by Lisa Campell
“Shall I stop?” he asked. If she had said yes, he would’ve dressed her again in a heartbeat. Sebastian Campden might have been notoriously single—he was not a cad.
Eliza shook her head. “Just…please be gentle.” An undercurrent of nervousness had emerged as he made his way down her body. He felt it in the way she shifted her weight, in the trepidation of her gaze.
He squeezed her hand. “Of course.” The pad of his thumb stroked along the line where her thighs met. She bit her lip.
Then he was touching her in ways and places she had never been touched. If the stories of Sebastian’s experience had intimidated her, it was all quickly forgotten once she was able to reap the benefits. She arched her back, her free hand grasping at his fingers.
He brushed his lips against the inside curve of her hip and gave her control, allowed her to guide him to where her body demanded to be caressed. She closed her eyes, sinking into the waves of pleasure washing over her body. Words had left her; the only sounds she made were moans of delight.
Sebastian watched her carefully. His eyes measured the way she reacted to every change in pressure or speed, what made the muscles tense beneath her skin. She stopped guiding him after a little while, reaching out instead to grasp the bedspread. A moment later, he took his hand away.
Eliza stayed frozen in a pool of moonlight, hips lifted as though she were an offering to some ancient god of pleasure. Sebastian let her soak in an instant of breathless anticipation, and then he retraced the path of his fingers with his tongue.
Eliza gasped, her whole torso heaving with the force of her surprise. She tried to say something, but nothing more than a low, shocked cry came out. Her hands moved restlessly from the blankets to his shoulders, his neck, his hair, and back again. She began to shudder beneath him.
“Seb,” she moaned. “Sebastian!” Her peak came so fast that it seemed to blindside her. She cried out again as the sensations rolled through her body, leaving her quaking. He did not stop until she was spent, her skin shining with sweat.
“Yes?” Smiling, he kissed her navel, her breasts, her neck. He had always loved to watch a woman crest that wave of pleasure, and Eliza did not disappoint. She lay panting below him, her eyes slowly opening.
“I’ve never felt that before,” she told him. Sebastian leaned down and kissed her forehead, smoothing her hair out of her face. She laid her hand on his chest. “Thank you.”
He smirked. “Now will you leave me alone?”
“Not when I know you can do that.” She sat up, pressing her head to his. “Let me repay your kindness, Lord Dain.”
Sebastian knew he shouldn’t give in to his own pleasure. He was the risk, as far as making potential children was concerned. And despite the way he had pleased Eliza so readily, he was not willing to chance a conception.
But she had opened his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders so that she could kiss him everywhere her hands touched. The physical sensation tempted him sorely. How easy it would be to allow her to indulge in every part of this new experience. It was, after all, the very thing she’d longed for.
But his deep-seated paranoia regained its hold once she had stripped him to the waist and appeared to be in danger of traveling downward. He caught her by the shoulders and brought her lips back to his. “Not yet, darling.”
“Why?” She couldn’t keep her lips off of him. “It’s not right for you to give me everything and accept so little in return.”
Ordinarily, he would have agreed. Even now, he wanted to. Nevertheless, the heated passion of the moment could not disperse his visions of Teresa, or his uncle in that plain stone building behind the iron fence. Those visions were enough to douse any fire.
“I care only for your satisfaction.” He squeezed her waist. “None at all for my own.”
“That is the most nonsensical thing I’ve ever heard you say, Sebastian.” She pulled back to look at him closely. “Is there something wrong? Did I hurt you?”
“Far from it.” To emphasize the sentiment, he kissed her deeply. “It’s not the right time. You’ll have to trust me.”
“On one condition.” Eliza ran her fingers along the back of his neck. “Stay with me tonight.”
“Must you be such a relentless romantic?” he asked her. The thought of lying down to sleep semi-chastely beside her naked form filled him with reservations. Would he be able to ignore the cries of his libido in the event that she pressed against him in her sleep, or wanted to be held? He considered that the request might be an attempt at total seduction.
But when he looked in her eyes, he saw only warmth. All she wanted, really, was to have him close. And at this point, who was he to deny her that comfort? Perhaps it was time to admit that she wasn’t some wanton he had picked up for a night of fun.
Whether he liked it or not, Eliza was his wife. From that moment forward, Sebastian resolved to treat her accordingly.
Chapter Eleven
Nothing compared to the sheer delight of waking up beside her husband for the first time. Eliza let her eyes open slowly, savoring the warmth of Sebastian’s body next to her among the sheets. She lay still for a little while, listening to the cadence of his breathing. Was he awake? It seemed not.
Moving carefully, so as not to disturb him, Eliza shifted closer, curling up at his side. She tucked her head down against his chest. The steady drum of his heart beat in her ear, almost as loudly as her thoughts. He was so tender in sleep!
The early hours of the morning drifted by as the light from the draped window blended pale yellow into rich gold. Eliza dozed lightly, more than content to be wrapped, however loosely, in Sebastian’s arms. Whether he would consent to hold her this way in his waking hours, she could not predict, and so she had decided to take every little moment she could get.
Eventually, the dreamlike reverie came to an end. Sebastian stirred to consciousness, his hand brushing over the small of her back. Eliza felt his breath catch momentarily, and then he sighed.
“Surely you don’t intend to trap me here all day,” he murmured, his voice still slightly thick with sleep. “Contrary to popular belief, I am a gentleman, and have matters to attend to.”
Eliza smiled in spite of herself. She looked up at him, privately marveling at the fact that a gentleman could look so handsome before his day had even begun. To her surprise, Sebastian didn’t move right away. He lingered for a few precious moments with his arm around her, keeping her close.
When he sat up at last, the distance was immediately palpable. Eliza missed the comfort of his embrace already, as relatively casual as it might have been. She pulled the covers in tighter, and again, Sebastian paused. He glanced over his shoulder at her. There was something soft in his clear blue eyes.
“You know this can’t change things,” he said quietly. With the backs of his fingers, he brushed a lock of her hair out of her eyes. “We must continue as we intended. Or at least, as I intended.” He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Forgive me, my dear. And trust me when I tell you this is the way things must be.”
Eliza did trust Sebastian about most things, but she wasn’t so sure this time. She watched him get up and walk away from her, toward the door. He placed his hand on the doorknob and looked back at her one more time. She waited, unsure of what to expect.
“I’ll tell the kitchen to start breakfast. You’ll join me, won’t you?”
Hardly the profound romantic insight she had hoped for. Eliza smiled slightly, hoping it was enough to conceal her disappointment. “Yes, of course.”
Sebastian nodded. “Good.” Then he was gone, the door easing shut behind him.
Eliza frowned at the ceiling. She had thought, with the most recent physical congress, that they might finally have made some kind of breakthrough in their relationship. But stubborn Sebastian hadn’t budged an inch. She couldn’t help feeling that he was indulging some well-meaning fantasy of her needs.
As if one night of passion should be enough to satisfy her! Eliza rolled h
er eyes. If only that was all she desired. She got up and dressed slowly, half dreading the emotional ordeal of sitting at breakfast with him and pretending they just happened to be living in the same house.
“All I want is to be his wife,” she muttered to herself. Out loud, it sounded so deceptively simple. But Sebastian had made it abundantly clear that such matters would never be simple with him.
He was reading the paper when she entered the dining room, the morning’s postal delivery in a pile on the tabletop. Eliza took her seat as the servants brought out the tea service. She sipped in silence and read the paper’s back page. The quiet lull in the dining room felt awkward and unyielding, especially in contrast to the heat they had shared just the night before.
Sebastian lowered the paper and reached for a roll and a dollop of butter. “How was your rest?” he asked idly. “Fulfilling, I hope.” The edge of the butter knife scraped gently across the bread. Eliza felt as though he was suddenly treating her like a guest at his estate, rather than his wife. She could sense him replacing the distance that had been there before, slowly and carefully.
And right then, sitting at the breakfast table and watching him butter his roll, she decided she simply couldn’t stand it. If he refused to stop misinterpreting her needs, she’d have to voice them until he understood. “Sebastian—”
He plucked a letter off the top of the stack on the table and passed it over to her. “By the way, this arrived for us. It’s from Judith.”
“Judith?” Her thoughts momentarily and masterfully derailed, Eliza glanced at the front of the envelope. She recognized her sister-in-law’s beautiful handwriting at once, Sebastian’s title and hers lettered in graceful, sweeping strokes. Lord and Lady Dain
Oh, if only it were true in more than name! Eliza held back a wistful sigh. She turned the letter over and opened the seal, unfolding it. The parchment bore an invitation to a private ball. At first, a thrill of childish excitement shot through Eliza. Even after the horrendous experience of her coming out, she hadn’t fully outgrown the anticipation of a formal event. It would be the first with her husband at her side, no less.
A pit dropped into Eliza’s stomach, destroying her appetite. Even the next sip of tea was cold and tasteless on her tongue as she thought of returning to the terrace at Colchester Manor.
“Eliza?” Sebastian’s voice, sharpened by concern, worked its way into her awareness. “Bad news? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He reached out his hand for the invitation and she gave it over numbly. His blue eyes scanned the words. “Why, I would think you’d be elated for an occasion such as this.”
She swallowed hard and faked a bright smile. “Don’t be silly, Seb. I couldn’t be happier.” Now it was her turn to spread some preserves on a roll, despite knowing she could barely stomach it. “We’ll be attending, won’t we?”
He regarded her closely, skeptical of her enthusiasm. “If it pleases you, sure.” He hesitated. “You know, it’s all right with me if you’d rather not.”
As tempting as it was to admit her reluctance and thus save herself from having to relive the trauma of that fateful night, Eliza knew she could not. She shook her head firmly. “Judith would be utterly heartbroken. She’s my closest friend.” Eliza took the invitation card back and tucked it away. “I shall call on her this afternoon with our response.”
Sebastian turned back to his breakfast, plainly unconvinced. “If it pleases you.”
It did not, in fact, please Eliza in the slightest. She stewed on the issue for some hours longer, debating the best way to ask Judith what she was thinking. The mere thought of setting foot inside her own family’s manor made Eliza’s head spin. It would be utterly impossible to enjoy herself! And she was certain her nerves would make a fool of both her and Sebastian.
She would go that day, she thought. See if she couldn’t temper the bite.
The housekeeper at Colchester Manor received her graciously, as all the servants did. Eliza could not say she missed her family home with the intensity she might have, were it not for the memories of living there in the shame of her scandal. Still, walking the hall toward the familiar parlor always filled her with fresh, fond nostalgia.
“Eliza! It’s wonderful to see you, darling.” Judith embraced her readily. “Come in, come in. I had hoped you might drop in for a visit today.”
“I wanted to be sure you knew we received your invitation,” Eliza told her cheerfully. Her unhappiness at Judith’s choice of venue for the ball faded in person; she couldn’t accuse sweet Judith of willful malice.
But Judith, to her credit, appeared to have anticipated a conflict. “Yes,” she said, somewhat timidly, fidgeting with her hands. “I did send those out, didn’t I?”
“Sebastian and I will be in attendance.” Eliza smiled reassuringly. “You know I couldn’t bear to miss a single one of your events, dear sister. Even if they are being held in places I daren’t go on my own.”
“Goodness, I’m so relieved!” The exclamation burst from Judith’s lips as if she had held it under pressure for hours. “You must accept my sincerest apologies, Eliza. I had intended to have the festivities elsewhere, but your brother is so stubborn…” She trailed off, exasperated. “Speaking of, let us take a walk in the garden. He hasn’t yet left for Westminster.”
Eliza steeled herself to see the garden that she had, thusfar been able to avoid. In the daylight, it seemed a different place.
The ladies walked the cobblestone paths arm in arm. Eliza loved her brother, but she was glad to be out of range of his possible scrutiny. No doubt he’d ask after Sebastian, and that was not a topic she felt she could breach without complicated emotions.
“I’ll admit I won’t be happy to return,” Eliza said now, circling back to the subject of Judith’s ball. “But perhaps a new event will help to paper over my last great embarrassment.”
“Worry not, dear Eliza.” Judith patted her hand. “I’ve heard no such talk of late. The Earl of Wyhurst is certainly not invited. He has doubtless found another poor young lady to pursue.” She made a disgusted face. “I shudder to think of it, frankly.”
Eliza agreed. “As do I.” She had devoted precious few thoughts to the dastardly Earl, which she took as a positive, healing sign. It was as if her marriage to Sebastian had blunted the edge of Lord Wyhurst’s ignoble intentions. That was, of course, precisely what Sebastian had intended.
Judith prodded her teasingly. “Are you anxious to be seen stepping out with your fine new husband?” She grinned, her pale eyes sparkling with a bit of the mischief she kept hidden to most. “I don’t doubt you make a handsome couple.”
Try as she might, Eliza was unable to stem the rush of blood to her cheeks. She looked away. “We may, but I wish he might acknowledge it.” She let out her breath. “I know he said he didn’t want a real wife. I just didn’t know he meant it.”
Judith’s sympathies were real. “That’s just how Seb talks. He’ll come around.”
Eliza chewed her bottom lip. “When? In this lifetime, if I’m lucky.” She let herself sulk for a moment. “How difficult it is to be wed to a man who shows no interest in the marriage. You and my brother are so fortunate to have each other.”
“That we are,” Judith admitted. She paused. “Do you regret marrying Seb?”
The answer came more quickly than anything Eliza had said since arriving at the house. “No! Not at all.” Feeling the need to qualify her conviction, she added, “I’ll be forever grateful to him for what he did. He saved my reputation, and me. I can’t imagine having to wed the Earl of Wyhurst. I would have been ruined.”
“I sense a shadow behind your words,” Judith remarked. “But I won’t press you further. Let us enjoy the afternoon, Eliza. Put your worries away for a while.” The topic of conversation moved to softer, lighter things, such as what music and menu Judith was considering for the ball. In the back of her mind, Eliza kept thinking about her husband.
She couldn’t help feeling just a little app
rehensive about how that upcoming night was going to go.
Chapter Twelve
Sebastian saw himself trapped in a quandary from which there appeared to be no escape. Deep down, he was thrilled to be attending an event in Eliza’s company, to have her on his arm for all the ton to see. Under different, happier circumstances, it would have been a dream come true to be with her. It still was, in a way. No one could deny that Eliza was beautiful—Sebastian least of all.
He desired her deeply, and as much as he attempted to keep her at arm’s length, the emotional distance he had once been so adamant about was gradually lessening by the day. Sebastian had known, in his heart of hearts, that to sleep with her in any fashion would only make things more difficult. Truthfully, he simply hadn’t been able to resist any longer.
Eliza was the lady of his dreams! How he longed to allow himself the luxury of indulging the forbidden feelings that lurked just below the surface and threatened to burst forth every time their eyes met. He didn’t want to believe he could be blissfully happy with anyone by his side, and yet there she was. It pained him to know his actions hurt her. But his own dark history was just too much to explain.