“What are you doing?” she protested, half laughing, half alarmed.
“I understand,” he said, moving closer and slipping his arms around her. “And I am oversensitive, forgive me.” It was a lesson not to jump to conclusions or make mountains out of mole hills.
“Perhaps a little?” she said, peeking at him from under the brim of her hat. He wanted to toss it away and kiss her senseless. He did neither.
“Of course,” he said, moving closer and slipping his arms around her, “I shall endeavor to be lessinsensitive to your circumstances in future.”
“And less sensitive to imagined slights?” she asked, smiling, teasing, a light of relief in her eyes.She didn’t like to be in disharmony, either.
“That too,” he acknowledged with a rueful smile. She returned the smile, and he bent his head and kissed her, his heart lifting at the restoration of peace between them. He kept the kiss gentle, and she responded in kind, her hands clutching at the lapels of his jacket. He pulled her closer against him and deepened the kiss. A shout from the other side of the hedge forced him to break the kiss which had elevated his pulse and breathing and stirred his flesh to hardness once more. He simply couldn’t get enough of his wife. She was flushed and breathing quickly, too. At least in that respect they were equally affected.
“I had better return to the game,” she said.
He nodded. “And I to our guests.” But he didn’t let her go, instead diving in for another kiss, which he eventually brokelingeringly. “Until tonight,” he said softly, loosening his hold on her.
She nodded and stepped through the hedge. He gave himself a few moments to calm his pulse and restore order to his breeches before striding off for the front terrace, well pleased with the outcome of his apology.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sarah was dressingfor dinner that evening when Robert came into her room with a cursory knock. He was all but dressed himself, lacking only a neck cloth, waistcoat and jacket. Esme had just finished doing her hair and was about to help her into her gown.
“Your Grace,” said Esme, dipping him a curtsy.
“You may go Esme, I will help Her Grace finish her toilette,” he said, his eyes fixed on Sarah. His hands were held behind his back, and she wondered what he was up to.
Esme dropped a curtsy again and left the room.
Sarah turned on her dressing table seat to face him, and he came to her, dropped to one knee and held out a long slender case toward her. “I should have given you this yesterday.”
She looked at him questioningly and then opened the case. Within was a fine gold chain with a blood-red ruby heart suspended from it the size of a shilling.
“Robert!”
He smiled tentatively. “Do you like it?”
“It’s magnificent!” She stroked the ruby with a gentle finger. “Is it part of the Layne jewels?” He had given her the Layne diamond and gold necklace that went with the coronet the other day.
“No. I bought this some years ago, for my bride.” He flushed faintly. “I intended it for the mythical woman who would steal my heart. It belongs to you now.”
Sarah reeled.Was that a declaration? Do I have his heart? Was that what he’d said? Was it what he meant?Her heart skipped and thudded. Tendrils of joy escaped and danced through her veins at the notion.
“Will you wear it?”
“O-of course,” she stammered. He shifted to both knees. She turned back to the glass so that he could lay the blood-red jewel around her neck and fasten the clasp. It nestled in the cleavage of her bosom and his eyes met hers in the mirror as he wrapped his arms round her and drew her back against him. He nuzzled her neck. “It looks lovely on you; I knew it would.”
She turned, wrapping her arms round him, her heart full to bursting.
“Thank you, it’s beautiful. I—”
He cut her off with a kiss, pulling her tight against him, her dressing gown parting and her legs splaying either side of his hips. Her bare flesh pressed up against his hardened groin.
“Sarah.” His voice was a soft groan as he kissed her cheek and her mouth, one hand pressing her harder against him, the other finding a breast to squeeze and fondle.
“We’ll be late for dinner,” she panted, kissing him back.
“I don’t care.” He fumbled with the buttons of his falls, his stiffened cock springing free. He rubbed the head along her channel, and she moaned, rolling her hips, pressing closer. “Sarah please...” he panted.
“Yes.” She angled her hips, lifting her legs, and he pushed forward, sliding inside her easily. Holding her hips he thrust into her rapidly, deliciously big and hard. His thrusts rocked the stool she sat on, but she clung to him, lost in the pleasure of his member and his tongue plundering her body.
