Page 59 of The Virtuoso
He focused, resisting the pull of sleep, and felt her fingers start the pattern over again: I-l-o-v-e-V-a-l-e-n-t-i-n-e-W-i-n-d-h-a-m.
He wanted to weep but held perfectly still, listening to her practice over and over again, until the rain on the roof, the gentle caress of her fingers, and the aftermath of passion conspired to lull him to sleep.
***
For the first time in her life, Ellen awoke in the arms of an intimate.
In the arms of her lover, she corrected herself, keeping her eyes closed the better to savor the sensations. Val’s chest was ranged along her back, his right arm draped casually over her waist, his legs tangled with hers. His left arm was tucked under her neck and splayed along the pillows.
She opened her eyes and peered at his left hand. “It looks improved to me,” she said, looking more closely. The thumb and index finger were still visibly discolored but not as swollen. The third finger looked almost normal.
Val flexed his fingers without moving any other body part. “It feels a little better, but then it should. Between wasting much of Thursday at Great Weldon and spending the weekend at Candlewick, that hand has seen a great deal of rest in the past five days. But perhaps”—Val’s voice dropped half an octave—“if you kiss it regularly, it might heal more quickly still.”
“Scandalous man.” Ellen wrapped her hand over his right forearm. “So tell me how we go about this.”
“About this?” Val placed a kiss on her nape and nuzzled her neck.
“This getting up, getting dressed, and going about our day, as if…” She trailed off, frowning at his hand.
“As if?”
When Ellen remained silent, he gently pushed her onto her back and peered down into her face. “As if?”
“As if we haven’t just misbehaved intimately.”
He cocked his head, his beautiful green eyes shuttering. “Are you going to castigate yourself and resent me now?”
“I am not ashamed. I amshy.”
His dark brows flew up and then down as his lips curved in a smile. “Shy. I am shy too, you know.”
“Shy you might be.” Ellen tried to roll back to her side. “You are not plagued by a great deal of modesty, though.”
“I am modest, for a man raised with four brothers. What are you really asking me?”
“I don’t know.” She subsided beneath him, not truly bothered by his show of… curiosity? Caring? With men, the two could be related. “I just don’t want… awkwardness. I find it amazing we’re here in this bed, not a stitch between us, and I can even look at your face without burning alive with mortification.”
“You amaze me too, in many ways. But tell me, do you think Axel and Abby Belmont don’t romp away the occasional morning? She’s expecting, and it’s no secret the child will not be born nine months after the wedding.”
“They anticipated their vows.” Ellen reached up to trace one of his perfectly arched dark brows with her finger. “It happens.” Then she had a disconcerting thought. “You said we’d take every reasonable precaution, Valentine. What precautions did we take?”
“You are not fertile for another few days.” He turned his cheek into her palm, so she felt the slight rasp of his beard. “Your menses started on Thursday, and thus you will likely not come in season for another few days. I would not have risked making love to you beyond tomorrow.”
She eyed him curiously. “How do you know this?”
“St. Just explained it to me when I was twelve, among other things. You are also not likely to conceive the week before your courses start, but there are those many women whose patterns do not fit the usual. There’s a name for them, in fact.”
Ellen’s lips pinched with disapproval. “What is this name?”
“Mothers.” Val grinned at her. “Or brides. Now, are you going to waste this entire day trying to locate your misgivings, or will you share an apple tart with a hungry tiger?”
Ellen smiled as he bit her neck playfully. “I do have misgivings.”
“I know, dear heart.” Val growled and teethed her shoulder this time. “But I’ve put them out in the springhouse where they will not trouble you as much. Did you know tigers are fond of apple tarts, particularly when consumed naked in bed?”
“I prefer my apple tarts properly clad,” Ellen rejoined, reaching around to pinch Val’s bottom.
“She pinched me.” Val sighed dramatically. “If I didn’t adore her before, I am thoroughly smitten now.”
