Page 51 of Earl, Enemy, Husband?

He couldn’t recall ever being so completely undone. He’d think about it later. He just felt so bloody tired.

He let the darkness take him down.

Chapter Eleven

When Florence opened her eyes it took her a moment to remember, until she realised she was naked. Then it all came flooding back: the awful sounds she had made; the thrashing about; the dreadful silence afterwards when he had lain like a log and said nothing. Had he been as shocked as her?

Mortified, she stared up at the canopy, scarcely seeing the pattern she had thought so elegant. Was what had happened normal? She didn’t think so. Mrs Pole’s advice had been to close her eyes and think about menus. Not that Florence had asked her for advice, but she’d received it anyway. She’d also said not to make a fuss and bother as it might irritate her husband. According to Mrs Pole, men thought of themselves as stallions.

Florence had seen stallions breeding. It was usually a short and violent encounter.

When Florence had questioned her, Lilian had laughed and said the babies made it all worthwhile.

Albert… Ugh she didn’t want to think about Albert. He certainly hadn’t done any of the things that Graydon had done, the touching and kissing that caused her to feel all those unbelievable sensations. His activities had been furtive and painful. Thinking about menus might have helped then. But she’d been so besotted she would have put up with anything to make him happy.

Had she annoyed Graydon, as Mrs Pole had suggested she might? She didn’t know. He’d left quietly a long while later, and had said nothing. She had been waiting for him to say something. She had sensed him leaning over her before he arose but, coward that she was, she had pretended to be asleep. He’d picked up his robe and crept out.

She thumped her pillow. She’d made a mull of the whole thing. Well, she would just have to do better next time. If there was a next time. Perhaps if she avoided him for a couple of days he would forget all about it…

Oh, no! Today she was to have her first driving lesson. Her own carriage would not be ready for a few days, but Graydon had suggested she practise in his. They were to go to Hyde Park early before too many people were around.

Perhaps she should back out, say she was ill. More cowardice.

Cole bustled in with her tray. ‘Good morning, my lady. I gather we are driving in the park today.’

Now was her chance. No, she would not be a coward. If there was a problem, let him tell her so.

‘Yes. Please lay out my riding habit.’ She settled down to eat her breakfast. She took her first bite of toast. Goodness, she was starving.

Later, dressed and ready, and only a few minutes later than she had promised, she arrived downstairs to find Powell in the hall.

‘His lordship went to bring the carriage around, my lady.’

‘Thank you.’ She pulled on her driving gloves.

One of the footmen opened the door from the outside.

‘His lordship has arrived,’ he said to Powell, and then saw Florence standing there and stood back to permit her to pass.

The wind was brisk, and the sky overcast, but the clouds were high and it did not look like it would rain. A variety of people travelled the street—hawkers, women who looked like housekeepers or cooks carrying baskets, a milkman crying his wares.

Graydon came to meet her, while a groom held the horses’ heads. He looked handsome and somehow more imposing than usual, in his black caped driving coat and top hat, with only the white of his cravat to relieve the severity of his dress. His gaze focussed on her intently as he took her arm. ‘I thought you might back out this morning.’

Oh dear. Perhaps she should have. She took a deep breath. ‘Why would I?’

He did not answer.

She ploughed on through his silence. ‘You wanted me to learn as soon as possible.’

‘I did. I do. I will drive through the traffic and hand the reins over to you when we are in Hyde Park.’

She nodded and he helped her climb up and came round to take the reins on the other side. At a nod from him, the groom released the horses’ heads and he eased them away from the kerb.

The groom jumped up behind them.

‘You don’t need to be concerned about driving this team,’ Graydon said, negotiating a coalman’s dray and an oncoming farmer’s cart. ‘I had Stuart take them out first thing to work out any fidgets.’

‘That was thoughtful of you.’