Page 74 of Love in the Time of Scandal
“No, but I didn’t expect to love my wife, either. Don’t you remember all of what I asked for? A pleasant, good-natured companion. Someone pretty enough to look at, sweet enough not to drive me mad, and gentle enough never to argue or oppose me.” He gave a softtsk. “What sort of idiot wants that?”
“One who doesn’t want to be tormented and bedeviled,” she reminded him.
“Ah yes,” he murmured, a hint of smile curving his mouth. “Tormented by wicked, lascivious thoughts about you in my bed. Bedeviled by your forthright nature and spirit of adventure. But also charmed by your exuberance. Impressed—and humbled—by your devotion to your friends. And deeply moved by your ability to put aside your dislike of me and try to make a happy marriage, even after the terrible beginning we had.”
Her face burned. “Oh—yes, that was quite a magnificent feat...” She stopped. “No,” she said in a low voice. “I cannot tease about that. Did you really never know? I fell partly in love with you the first day you came to Hart House.”
“Did you?” His voice warmed with interest. “Tell me more.”
“You were the handsomest man I’d ever seen—”
“And now?”
She blushed. “You still are—even more so than then. I’d never seen you naked then.” He growled in appreciation. “But you didn’t notice me, even when I tried to flirt with you by badgering you to go hunting for ghosts at Hampton Court.”
Benedict’s eyebrows shot up, and then he gave a soft laugh. “And here I thought I’d have my head handed to me if I dared try anything!”
“Well, you didn’t want me then.”
He rolled on top of her. “After a logical, calculated analysis, I decided your sister would be a safer choice. I knew if I married you, I’d never have a moment’s peace. I’d spend the rest of my life reading scandalous pamphlets”—he burrowed one hand under the blankets and began tugging at the hem of her nightgown—“and wondering how daring you were willing to be when making love”—she arched her back and wrapped her arms around his neck as he moved between her legs—“and going out of my mind wanting you... kissing you... even savoring the sound of you laughing at me.” He kissed her.
Penelope inhaled sharply as his hand trailed down her belly. She should be sound asleep by now, worn out from the ordeal of the last few hours. Instead her skin seemed to sizzle where he touched her, and she wanted him inside her more than ever before. She wanted him to hold her down and make love to her until every other memory of this night was scoured from her mind and her body was exhausted with pleasure, rather than from life-threatening danger. She clasped her hands around his arse and tugged. “As long as you love me back, there is no reason to deny yourself any of those things.”
He laughed and pushed forward, making them one. “And as long as you love me, I won’t.”
Chapter 26
Benedict woke early the next morning. Penelope barely made a murmur as he extricated his arm from under her and slid from the bed. His clothes lay folded on a chair near the hearth. He dressed, gratefully pulling on a coat that wasn’t his. It was probably Sebastian’s; the shoulders were a little tight and the sleeves were too long. The boots were also too big, but only a bit, and the very fact that they were there, freely given before he even asked, touched him deeply. After folding the blanket more securely around his sleeping wife, he went in search of his host.
A sonorous bark stopped him at the bottom of the stairs. Sebastian’s enormous black boar hound clattered out of the sitting room, his ears pricked and a faint growl rumbling in his throat. Benedict stood motionless.
“Boris.” Sebastian Vane appeared in the doorway and put one hand on the dog’s head. “Sit.” The dog’s haunches dropped instantly. Sebastian glanced at him. “How did you sleep?”
“A good deal better than I would have at the bottom of the river.”
Sebastian nodded. “And Penelope?”
His throat closed. “She’s well—thanks to you.”
His onetime friend tilted his head. “I didn’t jump off a boat and save her life, then carry her more than a mile up the hill.”
If only that could atone for the fact that he’d allowed her to be on the yacht in the first place. Benedict hesitated. “Would you take a walk with me? We’ll want a lantern.”
If Sebastian was surprised, he didn’t show it. He fetched two greatcoats, handing over one without comment. Benedict shrugged into it, feeling very keenly every time he had failed Sebastian, every time he had retreated behind his father’s domination and expectations and protested,What could I have done?He had been a coward not to try. Penelope had been right about that. From now on, he meant to act as he knew he should, without fear of anyone’s anger.
“They’ll be looking for you, no doubt,” said Sebastian as they walked down the hill, Boris bounding ahead of them.
“Perhaps.” Benedict squinted in the sunlight, dazzling today. “Perhaps not.” He felt his companion’s swift glance. “It’s quite possible we’re both presumed dead, if not outright desired dead.”
“That sounds harsh even for his lordship.”
Benedict heard the rest of Sebastian’s mildly spoken comment. The earl would never want his son and heir dead. Without Benedict, the earldom would go to a distant cousin, a rather hedonistic fellow who cared only for horse racing. All of Stratford’s carefully collected artworks would be sold to finance a stud farm, or lost outright at the races. To a man who couldn’t countenance a nouveau riche heiress as the next countess, the idea would be unthinkable. All Stratford’s punishment and cruelty had come with the explicit admonition that it would mold him into a proper earl, fit to take his father’s place.
But he’d learned more from his father’s lessons than the earl intended—some of it later than he should have, but with a depth of meaning Stratford could never have imparted.
“After our last words, I daresay my father and I won’t be on speaking terms again soon. I have finally seen, with absolute clarity and certainty, how devoid of feeling he is. Any concern he ever had for my health and safety was solely for my position as the heir to Stratford.” He hesitated. “And I am ashamed of what I did in the hopes of retaining his regard. I should have told you that I never believed you stole from him, or had any hand in your father’s disappearance.”
This time Sebastian couldn’t hide his astonishment.
