Page 53 of In Compromise with the Earl
She braced her hands and began to lift herself, craving the sensual capitulation just a few breaths away. When she rose, he eased two fingers into her tight, humid heat on the next pass and found her nub with his thumb.
Her lips were swollen and wet, and with a free hand he cupped her nape, tilting her head back so he could take her mouth as he wished. Their kiss was as feral and desperate as the tension between them. She ripped her lips away and gasped for air.
Pulling away, he kissed her slowly, loving the sight of her lethargic gaze and rested her on the bed. “Oswald?” Her voice was drowsy.
Brushing a hair from her eyes, he said, “Yes, Sweetling?”
“I’m falling in love with you,” she replied.
Someone could have shot Oswald between the eyes, and he would been none the wiser. Out of everything he could have expected her to say, those words had not been a part of it. He couldn’t put it into words, but he knew, knew deep in his bones she was right, that everything had changed.
“Good, I’m starting to feel it too.”
Chapter Eighteen
The idyllic town of Bath was so far removed from London that Aphrodite fell in love with it instantly. Oswald’s townhome, Number Fourteen, Queen Square, Bath, fit the classic temple architecture of the Palladianism that wasen voguein the late seventeenth century.
Two outside footmen came and bowed. “Welcome, Earl and Countess Tennesley.”
After Oswald thanked them, Aphrodite added hers, “May I know your names?”
“Smithe, My Lady,” the youngest of the two bowed.
“Richardson, My Lady,” the other added. With another smile and a parting word, she headed into the townhouse and passed through a spacious foyer into the main hall with a single curved staircase heading to the upper tiers. Simple but elegant crystal chandeliers hung above, Aubusson runners were under her feet and elegant art rested on the walls.
They had arrived at the downside of two in the afternoon and the air was cool and windy. After greeting the butler, housekeeper and indoor staff, and accepting their congratulations on the wedding, Oswald rested a hand on the small of her back as they mounted the stairs and led her down a corridor to a massive suite of chambers, a sitting room with a set of couches, end tables and a coffee table in the middle.
Beyond it was a bedchamber with a dominant rosewood four-poster bed, with velvet hangings and matching furniture placed around the chamber. With a smile, Aphrodite touched the rich cloth. “How long have you had this townhouse?”
“Three years,” Oswald said while removing his jacket. “Won it in a card game.”
Surprised, Aphrodite’s brows lifted. “Oh, my.”
“Don’t worry,” he flashed a grin. “He has a lot of houses. It not as if I denied him his birthright.”
Taking a seat, she asked, “How many houses do you have in London or otherwise? You said your Estate controls a good number.”
Oswald unlocked a cupboard, took out a bottle of brandy and two glasses. Pouring out a finger in each, he handed one to her. “Three in London that are rented, this one in Bath, two in Virginia, America that are under the supervision of my Uncle Bartholemew. If you fancy a trip overseas, that is our lodging home.”
“Ah, lovely,” Aphrodite smiled. “I’ve always wanted to see America.”
“How about Christmastide?” he offered. “It would be a change of pace.”
Setting the glass down, she turned to the window. “Have you thought what reception we’ll get when we go back to London?”
His index finger circled the rim of his glass. “Honestly, Sweetling, I don’t care. All three papers, the Times, the Gazette and the Observer can splash my name around for all I care. Nothing much can perturbed me anymore. Why? Are you worried?”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t have much to worry about when it comes to rumors. I have heard them all before.”
“Then what is concerning you?” he asked. “And I can see it in your eyes. The hues shift from bright blue to cornflower and your brows draw together.”
“They do not,” she replied staunchly.
Instead of replying, Oswald reached out and pressed his index and middle finger on the very spot where her brows met. He smoothed them out. “Yes, they do. You may have mastered nonchalance with many others, but I am starting to know your mannerisms. What is it?”
Giving a defeated sigh, she said. “At our wedding, I overheard you and your cousin speaking, did he truly marry you and your first wife?”
“Yes, he did,” Oswald pulled away to sip his drink. “My cousin and I are close, almost brotherly. When my mother’s brother, his father died, we took him in but made sure he was provided with everything he needed. It was only after Oxford we split up.”
