Page 14 of A Necessary Wife

“Lady Chatham,” he said, feeling a pang of unease over their formality, but it was for the best. He had to set things right between them and explain his reaction the night before, though he barely understood it himself. It was not every day that his head was turned by the body and kiss of a woman he barely knew. By her quick climax and gasp of pain as he’d taken her innocence. Last night, Amelia had somehow made him forget his anger and distrust of women in an explosion of feeling he’d been unprepared for. “May I join you?”

“Of course, my lord. I’ve no reason to prevent you,” she answered softly.

The continued politeness was impossible to miss. That was not a good sign. Her politeness only made him feel like a bigger fool.

He sat beside her, uneasily perched, and folded his hands in his lap. “How are you this morning?” he asked, knowing he should have asked that last night, after he had taken her innocence—something he had not considered he would do.

Rumors about Amelia’s scandal had filled his ears for years, and many whispered that she had been thoroughly ruined by her first love. He had not cared about that when he’d proposed, but somewhere deep down, he must have harbored a sliver of doubt about her innocence.

Her climax and then gasp of pain had unnerved him. But the blood on his cock and her thighs had proved that Amelia was exactly what she’d always claimed to be—the innocent party in a scandal not of her making.

“I am well. Thank you, my lord.” She inhaled, and he wondered if she would say more about the night before, but she only looked away, her attention fixed on the garden beds. “It’s pretty here.”

Amelia was pretty, too, in her own way, though he’d never tell her so. He glanced at her pale hair, neatly captured in a serviceable bun at the back of her head again. He remembered the soft, silky tresses slipping like water through his fingers the night before.

He gulped, caught off guard by unexpected eagerness at the mere thought of seeing her hair down again. “Yes. Father and the outdoor staff have worked very hard to make Stapleton into a private Eden for the family to enjoy.”

She nodded and closed her eyes as the sun came out from behind a cloud, illuminating her face. As she raised it to the warmth, for a moment, Milo was mesmerized by her calm composure, something he had noticed about her before, and often lacked himself. He shook his head to break the spell. He should not think about his new wife too much. That was not the kind of marriage they had agreed upon.

He would never follow her about like some slavishly smitten fool, as he had with his first wife. Flattering her at every turn just to see her smile. Grasping for crumbs of affection she’d doled out sparingly. He had done that once before and paid dearly for it in the end.

“I want to speak to you about last night,” he said.

She shook her head. “There’s no need to say anything. It is done. The marriage is consummated, and we can proceed with our lives as we agreed to do.”

“There is every need to discuss last night. I would not like to have any awkwardness between us next time we share a bed.” He paused a moment, searching for the right words to express his regret. “I did not react the way I ought to have done. After.”

“What are near strangers supposed to say to each other after being intimate for the first time?” She smiled slightly. “It was no worse than I had imagined, and quite a deal better.”

He frowned. “You thought it could be worse?”

“I was satisfied with the bedding, even though you were not keen. Now that it is over, we don’t have to speak of it again. You are free to seek comfort elsewhere as you see fit.”

His eyes widened at her offer. “Why would I seek comfort elsewhere?”

“Do not believe me so sheltered that I don’t know the ways of the ton and the unspoken rules of lovers. If a married man is unhappy with his choice of wife, he will always seek solace elsewhere. Wives sometimes, too.” She winced. “It is all very well to make a marriage of convenience, but quite another to forego the pleasures of the flesh entirely for some.”

A wave of dread filled him. “What are you saying? Do you wish to take lovers yourself?”

“Gracious, no! I have no intention of ever doing so. But if you prefer making love to prettier women, I will not make a fuss.”

He cursed under his breath and studied her with quite a bit of shock. He inched closer. “You believed that I would be unfaithful to you from the moment I proposed, didn’t you?”

“Men will always want someone younger and more appealing. It was not as if you enjoyed last night, my lord. You could not wait to leave the room.”

He groaned out loud. He had promised to return to the party, but that hadn’t been what made him rush away from Amelia lying naked in his bed. “It was not that I didn’t enjoy it. It was the surprise of feeling so much again.”

Amelia shook her head. “Please, don’t lie to me. I will not tolerate being deceived about my appeal yet again.”

He shook his head now. “I am not lying. But I freely admit I don’t understand my reaction to you last night, even now. When my wife betrayed me, I swore I would never be led by my emotions again.”

She gave him a look that suggested her patience was wearing thin.

“That is not to say that I did not take lovers after her death.” He paused when she nodded, realizing she must have already known. “But they were always fleeting unions without any emotional attachment to the woman.”

She grew still.

“Being with you was not like being with them,” he continued, knowing that by admitting to so much, he was likely digging himself a hole from which he might never escape. Wives did not generally like to hear their husbands had spent time with courtesans. “You are the woman I will spend the rest of my life with, and even though I do not feel passionate love for you, and you do not feel it for me either, it is… it was different between us. I was not prepared for how good it felt, to be honest. And I am ashamed to say that panic set in. Can you forgive me for not being a better husband and lover?”