Page 26 of Lady Beast's Bridegroom
And, too, cocks—the poultry kind—were notoriously so focused on servicing their hens that housewives had to regularly culled their flocks of surplus males, so the poor hens had time to eat and sleep.
But she was allowing her mind to blather to distract her from her main concern.
Now Peter stopped. “Arial? What is the matter?”
She blurted the truth. “It is so big. Will it not hurt?”
He lay back down beside her and slid his arm underneath her to pull her close beside him. He did not, thank goodness, stop his ministrations with his other hand. “Can you feel how soft and wet you have become? That is your body preparing to receive mine. You and I were made to fit together. It can hurt when a man forces himself on a woman—but I would never do that. I have heard, too, there may be pain with a woman’s first time. Just when I enter the first time, Arial. After that, there will be only pleasure.”
He pressed a kiss to the corner of her eye.
Arial and pain were old acquaintances. She could cope with one time.
Peter had not finished. “I am hoping to give you so much pleasure that you will be eager for our next time, knowing the pain is behind you. Will you trust me, dear wife?”
“I am in your hands,” she reminded him, and reached again for his cock.
He held his hips out of her reach. “Later,” he said. “Any more, and I shall spend before I can enter you.”
Arial had no idea what he meant, but as he wriggled down on the bed and put his mouth to the nub he had been working with his thumb, she decided it was a question for later. She had more important things to think about.
Chapter Ten
Peter was right.It hurt, though not much more than a pinch, and the pleasure before and after more than made up for it. And the next twice didn’t hurt at all, once in the darkest part of the night and once in the morning, when they lazed in bed sharing histories and opinions well past the time that Arial was normally up for breakfast.
Arial was definitely going to like this part of being married.
The rumbles of hunger eventually drove them out of bed. “We could send Nancy for sustenance, and stay here,” Peter suggested. Arial was tempted. Peter grimaced. “I suppose not. If we stay, I will want to have you again, and you must be sore. Besides, I need to arrange for those visiting cards, and you must have things to do, too.”
Arial had to admit she was a little tender down below. In need of a good wash, too, though Peter had insisted on gently washing her after each round of intimacies.
“Shall we come with you when you go to see Mr. Richards,” she suggested, “and perhaps afterwards take the girls for an ice at Gunther’s? Or perhaps tea at Fournier’s.” She had read about both fashionable activities and had always wondered what they were like.
“Good idea,” Peter agreed. “First, though, we could do with a bath. And perhaps a snack while we wait for it to be filled, just so I don’t die of starvation before breakfast. I expended a lot ofenergy last night.” He dug his fingers into her side in a swift tickle and added, “and this morning.”
“I shall ring for Nancy,” Arial agreed. “You can have your snack here with me while we wait for our baths to be filled. I would love a cup of tea.”
Peter looked puzzled and then disappointed.
Surely, he did not expect the pair of them to bathe together? “Peter, no one ever sees me in my bath. Not even Nancy.”
He recovered his poise. “Yes, of course. Then send for Nancy, and we shall have a cup of tea together.”
She let the matter drop.
They sat down with a pot of tea and fresh crumpets with Cook’s gooseberry jam, discussing their plans for the day.
The girls would have another holiday. Last night, Arial had asked Miss Pettigrew to write a list of all the things the girls and Miss Pettigrew needed. After breakfast, Arial would lead an expedition to begin making those purchases, while Peter spoke to Mr. Richards about visiting cards and Society hostesses. He would also ask Mr. Richards to look into a townhouse for the dowager Lady Ransome and her daughters.
They agreed that Peter would purchase the townhouse and retain ownership of it, but would provide it rent-free to the dowager, along with a small allowance. “I need to make it very clear that nothing more will be forthcoming,” Peter said. “I would not put it past her to gamble away the lot and then tell the whole of Society that her penury is my fault.”
“You owe her nothing, Peter.” From what Arial had heard about the woman, she was lucky Peter did not put her out in the street. In fact, he had suggested doing so, but Arial had pointed out that Society’s sympathies would be with the widow if he did not make reasonable provision for her.
“Your father provided a perfectly adequate allowance, and anything more is out of the goodness of your heart,” she pointedout. “If she is nasty, we will just withdraw all support. Or provide her with townhouse in Australia.” And make sure that Society knew the dreadful woman deserved it.
“Hardly fair on Australia,” Peter grumbled.
On one of her trips conducting the footmen who were filling Arial’s bath, Nancy brought in the newspaper. Mr. Richards, with his usual efficiency, had managed to get the notice of their marriage to the press in time for this morning’s printing. Peter looked for it and read it to her.
