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“Lavender, my favorite,” she replied, solving the riddle of her perfume. “The maid who washed my hair brought it, though she didna want Mrs. Bruce to learn of it.”
“I actually pity Evan growing up with those two.”
“Having spent time with his parents, and seen the opulent home he grew up in, I understand a lot more about him,” she admitted. “But having less than stellar parents doesna necessarily mean a person will turn out badly.”
He’d only met her father briefly, but recognized her discomfort. “I dinna care a whit about yer da’s character or reputation,” he assured her. “’Tis ye I love.”
“But yer family. They belong to the nobility. Yer uncle’s an earl.”
He hugged her more tightly. “’Tis a long story how that came about, and I’ll tell it to ye someday. Suffice it to say, the Pendrays havena always been titled. Granddad Morgan came from a coal-mining family in Wales. They were local gentry, right enough, but not titled.”
Neville came out to greet them when they arrived. “Dr. Raincourt’s resting,” he explained, after directing the driver to the stables at the rear of the inn. “But he left word ye would be coming. I’ve a chamber ready. He didna seem to ken ye were married, but I assured him ’twas the case.”
Ambrose leaned close to Eala’s ear. “We canna ask for the bridal suite now,” he whispered, enthralled by how easy it was to make her blush. “We’ve only recently become man and wife,” he explained. “Giles perhaps wasna aware of it. We havena had time to celebrate with everything that’s gone on.”
“Well, we can remedy that,” Neville declared, handing him a key. “By the time Dr. Raincourt comes down, we’ll have a delicious meal ready for the three of ye.”
“Excellent. We havena eaten all day. We’ll come down in a couple of hours, then?” he asked, winking at Eala.
Neville nodded, and Ambrose ushered his still-blushing wife to lead the way up the stairs.
* * *
Eala giggled when Ambrose scooped her up and carried her over the threshold of the room they’d been given. “Darlingmon,” she whispered.
“I ken this probably isna how ye imagined yer honeymoon,” he replied, setting her on her feet and removing her cloak, “but I want to make it as memorable as possible.”
She leaned into him, and put her arms back around his neck. “I canna be even an inch away from ye.”
He cupped her bottom and drew her body against his. “Seriously, I…”
She touched a finger to his lips. “If ye truly want to hear about my imaginings of my wedding, I thought I’d be filled with dread at the prospect of being bedded by a husband I didna love.”
He removed his cloak. “And now?” he asked, nibbling her neck.
Aroused by his warm breath on her skin and the unmistakable hard maleness pressed to her belly, she inhaled his masculine scent. “Now, I’m apprehensive I willna be able to please the husband I love to distraction.”
“I’m nay worried,” he replied, moving his hips in a steady rhythm. “Simply looking at ye pleases me, as ye can tell.”
The heat rose in her face, as well as in an unmentionable part of her body. “Ye ken what I mean.”
“Aye, and there’s only one way to find out,” he countered with a lecherous grin as he cocked his head towards the bed. “But, firstly, we must both be completely naked.”
* * *
Ambrose wasn’t quite sure what had come over him. In his limited experience of sexual congress, he couldn’t recall ever seeing any of the women he’d bedded completely naked. Nor had he removed all his clothing.
With Eala, he wanted to tease, to draw out the pleasure, to be silly and serious at the same time. He teetered on the brink of what he knew would be the most momentous event of his life. Eala might be worried about not pleasing him, but she could have no idea of his driving need to please her.
He filled his lungs and led her to sit on the edge of the bed. “Shoes first,” he said, going down on one knee. “I’m an expert at this.”
While it was true he’d removed her shoes before, on that occasion he hadn’t been on the cusp of making her his.
“They’re just plain boots,” she murmured. “My father…”
He shook his head as he loosened the laces. “’Tis the feet I’m interested in, nay the boots.”
When she leaned back, bracing herself on the bed, he was tempted to abandon the footwear and concentrate on getting a look at what he anticipated would be perfect breasts.
