She pushed his fumbling fingers away but had no better luck than he had, and grabbing both sides of the gown, ripped apart the fine muslin fabric.
For several long moments he could only stare at her as full, dark-tipped breasts greeted him. Finally he found his voice again. “Oh God! You are gorgeous.”
A blush rose in Silvia’s cheeks. Not as worldly as she thought she was. All the better for him. He stroked her back, over her lush bottom, and smiled as she moaned. He nibbled her full, deep-rose bottom lip, encouraging her to open for him. When she figured out what he wanted, he dived in, exploring the warm cavity. Soon their tongues were dancing and battling. This is how it would always be with them.
Sweeping her into his arms, he threw her onto the bed and jumped in after her. Suddenly, it creaked ominously.
“Nick, I think we should go to another room.”
“It will be fine. Kiss me.”
The next thing he knew the mattress, with them on top, collapsed to the floor. “Damn, blasted thing.”
“Watch your language.”
Then the sound of wood popping shot through the air. “Damn!”
Grabbing Silvia, Nick rolled them off the bed just before the heavy wooden canopy came crashing down.
For a moment she was so still he thought she’d been injured. “Silvia, talk to me.”
“Truly.” Her tone was so calm it almost scared him. “Nicholas Beresford, you do not wish to know what I would say.”
“No.” He grimaced. “You’re probably right.”
Sun streamed through the window, and someone started pounding on the door. “My lord, is everything all right?”
Blackford. His butler.
“Give me a minute.” Nick rummaged in his wardrobe and found a robe for Silvia, then donned his breeches. “Come.”
The door opened a crack at first. Blackford’s eyes widened. “What happened?”
“The blasted bed crashed, that’s what happened.” Nicholas raked his fingers through his hair. “Did you or anyone else bother to inspect this furniture in the past twenty years?”
Looking affronted, his butler replied, “That is the housekeeper’s job, my lord.”
“Where the devil is she?”
“We haven’t had one since Mrs. Murray went to live with her daughter.”
“When was that?”
“Before the old lord stopped coming to Town.”
Silvia began to laugh. “Nick, how could you not notice you had no housekeeper?”
“I don’t know,” he muttered. “I’ve never had to bother with one before. My mother always dealt with them.”
Casting her eyes to the ceiling, Silvia shook her head. “Blackford, which of the bedchambers are fit for use?”
“This is the only one left on this floor.”
“I’m going to murder someone.” Nick was rapidly losing control of his temper. “Why the devil didn’t you tell me?”
His butler straightened. “It is not—”
“Your job.” He strode over to the window before he said something he shouldn’t. Why of all times did the bloody bed have to break on his wedding day? Part of the fallen canopy caught his eye. “Worms. I wonder how much of the furniture is rotten?”
