Page 127 of Regency Whispers: Scandalous Matches

She pressed her lips together, wishing she could find the words to tell him how she felt, how it hurt to have him stand here and tell her that, despite the fact they were married and they both desired one another and cared for one another, he could not allow himself to build a mutually loving relationship with her. She should reject his unspoken proposal, but she thought of how her body craved his touch, of how happy she had felt in the moments of their lovemaking.

She had entered into this marriage after Simon had told her he would be dead within the year and she would be free to marry a man of her choosing, a man who could love her. That wasn’t going to happen now, and if the doctors had got things wrong it might never be the case. She had forty years of marriage stretching out in front of her with a man who could not love her, and she could not seek that comfort elsewhere. At least if they had a physical relationship, she could slake some of her craving for intimacy with Simon’s touch.

‘We continue as before,’ Alice said, decisively. ‘Companionship, friendship, they are our focus, but with the added benefit of sharing a bed whenever we both choose.’

‘You would be comfortable with that arrangement?’

‘We are married. There is nothing wrong with it,’ Alice said firmly. ‘We are both adults with desires and needs, and I think it safe to say we both find the other attractive.’

‘Indeed,’ Simon murmured.

‘Then, it is settled. I know not to expect a declaration of love from you, and you are happy to give me the freedom I have enjoyed for the last year to make my own decisions.’

‘I feel as though we should shake hands,’ Simon murmured.

‘There is no need for that,’ Alice said quickly. Despite the agreement she had just proposed, she felt as though she needed some privacy to pull apart what she had just agreed to. It was all very well telling Simon that she would not develop feelings for him, but if she were honest she was well past halfway to loving him already, flaws and all. ‘Now, I need to wash and dress. Could you ring the bell for my lady’s maid?’

Chapter Seventeen

It was growing dark when they stepped out of the carriage in front of Mr and Mrs Hampshire’s house, Simon offering her his arm. Alice felt the spark that flowed between them as her body brushed against his and quickly tried to quell it. She’d spent the day trying to persuade herself she hadn’t made the biggest mistake of her life, and now she was beginning to believe their decision might actually be for the best.

Simon had been attentive on the carriage ride to the Hampshires after a note had arrived that afternoon, inviting him to join the dinner party, and Alice was enjoying his company. For the past year she had always had to arrive alone at events like this, and it was pleasant to walk in on her husband’s arm.

It was not to be a large affair, and in the drawing room Mrs Livingstone ensured they both had a drink before dinner. There were five other guests, all people Alice knew fairly well, including Lady Kennington and her husband, and a wealthy couple in their forties who had moved to London from Bath a year earlier with their eighteen-year-old daughter, Emma.

‘Emma is going to play for us,’ Mrs Hampshire announced, showing Alice and Simon to a small sofa to listen.

Emma Finn was a talented pianist, and she played a few pieces perfectly with no music in front of her. Alice found herself relaxing, sinking back into the cushions of the sofa and into her husband. Simon had an arm behind her, resting on the back of the sofa, but after a minute she felt his fingers gently caressing her neck. At first it was an occasional touch, a gentle stroke as she shifted in her seat, but as the other guests became focussed on Emma at the piano, his touch became bolder, and he began tracing circles on the soft skin of her neck, just below her ear.

Alice felt as though every inch of her skin was taut with anticipation, and as his touch intensified she could not follow the music. All she could think about was Simon’s fingers dancing over her skin, imagining him dipping lower.

All too soon the music finished, and Alice had to shake herself from the daze she found herself in.

They were not seated next to each other at dinner, as was the custom, but Alice found it hard to concentrate on anything but the fleeting glances she shared with Simon across the table. He was directly opposite her, and she had to keep reminding herself it was not polite to just stare longingly at her husband all evening. She’d had her reservations about their new arrangement, but trying to bury her attraction for him would have been futile.

‘What did you think of St Benedict’s?’ Lady Kennington asked her as the main courses were brought out. Alice started to answer and then felt Simon’s foot tap her own under the table. She forced herself to concentrate.

‘It is well-run. I liked Mrs Phillips, the matron. She seemed sensible and kind, and the children were polite and clean. But the orphanage was in a dire state, and I think they have very little funds available to them.’

‘It is a good cause, is it not?’

‘Very good. I have asked Mrs Phillips to put some thought into what she feels would be helpful from the London Ladies’ Benevolent Society.’ Alice was about to say more, but Simon was gently caressing her leg with his foot, and she was finding it difficult to concentrate.

‘Are you feeling well, Lady Westcroft?’ Lady Kennington enquired.

‘A little warm, that is all,’ Alice said quickly, resolutely not looking at her husband.

The rest of dinner followed in much the same way, with Alice trying to concentrate on the conversation around the table but being unable to think of anything but the man sitting across from her, imagining he was pushing her back onto the bed and making love to her. It felt like the meal went on for ages, and Alice was pleased when it was time to move back to the drawing room, with the men moving to another downstairs room for drinks and cards. After a minute of listening to Miss Finn on the piano, she quietly excused herself, muttering something about the ladies’ retiring room. In truth she needed some time to herself.

There were candles lit in the hall, but it was dark compared to the drawing room, and as Alice made her way to the stairs she did not even think to look in the dark corners. She gasped as a figure stepped out from the shadows by the stairs, gripping her by the wrists and pressing her against the wall.

‘Simon,’ she whispered, her heart pounding.

‘You mean to torture me,’ he murmured in her ear.

‘Torture you?’

‘You look ravishing tonight, and all I can think about...’ He kissed her neck, making Alice gasp. ‘You bring me somewhere I cannot touch you. I cannot even sit next to you.’