Page 49 of The Marchioness of his Desire
“I am glad you did … I have missed you,” she replied, closing the door and turning the key in the lock.
The house was silent, and Rebecca set her candle down on the dressing table, turning to find Nicholas’ robe laying on the floor. He was standing in only long drawers, the evidence of his arousal now showing as he crossed the room and took her in his arms.
“How I have longed for you. How I have wanted you,” he said, pulling her into a tight and passionate embrace; their lips meeting as though for the first time.
The force of his passion caused her to gasp, though she was soon taken up in it, their hands searching each other out, their lips entwined. Her dress fell to the floor, causing her to shiver as the chill of the evening caught her. He took her by the hand and led her to the bed, the two of them falling into an embrace, their bodies now entwined.
“And I have wanted you, too,” she gasped, longing once again for that feeling which only he could arouse in her.
His lips were circling her breast, his hands upon her thighs, drawing her into him. There was passion in his touch, the same passion she had felt that first time, and she knew then that his words about the countess were true. It was she that he desired, she that he wanted, and she that he now possessed.
With Nicholas above her, Rebecca gazed up into his eyes. He smiled down at her, pausing for a moment, breathless, as the first throes of their encounter subsided. She ran her hand along his chest, trailing a finger down his torso and beneath the blankets, causing him to start as she found the object she was searching for.
Gently, she ran her hand along him, feeling him stiffen. A shudder ran through his body as she laughed and took him in hand. He smiled at her, before suddenly rolling her onto her side as she let out a cry of delight. Now, he held her in his embrace, kissing her neck with renewed passion, and she felt that familiar sensation once again.
It made her tighten, her whole body shuddering as he pushed inside her, letting out a gentle moan as he pulled her closely to him. He was behind her now, their bodies as one, his hands upon her breast. She moved her body with his, heightening the sensation she felt and feeling him tense, his breathing becoming more erratic.
“Rebecca,” he gasped, letting out a cry, stiffening as she felt the rush of feeling within her.
He let out a cry, and she felt it inside her too, that rising sense of pleasure, flooding her, and casting her into ecstasy. His own pleasure had come, but hers was only just beginning, her whole body caught up in the sensation, which engulfed her like a wave, filling all her senses with delight as she shuddered and let out a gasp. It was almost too much to bear, and she grasped him to her, longing to experience more of that sweet delight, the delight of union with the man she loved.
He held her in his arms as he subsided, each of them as one. What tender feelings she felt for him; how she loved him and wanted him again. She knew now that he was telling the truth, that there could be no question of his sincerity. How could he have made love to her like that if it were not for his love for her, a love which would surely survive even the worst of scandals?
“Will you stay with me tonight?” she asked, and he nodded, kissing her again upon the neck, his arms embracing her.
“And every night,” he whispered, sleepily, and together they fell into a deep and contented sleep.
* * *
But whilst the repose of sleep took some of the anxiety away, the morning brought with it the reminder that all was not well. The question of Edward and the countess still hung over them.
“What are you going to do about it, Nicholas?” Duchess Sinclair asked as the three of them sat at breakfast.
“I am going to invite them here, mother,” Nicholas replied, and his mother dropped her fork in astonishment.
“What do you mean? All of them?” she asked, and Nicholas nodded.
“Yes, I shall host a dinner; you will be there, too. But the three of them: the countess, Edward Johnson, and Rebecca’s uncle will not know that the others are to be in attendance until they arrive. I shall invite them each individually to discuss their respective situations. The bait will be easy enough. With the countess, I will make it clear that I wish to speak about the child and come to some arrangement, with Edward it will be matrimonial matters we discuss, for he must realize that Rebecca is my wife and will never be his, and with Rebecca’s uncle, the matter of our future amicable relations,” he said, glancing at Rebecca, who felt nervous.
The prospect of the dinner was already weighing upon her mind. She had no wish to be subjected to the presence of either the countess or Edward, and she had little love left for her uncle, now that she had discovered the truth about his cruel designs. But she knew that Nicholas was right, and that matters must soon come to a head. Thus, she reluctantly agreed to the plan, leaving Edward to make the arrangements.
“And when is this dinner to take place?” Duchess Sinclair asked, having now recovered from her initial surprise.
“As soon as the arrangements can be made, but first, I must find the countess, for she appears to have disappeared, though I have no doubt that she will soon resurface,” he said, rising from the table.
“Do be careful, Nicholas. I have a terrible feeling about all of this,” Rebecca said, holding out her hand to him.
“Do not worry, my dear. All will be well; I promise you,” Nicholas replied, and squeezing her hand, he left the room.
“I see that the two of you are reconciled,” Duchess Sinclair said, and Rebecca nodded.
“I am convinced that he is telling the truth now,” she replied.
“And what convinced you of that?” the Duchess asked, furrowing her brow.
But Rebecca had no wish to tell her mother-in-law of her uncle’s cruel designs. The Duchess would learn it in time, no doubt, so for now, Rebecca merely made an excuse about the absurdity of the countess’ claims, returning to her breakfast and hoping that the matter would soon be resolved.
* * *
