Page 79 of The Study of Seduction
“No . . . no . . . no . . .” she began, scarcely aware of what she was saying.
“Clarissa,” he murmured soothingly, “sweetheart . . .”
Shoving against his chest, she bucked up against him, trying to throw him off her. “No . . . stop . . . stop . . .Stop, damn you!”
The last words were screamed into the forest.
He froze, his face ashen, and rolled off her to lie on the blanket panting as he stared up into the trees. That and the whimpers she couldn’t seem to quell were the only sounds other than the warbling of the stream.
After a few moments, he gave a shuddering breath. “Clarissa,” he said hoarsely. “You must tell me what’s wrong.”
She wanted to. But how could she say that she didn’t know if she would ever be right with this? “N-nothing’s wrong. I was just startled.”
He swore under his breath. “You were not startled. Don’t lie to me.” When she said nothing to that, he added, “I can’t do this anymore. Not like this. One minute you want me, and the next—”
When he choked off the words, she felt a different kind of panic. “Please don’t say that. Just give me a moment, and I’ll try . . .wecan try—”
“God, no.” He didn’t look at her. “You were terrified. I could see it in your eyes.”
“Not of you.”
“There’s no one else here.” Dragging in a harsh breath, he seemed to struggle to speak. “My mother’s eyes looked like yours once, when I burst in while my father’s closest friend was trying to force himself on her. I still remember her crying, the fear on her face. I never want to see that on any woman’s face again, but especially not on my own wife’s. Not because of me, for certain.”
That took Clarissa completely aback. “Y-your mother was . . . assaulted?”
She was still reeling from that revelation when a servant thundered out from the woods.
“I heard a scream—” The footman stopped short as he spotted them lying there next to each other, rather obviously undressed. “Oh.” His cheeks turned crimson, and he swiftly turned his back to them. “Beg your pardon, my lord. I didn’t mean to . . . that is, I—”
“What are you doing here?” Edwin snapped. “Are you spying on us?”
“No, certainly not, my lord,” the man said hastily. “Your sister sent me to fetch you, so I was heading this way when I heard . . . Forgive me, I clearly misunderstood what you and her ladyship . . . that is . . .”
“It’s all right.” Edwin sat up and began to button his drawers and trousers. “Bloody, bloody hell. Yvette and Keane are back from America?”
“Yes, my lord,” the footman said. “Apparently, they heard about your marriage as soon as they arrived in London, and they came straight here.”
“Lord help us.” Clarissa, too, was already frantically trying to set her clothing to rights.
Edwin stood. “Go and tell them we’ll be right there.”
“Yes, my lord.” Without looking back, the servant left.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Edwin held out his hand to help her rise. She took it gratefully, but when she was standing and he tried to release it, she wouldn’t let him. Squeezing his hand tight in hers, she said, “I’m so sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about.” It was hard to believe him, when he looked so remote and controlled. “But I want you to know that I won’t trouble you anymore by attempting to coax you into my bed.”
“Edwin—”
“I mean it. I realize now why you had me add that clause to the settlement. Because you really do need time to . . . adjust to me.” For a moment, his self-contained expression faltered. “Damn it, Clarissa, I wish you’d told me before . . . I wish I had understood . . .”
As if realizing how vulnerable he sounded, he stiffened. “It doesn’t matter. When you’re truly ready to consummate our marriage, however long that takes, you’ll have to be the one to initiate it, just as you requested from the beginning.”
“Iamready!”
“No, you’re not. Being willing totryrelations isn’t the same as wanting them or being ready for them. And I won’t have you shrinking from me in fear because you can’t bear—” He broke off with a ragged breath as noises sounded beyond them in the woods. “Clearly we can’t have this discussion now. But until you’re prepared to talk about . . . why you shy away from me, I think you and I should not attempt this again.”
“Don’t say that,” she whispered.
