“Harriet!” He groaned again, sitting upright. She looked chastised and he felt rather horrid, but distance was paramount to her chastity. “It’s just, all this talk makes it harder—more difficult—for me not to come.”
“You can if you want to. I don’t mind! I find I’m rather interested.”
“I’m to be a clinical specimen for you, then?”
“I’m simply curious, and surely it would feel nice for you! So, I could help; we’re friends after all! You did say it felt better with others.” At his hesitation, Harriet filled in the discomfort with what else? Words.
“Oh, no, of course not,” she continued. “You must think me rather foolish.” She looked sheepish again. He enjoyed her blushing innocence, but not her lack of faith in her own desirability. It was so at odds with the confidence she displayed in every other part of her life. “I’m sure you’re used to much more experienced partners, aren’t you? And I have no rightful idea what I’m doing.”
“I assure you any ignorance on your part has proven to be quite the boon for me. I will not complain about your lack of schooling in these matters when it has benefited me most wondrously.” He leaned over and placed a kiss on the top of her head. What possessed him to do so, he had no idea. The act was not how he ended things with bedfellows. Or anyone. Had he ever kissed someone’s forehead? It was startling.
He was quite in danger around Harriet. They’d agreed this marriage was a false one; he couldn’t be a true husband, one she deserved. Thus, he certainly couldn’t let her take him in her mouth. He swung his legs down from her bed and stood, adjusting himself in his breeches, which did not escape her gaze. The first order of business upon returning to his rooms was taking care of himself.
“I do thank you for your help,” Harriet said, almost primly, from the bed, “although I would still like to learn for my own sake. I can’t just call on you every time I need relief.”
“On the contrary, I’m hoping you do precisely that.”
“What if you were indisposed?”
“I vow I am never too busy to help with that. Please bother me day or night.”
“What if you were traveling for business? Or sick? What about when you die?”
“Killing me off already? Not to worry, I’m sure you’ll find many willing volunteers after this tragic death you have planned for me,” he jested. They were friends after all; friends jested.
“I will wait the proper mourning period, I promise.”
“Before you take an ad out in the paper about getting your quim licked?”
“Seeking: Someone to replace dearly departed husband. Quim licking only. Position not paid, unfortunately. Living on widow’s portion.”
He laughed heartily. Alexander found himself wanting to stay in her room longer. Only there was nothing left to do. Or say. His duty was done. Perhaps it was this pathetic desire for more of her company that led him to ask: “Would you go to the Henderson ball with me next week?”
Harriet looked startled at the prospect. “You know I can’t—I can’t dance.”
“I’m intimately aware.”
“And you want me to go with you? As your wife?”
“It would look rather odd if you went with me as anything else.”
She smiled up at him. “All right, then. I’ll go.” But her face fell almost immediately.
“Regretting your decision already?” he teased lightly, even as he held his breath for her response.
“Oh no, it’s just … well, I have nothing to wear to a ball. Nothing that would be suitable for your … wife.” She swallowed the word, as if she was embarrassed to say it. “Regrettably, Philippa’s dress is quite the worse for wear. In fact, I’m not certain where my lady’s maid has it. She is attempting some alterations.”
If that lady’s maid valued her job, she would beverycareful not to alter that dress too much. Alexander would make sure of that. After a distracted moment, he pulled himself together enough to respond. “I will make arrangements for a dress.”
“You will?” She seemed dubious. He wasn’t used to people doubting his abilities.
“I will.”
She looked quite satisfied, and he had the feeling, self-aggrandizing though it may be, thathe’dmade her feel that way. Thathe’dpleased her. The idea alone made him feel lighter than he had in ages. He was almost at the door of his dressing room when she called out to him.
“Thank you again. I’m glad we’re friends.”
He laughed lightly.Friends, indeed. He’d never wanted to bite the buttons off his friends’ clothing.
