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Part of her said that she ought to turn right around and go back to bed, pretend she had heard nothing, yet as she leaned in and pressed her ear to the door, she realised that she couldn’t do that. The sounds she heard were all too familiar. She had heard them several times during the last few weeks of the late Comte’s life when she had often gone to care for him during the night, finding him tossing and turning in his bed as if he were having awful nightmares.
But the duke is not sick!she reminded herself firmly. Yet even as she did, she lifted her fist and knuckles delicately on the door. “My Lord?” she said softly, wondering if maybe he wasn’t asleep at all.
When the distressed sounds continued, Penelope couldn’t fight the urge anymore. She reached down and gripped hold of the door handle. Twisting, she pushed open the door as quietly as she could so as not to startle her husband.
Tiptoeing into the room, Penelope squinted her eyes to see in the near darkness. As she had expected, she found the duke tossing and turning, his mouth twisting in an expression of distress, and instinctively, she hurried to him.
“My Lord, it is just a dream,” she assured him as she slipped onto the bed beside him. All was gone from her mind save for concern for him, and she gripped hold of his shoulders, shaking him gently in an attempt to wake him.
He appeared asleep even as he rolled over and wrapped her possessively in his arms. “No, no, you cannot leave me,” he muttered in his sleep, and Penelope’s heart skipped a beat, her chest tightening with sympathy.
It suddenly occurred to her that perhaps the duke was just as stressed and lonely as she had been all these weeks, merely pretending to be happy for the benefit of all those around them.
In her desperation to ease his distress, Penelope leaned down and pressed her lips to his, hoping the warm sensation of affection might ease his troubles and possibly even wake him. She felt the moment that he did, his entire body going rigid against hers as he pulled her tighter into him.
Surprised by the pressure of his returned kiss, Penelope melted into his arms, feeling every inch of his muscular, naked body pressed against hers. Suddenly the only thing between them was the silken material of her chemise.
“Rose,” he breathed her name against her lips, his voice filled with desire and longing, and the next moment, she felt his fingers hooking in the skirt of her chemise. All desire to fight was gone from her when she found herself in his bed, slipping beneath him as he awakened further to climb atop her.
Everything happened in a rush, a tangle of arms and legs and other body parts. And it felt like the most beautiful thing in the world. All the stress and tension instantly melted away when she felt him urging her into a sitting position just long enough for him to pull her chemise up over her head.
As soon as she was naked and writhing beneath him, she did not even pause to remember her reservations. The way he kissed her caused her head to spin, and her hands came up to cup his face, kissing him in return with renewed affection.
Heart hammering in her chest, she felt his rock-hard member hovering right between her thighs. Though slightly frightened, fearful that he might hurt her, she trusted him completely and found herself angling her pelvis up to him invitingly.
His lips left hers just long enough for him to trail kisses down her neck and along her collarbone, and she felt his teeth graze her flesh, causing her entire body to tremble with desire. The next moment, she felt his hand slip down between their bodies and anticipated his touch right between her legs.
Instead, she was surprised to feel him guiding his manhood gently inside her. Unable to deny her desire any longer, she wrapped her legs around his hips and writhed beneath him, startled by the pleasure she felt at having him deep inside her.
Though it was slightly painful at first, it was nowhere near as bad as she had anticipated, and she quickly found herself relaxing beneath him, enjoying the sensation of him thrusting in and out of her, making love to her as though he had been waiting millennia to do so.
Penelope was lost in all the feelings and sensations, unable to think of anything else but making love to the man she had loved and longed for ever since the day they stumbled upon each other.
The next morning, Penelope was awakened by the touch of a gentle kiss upon her cheek. Startled awake, though present enough not to open her eyes at the sensation, she held her breath as everything came rushing back to her.
“Sleep well, my love,” she heard him whisper in her ear as she continued to keep her eyes closed, hoping against hope that at any moment she might wake again to realise that everything had been a dream. Yet as she lay there unmoving, holding her breath, she felt the duke slip from the bed and heard him beginning to dress quietly, clearly not wanting to disturb her.
Carefully squinting one eye open, she saw that the room was still in near darkness save for a small chink of pre-dawn light filtering through a gap in the drapes. Catching a glimpse of the duke with his back half-turned to her, mesmerised by the beauty of his muscular physique, she almost didn’t manage to close her eye in time before he turned once more to look at her.
Feeling his eyes on her once more, she held her breath again, and her heart skipped a beat when she heard him whisper, “How did I ever get so lucky?”
She didn’t dare to breathe until she heard the bedroom door open and click closed behind him. Waiting for his footsteps to recede from the door, she pushed herself into a sitting position and pulled the bedsheets up over her naked body, feeling tears stream down her face as she thought,what have I done?
Yet there was little question of what she had done. She had messed things up irreparably. No longer could the duke get an annulment, no longer could she pretend that she was not in over her head, and no longer could she deny her feelings. She could still feel the soreness left behind between her thighs by their lovemaking the night before.
What if I am with child?She gasped in horror the moment that the thought crossed her mind, yet she instinctively placed a hand upon her stomach, tears growing thicker and faster at the thought of carrying the duke’s child, a child born of love and passion.
Momentarily she was lost to the fantasy that everything might actually work out, that she might remain the duke’s wife and bear his child, and all would be well. But it did not last long before she remembered that all was not well, and she was merely a step away from everything falling apart.
Having woken in his bed, she had not been in time to get to the mailbox before Cartwright. All she could pray was that the butler had not been instructed to give her mail to the duke before it made it to her hand, as some husbands would do to be certain they could trust their wives.
Perhaps there shall be no letter this morning,she prayed. Either way she was certain of one thing. She had fallen too deeply, and there was only one thing left to do. She had to create a distance between herself and the duke; somehow, she had to find a way to protect her heart because she knew that it was only a matter of time before the duke found out the truth.
No longer could she leave, no longer could she escape unharmed. There was nothing left to do but accept the consequences of all she had done and hope that when her comeuppance finally came, the duke would feel enough affection for her not to merely hand her over to the Comte and let him have his way with her.
Closing her eyes, she remembered how impassioned and affectionate he had been the night before, how he had been so gentle and nurturing, and how he had made her feel entirely loved and worshipped. All she could hope for now was that he would feel even a smidgen of that when she was finally exposed for the fraud she had been all this time.
Oh, Mama! What have I done?She screamed the words silently, throwing her head into her hands to stifle her sobs as she wept and wept, unable to control herself any longer.
