The Marriage Rescue

by Joanna Johnson

  ‘Both out of the country.’ Edward shrugged. ‘Mother moved abroad with her noble lover, although where I do not know. After their divorce Father banned any mention of her—even her name. All her portraits were removed, and now it’s as though she was never here at all. As for Letitia—her new husband owned a fine chateau in France, and they settled there after their elopement.’

  There was a short pause, during which Edward silently admired the slender shape of each of Selina’s tanned fingers. She appeared to be thinking, but it was only when she began to speak that Edward realised the direction of her thoughts.

  ‘We both mourn for our mothers, in a way...’

  Selina’s voice was soft, almost shy. Edward inclined his head slightly to look into her averted face and wondered at the rosy blush he saw spread across the smoothness of her cheeks. His heart rate picked up, beating quickly inside the prison of his ribs.

  ‘I would never presume to put the manner of my mother’s absence in the same category as yours,’ he said.

  ‘Even so.’ Selina turned back to him and Edward saw new emotion dawning in her eyes. ‘You know how it is to feel that pain.’

  ‘I do. I felt it keenly.’ He tried to smile, but his heart was hammering so fast it hurt him to breathe. ‘In truth, I feel it even to this day.’

  It happened too quickly for him to see—or perhaps it was more that it happened so gradually he didn’t notice. All Edward knew was that Selina reached for him, and this time when their lips met there was nobody there to interrupt.

  Chapter Fourteen

  It was as though Edward’s hands were made of flame as he touched Selina’s skin, leaving behind trails of fire as they traced the slender length of her neck. A strangled cry was dragged from her lips as his fingers continued their steady progress downward, and Edward smiled unseen against the warmth of Selina’s throat.

  Her nightgown lay in a heap on the floor, entangled with the shirt she had helped remove from Edward’s chest with fingers that trembled with desire. She gritted her teeth on a whimper, unable to stop the telltale roll of her hips at the sweet sensations that coursed through her.

  ‘Edward...’

  His name escaped her lips like a plea, although what she was pleading for Selina hardly knew. She had no awareness of anything other than the desperate need within herself that only he could satisfy: her husband—the aggravating, confusing, beautiful man who smiled at her whispering of his name and bent his head to kiss the shivering peak he had awakened, drawing from her another breathy sigh.

  She reached for him with hands made clumsy by want and pulled his face towards her own, her heart pounding in her ears as he captured her lips once more.

  A nagging voice in the back of her mind needled her, whispering for restraint, but Selina could no longer understand the need for her to do anything other than slide her tongue past Edward’s own and feel a rush of heady satisfaction as this time it was his turn to groan, to show her more clearly than words ever could how much his desire for her had grown. His arms wrapped tightly around her, melding her slight frame against the power of his own, and Selina held him to her and felt the muscles in his back shiver beneath her touch.

  His physique was just as impressive as she had dared imagine, although the hair that roughened the broad expanse of his chest had taken her by surprise. It was so much darker than the flaxen thatch on his head, and she had wondered at it momentarily, as she’d pulled Edward’s shirt from his body, leaving only his breeches intact. But then he had taken hold of the hem of her nightgown and begun to inch it higher, sliding his hands against her skin as he followed its progress upwards, and all sensible thought had been chased from her mind by animalistic craving.

  She clung to him, feeling the final dregs of self-control leave her. You shouldn’t be doing this, some distant corner of her mind insisted, its panicked voice sounding far-off and foggy. What would Zillah think? Or Mama? How will you explain yourself?

  The questions were fair ones, Selina conceded with her last ounce of rationality as Edward’s tongue found her ear and traced the lobe, creating splinters of want that lanced through her and turned her limbs to water; but she could no longer fight a losing battle. Her desire for Edward’s touch was too strong, and her newly discovered connection to him as a fellow hurt and frightened child too profound. They had at last found some common ground on which something might be built—something real.

  Selina had found herself reaching for Edward before she even knew what she was doing, spurred on by the powerful sorrow in his face that she knew she so often wore on her own.

  Edward drew back a little, his eyes never leaving the soft landscape of her curves, and ran one strong hand down the length of Selina’s leg. She bucked immediately, her fingers clutching at the sheets that lay tangled beneath her, and when she gazed up at Edward his eyes were burning.

  ‘Have you ever—?’

  Selina stared at him, her chest heaving. Sweat had begun to gather on her skin, its sheen gleaming dimly in the firelight, and she could have sworn she felt the temperature of the room rise at his question. She shook her head, and almost gasped at the intensity of Edward’s answering look.

  ‘No. In my culture, too, that honour is reserved for a woman’s husband.’

  ‘I see.’

  Edward’s voice was low with want; Selina felt herself stir in reply.

  ‘In that case I shall endeavour to make it worth the wait.’

  His eyes devoured her as she lay before him, tawny skin and raven hair laid bare to his hungry gaze. Selina wondered if she ought to feel some sense of shame in being so exposed, in allowing Edward’s eyes and hands free rein to wander where they pleased, but the notion died at the reverence with which he watched her rapt face and she gave herself up to the pleasure that glittered within her body, sparkling through her blood and turning her to pure gold.

  His hands were skilled, urgent and yet gentle, and when they strayed to the secret part of her that nobody else had ever known she shuddered and gasped, her back arching against the pillows where Edward had lain sleepless for so many nights, his mind full of the woman who now writhed in his bed.

  Selina’s brows drew together in an expression of pained ecstasy as Edward’s fingers moved against her sensitive flesh, her breath escaping in a staccato rhythm that matched the frenzied beating of her heart. Her eyes drifted closed and she felt rather than saw Edward lean down to scatter melting kisses across the cage of her ribs, working up from her navel until he reached her fragile collarbone.

  She tried to lift her arms to pull him closer but found all strength had left her. She was rendered immobile by the heat of Edward’s caress. A tiny thread of sound, somewhere between a moan and a sigh, fell from her lips as Edward delved a little deeper, pulling her further and further out to drift in the sea of sensation that he created within her.

  Dimly, as though in a dream, she thought she heard him groan in reply, and she made another attempt to reach for him. This time her hands connected with the firm breadth of his chest, and her eyes opened to see him watching her with undisguised hunger written across his handsome features. The same glint of sweat that ghosted over Selina’s skin seemed to gleam on Edward’s, serving to highlight the contours of his defined muscles despite the snowflakes that swirled against the windows of the chamber and the wind they could hear whistling through the trees outside.

  Splaying her trembling hands against the heated sheets beneath her, Selina pushed herself up, rising unsteadily to her knees. Edward’s gaze never faltered from her face. ‘I think you’re being a little unfair,’ she said.

  ‘Unfair?’ Edward’s voice hitched, his breathing uneven as Selina’s fingers moved to trace patterns across the smooth linen of his breeches.

  There was so much to explore, so much to see, she thought as she stretched up to cover his willing mouth with her own. She didn’t want to waste another mom
ent.

  ‘You seem to be wearing far more clothes than I am. Doesn’t that strike you as a little unjust?’

  She felt him smile against her lips. The deep ache he had awakened within her intensified as he rose from the bed and stood before her, hesitating for the briefest of moments before loosening the fastening at his waist and allowing Selina to see, for the first time other than in her most fevered dreams, the full marvel of his masculine form.

  Some last remnant of propriety caused Selina’s cheeks to burn with fierce heat, adding to the conflagration Edward had inspired inside her, and for several seconds she found herself speechless, unable to conjure up a single word with which to break the taut silence that stretched out between them. He gazed down at her from his great height, eyes molten with need, and Selina could do nothing but drink him in as he stood, tall and proud, with the proof of his desire for her evident for all to see.

  He dropped down to kneel in front of her on the red coverlet he had so carelessly torn from her, grasping her hips to hold her firmly to the hard planes of his body as once again he explored the cavern of her mouth with his clever tongue.

  Selina was aware of the evidence of his longing pressing against her, and she felt the blush climb up from her neck again to suffuse the burning skin of her cheeks, even as she sifted her fingers through Edward’s hair and clung to him, deepening the kiss and exulting to hear his growl of guttural delight.

  Hands still firmly locked around Selina’s waist, Edward gently tipped her backwards, following her as she fell and bracing himself above her on his forearms. The hardness of his belly against the soft skin of her own sent a thrill running through the entirety of Selina’s being, and she swallowed hard at the overwhelming feelings that coursed unchecked within her.

  ‘May I?’

  Edward’s words were quiet in her ear, but Selina heard the hoarse undertone of want and it made her shiver. She looked up into the face of the man above her, barely illuminated by the embers of the fire dying slowly in the grate. His gaze was locked on hers, hazel on black, and even in the depths of his intense need Selina saw how he waited for her signal.

  Her heart was beating so hard and so fast it was almost painful, but she smiled, a slow upward curve of her voluptuous mouth that Edward’s lips soon copied.

  ‘Yes, husband. You may.’

  * * *

  Edward still slept.

  One of his arms was beneath his head and the other rested across Selina’s waist in a gesture so protective she felt a wave of pure contentment steal over her. She lay quietly, unmoving, and drank in the new knowledge of how he looked when those hazel eyes were closed in sleep and the muscles of his face had relaxed completely, with no trace of his usual carefully cultivated smile.

  This was Edward as he truly was, Selina thought wonderingly. Only when he was sleeping could his guard be down entirely. His face was turned slightly away from her, giving her an uninterrupted view of his sharp profile and the scar that gleamed white on his cheek, and Selina had to lock her fingers together on the flat plane of her ribs to stop herself from reaching out to trace it softly, from reading the lines of his face with her hands.

  He shifted slightly, still immersed in whatever dream was currently running through his subconscious, rolling from his side to rest on his back. The movement shifted the sheet he lay beneath, dragging its scanty cover downwards, making it close to being no cover at all, and Selina felt her eyes drift to follow it.

  Whoever could have guessed that a pampered gentleman would have such an impressive physique? she contemplated as she surveyed the peaks and valleys of Edward’s musculature, taut and toned beneath fair skin. His chest resembled that of a hard-working man’s, and his biceps were almost as defined as those that belonged to Roma men with a lifetime of graft under their belts.

  She laced her fingers together again, still fighting the urge to touch. The euphoria of the night still sang in her veins, and she was aware of a growing ache in the muscles of her limbs. It was a sweet ache, similar to the ache she felt the day after a long session breaking in a new horse: painful, but accompanied by such a sense of satisfaction that it made the discomfort bearable.

  She stretched, feeling the tension in her arms as a vivid flashback of what had caused it burst upon her. I wish he’d wake. A thrilling mix of anticipation and anxiety pooled in her stomach. What would his reaction be, waking to find his wife lying beside him in the great red and white expanse of his bed? Pleased, she would hope.

  The reverence with which Edward had touched her burning skin could not be faked, she thought as she drummed a rhythm on her ribs with impatient fingers. They had seemed to join together not just physically but emotionally, connecting in a way she could never have dreamed of. Even sleeping next to him felt natural.

  Selina felt her faith in Edward surge upwards as she waited, nerves fizzing with delicious nervousness, for him to wake. Casting her eye yet again over the sleeping face so close to her own, she tried to pinpoint the moment she had fallen so completely and utterly under his spell. Had it been the first moment she saw him? Or perhaps later, upon finding there was more to him than a handsome face and an even more handsome inheritance?

  Whenever the moment had been, Selina thanked her lucky stars for it—for without the realisation that Edward was everything she had been missing from her life, even without knowing it, she would have continued on as she always had, carrying the unhappy weight of her mother’s death with her for the rest of her days with no one to help her bear it.

  The thought of Diamanda wiped the smile abruptly from Selina’s lips. The memory of Sir William’s ball crashed through her rosy daydreams: Charles Fulbrooke was returning to Blackwell Hall, and if she stayed she would have to see him.

  Selina felt her chest tighten with panic once again as the spectre of the person she least wanted to meet in all the world rose up before her. To set eyes on Charles would be unthinkable, unbearable. Would she faint if he stood in front of her? Or would she simply run wild with fear?

  Edward would never allow any physical harm to come to her, she tried to remind herself as her thoughts began to spiral downwards and her breath became short, but even his protective arms wouldn’t be able shield her from the hatred with which Charles would look at her, and the heart-stopping terror she knew would drive her half-mad at the sight of him. Seeing her mother’s killer would be more than she could bear—an all too real reminder of the nightmare he had forced her to live.

  But what alternative was there? He was Edward’s blood—the only kin he had aside from Ophelia. She couldn’t ask him to refuse the uncle who had been a part of his life for far longer than she had herself. Even if their night together had somehow overcome Edward’s reluctance to care for her, as she hoped so fervently it had, she still couldn’t ask him to choose between his desires and his duty to his family.

  Almost as though his mind had sensed the frenzied activity of her own, Edward’s eyelashes flickered, and Selina watched as his eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the grey light that crept between hastily drawn curtains. Still lying on his back, Edward seemed to study the red canopy above his head for some moments, before rolling over onto his side and fixing Selina with the hazel gaze she had come to adore more than any other.

  There was a genuine smile playing about his lips—an upward curve that made her heart swell painfully with love—but it slid abruptly from his face as he took in the anguished expression on her own.

  * * *

  Edward saw Selina’s distress and wondered, as a tight fist of dismay squeezed the air from his lungs, what could have happened to cause it.

  He had woken slowly, his mind still sluggish as he surfaced from the deepest sleep he had enjoyed in months. The feeble light of a new day assailed his still closed eyelids, and the only sound had been the gentle breathing of someone lying close to him on the rumpled sheets of his formerly lonely bed.

 
The breaths had been quiet and even—quite unlike the fevered panting of the night before—and Edward felt himself stir in response even as his brain shuffled his thoughts into some semblance of order. The uncomfortable feeling of wrinkled blankets under his back served as a reminder of how they had got into such a state, and Edward had felt the stirring grow a little more intense.

  We spent the night together and she’s still in my bed.

  The realisation broke over Edward in a wave of amazed elation as his eyelids had finally struggled open and he’d taken in the red canopy above his head. Whoever said miracles don’t happen?

  Selina’s cheeks were flushed with warmth, rosy against the untidy ebony tresses of hair that tumbled around her unhappy face. One tawny shoulder peeped out from beneath the sheet that shielded her from his gaze, smooth and perfect, and the urge to lean across to kiss it almost took Edward’s breath away. She is utterly beautiful, he thought as his eyes roamed her face, and for the first time felt the true fathomless depth of his adoration for her mingle with his growing concern.

  A powerful sense of vulnerability swept over him now as they stared at each other, neither uttering a word to break the silence. She had completely destroyed all his defences, forcing her way into the heart he had never intended to share with anyone. She had worked herself so irrevocably into his mind and soul that Edward would have nowhere to run if she were to leave him—nowhere to hide from the feelings he had declared to her so unmistakably.

  If she carried on with her plan to leave with her people his heart would be ripped from his chest, but surely she would not abandon him now. They had shared the most profound experience a man and a woman could share, Edward thought dazedly, memorising the pattern of freckles across Selina’s nose as he watched her lovely face intently. There was no way she would return to the Roma—not now she had confirmed, in action rather than words, how her fledgling regard for him had grown into something so precious.