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Trying to control her breathing, Araminta pulled her dress over her head and dropped it onto the floor, where it pooled into a puddle of pink silk. Turning, her expression blazing, she stamped her foot but was silent.
“Now your petticoat.”
Araminta felt her mouth drop open and began to protest. But she did as he requested. He wanted to humiliate her. Well, let him have his sport. She was helpless, but while she would remove her gown, she would go no farther.
“Your stays, my lady? Go on. Unlace those. Do it slowly, so that I might see better. As I’ve seen it every night in my dreams. That’s right. And now your chemise.”
“What?!”
“Your chemise. I want to see your skin glow like alabaster in the lamplight. Like I imagine. Ah.” He exhaled on a sigh of appreciation when she was naked and standing in the center of the floor in just her stockings.
“Even after the birth of my child, you are every bit as beautiful as I remember.” Slowly he began to circle her, reaching out, almost trailing his hand over her skin, but not quite touching her. His eyes were glazed with rapture, and he blinked rapidly.
Araminta saw after a few moments that he was crying. Horrified, she watched him drop to his knees, his arms encircling her as he buried his face in her belly and wept. “I loved you, Araminta. I’d have gone to the ends of the world and back to have made you mine. But you betrayed me. Betrayed me with my uncle who now calls himself the father of my child.”
“It’s...it’s not your child.”
He raised soulful eyes. “How do you know that? It is impossible to know that since you slept with me one night and my uncle the next and nine months later bore a child. But I was first, Araminta. That is what I base my belief upon. I was your first lover, and I should have been your husband.” He pushed his head into the softness of her belly once more and inhaled deeply. “You smell so good, Araminta. God, you do not know what this restraint costs me.”
To Araminta’s horror, she saw when he finally rose, evidence of his violent erection and put her hand to her mouth.
Offended, he whispered, “There’s no need for you to make your aversion quite so plain. Though once it was different. Once I was the man you sought in the most unladylike fashion. And so it is time for me to leave you...” he turned, stooping to pick up her gown which he draped over his arm, adding “...in a most unladylike fashion.”
***
Horrified, Araminta stared at the door. She was trapped, and Araminta had no idea what to do. The door was unlocked and she was free to leave, but Mr. Woking had taken her ball gown, and a lady in chemise and petticoat could go nowhere.
After a few minutes of frantic dashing from one side of the room to the other, turning over cushions in the hope something would yield inspiration as to how to extricate her from this nightmare, she collapsed onto the banquette, sobbing.
How could her husband’s own nephew humiliate her so? One day, she would find a means to take her revenge, and she would take great pleasure in plotting the villain’s downfall, but right now, Araminta was at the complete mercy of fate.
And that arrived in the form of more crunching footsteps preceding the arrival of another visitor.
Lord Ludbridge? she thought hopefully. Perhaps he’d remembered their last time here, and might imagine of his own volition that this is where he would find Araminta, once he’d discovered her gone from the riverside tent.
Her heart whistled into her throat at the very thought, and she arranged herself with careful nonchalance along the banquette. She’d concoct a story of how her gown went missing—she could say she slipped and fell in the river, and in order to save her life, she had to remove it underwater before it drowned her in its water-logged folds and dragged her under. The nearest place to find warmth and succor had been the rotunda. Teddy would believe her. He’d be so desperately concerned, and then he’d help her. That’s why she loved Teddy so much. He always recognized the best in her.
And even if he’d abandoned her eight months ago, right now just when she needed him most, at least he was here now—her knight in shining armor, coming to her rescue.
The footsteps drew closer, the tap of leather upon the polished marble portico stairs sending Araminta’s heart into freefall. Soon he would enfold her in his arms. She could drown in the sensation of finally being united in body and soul with the man she loved. It concerned her that the Queen Anne’s Lace seeds that Mrs. Mobbs told her she must take to prevent conception were now scattered to the winds. Yet surely it was unlikely that anything would come of the encounter she was anticipating so fervently when it was only six weeks after the birth of her child. She thought of her own marital experiences and decided she’d somehow indicate her desire that he withdraw early before he spilled his seed. The idea of another pregnancy horrified her, even if it was a consequence of making love with the one true man she’d ever met.
The doorknob turned. She put her hand to her heart and drew in a shaking breath as slowly, on creaking hinges, the door opened.
“What a sight for sore eyes,” came a low growl, full of desire. “Well, well, you said you’d signal to me when the time was right, but I have to give you full marks, my darling, for being so creative.”
It was too dim to make out from this distance who the speaker was, but the salacious tone did not belong to Teddy; she knew that much.
Araminta forced herself not to scream. “Debenham?”
“My good nephew gave me your note.” He chuckled as he strode forward, already loosening his stock, his eyes gleaming, satyr-like. “I must say, he looked rather dark when he thrust it without a word into my hand as I passed him near the riverside tent. I asked him if he’d seen you.”
Debenham stopped in the middle of the floor and looked her up and down with great appreciation. “I thought you’d lost your appetite for bedroom sport, Araminta, but now I find you in a greater fever to have me than I’d expected so soon after your confinement.” He chuckled again before repeating the words she’d written in her note: ‘Meet me in the rotunda on top of the hill as soon as you get this. I am ready.’ Well, there’s nothing cryptic about that, is there? Couldn’t have made it any plainer, my dear, and I am glad for it. I like a wife who knows what she wants and isn’t ashamed to say it. Now, come to me.”
He held out his arms and, forcing a smile, Araminta rose and advanced toward him.
“Ah, what a woman,” Debenham murmured into her hair as he wrapped his arms about her. Holding her tightly, his exploring hands roamed over her flanks, her bosom, pressed against her mound, clearly fueling his arousal.
Without a word, he bent and grasped the hem of her petticoat, whipping it upward and over her head. With nimble fingers he unlaced her stays, and within seconds, her chemise joined the tumble of clothes upon the ground. For the second time that night, Araminta stood naked, feeling even more vulnerable than she had when Mr. Woking had sized her up like a fox his prey, though her aversion had a different motivation. She’d felt she could control Mr. Woking. With her husband, that was not the case.
