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“Good night, my lord.”
Then she opened the door, slipped inside like a silent waif, and closed it. Oscar walked down to his door and entered his chamber. A fire roared in the hearth, shaving away some of the chills in his body. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he removed his shoes and stockings without the aid of his valet. With almost frustrated motions, Oscar removed his jacket and untied his cravat. He wanted to storm her room and demand an answer. Yet there was a part of him that was reluctant to go anywhere near his wife when he felt so off-kilter. Still, he stood, padded to the connecting door, and gripped the latch. His blood stirred hungrily at the thought of seeing her again.
I should wait until tomorrow; there is nothing urgent that warrants a discussion now.Despite that reminder, he could not step away. If a bounder had seduced his wife, damn the threat of scandal, he would bury the man. Dropping his forehead against the oak, Oscar closed his eyes tightly and shored up his restraint before opening it.
Chapter Eight
Prue jumped onto her bed at the exit of her maid and slumped against the pillows, the voluminous nightgown frothing around her before settling down. She had done everything right, and her husband had still gone to his room, alone. Perhaps she had been too natural. Prue had decided the best foot forward was to be honest with him in all her interactions. She was miffed that Oscar had made no attempt to ravish her, and Prue was also a bit mortified she had appeared so wanton.
What must he think of her? Even if she had shocked him, there would be no changing of herself. The very idea of being false with him was abhorrent. If they were to form a sincere, loving attachment, they could only do that by being honest and genuine with each other. She had clearly enticed him, but something had caused his shutters to come down.
“I am a poor temptress. That is what I am,” she muttered into a pillow. “I’ll have to visit the club for some guidance.”
The connecting door was suddenly thrust opened. With a gasp, Prue launched to her feet, her hand pressing against her chest. Her husband framed the doorway, his feet bare, his cravat undone, and his shirt rolled to his elbows, showing arms roped with muscles. His hair was delightfully mussed and in his eyes glowed something almost feral.
Her nipples unexpectedly tightened, and heat flushed her body. “Oscar?”
He closed the door firmly behind him and leaned against it. Her husband seemed dangerous. They stood there staring at each other, his intensity almost frightening her.
“Wife…”
She took a single step closer to him. “Yes, husband?”
“How did you learn about the pleasure of a man eating a lady’s quim?”
Oh!There was a lengthy pause, and a thick silence fell over the bedchamber. Now she understood the lethal expression in his eyes. Instead of being wary, the signs of his possessiveness sent a dark thrill down her spine once more.
“Though I do not know about the pleasure a woman feels when her sex is licked, I am not as ignorant as you think, my lord.”
His eyes narrowed as he clearly mulled over her words. “I am going to kill the bounder who dared to teach you such things, slowly and painfully.”
Prue lifted a shoulder in an elegant shrug. “You can do so if you feel it necessary to murder a book. I hardly think it a crime. I, too, have never betrayed our vows. My knowledge is from wonderful, explicit, erotic literature.”
He closed his eyes and muttered something that she did not hear. Prue took another step closer. “Is that why you came to my chamber…to fulfill my desire?”
His eyes flew open, and he had straightened from the door. “A gentleman must not be overly base and passionate with his wife.”
“Why not?”
“It is just not done.”
“Says who?”
He stood very still, his eyes narrowed. “It is common knowledge, my lady. I am surprised this book did not detail this.”
“Perhaps it is common knowledge among fools.”
Something gleamed in his eyes as if her words amused him. Prue took another step closer. “So if not their wives, who do gentleman have a relation with like this?”
“Those lusts are reserved for a mistress or casual lovers.”
Prue stared at her husband. “I am astonished a man of your wit and intellect would say such nonsense.”
He blinked, then a slow smile curved his mouth. “Are you insulting me, countess?”
“Of course I am.” She folded her arms underneath her breasts, suddenly furious. Was this what men told themselves to keep mistresses? That ladies were too delicate to manage their lust. “The images I saw…men had their faces buried between women’s thighs. Women had men’s manhood in their mouths.”
He slapped a hand across his forehead as if tortured. “I beg you, woman, have mercy, say no more.”
