TuesdayNights (35 page)

Desire overwhelmed her. There was a heat building deep inside her, between her thighs and the base of her spine that demanded he do something more. She could feel the hard ridge behind the fall of his breeches. Why doesn’t he take me now? she wondered, wishing she could feel his flesh inside of her, filling her and soothing the ache that had slowly manifested itself every day since their wedding.

Michael pulled away a bit and then kissed her lightly. “Sleep well, my love,” he said quietly, wincing as he stood up with her still in his arms. Turning around, he placed her down on the bed and smoothed her gown down around her legs. I want her right now, he thought suddenly, realizing she was ripe and willing to share her bed with him.

Stunned that he would simply stop when he did, Olivia’s breath caught as she stared at him. His face was drawn. The bruising on his body was much worse than when she had first seen him only an hour ago. Suddenly understanding his quick dismissal of her, Olivia’s desire was replaced by concern. “Should I have Jeffers send for the doctor?” she asked, the worry on her face matching the tone of her voice. She reached over and lightly kissed a bruise on the side of his chest.

Michael closed his eyes and sighed as he felt the pleasurable shiver pass through his body. Perhaps I could ... But he was no longer able to breathe without feeling pain. “No,” he replied quietly, his head shaking. “I’ll be fine. I may even be able to dance at the ball,” he added with a forced grin. He leaned over to kiss her on the forehead, the tiredness in his body finally overtaking him. A moment later, he was flat on his back on the bed, sound asleep.

Olivia raised herself on one elbow and surveyed her battered husband. The bruising truly was worse than when she had first seen him in his room, and she found herself becoming more worried. She got out of bed, pulled on her new dressing gown, and yanked the bell for a servant. Then, hurrying to the door, she opened it slightly and waited until a footman appeared at the top of the stairs. He seemed startled to see her, but bowed and said, “Yes, my lady?”

“Do you know if there is any arnica in the house?” she asked urgently, hoping she wouldn’t have to send the man next door to the doctor’s house. If she applied the pain reliever now, she hoped her husband might sleep sounder and the bruises would heal quicker.

“Right away, madam,” the footman replied before bowing and hurrying back down the stairs. Although it seemed as if he was gone for a very long time, Olivia knew it was probably only a few minutes before he reappeared, huffing as he reached the top of the stairs. He hurried to her door, holding out the dark jar.

“Thank you,” Olivia said as she took it and nodded to the footman’s hasty bow. Grabbing a flannel from near the ewer and basin, she moved to stand next to the bed. Starting with his jaw, she slowly and gently applied the herb and oil ointment to the bruises on Michael’s body, working her way down his chest and ribs to a bruise that continued beneath his breeches. Undoing the fastenings, she pulled down the fall of his breeches so she might loosen the garment from around his waist. Despite the slight arousal that was still quite evident beneath his drawers, Olivia was determined to apply the medication wherever he might have been punched. She pulled down his breeches and drawers, finding that, even in his apparently unconscious state, Michael seemed to help with undressing himself.

After she laid his garments aside, she stood and stared at his naked body, a bit frightened but at the same time very drawn to what she saw before her. Even in this relaxed state, his prone body seemed to exude barely contained energy. The long muscles of his thighs were evident in the relief cast by the light from a candle on the night stand. Only the tops of his collarbones were apparent; his thick chest and dark hair hid most of his ribs. His waist was not as pinched in as some of the younger men seemed to sport, but there was no hint of a belly. His arms, very large and muscled from the shoulder to the elbow, hung from broad, sloped shoulders. As her gaze followed the arms to his hands, she smiled when she thought of what it would be like to have those hands on her breasts again.

Shaking herself from her reverie, Olivia returned her attention to his wounds. The bruises did not extend much below his waist, but she quickly applied arnica where they did. When she completed her ministrations, she set aside the medication and turned to regard his manhood. The nearly engorged shaft hovered over a nest of dark curly hair while his testicles rested on his thighs. She was about to reach out and touch him when a candle guttered and went out. With only one candle left alight, she sighed and pulled the downturned bed linens and blankets from under his legs and covered him, carefully climbing into the bed and covering herself, too. At first, she dared not get close enough to touch his body, but when he stirred and turned slightly on the mattress, she was forced to allow herself to roll against him, the front of her body pressed slightly against the mostly unbruised side of his body. She gingerly lay her right arm atop his torso, her hand cupping over his manhood before she realized what she was touching. Resisting the urge to pull away, she left her hand there and wondered if he would notice. Soon, though, one of his hands lifted and covered hers, the weight of it pressing her palm down harder on the velvety skin and the curly hair. Several moments later she relaxed enough to allow sleep to take her, vaguely aware of a kiss being placed on the top of her head.

Chapter 29

Wednesday Brings Confessions

April 19, 1815

When Eloisa opened the front door to find her sister standing on her stoop, she immediately wondered as to the reason for Olivia’s visit. The look of desperation on her younger sister’s face made her look much older than her twenty-one years. Damnation! What’s wrong?

“Please, come in,” she invited, stepping aside as Olivia entered the small vestibule. “You look beautiful in that ensemble. That dark green is so becoming,” Eloisa offered, wondering if her sister had come with questions. Even accusations, perhaps. It had been seven days since Olivia’s quick wedding, nine days since Eloisa accepted Arthur Huntington’s offer of marriage. What could be wrong? “Would you like tea?” she asked, forcing lightness into the question.

“No, thank you, though,” Olivia replied with a shake of her head. “Do you have a moment so that we might ... talk?” She thought the walk to her sister’s townhouse would improve her mood and fortify her resolve to ask the questions she felt she must. Instead, it gave her more time to wonder and to imagine the worst. Her older sister had always been attracted to Michael, had always shown him favor. Now that she’d learned her husband had been Eloisa’s protector for the past year – and how he came to be her protector – Olivia was determined to discover if Eloisa still harbored feelings for him. Olivia didn’t believe she could stay married to Michael if either of them had feelings for one another, even if Michael did love her, as he claimed that morning, whispering in her ear before he eased himself from the bed and made his way to his own bedchamber in the early morning hours. Since they hadn’t yet consummated their marriage, Olivia was wondering if she could arrange for an annulment. It would be far better to walk away from the marriage now than to live with knowing the awful truth for the rest of her days. She was sure she could still secure a position as a governess. Even the Duchess of Somerset had already arranged for a governess, there were more opportunities for employment in London than in Sussex.

Eloisa sighed and nodded. “Of course,” she said as she motioned her sister to the settee in the parlor, thinking that once she was married, she and Olivia could meet like this every morning for tea and share stories of their lives. They could spend their afternoons shopping in New Bond Street and in Oxford Street, enjoy ices at Gunter’s Tea Shop in Berkeley Square, have dinner at the Clarendon Hotel. It was the life she had imagined when she’d left Sussex the year before, expecting to have employment as a governess and eventually marrying a gentleman. Although she might have mistaken the details of how she would end up married to a gentleman, she thought the end result well worth what she’d been through.

“Did you ... do you ... do you love him?” Olivia wondered, turning to face her sister, her lower lip trembling as she moved to sit down. Although she wanted to remain standing for this encounter, she found her knees unable to support her any longer. A tooth caught her lip in an effort to stave off the tears she felt pricking her eyes.

Eloisa swallowed a gasp, surprised at how forward her sister was with her question. “If you are speaking of Mr. Huntington, then, yes, Olivia, I do love him. I love him very much,” Eloisa stated with an enthusiastic nod. “Indeed, I believe I fell in love with him the moment I first met him. When you meet him, when you see us together, you’ll understand.”

Olivia frowned and nearly reconsidered why she came. “I was speaking of Michael, of course,” she clarified, her sadness suddenly replaced with impatience and a hint of anger.

Michael? Eloisa blushed a deep shade of pink as she considered her sister’s query. Although she often wondered if Olivia would eventually learn of how Cunningham had become her protector, she still had to think a moment before responding. “At one time, I believe I did feel affection for Cunningham,” she admitted in a very quiet voice, her breaths coming a bit too fast as her head bobbed nervously. How much do I tell her? “You know I did – before I ever moved to London. But, Olivia, you must believe me when I say I did not ever feel for him what I do for Mr. Huntington. Arthur is the only man I have ever loved,” she added quietly. “And I do not believe Mr. Cunningham has ever felt affection for me. Indeed, I have always thought he felt affection for you.”

Stunned at her sister’s comments, Olivia took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Oh, Eloisa,” she whispered, tears starting to well up in the corners of her eyes. If Eloisa truly had no feelings for Michael, and if he loved her as he claimed he did, then Olivia could remain married to him. “There is something you must help me with,” Olivia said as she gave Eloisa a pleading look.

Eloisa regarded her sister with a look of surprise. “Whatever it is, I will assist you in any way I can,” she promised, wondering at her sister’s request. When Olivia did not speak right away, she watched her with a raised eyebrow. “What is it?”

Sighing, Olivia blushed and closed her eyes. “Michael has yet to ... we have not yet consummated our marriage,” she whispered, the sound of her voice barely audible. “We have come close. I was sure he was going to last night, but he was so bruised ...” She shook her head. “I do not know ... I wish to know what I should do to make him bed me,” she stammered, her eyes finally locking on Eloisa’s and her cheeks turning crimson.

“Oh,” Eloisa responded, a bit of surprise in her voice. Why would her sister expect her to know about such things? Did Olivia believe she and Michael had been lovers? She repositioned herself on the settee and thought for a moment. “Well, I have always believed I must never allow a man to see me completely unclothed,” she announced loudly, a shake of her head adding force to her statement. At Olivia’s stunned expression, she gave a shrug and added, “I am quite modest and, until, well ... I rather doubt I could allow it,” she stammered with a shy smile as she turned her attention back to Olivia.

“What are you suggesting?” Olivia wondered, a look of concern appearing on her face.

Eloisa blushed bright red. “Tease him, I suppose. Pretend to be a wanton woman. Take off all of your clothes and then remove all of his and ...”

“Until I am completely naked?” Olivia whispered hoarsely, her eyebrows quite high. She swallowed hard. She had already removed all of Michael’s clothing, although certainly not in anticipation of lovemaking. And he had seen her bare breasts. He seemed quite surprised when she allowed him to stare at them. She had wondered at that, wondered at his look of awe and realized she rather liked the expression on him. His stare wasn’t lascivious or one of carnal lust but of ... appreciation? Wonder, perhaps? Instead of making her feel exposed and vulnerable, his gaze had made her feel wanted – desired, even.

Eloisa shrugged and gave her sister a quick glance. “Yes,” she answered, nodding as if to convince herself as much as Olivia. “And until he is, too.” She stopped and put a hand over her mouth. “Oh, what am I saying?” she blurted, sure Olivia would be mortified at her suggestion.

But Olivia put a hand to her own mouth and began giggling. “He has a very strong, manly body,” she spoke quietly. “I must admit, I saw all of it last night, although he is covered in those awful bruises Mr. Huntington put upon him,” she complained with a roll of her eyes. “He may even have a cracked rib!”

Eloisa hissed and shook her head. “As it is with Mr. Huntington! The two are usually just sparring partners, but when Cunningham fought with him yesterday, it was quite obvious from the damage that there was more to it than just a friendly sparring match. And all bruised like that – that will be the way Arthur is after his visits to Gentleman Jackson’s,” she added with disgust and a shake of her head.

At Olivia’s raised eyebrows, Eloisa blushed again, realizing she had given away too much with her description of Arthur’s bruised body. “I insisted he show me the wounds when he winced so badly. I had put my arms around him when he was about to leave here yesterday – to give him a farewell kiss – and ...” she shook her head and pushed an errant curl behind her ear, “I made him remove his shirt to show me what Cunningham had done to him. Under the pretext that I might have some salve that would help him heal, of course. And I kissed his bruises and ...” She sighed happily, a wistful look on her face as she stared into space and a soft pink blush spread over her face.

“You made love?” Olivia gasped quietly, a smile of embarrassment appearing along with a pink blush on her own cheeks.

Eloisa shrugged, her face turning a shade darker. “Honestly, I did not mean for it to happen, Olivia, but I knew he ... he was aroused,” she said in whisper, “And he had just given me the most exquisite necklace,” she reached over to the side table and picked up a flat, black velvet box. “And, before I knew what was happening, we were kissing, and he was carrying me to my bed, and we were saying wedding vows to one another.” She opened the box and showed Olivia a necklace of creamy white pearls, each pearl separated by a small diamond. “I felt so wanton! And yet, I am not the least bit ashamed of myself,” she claimed in a whisper. “We are to be married, after all!”

Olivia stared in awe at the string of pearls and then at her sister for a moment. “And has he seen you naked then?” she wondered, her eyebrow arching as she teased her sister.

“Every last inch of me,” Eloisa replied, a huge grin on her face. “He is a very generous lover. Very protective, very passionate. And I did not allow him to leave here until after I fed him breakfast this morning.”

Smiling still, Olivia held her sister’s hand. “And when will you wed for keeps?” she wondered. She hoped she might bear witness to her sister’s wedding.

Eloisa took a deep breath. “He has a special license so that we may wed Friday morning,” she replied happily. “He’s speaking with a vicar today about an appointment.”

Olivia sat back against the settee and grinned. “And whatever shall you wear on such short notice?”

Frowning, Eloisa regarded her sister for a moment. “Oh, dear,” she answered, her face suddenly taking on a look of doubt. “I haven’t ... I haven’t given it any consideration!”

Smiling, Olivia thought for a moment. “If you don’t mind wearing a hand-me-down, you could wear the gown I am wearing to the Harvey ball tomorrow night,” she suggested, remembering it was once supposed to be a wedding gown. “I promise I won’t spill anything on it, although I cannot promise you that someone else won’t.”

Eloisa grinned as she considered the offer. “Is it ... appropriate?” she wondered with a suggestive cock of her eyebrow.

“Oh, yes,” Olivia assured her. “Madame Suzanne was making it as a wedding gown for someone else. And your new necklace will be perfect with it, I am sure.”

Nodding, Eloisa smiled and said, “Then I accept your most generous offer.” She sighed again before wrapping her arms around her sister’s shoulders. “And please accept my congratulations on your wedding,” Eloisa added quietly. “We never really had a chance to say anything about it while I was in Shipley.”

Olivia grinned and returned the hug. “Thank you,” she murmured. “You will send word when you know what time you’ll be saying your vows?” Olivia wondered as she moved to leave.

Eloisa stood and considered her sister’s query. “Will you stand with me?” she asked suddenly. “It’s why I went to Shipley. To ask if you would stand with me.”

Beaming, Olivia nodded. “Of course, I will. I’ve nothing to wear, though,” she added with a giggle. When she saw the look of happiness on her sister’s face, she hugged her. “Come. Let’s go shopping in Oxford Street,” she suggested. “You’ll need some bride clothes for after the wedding!”

Eloisa smiled and nodded in agreement. “We both need some bride clothes,” she replied happily. Once she’d fetched her reticule and a shawl, the two sisters left for a very long shopping excursion.

“My mother is in town,” Michael commented in a low voice as he regarded Olivia. When he’d knocked on her door and peeked in at her call of “Come in,” he found her reading Pride and Prejudice in bed, her bare shoulders and arms suggesting she was naked beneath the covers. She quickly set the tome on the night stand and motioned for him to come into the room.

“Did you see her today?” Olivia asked, curious as to why he wouldn’t have mentioned it over dinner.

Michael shook his head as he made his way to the side of the bed, his dressing gown loosely tied shut. “I just received a note from her,” he replied, wondering if he dare attempt to stay in the room again that night. “It was delivered by one of the footman from the Cavendish house, so she is definitely staying there,” he added with a sigh. His gaze lowered to the bed and he fell silent.

“What is it?” Olivia wondered, seeing an odd expression cross his face. The bruises on his face from the day before were already fading so that just a hint of yellow showed on his jawline.

“I did not mean for our wedding to be such a ... slapdash affair,” Michael murmured, his tone apologetic as he stared at the blue draped fabric of the canopy above Olivia’s bed. My mother’s bed, he thought with a frown. “I hadn’t given it much thought, seeing as how I’ve known for so long that you would be my wife,” he added in a whisper, turning his head in her direction. Their evening had been very pleasant; a good dinner without Edward – the man hadn’t been seen by any of the staff since Monday night – a quiet walk in the garden after the dessert course, a glass of port in the library. And then Olivia had nearly fallen asleep in his arms as Michael held her in the large leather chair and gently caressed her nearly-healed wrist.

Olivia gasped at the odd comment and raised herself up on one elbow, the motion causing the coverlet to slide down. Very aware of a suddenly bared breast, Michael held his breath for a moment in an attempt to remain in control of himself.

“How long have you known that?” Olivia wondered, her brows knitted in a frown.

Michael sat on the edge of the bed and reached over to gently smooth the crease in her brow with the edge of his thumb. He noted how long her lashes were as she closed her eyes at his touch. “Since you were ... sixteen, I suppose,” he answered, his thumb sliding down to her temple.