming in from the windows to see.
The beloved sweet and dusty scent of books filled her nostrils as they made their way through the stacks and shelves to the specialized room.
Once there, she released Oliver’s hand to let him wander around the space.
There were how-to manuals, anatomy books, philosophy papers, and scandalous romances.
She followed him, watching to see what he stopped to linger on, and what books didn’t appear to interest him.
He lingered more than he dismissed, she noted.
Finally, he looked at her, his eyes round. He was impressed, she could tell. “You have everything the modern London woman could want,” he murmured.
“That is my hope. There are other underground book publishers and sellers, but we are the only ones that cater to women, especially.”
He moved to the scandalous romance table. “Have you read these?”
“Some,” she said, suddenly feeling shy.
He picked up a book called Seraphina’s Lover. It was another story by Beth Martin and one of Kitty’s favorites. He flipped through the pages and then glanced at her. “May I keep this?”
“Of course.”
“Perhaps I can read to you while we are in bed?”
The thought caused her body to hum and made her lower half achy. “I would like that.”
He looked away, lost in thought, but then finally said, “I’m sorry I ever mentioned shutting the press down for these publications. I can see how special it is.”
“You don’t think it is wrong for women to have access to illicit material?”
He shrugged. “I don’t think women should be denied books like this because of their sex. While it is illegal for all, most of the material you provide is readily accessible to men in London.”
Exactly as she’d known all along. It was an unfair disparity, and a ridiculous one at that. “We are the primary provider of this type of content for women.”
He walked to her. “It is amazing. And you are right, it is important. Especially the educational material. So many women are kept uninformed.”
Kitty’s heart swelled with love for this man. He straightened then, and lifted one of her hands to his lips, kissing the back of it. “I will handle your uncle,” he promised.
She shivered from his touch. “He is threatening to release details to the newspapers.”
“I will ensure he doesn’t,” Oliver stated.
She smiled at him and placed a hand on his shirt. “Oliver, I’m thankful every day you are my husband.”
“I love you, Kitty. Always, no matter what scandals arrive at our doorstep.”
Her hand stroked his hard chest. The hum of attraction between them intensified. They’d slept in each other’s arms last night but had not been intimate since before their fight. Kitty wanted him. “Oliver, will you make love to me?”
He opened her hand to drop lingering kisses on her fingertips. Huskily, he asked, “In here, my love? In this room?”
“Yes,” she said, tugging her hand from his grasp and meeting his eyes with hers. “Make love to me here.”
Oliver walked them backward into an alcove area of the room until Kitty’s back hit the wall. The space was slightly darker, but light from a small square window provided ample light to still see each other. “Have you imagined this?”
She smiled shyly. “Not this exactly, but there is a scene in the book you have in your pocket that I like.”
He lifted a brow and pulled it from his jacket.
“I think it is in the fourth or fifth chapter.”
Oliver flicked the pages and then read aloud, “Seraphina stumbled back until her back hit the wall. Erickson walked toward his temptress. Her stomach knotted in anticipation. She wanted him to slide her skirts up and touch her. The ache between her thighs caused her to squeeze her legs together.”
Oliver tossed the book on a table and placed one hand next to Kitty’s head. “That scene, my sweet? Do you want me to stroke your quim until you cry out in ecstasy?”
Her breaths became rapid, and she nodded at him. Oliver leaned forward and nuzzled her neck, leaving kisses and bites along the way. “Ask me, Kitty?”
His hand grasped her skirts as he kissed her lips. Her mouth opened, and he stroked his tongue against hers hungrily. She moaned and attempted to wrap her arms around him. Oliver stopped her and pressed her arms at her side with her palms pressed against the wall. “Stay just like that.”
They stared at one another. Oliver wanted to lift her skirts and bury his cock deep within her, but there would be time for that soon enough. “Tell me what you want, Kitty?”
“Will you touch me?”
Christ, she was a sight, staring up at him with her bosom heaving from her deepened breaths.
He groaned. He yanked her skirts and petticoats up, seeking out her heat.
He kissed her again as his fingers slid along her most feminine area.
She whimpered into his mouth. Oliver pinched and teased her sensitive nub until she bucked wildly.
Kitty continued to obey him, keeping her hands still pressed against the wall. He brushed her ear with his lips. “Do you want me to replace my fingers with my cock?”
Kitty ran kisses along his jaw. “Yes, please.”
Oliver stepped back and released himself from his pants. “Wrap your arms around my neck.”
She did as he asked. Oliver, in one motion, lifted her legs to wrap around his hips and buried his shaft deep into her. They both moaned loudly, in unison.
Kitty quivered in his arms, and Oliver knew he was giving her exactly what she needed and wanted.
He vowed to give her even more, to make her cry out and lose herself, just as he’d lost himself, and his heart, to her.
He knew she was close. He pulled out of her and then plunged back in, rotating his hips, creating a friction that made her cry out more loudly.
Oliver smiled against her throat, loving the sound.
He did it over and over again as she cried out with every thrust. Finally, on the cusp of his release, he said, “Come with me, Kitty.”
She let out a garbled sound and threw her head back.
Kitty clung to him. He could feel her climax around his cock.
He groaned and thrust one last time, spending.
Oliver held her up against the wall, breathing heavily.
Finally, he released her legs, and she stood in front of him.
His wife was stunning in the aftermath of their coupling.
“Kitty, you are mine forever.”
She smiled at him. “Always.”
He kissed her deeply, needing to feel her mouth against his again. When they finally broke apart, she laughed throatily. “Now that I’m a sated, happy wife, I suppose I should show you the bookshop and office.”
“Lead the way, Lady Everly. I’m excited to see more of the things you care about.”
Oliver truly meant that. He wanted to understand everything that made Kitty who she was. As they walked, she said, “I want to know your interests, too, Oliver.”
The problem was Oliver didn’t have any passions yet.
No, that was untrue. He had one passion: his wife.
But, perhaps, he’d find some of his own interests to become as passionate about as she was with hers.
“Before I went to war, I was in school and the Marquess of Everly’s son, then I was a soldier, and when I came back, I was no longer the heir but lord and master of the estate.
I don’t think I know what interests me.”
Kitty laughed. “I’m here to help you find your passions, then. Besides the one we share.” Her gaze was full of meaning.
He smiled at her. “Maybe I will write. I used to love doing that when I was younger.”
She gave an excited little jump. “That’s wonderful! I will print your books.”
He pulled her in for a kiss. “Even if they are rubbish.”
“Your books could never be rubbish. But perhaps they could be scandalous romances.” Kitty raised and lowered her eyebrows at him.
Oliver chuckled.