Page 76 of An Unwilling Earl
This marriage was his idea. He was the one who had pushed for it. Hell, he was the one who could barely walk home for want of Charlotte. Now was not the time for regrets.
And there were no regrets. He was just struggling with the fact that his past was obstructing his present.
“I said I was sorry because I knew I was going to hurt you. I should have warned you ahead of time.”
“It wasn’t so bad.” She grinned. “The pain was a good tradeoff.”
“Ah, Charlotte,” he said softly. “You won’t always feel the pain. That was just a one-time experience. From here on out it will all feel good.” He would make sure of it. He would assure that there was no more pain for her.
He slipped from the bed and padded across the room, well aware that he was completely naked and that she was watching him. Sometimes he forgot that he was still a young man, in the prime of his life. The death of his family had aged him, made him feel that he was older than time. Charlotte made him feel younger.
He grabbed a wash rag, dipped it in the basin of water, and made his way back to bed.
“I apologize that this will be cold. I should have thought ahead and warmed the water.” He tugged on the blanket, releasing it from her white-knuckled grip.
“What are you doing?” There was a note of panic to her voice as she grabbed for the trailing sheets. He shushed her, taking the cloth and cleaning between her thighs.
“Sometimes there is blood,” he explained.
“Blood?” She craned her head to see what he was doing and then let her head fall back to the pillow and closed her eyes, throwing an arm over them. “You don’t have to do this,” she whispered. “Please.”
Finished, he pulled the covers up to her chin. “All done.”
She lifted her arm to look at him from beneath. “You’re a good man, Jacob.”
He put the cloth back, pulled on his own night dress, and came back to bed. There were times he liked to believe that he was a good man, but mostly he thought that he wasn’t because he hadn’t been able to save Cora or their son.
He rolled to his side and curled an arm around her waist, dragging her close to him. “Sleep,” he said.
She settled into him and sighed. Jacob let the events of the day drag him into a deep slumber.
He awoke the next morning fully aroused and tried to ease away from Charlotte, knowing it was far too soon to have relations with her again, but she was already awake, turned to her side, looking at him. Her hair was sticking up in the back like birds’ feathers, and her eyes were soft and sleepy.
“Good morning,” she said.
“Good morning.” He tried rolling away to keep his predicament from her.
“I guess this is our second day of marriage,” she said.
“Yes, it is.”
“How… Um… How often do we do what we did last night?”
Jacob closed his eyes and tried not to groan. He was in some amount of pain. Now that his body remembered what it was like to have a woman, it wanted more.
“W—” He cleared his throat. “We can do it as often, or as little, as you like.”
“What is normal?”
Good God.
“I suppose normal is whatever we deem it to be.”
“Can we do it again?”
“Now?”
“Oh.” A crease formed between her brows. “Is that wrong?”
