Page 83 of The Duke's Forbidden Bride
He had only needed to make a quick suggestion, and his aunt had been thrilled to have company in the cottage.
Now, he headed to the guest room, stiff in his wet clothes, and before he could stop himself, his hands went to Eleanor’s waist as he pushed her into the room and shut the door behind them. He pressed her front to the wall immediately.
His mouth traced a hot line down the back of her neck, coaxing a gasp from her.
“You must allow me to peel your sodden clothes off you, wife,” he murmured, his fingers already teasing the laces at the back of her dress.
Eleanor turned her head, a smile lingering on her lips as she hummed. “It would be a shame to sit in them for too long. I do not want to catch my death.”
“Allow me to warm you up, then.”
“And do allow me to interrupt.”
He started, pulling away quickly as Charlotte barged into the room with a fresh gown for Eleanor and a stack of clothes for him.
He scowled at her, but she only smiled smugly. “As Aunt Katherine said, do not be late for dinner. Besides, you did know I was coming back. It is not my fault?—”
“Leave, Charlotte,” he growled, already turning back to Eleanor as the door clicked shut.
But she was already squirming out of his grip.
“She is right.” She laughed. “After all, we are guests. It would be rude to get distracted by one another.”
“We hardly have the chance to do so,” he muttered, but then began stripping off.
Annoyed and frustrated, Spencer took off his wet tailcoat and stalked to the tub in the adjacent bathroom, dropping it in. When he looked up at the creak of floorboards, he found Eleanor’s eyes trailing over his wet shirt.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” He smirked.
She still blushed as if she was not used to staring so openly, but she didn’t look away.
Spencer took it as an encouragement to approach her. He took one of her hands and placed it on his chest, breathing evenly. Her fingers curled into his shirt, her eyes rising to his. Nerves still flickered across her expression, as if she didn’t know what she was allowed to do, but he only leaned down to brush a kiss over her mouth lightly before stepping back.
“I will change in here,” he told her.
He ached to see more of her body as much as he ached to undress her, but with his family waiting downstairs, he didn’t want to rush it.
“You change in the bedroom and knock when you are ready.”
More nerves flitted across Eleanor’s face, and she bit her lower lip. “Was I—” She broke off, pulling away. “Perhaps I was too eager.”
He caught her quickly, wanting to assuage her doubts. “No, not at all.” He pulled her closer, his fingers tugging at the fastenings of her dress. “It is only that I do not want to be rushed when I take you, Eleanor. I want to savor every inch I bare. I do not want to miss a single detail because I have been rushed.”
He met her gaze for a moment, long enough for the flicker of worry to dissipate, and then he stepped back, nodding at her once.
Her blush was pretty and stubborn, not fading even as she seemed to struggle with her words.
“You… you must stop saying such disarming things,” she mumbled finally, turning back to enter the main bedroom.
Spencer laughed quietly as she left, and they finished changing for dinner.
Chapter Twenty
“So to recap,” Katherine began, looking at Spencer, then at his wife, and then at Charlotte. Dinner was laid out before them, the small dining room in the cottage feeling even smaller with the four of them in it. “You ladies became friends when…”
“Well, when I was twenty,” Eleanor answered. “Charlotte was seven-and-ten—recently debuted, I believe.”
“That is right,” Charlotte sighed, shaking her head as she smiled wistfully. “Oh, sometimes I miss those early balls. Suitors would clamber over one another to get to the most eligible lady.”
