Page 82 of Married to the Icy Duke
This isn’t my bed.
Her third thought was followed by a glut of memories and realizations.
I went to bed with Isaac. Well, that is not so shocking, as we are now husband and wife. It also wasn’t traditional bedding, in the usual sense of the word.
The memories came in starts: herself, sitting on the countertop with her legs sprawled and her skirts rucked up to her waist, cool air on her bare legs. Isaac pressing his lips to her lips, to her cheek, neck, her collarbone, herthighs…
A tinge of pleasure came back as she remembered it, and she pressed the crumpled bedsheets against her mouth.
I cannot believe that it happened.
Thump.
Thump.
Thunk-Thump.
The noise came back again, and Charlotte gingerly sat up, the sheets tangled around her. She was in that small, untidy room where Isaac had told her he occasionally spent the night. Thecandle had long since burned down, but it didn’t matter, since early-morning sunlight flooded the room.
Isaac had been beside her when she fell asleep, she remembered that much. There was a divot in the pillow beside her, and there was just a hint of warmth in the empty stretch of mattress there.
Now, however, he was standing over in the corner by the door, aiming punch after punch at the sandbag hanging in the corner. His back was turned to her, and he was shirtless. As she watched, his muscles rippled with each blow, each carefully controlled punch which made the bag shudder and jerk.
He must be strong, striking it over and over like that.
It occurred to Charlotte that she had no idea what to do next. Perhaps theyhadhad too much wine last night, as they had tumbled into bed directly after she had come down from her high of pleasure.
Before I could even do anything for him,she thought guiltily. She had half expected to wake up and find Isaac gone. Last night, she had been sure that he would walk out and never once look back, like he had that day in the bathtub.
Well, now what? Should I pretend to be asleep before he leaves? No, that is ridiculous.
Sitting up a little straighter, Charlotte cleared her throat timidly.
Abruptly, he stopped punching the bag and glanced over his shoulder. Their gazes did not meet, however.
“I helped you take off your gown last night,” he said, his voice oddly restrained. “You asked me to. It was rather tricky getting you out of it. I suppose I should have suggested we go back to our rooms.”
“I fell asleep almost directly … directly after,” Charlotte managed, somewhat lamely. “I’m sorry to have fallen asleep in your room.”
“It’s quite all right. Think nothing of it.”
He began punching the sandbag again, the muscles about his shoulders tensing.
Charlotte shifted to face him, legs crossed, and considered the situation.
This changes everything, doesn’t it? He must have feelings for me. He would never have done any of that if he didn’t care for me. This isn’t like the bathtub situation, where he only didthatbecause he … Well, I don’t actually know why he did that. Any more than I know why he didthis.
“I am sorry that I broke your rule,” Isaac said abruptly. He didn’t turn this time, or slow in his punches. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“I’m … I’m not upset,” Charlotte managed. Taking stock of herself, she was relieved to see that she was still wearing her chemise, at least. Getting back into her wedding gown and all of its myriad petticoats wouldn’t happen without help, and she did not like the idea of padding down the hallways naked or clad in a sheet. A thought occurred to her, and she swallowed hard.
“Did … Did anybody notice that we were gone?”
“Our absence was noticed eventually, when we did not return,” Isaac continued. “I went downstairs late last night to get a drink, and Perling told me.”
Charlotte flinched.
He went downstairs and talked to Perling? He went downstairs and then returned here and slept beside me?
