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He reached down a finger to glide over her clit, and the second he did, she came, all at once, clenching and shuddering beneath him. Her orgasm ignited his own release. It was nirvana to pleasure her, to feel her body tense up, to hear her cries. He felt his own need bubble up and overflow like wine from a cask. Her glorious response pushed him over the edge where he could embrace the end he sought so desperately. With a shout and a hiss and a gush of hot seed he melded into her and, for one brilliant instant, knew absolute heaven.
About an hour later she was languid and sleepy in his arms—a well-ridden, thoroughly sated, and stunningly sensual woman. Her blindfold long removed, she had crawled up on him, her head at his chest where she kissed and trailed her sweet lips up to his jaw and his shoulders.
He thought about all that he had known about her before and all that he knew about her now. Darius was happy to realize he’d been correct in predicting the passion in her. His Marianne was a siren in bed. She was also affectionate, and he adored her touches and gestures. After they made love like this, he liked to hold her close against his body, kissing and stroking over her skin. Whenever she did the same to him, his heart swelled. Marianne made him feel victorious, like a warrior, strong and powerful. But there were many facets to her, and in some ways she was more of a mystery now than before. He sensed a kind of darkness in Marianne and that was a concern. Darius knew his feelings for her were growing stronger with each passing day, and with those feelings, the urge to protect and secure her happiness however he could.
“Cara, why did you seem sad when Lord Rothvale asked you about your drawings?”
“Did I?”
“Yes. To me you did. And he even patted your hand to console you a little, it looked like. Why does drawing the sea make you melancholy?”
She sucked in a quick breath before answering. “I think it’s because the sea is so demanding.”
“Demanding?” Her explanation struck him as odd. “In what way?”
“No matter where I go, the sea calls to me, and it has for a long time. I cannot get away from the pull of the waves, and I fear it will always be so. Somehow, capturing one moment of time depicted in a seascape is soothing for me. That’s why I only draw the—” She shook her head and looked at him. “Enough about that. I want to talk about you. Lord Rothvale is serious about you making a run for the House of Commons, and I think he is right. You would be very good, Darius…”
He smiled and kissed the top of her head, thinking about how she’d just avoided his questions so neatly. Marianne was loving and kind and attentive. He could not fault her a
s a wife in regards to how she embraced her many duties and responded to him. And he believed her sincere. So why then was there this persistent nag in the back of his mind telling him that Marianne wasn’t being completely honest?
13th July, 1837
Darius is getting closer to my secret. He wanted to know why I seemed melancholy when Lord Rothvale asked me the question about my drawing. How can I tell him the truth? And if I do, will his good opinion of me be lost? I cannot bear the idea. It hurts me too greatly to contemplate.
MG
CHAPTER 12
The Gift
A week passed before he said it again.
Marianne searched in all of the usual places. She’d come to her study to review the housekeeping accounts, but the books weren’t here. Her desk had been rearranged as well. Very odd. She would inquire to Mrs. West and get to the bottom of the mystery. Shuffling through another drawer in her quest, she didn’t hear him come in.
“Looking for something, my darling?”
“Oh, Darius. Yes, actually. I came up here to review the accounts, but I cannot find the housekeeping books. They are nowhere in this room that I can see, and someone’s been fumbling around my desk.”
“Well that’s no good at all. We must find the culprit and see to a swift punishment.” He walked over and pulled her up.
Marianne knew he was up to something as soon as he started in on the teasing. She could smell it on him.
“What do you know, Darius?”
“Only that your neck flushes when you get frustrated.” He smirked. “And you get a little crease, right here, between your eyes.” He brushed the place with his lips.
“Well, yes I’m frustrated—I cannot find the books!”
“Oh, I’m sure they’ll turn up, Marianne. Probably sooner than you think. These things have a way of working out.” He waved a hand in dismissal.
She observed him carefully. He looked very smug and rather devious. “Did you want…something, Darius? You know, when you came in here?”
“I s’pose a kiss would be nice, but that’s not why I came to find you. Actually I am in need of your opinion on something. Will you come and let me show you?” He held out his hand, a definite leer of mischievousness above that firm jaw.
She took his offered hand and let him lead her down the corridor and into the south wing of the house. He stopped them at a door near the end of the hall.
“What I want you to see is in here.” He smiled knowingly. “Now close your eyes.”
