Page 28 of His Scandalous Lessons
Somehow, she ended up beneath him. Her hands slid across the skin of his bare back, nails sinking into his flesh in silent encouragement. He whispered an agreement against her mouth, for he seemed as lost as she was.
“Please,” she whispered. She wanted to say all the words he knew. She wanted to share his honest vocabulary, the things he’d been taught. But she was limited. So she said the only thing she knew to indicate her desire, the first word he had ever taught her: “Fuck me.”
Richard tore his mouth from hers. He was breathing hard, his gaze unfocused. “We have to stop.”
Anne reached for him. “Richard—”
He grasped her hand and pushed it away. The distance between them felt more than infinite now, it was uncrossable. “You need to go.” He shut his eyes as if he couldn’t look at her any longer. “Fuck,” he breathed, shoving a hand through his hair. “You’re not for me.”
That made Anne scramble out of the bed. How could she ask this of him? Why hadn’t she considered that it would be every bit as difficult for him as it was for her? “Richard, I’m—”
He made a noise, a soft sigh that made her chest ache at the sound. “Just go, sweetheart.”
Anne fled the room.
Chapter 15
“I've so enjoyed our morning strolls,” Granby said, guiding Anne around a tree root. Even when we aren't speaking the silence is companionable.”
“Yes,” Anne said, trying not to sound distracted. “I agree.”
The entire morning, she had recalled every infinitesimal second of the kiss she and Richard shared. Her mind, so perfect in its memory, gave her every physical detail. The heat of his lips, the texture of his skin, the way he tasted. What it lacked was everything else: sensations she struggled to describe, feelings, thoughts, expectations, wants, needs. All those qualities made intimacy worthwhile, unexpected, that craving sense of wanting contact.
Hunger, that’s what it was. Her mind had created such a pale imitation, a charcoal drawing of a scene bursting with color.
“Miss Sheffield,” Granby said, interrupting her thoughts. He surprised her by coming to a stop and taking her by the shoulders. “I've the feeling we could be more than friends. Do you agree?”
Was that not what she had wanted to hear from him? So why did his revelation make her feel so hollow? So manipulative? No better than her own father.
“Yes,” she told him, hoping she sounded convincing. “I...very much enjoy your company.”
Granby lifted her chin with a finger. “I’m glad. For never have I treasured a woman’s companionship the way I have yours. I feel as though you truly listen to me.”
Yes. Listen. Though she’d barely heard his words at all this morning.
“And I think,” he went on, “we’re quite well suited, you and I. I would like to continue to—” He let out a small laugh. “I suppose what I’m trying to ask is...will you be my wife, Miss Sheffield?”
Anne ought to have leaped at the chance. She ought to have thrown her arms around him and laughed with relief — but she could not summon the feelings that had spurred her to come here and find a husband.
Neither was she stupid. This was her chance, and she had to take it. So she forced a brilliant smile and said, “Yes. Yes, I will.”
Granby grinned and leaned forward to kiss her. It was so brief, his lips cold. It had none of the passion of what she shared with Richard. It stirred nothing. “I’ll ask your father’s permission when we return to London.”
Anne pressed her lips together. “There’s something you should know.”
He looked puzzled. “What is it?”
“My father. He—” Anne let out a breath, hoping this would not deter him — yet she had to suppress a small, traitorous part of herself that wished it would. “He is determined to match me with Lord Kendal.”
Granby frowned. “I’m certain, once he sees how we are together, I can convince him otherwise.”
He was lovely. Anne did not deserve him. He deserved a wife who was not a liar, a fraud, a cheat. A woman who could come to love him. “Unfortunately, he’s not a man who convinces easily. I’ve been matched since I was twelve.” At his sharp inhale, she added, “I know. I should have told you. But I found that once we were together...” No, she could not lie, not even for this. “It was not my choice. But you would be.”
Granby was quiet as he considered her words. A moment later, he nodded, as if coming to a decision. “If I got a special license, would you still marry me?”
“Without question,” she said fondly.
“Good.” He grinned. “Good.” Then he pulled her in for a quick embrace.
