Page 38 of The Marchioness of his Desire
“Very often, I hope,” He leaned up to kiss her.
He was still naked, his torso smooth and muscular, his manhood now subsided, though still remarkable to the gaze. She looked at him, no longer wondering if he loved her, but knowing by the act they had shared that he did. She loved him too, of that she was certain, and knew that he was all that she wanted.
“Will you stay with me tonight?” she asked, and he smiled, rising to his feet and taking her up gently in his arms.
“Of course, I will.” He led her to the bed and pulled back the covers.
He kissed her, laying her down gently and climbing in beside her, snuffing out the candle as he did so. The only light in the room now came from the fire and a thin shaft of moonlight coming through the curtains.
How safe she felt in his arms, how very much in love, and Rebecca fell asleep that night at peace, finally knowing the tender care she had always dreamed of and knowing of the true love which Nicholas had for her.
Chapter Fifteen
In the coming days, it was as though Rebecca and Nicholas had discovered afresh the state of married bliss which all couples should know at the beginning of their lives together. Each knew of the other’s love, and each tried hard to show that love now that the true nature of their marriage was known. Nicholas became ever more attentive as a husband, and Rebecca found an ease in expressing the love she felt for him, now that she was certain it was reciprocated.
But as with so much of Rebecca’s previous life, there were thorns which remained upon the path to true happiness, chief amongst them her mother-in-law, who insisted upon being a constant presence and companion. It was rare that Rebecca had a moment to herself, except in the intimacies of the bed chamber, when she and Nicholas could express the love which was growing ever stronger between them. It was this which consoled Rebecca, knowing that she had a husband who truly cared for her and who would always come to her aid.
Whilst Duchess Sinclair was a predictable presence, there was another thorn which caused Rebecca considerable discomfort, that of Edward Johnson, whose presence continued to haunt the house. He would arrive at the most unexpected of times, and, whilst Nicholas was willing to tolerate his presence, Rebecca found it awkward and difficult. He was always charming and friendly, even if his conversation at times bordered upon the risqué, and Rebecca had no cause to dismiss him, even if his presence was unusual. Consolation came some days later, when Rebecca was visited by Samantha and Catherine, who were both eager to discover if married life was everything Rebecca hoped it to be.
“Does she really follow you about the house like a lap dog?” Catherine asked, as the three of them took tea in the drawing room.
“It is I who play the role of lapdog, I fear, for I am at her beck and call every moment of the day. It is fortunate that you have called when she is shopping on Bond Street, else you would be subject to her opinions too,” Rebecca said, grateful for the arrival of her friends, a welcome respite from the attentions of Duchess Sinclair.
“She sounds a dreadful woman,” Samantha said, shaking her head. “It makes one think that marriage can hardly be all that it is made out to be.”
“Well, there are benefits,” Rebecca replied, blushing a little as she took a sip of tea.
“Has he …?” Catherine began as both her friends leaned forward with expectant looks, and Rebecca laughed.
“Yes, of course. He is entirely competent as far as I can tell.”
“Is it painful? They say it is, though I am not sure I trust Lady Penelope Beswick to know; it is well known that her husband is incapable, or so my maid tells me,” Samantha said.
“A little, perhaps, but then, well, from pain comes pleasure,” Rebecca replied, thinking back to the way in which Nicholas had made her feel, her whole body caught up in the delights and passions of their union.
“I must say, I am unsure if I would wish to experience it,” Catherine said, but Rebecca only laughed.
“You would not say that if you were in love, Catherine. It is not the act itself, so much as the feelings it gives, the feeling of being held by the man you love who loves you in return.”
“And does he love you?” Samantha asked.
“I know that he does; I know it well now.” Rebecca smiled at them both.
“And yet there is a rumor,” Catherine said, fixing Rebecca with a pointed gaze.
“Yes, a rumor, though not one which we wish to entertain. Nevertheless, as your friends it is our duty to inform you,” Samantha continued as both women glanced at one another.
“A rumor about whom?” Rebecca asked, laying aside her teacup.
“You, of course. You and Mr. Johnson. They say that he is a regular caller here. Not that we believe it, of course, but a false word can be as damaging as the truth, if not more so,” Catherine said, and Rebecca blushed.
“It is true that Mr. Johnson has been here, but who are these mysterious ‘they’ you speak of, and what right dotheyhave to cause scandal and create gossip?”
She was angry at the thought of herself being an object of discussion about the ton,though of course it was something she had experienced not so long before, after her liaison with Nicholas in the library had been made widely known by those same gossip mongers. It seemed they were now intent upon ruining her reputation once more, and she was keen to know their identity, so that she might rightly defend herself.
“But we could not believe it when we heard, Rebecca. Why would Mr. Johnson be coming here? Did you invite him? Surely his spurning would be enough to ensure he never wished an audience with you again,” Catherine said, looking in horror at Rebecca, who drew herself up and shook her head.
“I do not court his presence here, but I cannot prevent a man from calling at the house as much as I might wish to do so.” She glared at her two friends, who looked at one another in astonishment.
