The rumble of a coach outside caught his attention, and a moment later, his servants opened the door to admit Abigail. His breath caught at the beauty of her. She walked towards him at the tune of the organ, played by the vicar’s wife, but he barely heard the music. His own heart beat a staccato rhythm that filled his head.
She looked ethereal in a cream gown that, because of its simplicity, only seemed to emphasize the purity of her features. He was marrying the most beautiful woman he had ever met. His audacity to propose to her and go through with this crazy idea still amazed him.
She was being escorted by Lord Ardmore, her younger brother. He was a pleasant young man in his twenties, with dark hair and serious slate eyes just like Abigail’s.
Upon their engagement two weeks ago, Colin had taken it upon himself to inform her family of their nuptials. She didn’t think they would come, but her brother responded immediately to the invitation.
He had arrived yesterday, and seemed genuinely fond of her and happy to see her. He claimed he didn’t know where she had been. Apparently, their father had been intercepting their letters, and refusing to tell him any news about his sister.
He was glad her brother was back in her life. She had been alone for too long. While he would make sure she never felt unprotected ever again, she needed her own kin nearby, and her brother looked to be a good sort. Unlike the Marquess, her father, who hadn’t even bothered to respond.
Now she stood beside him, her hand in his. He barely dared to breathe, afraid to break whatever spell had convinced her to marry him. But her eyes looked at him with calm acceptance as she said her vows in a clear voice.
He must have said his vows as required, for the ceremony continued uninterrupted. He didn’t remember a thing. The ritual was a hazy kaleidoscope of disjointed images. The only memories imprinted on his brain were her loveliness and when the vicar pronounced them man and wife. His wife. She was his wife.His. He could have crowed with pride.
The lovely wedding breakfast passed in a blur, too. After that, her brother had departed with assurances of visiting again soon and after extracting a promise that she would visit him in London as well.
In his bedchamber, he discarded his coat and necktie. Soon he would visit her bed. The prospect inspired equal parts anticipation and dread.
He laughed at his own cowardice. What the hell was wrong with him? He was not an inexperienced green lad. He had made love to countless women. Carnal knowledge was an art he had cultivated and refined. He usually wielded his finely honed skill with absolute confidence.
All in an effort to please his partners. It was the least he could do for them to compensate for the disadvantages of his body. And they all seemed pleased. But none of his previous partners had been a gently bred lady.
They had been prostitutes. Well paid and skilled in the ways of providing and faking pleasure. Could they have lied to him about his prowess? What if he couldn’t please his wife, as he had promised her?
Abigail had said she didn’t want pleasure. But she had accepted him. He kept reminding himself of that fact. Whatever her reasons, however, he knew it was not out of love. And he knew she was keeping secrets and hiding fears of her own.
He ran his hands through his hair while he paced his bedchamber. Through the connecting door he could still hear the shuffling around of soft feet, the muted female voices. Her maid was still helping her to prepare for bed. For her wedding night.
He closed his eyes as he tried to imagine the scene next door. What was she thinking? How did she feel about what was about to happen between them? Did she anticipate it or fear it? Soon he would find out.
***
ABIGAIL TRIED TO LISTENfor any noise coming from her husband’s room, any sign that could indicate what he was doing, but she heard nothing. The room appeared empty, but she fancied she could feel his presence, like a hot and carnal energy emanating from him.
She wondered when he would enter her bedchamber as she kept darting glances at the connecting door. After washing and changing into a lacy negligee, she sat on the bed propped up by the pillows, awaiting her husband’s pleasure.
Nervous as a virgin.
No, not true. As a maiden, she had not been this nervous. She had thought herself in love and had been full of youthful passion and excited at the prospect of learning about carnal pleasure. She had received her first husband with enthusiasm and a clumsy eagerness to please.
And he had systematically derided her passion and beaten the eagerness out of her. Until she was just the hollow husk of the woman she had once been. Unsure how to act with a man. Afraid to abandon herself to passion. Unable to give or receive pleasure without shame.
But Colinhadmade her feel. With so little effort. Just the memory of how he had looked that day by the stream, his powerful body naked and glistening with water... She closed her eyes and drew a shaky breath. Feeling warm all over. And his kisses. They had awakened a ravening hunger she had thought long dead. But she feared that beast.
A soft knock sounded on the connecting door, jerking her from her reminiscent thoughts.
“Come in.” She called, and Colin walked in silently. He wore loose pants, and a richly patterned banyan of black silk embroidered in gold and red. He looked... exotic and only half tamed. Her stomach quivered with a mixture of trepidation and arousal.
“Hello, sweetheart.” He murmured as he entered.
As he moved into the room, he extinguished all but one candle in the candelabra on the dresser. He continued moving around extinguishing the lamps until that small single candle and the fire on the hearth were the only sources of light in the room, which wasn’t much at all, but the semi-darkness was more comfortable. Intimate.
Was he doing it for her modesty, or his? He came and sat by her on the bed. She noticed that, for the first time since they had met, he seemed unsure. Was he nervous too? The thought inspired an odd tenderness in her chest and she smiled at him, trying to reassure him.
He took her hand in his. Long fingers caressing the inside of her wrist, sending shivers of sensation up her arm.
“You are so breathtakingly beautiful, Abigail.” He said, skimming his fingers over her cheek, circling her ear with a butterfly caress. She wanted to purr under his touch.
