Elliot glanced down at his erection. “Not in the least.” He slipped into the bed and pulled her close to him. “Good lord, woman, your feet are like icicles.” He tossed the blankets over his head and made his way under them to her feet.
“What are you doing?” She laughed as his hands rubbed at her feet.
“Warming you,” came his disembodied voice from under the blankets.
She lifted the bedding and peered down at him.
“Get back up here.” She smacked his naked arse.
Laughing, he pulled her back into his arms and held her tight to him. “Night, wife.”
“Good night, husband.”
* * *
Nina had learned from her lovemaking with Elliot that the human mouth could do so much more than consume food. Yet, even in her groggy state, she questioned Elliot’s desire to wake her up in the morning by licking at her cheek with robust enthusiasm.
She opened her eyes and almost screamed at the bloodshot eyes staring at her and the large snout only an inch from her face. She might have contained her yelp, but her hand squeezed Elliot’s thigh as she realized she lay sandwiched between him and Zeb.
“Well, aren’t you frisky this morning, Nina?” Elliot mumbled, slipping a hand over one of her breasts.
“Not exactly,” she replied, staring at Zeb, who, in turn, stared at her as if she were an interloper. “Elliot, it appears we are not alone.”
“Not alone?” he echoed. Then he jerked upward into a sitting position and stared at Zeb. “Damnation, Zeb. Even on my wedding night, you don’t possess the decency to stay in your own bed.”
The dog sat up and bowed his massive head and gave what Nina could only describe as a whimper.
“Oh, Elliot, you’ve hurt the poor dear’s feelings.”
Next to her, Elliot flopped onto his back and released a long weary sigh. “Fine. If you want him to invade our bed so be it, but one morning you could end up on the floor.”
Our bed? Nina stopped patting the dog’s head and peered at her husband. “Am I to share this bedchamber, Elliot?”
“I had hoped you would, but it will be bloody crowded with Zeb in it as well.”
True. And after spending a night snuggled up next to Elliot, there was no place else Nina would rather be. “Zeb,” she said, in the sweetest voice she could muster, “you need to return to your own bed.”
“Good luck with trying to get him to do so,” Elliot grumbled.
But he’d no sooner finished talking than the dog slowly slipped off the bed to make his way to his pallet on the floor.
Elliot blinked as if watching a mirage. “I’m not sure how you spoke to him differently than I have a thousand times before, but I should reward your genius.”
“And how do you intend to do that?”
Slowly, he trailed his finger over one of her breasts before he lifted the blankets and climbed under them, and this time it was not her feet his wicked hands stroked.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Several days later, as the sun rose beyond the heavy curtain panels, Nina snuggled tighter into her husband’s embrace. With her head resting on his chest, she listened to the beat of his heart. A few minutes ago, after their round of lovemaking, the thump, thump, thump had slowed to a smooth cadence.
They’d fallen into a pattern of lingering in each other’s arms in the morning, even when they had not made love. Nina relished the act of making love with her husband. The glorious joining of two bodies evoked a pleasure difficult to describe. But holding each other afterward was glorious as well—a wonderful calm to an act that was sometimes primal and all-consuming.
“What are you thinking?” She lifted her head and peered at Elliot, wondering if he was feeling the same way about just lying together.
A wicked grin turned up one side of his mouth. “That in a few minutes, I’ll be ready to make love to you again.”
Well, it appeared her solitary thoughts were just that. “I was thinking how I like snuggling with you. Don’t you enjoy it?” She heard the almost wistful tone in her voice.
“Always.” He wrapped his arms tighter about her.
Smiling, Nina rested her head back on his chest. “Today, Meg and I are going to begin packing up all the books in the library. The painters will be arriving in two days.”
* * *
Elliot released a slow breath as he grappled with the fact that it was Nina’s dowry that paid for these repairs. Though she had initiated it, not he. He was impatient to get the sale of Langford Teas settled and try to grow the business.
“After my meeting with Talbot, I’ll help pack and carry the books into the attic.”
“Meg wants to bring several crates of books with us to Ralston House.”
The room grew quiet. Nina glanced at him. “Elliot, are we still leaving in three days?”
“Yes. After my meeting with my solicitor.”
“I cannot wait to visit our country home. Perhaps we can hold a family gathering there in a few weeks.”
A gathering? Elliot cringed. He’d been dreading the moment his wife laid eyes on the interior of Ralston House. “Nina, the property was neglected. It needs a great deal of work.”
She patted his chest. “I’m sure it isn’t quite so dreadful.”
No. It was bloody well worse than she could imagine. A money pit that would suck up a great deal of her dowry if she allowed it. He only hoped it didn’t rain. If it did, the sound of water landing in the metal pails in the east wing would echo through the house. A plop, plop, plop almost capable of driving one mad.
“I’m excited about tonight.” She ran the tip of her finger down the center of his chest.
Under the bedding, his cock twitched, coming to life again.
“You haven’t changed your mind about accepting James’s invitation to join him and Caroline at the theater, have you?” Nina peered at him with her warm, honey-colored eyes.
Truthfully, the thought of sitting in Huntington’s box at the theater with the man glowering at him held little appeal, but for Nina’s sake, he would try to get along with his brother-in-law. “Of course not. I’m looking forward to it.”
One side of her sweet lips turned upward into a disbelieving grin. “I think that’s balderdash, but I thank you for agreeing to go.”
“Do you really wish to thank me?” He slipped his hand between them to palm one of her breasts.
With a giggle, his wife slipped from the mattress and dragged her silky robe over her shoulders. “Though I’d love to stay in bed, we need to get up. Already, I wonder what your sister and the servants must think of us, lolling around in bed so late every day.”
Elliot rolled onto his back, letting the absence of his wife’s warm skin cool his fervor. “They think we are newlyweds.”
She looked at him, her expression serious. “Is it always like this, Elliot?”
“Like what, darling?”
She averted her eyes and fiddled with the sash on her robe. “You know.”
“Do you mean the lovemaking?”
“Yes, and the feeling of contentment in one’s marriage.”
With a grin, Elliot folded his arms behind his head and stared at his beautiful wife. “As far as the first part of your question, definitely not.”
Even with her face cast downward, he could see a slow smile turn up her lips. He was telling her the truth. He didn’t want to think about past lovers, but making love to Nina was different. It had been since the first time he’d kissed her. Sex was one thing, but adding love to the equation shifted it to something completely unmatched. He’d never wanted to lie around in bed afterward. No, he’d wanted to go. Sex had been an act solely based on physical release and pleasure with little, if any, emotional connection. He had wanted it that way. Not now.
“And what of being married?” Nina asked with an inquiring expression.
He chuckled. “I’ve never been, but if my parents’ and grandparents’ marriages are any indications, this is very different
.” He extended his hand, and she placed hers in it. Her fingers were cool, and he rubbed his hands over them to warm the skin. “Love makes it different. Without it, it can be strained. My grandparents’ marriage was arranged. They never loved each other, nor did my parents, for that matter. But we chose each other.”
“We did, didn’t we?”
“Yes.” He gave her a playful smack on her luscious bum. “Now, you better move away before I pull you into this bed and keep you all to myself for the remainder of the day.”
“Don’t you have a meeting with Talbot this afternoon?”
“I do.”
“Care to tell me what it is about?” She tipped her head to the side and studied him.
“Our future, my love. Our future.”
* * *
Nina carried a small empty wooden crate into the library.
While Elliot attended his business meeting, she and Meg filled several crates with books to be carted up to the attic, so they would not get paint splatters on them. Meg marked the boxes she wanted brought to Ralston House. Her new sister-in-law had revealed that some rather ravenous bookworms had caused a great deal of destruction to the collection there.
Releasing a slow breath, Meg gingerly lowered herself into a chair and rubbed at her left leg. She glanced up, and seeing Nina, the girl quickly pulled her hand away as if reluctant to have anyone see her massaging the area, which obviously ached.
Nina opened her mouth to ask Meg how she felt, but snapped it closed as she remembered Elliot warning her away from inquiring. Instead, she set the empty crate down and plopped into the chair next to Meg. Perhaps if she sat as well, the girl would rest a bit. “My mouth is parched and my nose itches from the smell of these musty books and the dust motes. What do you say we have some tea?”
Meg’s sideways glance conveyed she knew what Nina was about.
For a moment, Nina thought Meg would be stubborn and not accept the offer, but she nodded.
In truth, Nina’s mouth was dry. She stood and rang the bell pull.
Meg laughed.
Startled, Nina spun around to find her new sister-in-law grinning broadly. She gave her a questioning look.
“I hate to say this, but it might be quicker, even with my sore leg, if I go and get the tea.”
Elliot’s sister admitting her leg plagued her seemed like a breakthrough. Nina glanced at the door to make sure Mrs. Lamb hadn’t entered the room. “I’ve noticed both the housekeeper and valet are rather like turtles.”
“Uncle Phillip asked Elliot on his deathbed to keep them on, along with Zeb. I don’t think Elliot would have tossed them out anyway.”
Nina didn’t think so either. Her husband worked at giving a devil-may-care attitude, but there was so much more to him. And as far as the dog, Elliot might act like he resented Zeb, but deep down he truly cared for the bloodhound.
Mrs. Lamb shuffled into the room—the soles of her shoes making the same swish, swish, swish the valet made when he walked.
“Mrs. Lamb, will you bring us tea?”
The housekeeper pulled out her hearing trumpet. “What, my lady?”
“Tea,” Nina repeated in a louder voice.
“Yes, my lady.” The elderly woman turned around and moved slowly out of the room.
“Meg, tonight Elliot and I are going to see a play. I know he asked you to attend with us and you told him no, but is there anything I could say that might sway you to change your mind?”
The girl drew her bottom lip between her teeth.
It was evident her sister-in-law wanted to go; she just needed a push. “The newspapers are proclaiming Robinson Crusoe extremely well done, and the performances far superior to any other play in London.”
“I’ve never been to the theater. What would I wear?”
“We are close in size, and I have a canary-yellow gown that would look divine on you.” Nina reached for Meg’s hand and squeezed it.
Meg lifted her solemn face to Nina’s. “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind if I went?”
“I would be overjoyed. Please say you will attend.” Nina pressed her hands together as if praying.
Still looking unsure, Meg nodded.
“Wonderful!” Nina exclaimed and wrapped her arms about her sister-in-law.
* * *
Elliot could hardly believe Nina had been able to convince Meg to join them at the theater. His wife was a miracle worker. He glanced at his sister. She looked beautiful and so grown up in the yellow gown that Nina had lent her.
Meg’s already large eyes grew wider as she walked around the theater’s circular balcony and peered up at the soaring ceiling of the rotunda.
“Are you anxious to see the play?” he asked, leaning closer to her.
A smile spread across Meg’s face. “I am.”
“Have I told you how pleased both Nina and I are that you decided to join us?”
“At least a dozen times,” she replied, her smile broadening.
With a chuckle, Elliot glanced at Nina. She wore a violet gown with a low neckline. He wanted to pull her into the next alcove they came across and kiss her senseless.
Ruddy hell, he was a randy bastard who couldn’t seem to get enough of his wife. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she equaled him in her desire.
As if reading his mind, she grinned at him.
“I must be the envy of every other gentleman in attendance, since I am accompanied by the two loveliest women in all of London.”
Meg giggled.
Startled by the sound, Elliot’s regard shifted to his sister. He squeezed his wife’s hand. She really was a miracle worker.
“Lord Ralston, how are you?” a gentleman to his left asked.
He glanced to his side to see Lord Hampton. Thankfully, Elliot didn’t see the gentleman’s wife, Amelia. The woman had implied at Lord and Lady Hathaway’s house party that she’d be open to a liaison with Elliot. She was trouble with a capital T. Hampton had gotten himself a young bride, but she was not a faithful one. Poor bastard.
“Well, Hampton, and yourself?”
“Jolly good. I hear felicitations are in order.” He smiled at Nina. “Lady Ralston. Brava on getting this rascal to settle down.”
Elliot cringed. Living down his bachelor ways would take some time, but having other men remind Nina of the fact that’d he’d been a cad wasn’t helpful.
“Thank you, my lord.” Nina’s smile dimmed when Amelia stepped beside her husband.
“You both know my wife, Amelia, don’t you?”
Next to him, Elliot felt Nina stiffen, though she said hello, as did he.
“And who is this lovely young lady?” Hampton asked, peering at Meg.
“Lord and Lady Hampton, may I introduce you to my sister, Margaret Havenford.”
Greetings were exchanged.
Nina had grown uncharacteristically quiet, and Elliot felt relief when, at the top of the wide staircase, the Hamptons went to the left and they turned to the right.
“You don’t care for Amelia?” he inquired in a low voice.
“Not particularly.”
“I don’t either,” he whispered.
That seemed to release the tension in her body.
As they made their way down the narrow corridor that led to the boxes closest to the stage, a door opened ahead of them, and the Duke of Fernbridge stepped out.
“Your Grace.” Nina smiled tentatively at the man.
His gaze roamed over Nina as if she were an odious offering from a costermonger selling day-old fruit.
Elliot’s hand clenched.
The duke’s narrow-eyed gaze shifted to Elliot, and a sneer twisted the man’s mouth. Then, without a word, Fernbridge brushed past, giving them a direct cut.
Nina’s face paled. “I did not think he would be so angry.”
Elliot squeezed her hand.
“Who was that rude gentleman?” Meg asked, frowning.
“No one of great importance,” Elliot replied.
&
nbsp; They stepped inside Nina’s family box. Lord and Lady Huntington were already seated. Thankfully, Nina’s ill-tempered grandmother wasn’t in attendance. The woman was probably still sulking over Nina’s and his marriage.
James stood and greeted Nina with a kiss before welcoming Meg. He shook Elliot’s hand in a tight grip.
Elliot forced a smile. “Huntington, thank you for the invitation.”
Releasing a frustrated breath, Lady Huntington gave her husband an elbow in the ribs.
A surprised oof escaped the marquess’s mouth, causing him to release his attempted-bone-crushing grip.
Elliot grinned at his new brother-in-law. “You’ll have to do better than that, Huntington.”
A devious smirk settled on the man’s face. “Want to meet at Clapton’s Boxing Club tomorrow?”
“No,” Nina said, scowling at them. “I will not have my husband and brother brawling.”
Lady Huntington hugged Nina and greeted Meg, who stared cautiously at Huntington. “Don’t let my husband’s lack of civility scare you, Meg. His bark is much worse than his bite.” She turned to Elliot. “I am beyond pleased you could join us.”
“Thank you, Lady Huntington,” Elliot replied.
“Lady Huntington?” she echoed, arching a brow. “We are family—you must call me Caroline. And your new brother-in-law, James. Right, darling?”
Huntington made a noise that sounded more like he had indigestion than was agreeing.
Ignoring the man, he said, “Only if you will call me Elliot.”
“Very well.” The woman’s green eyes smiled.
They took their seats. Throughout the performance, Elliot enjoyed the pleasure on both Nina’s and Meg’s faces. At the end of the act, the curtain closed and the lights in the theater grew brighter, announcing intermission, while the orchestra played the entr’acte.
“Would anyone care for a refreshment?” Elliot asked, standing.
A round of chatter started as everyone requested their beverage choice.
Huntington unfolded himself from his seat. “Do you need help?”
The last thing Elliot wanted, besides a bullet to the brain, was Huntington accompanying him and making those grunting noises he made while in Elliot’s company. But he needed to try to make peace with the man. “Thank you, Huntington.”
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