Page 42 of The Earl Takes All
He wanted to feel those muscles closing around him while he was buried deeply within her. Something else that would never happen.
“Considering going out?” she asked, her voice raspy with sleep, causing a tightening in his groin.
Damn, but he wanted to return to that bed. Instead he merely looked over at it, at her, with her hair cascading in a tangled mess around her. “No. Can barely see into the distance at all. I’ll work indoors today.”
Pushing herself to a seated position against the pillows, she smiled, and the reason why he had been so quick to vow to never leave her struck him hard. He loved the way the corners of her mouth quirked up, the manner in which her eyes warmed with pleasure. He wished he’d be able to honor every promise he made to her since his return.
He was barely aware of striding toward the bed until he reached it and sat on the edge of the mattress. She smelled of sleep and faintly of sex, a seductive perfume. He combed the dark strands back from her face. “I should brush out your hair.”
“I should let you, but it might lead to other things.”
He pressed a brief kiss to her forehead, her lips. “It no doubt would.”
“We have to behave.”
“Pity.”
She giggled, the echo of a young woman filled with joy. He couldn’t recall ever hearing her make such a whimsical sound. “I don’t know why I doubted. Being with child has caused havoc with my emotions.”
“Don’t doubt.” Cradling her face, he took her mouth as tenderly as he could, holding his own needs in check. Her fingers went up into his hair. It was tempting to just sink onto her.
Instead, he pushed back, stood. “I should probably be about my day. I’ll see you at dinner.”
Her look was sly, provocative. “If not before.”
Whywere ladies served their breakfast in bed?
Edward had pondered the thought while eating his own breakfast in the smaller dining room and staring at an article in the newspaper that Rigdon had dutifully ironed. The paper was a couple of days old, having arrived with several others the day before. Now, sitting at the desk in the library, staring at the snow that continued to swirl beyond the window, he doubted deliveries of anything would be made today.
He finally had a handle on the land, the tenants, the potential for income. At least for this estate. In the spring, he would need to travel to the other two that were temporarily in his keeping until the heir reached his majority. He wondered if he should invite Julia to accompany him so she could see what her son would inherit. Although his brother had no doubt already shown her. Besides, come spring, she might still be rather cross with him.
Leaning back in the chair, drumming his fingers on the mahogany desk, he knew that all the pleasant moments he had to spend with her would soon be coming to an end. So why the devil was he sitting here going over ledgers, calculating sums, and striving to determine how to make the estate more profitable? He would have ample time to do all that when his days and nights were filled with little save his own company. Odd that he didn’t envision himself filling his nights with women and drink.
Spending so much time in her company had ruined him. Only fair, he supposed, that suffering was in his near future. But it wasn’t yet time to step out of his brother’s shoes. Yes, all this could bloody well wait. For now, he needed to stock up on memories.
And he knew just where to begin, where he would find her.
Only she wasn’t in the room where she worked with her watercolors. Not that he blamed her for not seeking solace here when one could barely see the landscape beyond the windows. When was the blasted weather going to quiet and still?
On the other hand, it was perfect weather for sitting before a roaring fire with a bit of warm brandy. Perhaps he would ask her to read aloud fromMadame Bovary. He smiled with the image of her finding that book in his room—
His mouth went flat. Surely she wasn’t in there now searching for something provocative to read. He had yet to go through his trunk, to go through Albert’s. It was not a chore he was welcoming. He kept telling himself that tomorrow he could get to it. So many tomorrows had already passed, and still he hadn’t taken care of matters.
No, she wouldn’t go there. The residence was so large, she could be in any one of a hundred rooms.
He strode into the hallway. Why did they need a residence this large anyway? As far as he knew, royalty hadn’t visited since Elizabeth. Wasn’t that what Marsden had mentioned one night? How a previous earl had been one of her favorites? What did it matter now? It didn’t. Finding Julia mattered.
“You there!” he called out to a passing footman, who stopped and faced him. “Do you know where I might find Lady Greyling?”
“No, m’lord. I’ve not seen her today.”
Could she still be abed? Not that he would blame her, when the weather was so dismal. Joining her there, though, could lead to things. It seemed neither of them had much willpower when it came to being pleasured. He waved his hand at the footman. “Carry on.”
And he did the same, glancing in one room after another, finding each absent of her. Not even her scent lingered. He was not on the correct trail.
When he reached the foyer, he bounded up the stairs to the wing that contained the family’s bedchambers. He rapped on her door. No answer. He shoved it open. Empty.
Back into the hallway. He walked briskly toward the bedchamber at the end that had been designated as his whenever he visited. The door was open. Not a good sign. He’d instructed the servants not to go in there. He’d given no such instruction to Julia.
