Page 76 of The Thorn and the Rose

“Oh!” she cried with delight. “Oh, Thorn, how… how utterly charming.”

Thorn grinned, pleased with her reaction. It had been his mother’s suggestion, and he’d known at once the little thatched cottage was the perfect romantic setting for their wedding night. Now, dusted with snow and the leaded windows glowing with the promise of a warm welcome, he knew he’d been right.

Helping Rosemarie down from the carriage, he swept her into his arms and carried her to the front door as the carriage drove discreetly away. Everything they needed for a prolonged stay was already within, and no one would disturb them.

“You’ll have to turn the handle, love,” he told her, struggling a little to bend himself double under the low lintel and carry his new bride over the threshold.

He set her down inside and closed the door on the freezing night as the sound of a crackling fire reached them. Thorn led her into the cosy little parlour with thick rugs on the floor and lots of comfortable overstuffed furniture. Moving to the window, he drew the curtains upon the snowy scene beyond, and turned back to face her.

“It’s perfect,” she whispered. “Thank you, Thorn. Thank you for… oh, for everything, but most especially for not giving up on me. I had no right to expect you to be so very patient, and so understanding, but you really are the best man in the whole world, and I love you, so very much.”

Thorn went to her and pulled her into his arms. “So long as the waiting is over now, you have nothing to thank me for. I was bewitched, the very first time I laid eyes on you. I might not have realised it at the time, but that was it, Marie. My heart knew even if I took a while to catch up. You’ve made me the happiest of men.”

“Then let me make you happier still,” she whispered, stroking her hands down his chest. “To make up for all that patience.”

“You’ll find no argument here,” he replied, tugging at the ribbons of her bonnet and casting it aside. She laughed and stripped off her gloves, and they helped each other, tugging off coats and undoing buttons.

“We’d best go upstairs,” Thorn began, thinking of the large, comfortable bed waiting for them, but Rosemarie pressed her lips to his, tugging his shirt free of his trousers and suddenly that seemed more pressing than climbing the stairs. His fingers moved to the fastenings on her gown, suddenly numb and clumsy in his haste to free her of her beautiful wedding dress.

At last it sagged, the weight of the heavy skirts pulling it down, and Rosemarie stepped out of it. The heavy crinoline went next, and a mind-boggling number of petticoats, until she was finally standing in her chemise and corset.

Thorn gazed up at her from his position, knelt on the floor, his heart thundering.

“A good job this rug is good and thick,” he murmured, feeling a little lightheaded.

She tilted her head, staring down at him quizzically. “Why… oh!”

Rosemarie tumbled into his arms with a squeal and then laughter as he held her fast, laying her gently down before the fire.

“Because I’m out of patience, love,” he said, proving his words by tugging at her corset strings and divesting her of it in record time. “I’ve waited too long,” he added, turning his attention to her chemise, which he almost cast in the fire, such was his distraction at the vision laid out before him.

Only her stockings remained, and garters embellished with tiny yellow ribbons. Thorn swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

“Lovely,” he managed, his voice husky with desire. “The loveliest thing I ever saw in my life.”

“So are you,” she said, her cheeks pink.

“You’ve not seen anything yet,” he retorted, laughing.

“Yes, I have,” she admitted, blushing harder.

Thorn studied her for a moment. “Ah,” he said, understanding. “It was you who undressed me?”

She shook her head. “No, Everett did that, but… but I had to tend your wounds. I think he was worried he had gone too far and… well, anyway. He cared little for my reputation or my sensibilities by then and… oh, Thorn, even bruised as you were, I thought you beautiful, and I wept for the pain we had caused you.”

“Enough,” he said gently, sensing her distress over the memory of those days. “The past is dead and gone. Come and discover me for yourself, whole and in perfect health, and entirely yours.”

He stripped off his shirt, enjoying the obvious admiration in her eyes as he did so. The rest he disposed of as fast as he could, casting shoes and trousers in an untidy heap on top of his shirt, and there they could stay, for there would be no staff to disturb them unless Thorn summoned them himself.

He lay down beside her, his fingers tracing up and down over her hip as she turned to face him.

“See, good as new,” he said, smiling as she reached out a tentative hand and touched the golden hair on his chest. Her hand moved down, making his muscles leap as it her light touch tickled his belly and then moved up again.

“Tease,” he murmured, getting a shy but amused smile in return. “Try again.”

Biting her lip, Rosemarie did as he asked, trailing her hand down his body. His breath caught and held as she dared to touch the most sensitive part of him, his arousal blatant and twitching with impatience. She curved her fingers around him carefully, her touch too light and destroying what remained of his patience.

“Like this,” he told her gently, covering her hand with his, his grasp firmer as he showed her the way to caress him.