Page 61 of A Contracted Spouse for the Prizefighter

“To get my hair.”

“Don’t bother. Leave it.”

She stopped in her tracks to look at him in surprise. “Very well,” she said agreeably, turning back. “But don’t let me forget to put it in before dinner. Felix would be very shocked, I fear.” She gave a gurgle of laughter as she climbed onto the bed to rest beside him. “Mrs. Cherwell thought I must have had an unfortunate accident—”

She did not get to complete her sentence, for Clem seized hold of her and kissed her as though he had been passionately longing to, which of course, he had. Dora, after only the smallest of pauses, passed her arms about his neck and reciprocated with gratifying enthusiasm.

As he had rolled over her, Dora clearly thought her move was to respond in kind, so they ended up rolling to and fro and grappling with each other in a haphazard fashion which had Clem’s misbehaving heart almost jumping out of his chest, along with other parts of his anatomy.

By the time he pulled back from their tussle to stare at her flushed face, the covers were hanging off the bed and both pillows had been knocked to the floor.

“I think you must have missed me today,” Dora panted with a breathless laugh, which should have been like a splash of cold water, but fuck it, he had missed her, he realized, feeling dazed.

“Maybe,” he answered cautiously. “What about you?” Her eyes flickered up, as though she was considering this. What the fuck? He should be incensed, he realized, but instead, he felt slightly anxious. Her reply was a sudden blinding smile and a nod, and Clem couldn’t help it; he crushed her to him again with a groan. “Dora,” he murmured, nibbling on her bottom lip and then pulling back. “I got the preventative today.”

“You did?”

“It’s over there on the dresser. When she made to get up and fetch it, Clem released her without an outward show of the reluctance he felt. He watched her peer into the box. “It’s more rubbery than spongelike in texture,” she said in surprise, before drawing out the tiny, smudged card.

She gave a slow nod as she read it through. “Have you used something like this before?” she asked, just as he had known she would.

He had to force himself not to tense. “Yes, or something like it.” It was ridiculous to feel so uptight when Dora was being so matter-of-fact about it. What the fuck was his problem? “There are a few different ones available,” he added scratching his neck. “If you don’t get on with this one, we can get another.”

Dora nodded again. “Well, it seems straightforward enough. Should I try it out for size?” When he nodded, she headed promptly for a lacquered screen she had against the far wall.

Clem rolled onto his back and slipped a hand under his head, gazing up at the ceiling. Likely he was making too much of this whole business and she would soon change her mind. This so-called career of hers was not going to last past a disastrous debut.

Maybe a baby or two would satisfy her just as well as a stage career. He wondered what kind of mother Dora would make. He could not really imagine it though. Any more than him as a father. No, it was probably better they were going to wait until they were both ready for such a thing.

“How often should I put this in?” her muffled voice asked from behind the screen. When he did not answer at once, she clarified, “Or do I just check with you of an evening?” Clem was still debating his response when her reappearance forestalled him. “All done,” she said brightly, one hand still clutching the screen.

She was now clad only in her chemise and drawers which were the plainest undergarments Clem had seen on a woman. There was absolutely no reason why his chest should be pounding like a drum. “Is it … comfortable?” he asked, rolling onto his side to look at her.

She nodded. “I can’t feel it at all now it’s in. Though,” she bit her lip, “there is a ribbon hanging down. You might find it a little off-putting.”

He smiled wolfishly. “I doubt that, very much.” He patted the bed. “Come here. Let me take a look.”

She flushed, but joined him on the bed quickly enough, getting onto her knees and pushing down her drawers to show him. Something about the matter-of-fact way she revealed her bare thighs and pussy to him made him catch his breath. She had such trust in him; he felt a sort of tightness in his chest.

He ran a thumb down the thin white ribbon resting against her bare thigh. “Not remotely off-putting,” he said huskily, his eyes riveted to where the ribbon disappeared into her dark curls. “Though I am very intrigued to find where this leads.” He leaned forward and dropped a lingering kiss next to the ribbon and she caught her breath.

“Clem!” she whispered. “You know very well where it leads. What time is it now?”

He turned his head and reached for his pocket watch which he had discarded onto the side table. “Quarter to six.”

“We only have fifteen minutes before dinner. I should not like us to be late after Mrs. Cherwell has been so obliging today.”

“Has she been obliging?” Clem asked dryly as he dropped a last regretful kiss to her soft inner thigh before gently tugging up her drawers and refastening the drawstring. He needed longer than fifteen minutes when all was said and done.

“Oh yes, she made me fresh scones for Lil’s visit and luncheon too. Nothing was too much trouble.” She clambered off the bed, but instead of donning her striped dress again, she drew a heavy velvet robe from her wardrobe with lots of tassels and drew it over her head. To Clem’s eye, it made her look as though she was about to go onstage as a medieval witch, but he supposed it was warm at any rate.

“Don’t forget your hair,” he reminded her, though why Fields and Allsop should be spared the sight of her exposed neck he did not know. Of course, she did have an attractive nape, he reflected some minutes later as he followed her down the stairs. Graceful. Even her peculiar garb did not detract from it altogether. On second thought, maybe it was a good thing she only bared it around him.

Clem was distracted all through dinner, though he made short work of Mrs. Cherwell’s capon in white sauce with attendant roasted vegetables. As there were plenty of leftovers from the previous night, he supposed she was making a point by serving a cooked meal from scratch.

Fields certainly seemed gratified, but as Mrs. Cherwell either ignored or talked loudly over whatever comment he attempted, it soon became apparent that she bore a grudge. Allsop was quiet, but that was nothing new, so Dora valiantly kept up a bright trickle of conversation. She managed this with a little help from him and a lot of help from the housekeeper, who found lots of reasons to remain in the dining room for the duration of dinner.

Clem found he sorely missed the tete-a-tete meals he and Dora had shared these past few weeks. He was glad to make his escape at the close of the meal, declining his brother-in-law’s hesitant offer of a glass of claret following dinner.