Page 12 of The Seductive Love of a Lady
She sniffed as her dress fell to the floor and she began awkwardly trying to unlace her corset.
She was crying.
He was a fool. He kept making her unhappy. He did not know how to love her.Buthe would not leave her alone, because leaving her would make her think he did not love her.
He held her, enveloping her in a gesture of kindness, because he did care. She turned into the embrace. One hand stroked her hair, the other her back. She was his everything, from alpha to omega, his first and last, no matter what else. ‘It will be good between us. It will. I promise.’
Her arms wrapped about his midriff, holding tight and jarring his broken rib.
‘I will release your laces, then you can get into bed.’
The only way he knew how to show love was with his body, he had to make her believe.
4
When Mary woke the next morning, Andrew was not in bed. The room smelt delicious, of bacon, fresh bread, brewing coffee and warm chocolate. She got up and wrapped her shawl around her shoulders, her hair loose and wild. She had not plaited it last night because they made love again. Her stomach rumbled as she walked to the bedroom door.
Andrew must have risen and washed quietly, she could see the shaving brush and razor in the dressing room were wet.
Mary opened the door, rubbing sleep from one eye, her cheeks still warm from the bed.
Andrew stood beside the table that was full of plates of food. ‘Good morning. Come and sit down. I ordered chocolate for you to drink, as well as the meal.’
She sat at the table in her nightdress with her favourite paisley shawl draped over her shoulders.
He poured her chocolate while she buttered bread, the soles of her bare feet resting on the rung of the chair.
He sat in the chair closest to her.
They ate in silence. What she did last night, to teach Andrew a lesson, had made him think. She knew when he made love to her in bed later, there was repentance in his tenderness.
It made her think about things too – about how happy John and Kate were; how happy all her married cousins were with their husbands. She wanted a marriage like theirs. That is why she cried last night.
She looked at him. His cheeks reddened with a blush, then his gaze dropped to his food, as though he were unable to look at her this morning.
He was trying to prove that he cared again today, by ordering breakfast to please her.
‘Will you ride in Hyde Park this morning?’ she asked.
He looked up and shook his head. ‘It is raining.’
She looked at the window. It was only drizzling. ‘That is not rain. You cannot even call it a shower. It is falling dew. I have been out riding in a deluge with Robbie. Riding in the rain is fun. Can we not go together? I have my habit in my trunks.’
‘And when I take you to your papa’s later and you have caught a chill, it will be me he blames.’
‘Papa knows me well enough to realise who to blame, and I have a far better constitution than to catch a chill from a pathetic attempt at rainfall such as that.’
His eyes shone with amusement. ‘I ride my carriage horses. I have no others. They are spirited…’ he warned.
‘I can handle a spirited horse. I would be bored on a tame animal.’
He laughed. ‘Well, that explains much.’
‘Can we ride then?’
‘Yes, we will ride.’
‘Thank you.’
