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In the morning, she would pen a note to her sister, who was likely raw from the nerve-racking decisions Rose had been making.In London’s sitting rooms, Rose would be served up for luncheon with a side of cold pigeon when the news became public.No notes were needed.
Another set of footsteps sounded up the stairs then diminished as he walked toward his room.Was Mr.Hardy always the last one to bed?
She did not want to be afraid of him.She did not want an unfounded fear to build in her.The longer she avoided him, the more anxious she would become.And his display of used, hard hands, as it were, was a test of her resolve.Could she accept him for what he was?
The last candle continued to burn.Rose threw back her light covers, put her feet in the cozy slippers, then checked on her daughters.She found her reticule and pulled out the small bottle of oil—a mix of lavender, geranium and sage.Thinking the worst before she’d departed for Madame DuPuis’, Rose had placed the oil inside the reticule in the event she married a rutting dog.For her it was bearable.Had the act ever lasted more than three minutes?All that grunting and moaning with nary a thought for her comfort.Lavender oil would have helped on many of those unpleasant, unprepared occasions.
She lifted her gown, doused her fingers, then applied plenty of the oil in the soft area that would be most battered by a clumsy husband.Oh, she shouldn’t be so critical of Edmond.He was more academic than ducal.He’d been as kind as he could be given the weight of the duchy and his worry that they still hadn’t had a son.
Opening the door, she listened for any activity.Only the hallway clock ticked rhythmically.Rose dashed toward Mr.Hardy’s room.The transom above the double doors showed a light.He was still awake.She took a deep breath, tapped lightly, counted to five and entered his room.
Matthew was just sitting up, wearing only his trousers.“Oh.Your Grace.What can I do for you?”His brow was drawn.He set aside the book he was reading.
“I know it’s late,” she said.She closed the door behind her.
“And?”
“I just want to tell you how much I appreciate what you did?And—”
“Nothing is expected of you tonight, Your Grace.Go back to bed.”He leaned back, reached for his book again and crossed his legs at the ankles.“You may go.”
She couldn’t look away.His dark eyes were hard and unknowable.There were just parts of a man that commanded her attention, and Matthew Hardy’s parts were extraordinary.Her gaze was captivated by the hair on his chest and the fine line that led down to his trousers.Her heart took to galloping.
“I can’t.”Rose took slow steps toward him.Could she describe him as a sculpted statue?He was neither David nor Hermes.Adonis was too soft and feminine.Who was Matthew Hardy?A laborer?A protector?
“We are both tired.The day has been one of profound emotion.Wouldn’t it be better to return to your room so neither of us has a regret in the morning?”he asked.Logically.
“Since Edmond died—”
He lifted his hand and stared hard.“I do not want to be cruel, but you are my first wife.I do not yet want to hear about your first husband, no matter your deep feeling for him.Especially on the first night of our new marriage.”
He was making her advances difficult, as if he was clueless that she was really offering herself to him on their wedding night.She blinked, unsure how to proceed.
Rose removed her slippers then, displaying her ankles.
“At some point, I will not allow you to stop,” he said directly.“Please rethink your actions.”
She gripped the light material of her gown and lifted it overhead, revealing, offering all she had.It was a small price to pay.She took another step, determined to complete the cycle of bad decisions that led to this moment.But the familiar burn of passion had already started low in her belly.
“Stop,” he said.“Why are you doing this?”His gaze was hot and greedy, but still he resisted.
She knew why she was doing it, but could she say it honestly?
“If it is to show your appreciation, you can just say ‘thank you’.If it is because you want me to fuck you, you say, ‘I want you to fuck me.’I do not like deception.So, it is up to you now to say why you are doing this and I expect nothing less than the truth.”
She bit her lip, feeling foolish.Feeling trapped because her reasons were hurtful.“I’m doing this because I am afraid of who you are.And the longer I wait, I believe my fear will keep me from you and grow into something I can’t control and that you would then hate me for.”
Rose reached across her body and gripped her elbow, hiding her breasts.
“No.Lower your arm.You removed your gown.You do not now get to act the virgin.”
With a slow breath, she swallowed some of her building fear.She’d thought he would be perfectly willing to have her sit on his cock and blindly arouse him.“What do you want me to do?”she asked.
“What did you plan on doing, if I had been agreeable?”He set his book aside again, more interested in what was before him.Finally.
She started toward him again.
He held up his hand to stop her movement.“No.Tell me what you planned on doing.”
