Page 65 of His Wicked Secret
“You’re never going to be easy, are you?” Unable to think of a witty remark, she just shook her head. “Good. I like complicated.” He kissed her again and again, so often that she had trouble forming words.
“Do you want me to answer you?”
“No. You said to take what I wanted, and I just did. You as my wife. All I have to do is see it finalized with a ceremony and some very boring paperwork with witnesses.” He raised himself up and withdrew from her. At first she expected him to leave, but he merely finished stripping out of the rest of his clothes. Then he tucked her between the sheets and got into bed with her. She immediately cuddled up next to him. The last week she’d grown accustomed to sleeping next to him, but tonight would be different. He stole the covers frequently, but he was also so warm that all she had to do was curl into his side and he was like a fire in the hearth all on his own.
“Should we blow out the candles?” She hoped he would say no, for she didn’t want him to move.
He pressed a kiss to the crown of her hair. “Let them burn a bit longer.”
“You truly don’t want me to answer your proposal?”
“I don’t want to give you any chance of telling me no. We will discuss wedding plans in the morning.”
Her smile faltered as she remembered that she had other plans in the morning. Other duties. Ones that would take her far away to France, far away from him. She could never tell him.
He may feel as though I betrayed his trust. But if I don’t go, I’ll never know what I am capable of. I will not simply be a man’s wife.
She had to know if she could be something more than just a fine English lady. She wanted to show herself, show the world, that she, Audrey Sheridan, was not a creature obsessed with bonnets and the latest issue ofLa Belle Assemblée.
I am more than that. We are more than that. A woman can be whatever she sets her mind to.
She closed her eyes, clinging to Jonathan and trying to imprint everything about this night in her mind, just in case never happened again.
For one night, he was mine. At least I will have that.
19
Jonathan stretched out, feeling at ease for the first time in as long as he could remember. A smile spread across his lips, and it hadeverythingto do with last night. Finally bedding Audrey and telling her they were to be married had been a dream he’d never thought possible. Yet it had happened, and she hadn’t said no. Every moment of last night had been a victory a year in the making. He rolled onto his side, but when he reached for Audrey she was gone.
What in the blazes?
He sat up, brushed his hair out of his eyes, and realized with a sinking feeling that the room was empty. Had she simply stepped out for a moment? Seen to her needs? Yes, that was possible.
“Audrey?” he called out. Only silence answered him. He glanced around the room; not a piece of clothing was left. Not even a note this time.
His little sprite had run out on him. Shame cut through him, and he had trouble swallowing past the pain.
Did I do something wrong last night? Did I push her too far and too fast?What if she hadn’t been ready to make love last night and now regretted her actions? She was brave enough to pretend, but he hoped to God she hadn’t been.
Whatever I did, it upset her, and now she’s run. I’ve destroyed my chances with her…again.
Every dream he had hung his hopes upon in the last year quivered like dew on blades of grass, ready to drop to the earth and sink into oblivion. The emptiness in his chest nearly choked him. He closed his eyes for a minute, forcing himself to breathe deeply.
I wanted to give you everything, Audrey, but you didn’t want me.
He slipped out of bed and gathered his clothes, his hands shaking as he collected each button torn from his waistcoat the night before.
For the first time in his life he truly knew shame and humiliation, and he’d grown up as a bloody servant in his own house. He’d hurt her or upset her, and he’d lost her. He was increasingly convinced that he had presumed too much, pressured her too much, and for that he felt nothing but regret. So much for being a gentleman. He’d apparently been a bastard last night, only he’d just not seen it.
Jonathan pulled on his boots. He was ready to leave and never come back when the door opened and Sean Hartley, first footman of the Sheridan household, entered.
“Thank God you’re still here,” Sean said.
“Not for long,” Jonathan growled. He and Sean were old friends and had never stood on ceremony, even after Jonathan was elevated to the status of gentleman. A status he no longer felt he deserved.
“You have to go after her,” Sean said.
“I most certainly will not. Whatever I’ve done has upset her, and I fear that I deserve whatever scorn she has for me right now. If she wanted to see me, she would have stayed here.”
