To Win His Wayward Wife (14 page)

“Your turn,” he said, picking up his work of art and moving it out of the way to dry. He returned a moment later with a fresh canvas and saw Madison was cleaning the brushes. “Can I help?”

“No, I’m almost done.” She finished cleaning them and stared at the white cloth in front of her. After a few minutes she finally said, “I have no idea what to paint.”

“Hmm, how about a landscape? I’m sure yours would turn out much better than mine.”

She shook her head. “I’ve never been good with matching nature’s hues.”

“What about an animal. Have you ever been to a menagerie?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head again. “I’ve only seen small animals like dogs, ducks, squirrels, and mice in person. I’ve only seen drawings and such of things like rhinoceroses and duckbilled platypuses, never in person.”

He grinned at her animal choices. “All right,” he said slowly, rubbing his jaw. “What did you paint before?”

“People,” she blurted out, turning red.

He grinned. “All you need do is ask. How would you like me? Standing? Sitting? By the window? On the bed?”
Naked,
he added mentally.

“Anywhere is fine really,” she said uneasily. “Wherever you’d feel most comfortable.”

“Hmm,” he said, pretending to think. He already knew where he was going to pick, he just didn’t want to seem
too
eager. “How about I lie on the bed, that way you can turn around and have the window to your back for better light.”

“All right,” she chirped. Her hands seemed a little unsteady as she went about squeezing fresh paint on the pallet and turning her supplies around to face him.

Against his body’s demands, Benjamin slowly walked to the bed and lay on his side. He propped his elbow up on the pillows and leaned his head against his hand. He took the other hand and brought it to rest in front of his stomach. “Is this all right?” he asked when he was in what he thought to be as nearly a perfect position as he could get into at the time. It would be better if he and she were minus their clothes, but this would do for now.

She looked up and a burble of laughter passed her lips. “You’re trying much too hard. Just relax.”

He stared at her. He was relaxed. As relaxed as he could possibly be when just looking at her made his muscles tense with desire and his body ache with need. “Is this better?” he asked, even though he hadn’t done a thing different.

“No. You haven’t moved a millimeter. Here, let me help you.” She walked up to him and pushed him onto his back. She took his right arm and laid it behind his head, then moved his left arm to his side. She looked down at his boots and pursed her lips. “I suppose you want to leave those on?”

“No,” he exclaimed a little too loudly. “I mean, I’ve no problem if you want to take them off.”

She walked down to his feet and undid the laces on his boots before yanking them off and letting them hit the floor with two loud thuds. She left his stockings on and walked to his waist. A hot coil of desire twisted in his stomach as she grabbed onto the bottom of his shirt and tugged it from his trousers. Then her dainty fingers arranged his shirttails then went to the buttons at the top of his shirt. She undid the top two and let it hang open in the perfect V. “Now just let me do your cuff and I’ll get started,” she murmured as she undid the buttons on the cuff that was to rest above his head. She rolled up his sleeve two rolls and set it back down.

 He scowled. “You cannot undo the cuff of one arm and not the other. It just feels wrong.” He quickly undid the other cuff and laid his arms back how she’d had them.

“Sorry. I wasn’t going to have the full length of that arm in the picture,” she said with a shrug.

“It’s fine,” he assured her. Then shooting her a wolfish grin, he purposely moved both his arms a little and said, “Oh, you better come rearrange me now that I’ve moved.”

Quickly, she came back and put his arms exactly how she wanted them. “Don’t move again,” she warned.

“Yes, Your Grace,” he teased, making her flash him a warm smile.

Madison walked back to where she’d propped her canvas up against the back of the chair he’d been sitting earlier (how odd that the little shop in Bath carried brushes with three hairs, but not easels). She took her seat and grabbed a nearby quill.

Using the quill, she made a light outline of his body and the bed before grabbing her brushes. Time seemed to evaporate as he lay there watching her as she’d peek up at him every few seconds then swish her brush on the canvas.

 She was so beautiful, glowing in the sunlight that streamed in the window behind her. The beams of light caught her hair and surrounded her face, making her look like an angel.

He wouldn’t mind looking at this image forever.

“All right, you can talk now,” Madison said softly. “I can see you’re dying to.”

He smiled at her. “Thank you. But believe it or not, I’m content just to look at you.”

She twisted her lips in irritation. “Of course. All right. If you wish to stare, that’s fine.”

“It seems to me that you’re the one who wants to talk,” he mused with a smile. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “It just feels strange with you staring at me.”

“You’re staring at me, too,” he pointed out.

“Yes, because I’m painting you.”

“And I’m looking at you because you’re painting me,” he said, trying not to laugh. She must not like people to look at her.

She got up out of her chair and grabbed the canvas. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m done.”

Rather comfortable in his position, he didn’t move as she walked over to him with the canvas. His gaze slid over the picture when she turned it toward him. “It’s a perfect likeness. You have everything exact.”

She shrugged. “No, I missed a few things. Like right here,” she started to point to something on his face and he swiped her hand away.

“No. It’s perfect. There are no flaws.”

“If you say so,” she said doubtfully. “Shall we annoy Andrew and hang it up in his gallery once it dries?”

He chuckled. “Not this one. This one goes to
my
gallery. However, I have an idea for Andrew’s…”

“By the look on your face, I get the impression it’s not a nice idea,” she said, giving him the best sharp look she could manage while trying not to laugh.

“It’s not,” he said with a grin. “However, I wouldn’t let you hang that one up, either. I wouldn’t want to deal with a jealous Andrew once Brooke caught sight of it.”

“Oh, puh-lease,” she said, exaggerating her words and rolling her eyes.

He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed then pulled her to come stand in between them. “You know I only tease you in that way because I know you like it.”

“Yes. And I admit, I do enjoy such banter, even if I shouldn’t,” she said with a shy smile.

“You’re rather peculiar for a vicar’s daughter, you know?” He took the canvas from her and set it beside him on the bed, freeing both of her hands.

“I know,” she said easily. “I always was. Papa used to despair about what would happen to me. I’ve always had a trait for saying unsavory comments. But, for as much as my parents tried, I just didn’t absorb their advice.”

He pulled her arms up to wrap around his neck. “Madison,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her as close to him as he could. “I think you’re perfect just the way you are, naughty banter and all.”

She smiled down at him. “And I like you, naughty banter and all.”

“Stay with me tonight.” His voice was quiet and steady, belying the rush of emotions and blood coursing through him.

“I can’t,” she whispered.

“Why not?” He moved his hands to caress her lower back.

Her blue eyes met his and locked. “I don’t know.”

“Then stay. We won’t do anything you don’t want. I promise.” He moved his lips to her jaw and kissed its rounded edge. “We can kiss. I know you like to kiss,” he murmured in between kisses. His lips kissed a path to her ear and softly nipped and licked the hollow behind her ear. “I can hold you tight, like I am right now.” He moved his caressing hands further up her back, broadening his movements to cover her whole back. His lips left her ear and found their way to her mouth. “I’ll only do what you wish, Madison. I’ll not force you. Ever.”

Madison’s body might have fallen into a heap of bones and flesh if it hadn’t been for Benjamin’s hands holding her up. “Just holding and kissing?”

“Just holding and kissing,” he confirmed. He flashed her a roguish smile. “And maybe a little touching, too.”

“Touching?”

“Maybe just a little,” he said with a wink. “Only if you want to.”

“All right,” she agreed with a slight swallow. “I’ll stay.”

Chapter 15

Dinner dragged by slower than a twenty five year old horse attempting to pull a phaeton in a race.  But this time it wasn’t the uncomfortable company that made dinner crawl, it was the anticipation that Madison might change her mind. Benjamin wasn’t going to press her to share his bed tonight—well, in a literal sense she would have to, but not in the metaphoric sense.

“Are you ready?” he whispered after their meal.

“I just need to get some things from my room,” she whispered back. Her eyes held no fear or uncertainty.

He walked with her down the hall and to her room. “May I come in with you while you gather your things?”

She nodded and went inside, leaving the door open for him. He went in, shut the door behind them, and watched as she gathered a few items in her arms. Seeing her juggle her comb and other
toilette
items, he grabbed her reticule that was right next to him and walked over to her. Holding it out to her, he helped her fill it up with the items she’d need, purposely not suggesting she grab a nightgown to add to her travel bag.

“I think I’m ready now,” she said evenly, not a hint of emotion in her voice.

They left the room and together left the house, making sure to avoid rooms that her sister and Andrew might be in.

A broad smile spread across his face when they crossed the threshold to the cabin where they’d spend their first night together. He’d bungled their first attempt; he wasn’t going to mess it up again.

“Where shall I put this?” she asked, gesturing to her reticule.

“Anywhere you want, duchess,” he answered, walking to the window and drawing the drapes. “Are you cold?”

“No,” she said, emptying the items from her reticule on the vanity. “I’m actually rather warm.”

“Sorry. I forgot to shut the drapes when we left earlier and it got hot in here.” He stripped to his shirtsleeves and went to stand behind her while she arranged her things on the vanity. “I’m glad you agreed to stay,” he murmured against her neck while he nuzzled it.

She mumbled an incoherent reply and her brush slipped from her fingers, making a loud noise when it hit the vanity. He moved his fingers to the top of her gown and pulled the edge down, dropping tender kisses across her shoulders and the top of her back as he went. He peeled the cap off her left shoulder and nipped the top with his teeth before soothing it with his tongue, making her gasp.

Her head lulled to the side, allowing him better access to her neck. He moved his moist lips from her shoulder to her neck, leaving a warm trail to mark his path. She sighed as he bent his head and kissed his way around to the front of her neck then licked the hollow by her clavicle.

He took his hands from her gown and brought them to her hair where he used his fingertips to gently massage her scalp. “May I play your lady’s maid tonight?”

She groaned. “I don’t have one,” she said mindlessly.

“I know,” he whispered into her neck. “Let me help you tonight.” Without waiting for her to form a coherent response, his fingers started finding the pins in her hair and pulling them out. She had so much hair to free; but a man with a mission never takes long to conquer his task, and in a matter of minutes, he was running his fingers through her blonde ringlets. “It’s so long,” he said inanely, before burying his face into its curly mass and kissing her on the sensitive spot behind her ear.

Madison’s body fell limp against his when he pushed her hair away and pressed open mouthed kisses along her shoulder. His hands found the buttons on the back of her dress and slipped them free. Turning her around to face him, he grabbed the top of her gown and held it in place. Running his thumb over the skin next to the one sleeve that was still on her shoulder, he lowered his mouth to hers.

She responded immediately by brushing her lips against his and opening her mouth when he parted his lips. Deepening their kiss, he hooked his thumb inside her gown and dragged the fabric to the edge of her shoulder. Taking his lips from hers, he kissed the corner of her mouth before kissing a line to her jaw, then down her neck and over to her shoulder. Releasing the fabric with his fingers, the gown dropped to the floor and he took hold of her bare upper arms. “Put your arms around me,” he murmured as he kissed her chest right above the thin line of lace on her chemise.

She obeyed his command and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her delicate fingers sank into his thick hair and twisted his golden strands. Wordlessly, he moved his hands to her waist and in one quick motion, he picked her up and hauled her to the bed.

Remembering his promise to her, he rolled off to the side and murmured what he hoped sounded like a sincere apology. Cradling the far side of her face in his hand, he placed gentle kisses on the top of her chest. His face moved to settle in the valley of her breasts and he brought his hand to pull the top of her chemise down to expose more of her skin. His mouth explored her sternum and his hand drifted over to gently cup her breast.

She groaned and arched into his hand, pressing her nipple against his palm. He felt it harden through her chemise. He brought his other hand to her thigh and softly kneaded her pliant flesh while his mouth found her free breast and started kissing its soft slope.

“Ben,” she gasped when his mouth found the crest of her breast and closed around it.

“Madison,” he panted, laving her nipple with his tongue. His hand abandoned her breast and skated down her abdomen to her waist, then to her other thigh. Dropping lower, his mouth left her breast and kissed the undersides of her breasts, along the top of her ribs. His hands moved to her knees and he ran a lone finger behind each knee, drawing a shiver from her.

Her body was limp with her eyes only half open. Her head rested with one cheek on the pillow and her hair covering the other. She brought one hand up to rest in Benjamin’s hair as he kissed his way down her abdomen and his hands spread her thighs. He came up on his knees between her legs and ran his hands down the gentle curve of calves.

Benjamin’s slow moving hands came back to her knees then moved upwards past her waist, bringing the hem of her chemise with them. “Madison,” he rasped as his lips moved over her hipbone.

“Yes,” she sighed, arching off the bed as his mouth traveled lower. The fingers she’d had in his hair tightened their grip while her other hand twisted in the sheets. “Ben,” she moaned.

One of his hands came up to rest in the sweet dip between her thigh and hip and the other slid underneath her to cup her bottom. Bringing his mouth to her thigh, he moved his fingers to twist in her nest of curls before slipping them lower. Deftly, he massaged her sensitive flesh as she arched and bucked off the bed at his touches. He heard her groan his name again and murmured hers in reply as he slipped his finger into her warm, ready body.

Her fingers tightened in his hair as he increased his pace. Her breathing sounded shallow and her skin grew warm. Her hips moved to meet his rhythm as his palm rubbed her aching flesh and he slipped another finger inside.

Benjamin’s eyes swept his wife’s body the best they could. This was the most beautiful sight he’d ever beheld. Her face was relaxed with pleasure; her skin was pink and hot with desire. Subtle sighs escaped her lips, becoming louder and more frequent. And then, her face flushed and her body convulsed around him in completion.

After he felt the last waves of her pleasure, he withdrew his hand and leaned forward to drop a kiss on her flushed forehead. He pulled the bottom of her chemise back down and lay down next to her, pulling her body to rest with her back flush against his chest.

A minute later, he heard her softly say, “No lady’s maid has ever done
that
to me before.”

“I should hope not,” he replied dryly, reaching forward to push a lock of her damp hair from her cheek.

She snuggled closer to him, and from a little mirror across the room on the vanity, he could see her pink lips curve into a sleepy smile. “Thank you,” she whispered quietly, her face turning a fetching shade of pale pink.

“For what?” he murmured, leaning down to scatter kisses across her delicate shoulders.

“For, you know,” she said, her skin turning warmer. “I’ve never felt that way before. Thank you.”

He stopped kissing her and drew back. “You haven’t?”

“No,” she said, turning her head just enough so she could see partially see him with one eye. “How would I have? Unlike your sex, mine doesn’t typically go around touching their own private parts.”

A new wave of shame washed over him, causing the blood to rush to his head, his stomach to clench and his heart to ache. He swallowed hard, then again. “Oh, Madison, I’m so sorry,” he whispered raggedly before wrapping her in his arms and holding her tightly to his pounding chest.

***

Madison tried to twist her head around to better see the nodcock who was holding her. He’d just given her the most intense pleasure of her life and he was apologizing? What was wrong with the man? And why on earth did he look more unsettled now than he did the night of their engagement when he’d been sucker punched in the breadbasket? “What are you upset about?” she demanded a bit irritably. He was most certainly ruining the moment with his reaction.

“It all makes sense now,” he said softly, clearly ignoring her questions.

“What makes sense?” she asked a bit louder.

He looked down at her and gave her another squeeze. “I’m so sorry about our wedding night.” His voice sounded raw and ragged.

“Our wedding night?” she repeated. She thought that would be a subject they’d both gladly never discuss again.

He nodded. “Yes. I thought… I thought…” he broke off and cleared his throat. “I thought you did that because you didn’t want to go to bed with me. But it wasn’t, was it? You just didn’t know any better.”

Madison’s eyes went wide. “You knew?” she croaked.

He nodded. “Yes, I knew you weren’t a virgin.”

Heat flooded her face, shame and embarrassment warring for the position of its primary cause. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “If I’d known you before we married like I know you now, I would have told you.” She would have, too. They’d become so close in the last few days she would have wanted to be honest with him. She would have known she could trust him to guard her secret. Even if he didn’t want to marry her due to her lack of innocence, she would have told him. But apparently, it hadn’t mattered as much to him as she thought and her heart squeezed. He’d known and still wanted to marry her for some reason. How had he known, she wondered. She had her answer a split-second later: Andrew. Brooke must have told Andrew, and Andrew must have told Benjamin when they’d talked of betrothal contracts.

“No, Madison,” he said fiercely, bringing her to the present. “I’m the one who ought to be sorry, Madison. What I said was bad enough, but to know you hadn’t done it deliberately to hurt me, makes it worse.” His fingers lazily made shapes and other mindless touches on her shoulder.

“Are you mad?” she asked tentatively, chastising herself for asking such a stupid question when she could look at his face and clearly see he was.

“Not at you,” he said, giving her a tight, reassuring squeeze. “I’m mad at myself for what I said. And I’m mad at that selfish ass for taking all the pleasure.”

She laughed. “Taking all the pleasure?” she repeated dubiously. From what she could remember there wasn’t any other way about it. She’d never found an ounce of pleasure in the activity during any of the times she’d shared Robbie’s bed. Women just didn’t. So, why did he seem so upset about it?

“Yes,” he said tightly. “Women feel pleasure, too.”

She looked at him like he was insane. “I assure you, they do not.”

“I assure you, they can,” he countered. “Did it hurt?”

Her eyes widened. Did she really have to answer that? “Yes,” she said quietly.

“I mean after the first time?” he asked, swallowing hard. Surely this could not be an easy topic for him to want to know about.

Of course it had hurt after the first time. It hurt every time. Wasn’t it supposed to? Isn’t that why women despised the activity? Except for her sisters, that is. For some reason she couldn’t understand for the life of her they both seemed to like the activity rather well. She felt him give her shoulder a squeeze and realized he was still waiting for her answer. “Yes,” she said so quietly that she was only aware he’d heard her because his arms tightened their hold around her.

“It’s not supposed to,” he said softly. “If it does, it’s because the man’s a selfish ass. Some women can even enjoy it the first time, too. But only if she has a considerate partner.”

She shrugged. “It’s a little late now, isn’t it?” she said, hoping he’d let the conversation go.

“Yes,” he conceded. “It’s too late for your first time, and I’m sorry it was so bad. But I can promise you that you’ll find nothing but pleasure in my bed.”

“All right,” she said doubtfully. She’d shared Robbie’s bed enough to know that wasn’t going to happen, but there was no need to tell him that. She’d just lie there quietly while he went about his business, just like before.

“Madison, that’s a promise and I don’t make promises lightly. You’ll enjoy sharing my bed; I’ll not take my pleasure until you get yours. I promise it.” His words were quiet yet firm. Definite.

She smiled at him and buried her head in his chest. “Are you going to sleep in all your clothes?” she asked, turning her head to look down at his booted feet.

“I suppose I can take some off,” he mumbled as she rolled away to let him have room to get up. He sat on the edge and quickly kicked off his boots then peeled off his stockings. Then he undid the top few buttons on his shirt before he reached up over his head and yanked it off.

“What about your trousers?” she asked when he went to lie down.

“Better leave those on,” he said with a grin.

She looked at him for a minute then laughed. “No too-tight drawers on under them?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head ruefully. “I left those off this morning. I don’t like to wear them if I don’t have to. It seems as if my waistline has changed drastically changed since the last time I wore them on a regular basis.”