No Other Love (22 page)

Luke’s chest rose and fell beneath her hands as she released the buttons of his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders to reveal his muscled chest and the powerful arms that held her so easily. Her hands fumbled at his trousers, and he groaned, closing his eyes as if in pain. Now she understood how close to pain this kind of pleasure was, and she didn’t let anything deter her.

With his help she slid his trousers, shoes and socks off until he was as naked as she. Then she sat back on her heels and stared at him, swallowing hard at his size. How could he possibly fit inside her? Reaching out she touched and stroked him until he pulsed with life in her hand. Groaning as if he’d reached the limit of his endurance, he pushed her back on the bed.

Relentlessly now he kissed her, his tongue sliding into her mouth, teaching her a new rhythm. Then his mouth was on her breasts, sucking and licking the tender peaks. On and on the torment went, first one breast and then the other, his mouth moving up to kiss her again and again. Rose’s hands raced over his skin. She felt the sheen of perspiration on his back and reached up to taste the salt of his neck.

His hand moved lower, over the slight swell of her belly, the soft hair. Her breath stopped as she felt his hand cover the part of her that ached so desperately. Her hips rose at the sweetness of his touch, the bolt of pure pleasure so intense a cry escaped her.

He was lying beside her now, murmuring praise and endearments as his finger stroked her. Need built and coiled through her until her head tossed on the pillow and she called out his name, frightened by the intensity of her feelings. She didn’t know if she could go on and yet she couldn’t bring herself to stop him. Desperately she sought something from him.

“Luke, please – ”

Her nails dug into his arm as the pleasure crested and broke. Arching into his hand she rose to meet each wave until gradually they receded.

She opened her eyes to his beautiful face above her, his eyes blazing.

“I have to have you now, darling. Stay open for me a little longer,” he coaxed, his voice tight with need.

Rose nodded, too awed to deny him anything, wanting whatever he wanted.

He kissed her long and deep as slowly he entered her. But he was so big, she felt herself stretch around him, and the stretching turn to burning pain. Panicking a little, she moved restlessly, her fingers clenched on his arms.

“Easy, darling. Easy,” he soothed. His voice shook, and all at once Rose understood what he was feeling, the pleasure she could give him. Her panic subsided and she relaxed, her body welcoming him.

Once again he stroked her, renewing her pleasure as she grew accustomed to him. Soon she was responding fully, rising to him, accepting more of him with every thrust. Soon she wanted him deeper, filling her, and her hands instinctively moved to his buttocks, urging him on.

“Sweet lord,” he groaned, burying his face in her neck, his hands fisted in her hair as his powerful body moved over and inside her. With one last thrust he called out her name as he shook with his release.

Rose lay cradled in Luke’s embrace listening to his heartbeat return to normal. Everything had taken on a sensual dimension, and her skin felt even the simple act of lying in bed in a new way, as is she’d never felt sheets slide over her skin. She finally knew what she’d been yearning for all those nights she lay awake thinking of him.

She stretched lazily against him and gave a small laugh.

He smoothed the hair from her forehead and looked down at her. “What’s so funny?”

“This is what you’ve been wanting to do since you met me?” she asked.

“Since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“I’m glad I didn’t know how wonderful it would be. It was difficult enough to be around you as it was.

“I quite agree,” he said, giving her a quick kiss on her nose.

“I can’t imagine everyone feels this, or no one would leave the house.”

Luke laughed and rolled her over until he was on top of her again.

“Well, my sweet wife, I don’t intend to. Not for a long time.”

Though they didn’t have time for a honeymoon trip, Luke didn’t go back to work until the following Monday. They had five days together with nothing to do but make love, eat, take long drives and explore Boston together. But though they ventured out of bed, it almost seemed as if they never stopped making love, for every moment with him was intimate and fraught with sensuality. Never in all her imaginings, either before their engagement or after, had she thought it would be like this.

Mrs. Williamson kindly put together baskets for their drives and sent trays to their room. And when they did descend for a meal, the housekeeper appeared to take no notice of their flushed appearance and addled demeanor, though Rose detected a discrete smile or two from her. Rose would have been embarrassed, were she not so woozy from lovemaking.

Yet in the midst of this profound pleasure her grief still reared its head, and with it came guilt that she could experience such happiness. Tucked away in her trunk, the soiled glove was a reminder of what she must face. But it was too soon. Perhaps in a few months she’d feel more confident in the possibility of Luke forgiving her betrayal, but their marriage was too new and fragile to burden it now. And if she were honest, she couldn’t bear the thought of spoiling the happiness unfolding between them. Silently she asked her father for more time, hoping he understood.

***

Luke stood looking at Rose as she lay sleeping, her hair spilling over the pillow in brilliant waves, the light from the fire gilding the silky skin of a shoulder and arm, the long leg that slipped out from under the covers.

They’d had five blissful days together, but now he must leave her and go back to the office. How he would think about anything but his new wife was beyond him. He’d washed and dressed while she slumbered but found himself sitting back down just to look at her, putting off the inevitable.

Her skin, flushed from their recent lovemaking, invited more caresses, but he stilled his hand in order to let her sleep. He’d been stealing enough hours meant for sleeping.

He couldn’t get enough of her, could hardly keep his hands off her even when they were both fully dressed and around the staff or out on the street. And it wasn’t just the pleasure of taking her to bed that held him. Her husky voice, the slow smile that started as if unsure of itself and then lit up the room, her sense of humor – all these things made him loathe to leave her side.

Still, as much as he was discovering her, she was slow to reveal herself, and he felt that part of her was still kept from him. There was a nervousness or retreat in her manner, a shadow that came and went. They were still too new to each other for him to question her, but he often wondered what his new bride was thinking.

She stirred, her lids slowly opening to reveal those mercurial eyes. She smiled shyly and pulled the covers over her.

“What are you doing over there?” she asked.

“Trying to tear myself away from you so that I can return to work.”

Rose’s smile faded and she sat up, modestly holding the blankets in place. Her hair spilled over her shoulders and down her back, and in an instant he was hard. Again.

“Must you go?” she asked, her lower lip forming a delicious pout.

Bending over he nipped her lip and then drew it into his mouth before kissing her long and lingeringly. Finally he pulled away. Much as he wanted to ravish her, it would have to wait.

“I must,” he sighed. “A great deal has been happening this past week, and I need to be there to ensure things don’t get any worse.”

“Has something gone wrong?”

Luke took Rose’s hand in his, for it was impossible to be near her and not touch her. “The board still thinks there’s a chance to save the original route. They insist that we make another offer to Mrs. Harris, which is absurd. But they don’t listen to reason.”

Luke stopped and looked at Rose with concern. All the blood had drained from her face and her hand clutched his.

“Will you do it then?” she asked.

“Make Mrs. Harris another offer? Absolutely not. We have our new route set and we’re to start blasting this week.”

Her hand unclenched and some of the tension left her.

“What’s the matter? Why are you so upset?” he asked, unsettled by the strength of her reaction.

“I suppose I just feel sorry for that poor woman. She’s already given her answer several times over. I hate to think that the railroad would continue to bully her.”

“I don’t like to think we’ve been bullying her, but I quite agree we ought to move on. You needn’t worry on that score.”

She gave him a small smile. “I’m sorry to overreact. You’d best go or you’ll be late.”

Luke hesitated, still feeling as if there was something more to her distress. But perhaps he was the one overreacting now.

“Very well. If you’re sure you’re all right,” he said, leaning over to kiss her once more. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

Gathering his jacket he left the room, turning around at the last moment to see Rose lying back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling.

Chapter Twelve

Once Luke went back to work Rose spent her days decorating the house, visiting with Vivian, and reading every book in Luke’s library. For the first time in her life she was mistress of her own home, and not since she was fifteen had she had any leisure time.

She had no chores and no particular place to be most days, a not altogether comfortable feeling after so many years of usefulness. She therefore created her own daily structure of walks to the market, reading in front of the fire in her sitting room, visits with Vivian, menu planning with Mrs. Williamson and, of course, her midday meal with Luke.

She still couldn’t get enough of her new husband, and many were the times they made love rather than partake of the meal laid in the dining room. Fortunately, Mrs. Williamson was an amiable woman and without being asked always packed a basket of food for Luke to take back.

Boston was favored with a glorious October and Rose took full advantage of the clear bright days by reacquainting herself with the town. Ever since moving to the farm she’d feared her world would close in on her, getting smaller and smaller until it was so small nothing new would ever squeeze through. Now every day brought something new, not just in the places she saw but in the things she felt.

In the first few weeks of their marriage they went to a play or recital once or twice a week, but then a troubling thing began to happen. Though they continued to steer clear of any gatherings Charlotte attended, soon even that wasn’t enough to guarantee they were treated civilly. Just as Luke had predicted, the very people who had greeted them so warmly now said a stiff hello to Luke, if they said anything at all, and hardly acknowledged Rose.

“You remember my wife,” Luke said the first time it happened, his ferocious glare causing Mrs. Barrett to pale and her husband to stammer. But it happened again and again, until all the pleasure went out of the occasions.

Charlotte and Jonas had moved back to their dwelling in town, and clearly Charlotte was making good on her threats. Fortunately, she and Luke received invitations from people in the less elite echelons of society — well-to-do merchants and politicians, the occasional intellectual, as well as old acquaintances from Luke’s earlier days in Boston. But even they employed servants, and while friendlier to her, they still regarded her as either a curiosity or a threat. As much as Rose tried to enjoy herself, she was ever on guard, worried she’d say the wrong thing.

She despaired of making any new friends until one evening late in October, when she was pleasantly surprised to see Eliza Lynch.

“Mrs. Fletcher, how lovely to see you.”

Rose smiled with pleasure at Mrs. Lynch’s greeting. The two had met during an intermission at the playhouse in September and Rose had been taken with her bright laugh and engaging personality. A pretty blond woman perhaps ten years older than herself, Mrs. Lynch had seemed like she might one day be more than an acquaintance. Tonight’s supper was being given by Matthew Bishop, an old classmate of Luke’s, and Rose hadn’t expected to see anyone she knew.

“I didn’t expect to see you,” Rose said, taking a sip of punch.

“I know Mrs. Bishop through our charity work. I hadn’t realized you’d be here either, but I’m so glad you are. I’ve been wanting to get better acquainted with you for weeks now.”

“I thought the very same thing,” Rose said, smiling with delight.

“I hope Mr. Fletcher is easier to coax out of the house than Mr. Lynch. Whenever it rains Mr. Lynch needs to be dragged kicking and screaming out the door.”

“Mr. Fletcher was happy enough to come, though we stay in most nights.”

“It’s good to see him so happy,” Mrs. Lynch said, causing Rose to blush. “He was so distraught after Catherine’s loss. I’ve never seen a man more in love, so it was no surprise he had to leave town. A thing like that haunts a person for life.”

Rose looked down at the glass in her hands, unable to speak. The woman’s words seemed designed to cut her to the heart, and yet they were said with the warmth and compassion of a friend.

“Oh my dear, how thoughtless of me,” Mrs. Lynch cried, her hand flying to her bosom. “What a thing to say to a new bride. You mustn’t listen to me.”

It was rather too late for that, but Rose managed to smile and let Mrs. Lynch lead her to a group of gossiping matrons. Luke looked at her from across the room, his gaze taking her in from the tip of her gray satin slippers to the top of her head. A private smile spread across his face and his gaze turned heated. She smiled back, heartened just looking at him, but he must have sensed her low spirits, for he frowned and excused himself from the two men with whom he’d been conversing.

“Is everything all right, sweetheart?” he asked, his breath warm on her cheek. His big capable hand gripped her elbow, and even that simple touch flooded her with awareness.

She wouldn’t mention Eliza Lynch’s unsettling comment, especially not here. The last thing she wanted was to remind him of the worst period of his life.