Page 67 of How to Ruin a Duke
So would I.“Very well, fairytales and memories it shall be.I am duly challenged.”Though this was only the first of many encounters, most of which would happen beneath the velvet canopies covering his various ducal beds.“I will be content if you enjoy yourself enough to invite me to another such encounter.”
She slipped away and headed for the steps that led from the foyer.“Are you coming?My bedroom is upstairs.”
He trundled along after her, up the narrow steps, down a short, dim corridor that nonetheless hadn’t a single cobweb.
Her bedroom, like the rest of the house, had seen better days, and yet, she’d made this space her own.The quilt was a bright patchwork of green, lavender, and cream squares.The floor polished enough to reflect the afternoon sunlight onto a tarnished mirror hung over a walnut washstand that, given a good oiling, would have been attractive.A sliver of hard-milled soap sat on a folded flannel, and a bound copy ofHow to Ruin a Duke sat by the lamp on her bedside table.
The rug was thick, though the pattern had faded, and the colors might once have complimented the hues in the quilt.A few dresses hung on the line of pegs along the wall, a worn pair of boots arranged beneath them.
What cheered Thaddeus most was a bouquet of half-bloomed irises in a green glass jar sitting on the windowsill.Lady Edith had gathered into the place where she dreamed what comfort and cheer she could find, and now she was to gather Thaddeus near as well.
“I can hardly believe my good fortune,” he said.“I awakened focused on that blasted book, but also knowing I had dreamed of you.Again.Lovely dreams they were too.Shall I undo your hooks?”
She gave the irises a drink from the pitcher on the washstand.“We’re to undress?”
“One often does, in the circumstances.”Though Thaddeus had nothing against the occasional hasty coupling against a wall.The moment didn’t seem appropriate to air that bit of broadmindedness.
“Then yes,” Edith said, “I would like you to undo my hooks.”She set the pitcher on the washstand.“Please.”She turned her back to him, posture as stiff as if she were bracing for a scold.
Thaddeus began by kissing her nape, where a faint scent of roses lingered.She was to be his intimate companion in every sense, and only a fool would rush what should be savored.
“You do that well,” she said, when Thaddeus had managed to undo all of three hooks.
“My lady is entitled to fairytales.”Three more hooks, and he could brush his lips along the top of her shoulder.Such soft skin she had, and how still she stood, like a cat reposing in a shaft of spring sunshine.
Three more hooks and she turned to face him.“Are you entitled to fairytales too, Emory?”She followed her question with a kiss, this one a lingering press of her lips to the corner of his mouth.The off-center starting point left him wild to taste her, but he made himself wait.
Tobesavored was lovely and precious, and a perfect beginning to all that he hoped would follow.
“Shall I undress you?”she asked, slipping the pin from his cravat.
Her décolletage gapped, revealing the top of her chemise and a hint of cleavage.Thaddeus had to focus his mental faculties to comprehend her question.Something about tearing off his clothes…
“Assistance disrobing would be appreciated.”
She smiled the smile of a woman who knew her lover to be more nervous than the Flying Demon of Lady Edith’s Boudoir ought to be.
Thaddeus’s sexual education had begun the week he’d arrived at university, and he’d applied himself diligently to that course of study.Today the curriculum had shifted, from the pleasurable and fascinating business of erotic skill, to the rare privilege of being Lady Edith’s intimate and devoted companion.To excel at that scholarship, Thaddeus needed to learnher.
She drew off his cravat and draped it over the washstand.His coat came next, and she hung that over one of her dresses.
“I like that,” he said, holding out his wrist for her to remove his sleeve buttons.“My morning coat sharing a peg with your frock.It’s… friendly.”The first word to come to his mind had beendomestic, but for his prospective duchess, domesticity would mean greater comfort than these surrounds had to offer.
Edith removed his second sleeve button and set both on the bedside table.“Shall you remove your boots?”
He put his everyday handkerchief on the table beside his sleeve buttons.The only place to sit was on the bed, which took up nearly half the room.Lady Edith’s chamber must have been the master bedroom at one time, for in all the house, no other piece of furniture was half so imposing.
He sat on the bed and tugged off the first boot.“Are you nervous, my lady?”
“Yes, also… determined.”
“Determined?If you think I’ll climb out the window to elude your charms, you are very much mistaken.”He set his boots beside her bed and stood before her.“Determined on what, exactly?”
“I’m not sure.”She stared hard at his chest.“And I can’t seem to get my mind to focus on the question when you’re about to remove your shirt.”
He bent near.“Actually, I’m about to remove your slippers, if you’ll permit me that privilege?”
Determination was an interesting quality to bring to the start of relationship, or the start of a new phase of a relationship.
