The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 4 (The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Sets)

by Sorcha MacMurrough

  He shrugged. "Pay visits, make calls, ride, oversee the estate and the renovations, go see my bankers in Bristol, shop in Bath or Brimley, read, keep up with my correspondence. That sort of thing."

  "Then you must do all those same things now, not hide in the house hovering in case I should need you."

  "But I shouldn't hide from you either. I've gone from not letting you out of my sight, to avoiding you because I'm never sure what I'm going to do when I see you next."

  "I don't understand what changed, why you've become so diffident."

  He sighed. "You were crying. Told me you didn't need me to be solicitous all the time-"

  "I didn't intend to push you away. I just thought you might be feeling trapped," she admitted, pausing in front of the double doors to the stable.

  "Why were you crying?" he asked softly, steeling himself for her answer.

  "I was thinking about Pa, how pleased he would have been that we were married. That I missed him," she said, her expression open and candid, not the shadowy one he had come to dread. "I didn't mean to make you feel unwanted."

  "Still, I would like to try to control myself a bit more, treat you properly."

  She shook her head. "I don't understand. You've been avoiding me because you think that's what I want?"

  "Partly. And because I can barely keep my hands off you, and that's wrong," he confessed.

  "But I don't want you to."

  "I need to, don't you see? You're still not well, and-"

  She folded her arms and sighed. "It's been over two months now, nearly three. Surely we can't live our marriage as if that one night in the brothel was a defining moment which we are doomed to suffer the consequences of forever."

  "But there is also everything that happened to you before, Althea," he said in a low tone, shuddering. "And I blame myself too for, well-"

  "What?"

  "For taking advantage of you when you were, um, unwell. You probably don't even remember, but I-"

  "I do remember. You're talking about when I was being weaned from my addiction to opium and I sought your comfort, when we made love?"

  He nodded, wringing his hands. "I can't be sure that it was really you, that you really cared about me. And I didn't use protectors. And I was so afraid you would get with child and that I might be hurting you, but I couldn't help myself. I mean, you seemed to enjoy it, but you were also confused with the drugs, and I just made love to you over and over-"

  He at last paused for breath, sucking in a great lungful as he leaned against the stable wall and hung his head.

  "Matthew, please stop punishing yourself for what's only natural between us, this, well, passion we share. It must have been very hard for you tending me like that, but I'm fine. So long as I never have any opium or laudanum again, all will be well. I can only guess how shocking it must have been for you to see me like that. I can recall some of my terrible fears, and hallucinations. It was the drug, not me. I'm not mad, and I really wanted to be with you. I can remember what we shared. I miss it. I adore being in your arms."

  "I know you're not mad. But nor can I be sure of the um, pleasure you felt. If it was not still part of the drug-induced euphoria. That you didn't know what you were doing or saying."

  She wrapped her arms around her slender waist, suddenly feeling chilled. "Was it so horrible? Did I shock or disgust you?"

  He shook his head quickly. "On the contrary. I find I can think of little else but to hold you close."

  "Then why-"

  He toyed with one curl, the ache in his chest and loins almost suffocating in its intensity. "Because you're my wife, a good decent woman. I'm told once a week is more than enough. Twice a week would be overindulging, and-"

  She stared at him in disbelief. "Who on earth told you that?"

  He blushed. "I'm told that respectable women do not have the same level of desire as men. They want it little, we want it all the time. But our staying power is often brief, far too brief where you are concerned, though I do try."

  "And was this one of those bawdy books that pass around the men's clubs? Oh, don't look so surprised. One of my friends saw one once. Her brother brought it home to giggle over. Because if it is, I think it's absurd. There are no rules for being married, a husband and wife being happy together. Our marriage can be as good as we want to make it.

  "I may not have much experience in these matters, but I know what feels pleasant and what doesn't. If you were happy making love with me night after night when we were first married, then we ought to-"

  "No, I can't. It's too-"

  Althea's blue eyes looked up at him in hurt confusion. "I don't understand."

  Matthew remained silent. Even he didn't understand how it was possible to make love with her, have all his needs satisfied and still want her even more than he had done before.

  It had never been like with his mistresses. He had never had anyone with him every night, not even every week. There had been the difficulty of assignations, but sometimes even when he had known Matilda was available he had made excuses, that he had other plans, and gone home alone. They had had a liaison for two years, but he had not been exclusive any more than she had. He'd had a few game Town wives along the way, and she'd had her husband and quite few young bucks in tow.

  He hadn't minded. He had never felt the incredible stirring of the blood he did with Althea. The kind of desire that made him want to stay in bed all night, every night, not just have a quick quiddle before heading home or off to the club for port and cards for the rest of the evening.

  It was all so confusing. How could a little tender young thing like Althea turn his entire world and all he had thought himself certain of upside down in an instant?

  Chapter Thirteen

  They walked on in silence, and soon they had arrived at Eswara Jerome's. "Aren't you coming in?" Althea asked when Matthew hovered outside the open front door, Eswara having told them to come right in.

  "I might as well talk to Blake while I'm here," he said grudgingly.

  "Thank you."

  Matthew crossed the road to his old friend's house, striding up the long drive as though on the most urgent appointment of his life.

  Blake gave him the same reassurance that his aunt had. If he was in love with Althea, desire was only natural. "Belle and I go at it as often as we get the chance. Every night, several times a night when we were first shaking down together. Believe me, once the children come along and you have scarcely any privacy, you'll kick yourself for having missed out," he said with a broad grin.

  "I don't want the children to come along yet," he confessed, then blushed. "It's too soon, she's so young and delicate, and well, Antony warned me about the hell that the children of addicts can go through."

  "That is true."

  "But the protectors, well, she says they hurt. It's taken all the joy out of it, that and me being so nervous."

  "You need to have a lot of moisture to use those successfully. You might want to try some oil, and there are some sponges for your wife to use if she doesn't mind. Or if she is awkward about touching herself, you can help."

  Matthew stared at them in confusion.

  Blake explained patiently.

  "What on earth?" Matthew gasped when the doctor had finished illuminating him. "I couldn't ask her to-"

  Blake laughed. "If she's with Eswara, I imagine that is the first thing she's telling her. You don't have to be a slave to your passions or biology, but can make decisions for yourself about having a child or not. Neither of these methods are completely foolproof, but a lot better than the alternatives. Now let's go on to this idea of yours about what decent wives versus naughty women do and don't do."

  Matthew blushed as Blake gave him a list of ideas to put the romance back in their lives. He was sorely tempted and titillated, but shook his head. "But she was assaulted so cruelly."

  "So was Belle. But she trusts me. We love each other. All the boundaries come down if that's true. Or they should do. I was terri
fied the first time we resumed relations. I had to use protectors because I couldn't be sure she was diseased, and how badly she had been hurt inside. As it turned out he had battered but not raped her, just as Althea has endured."

  "But she endured other things. I'm terrified to touch my wife sometimes. And afraid she will equate it with the horrible circumstances-"

  "I'm not saying Belle doesn't recall what happened. But it fades in time, and a good loving relationship goes a long way to making her feel happy, and not dirty or polluted."

  "Polluted? I'm the one who-"

  Blake sighed and shook his head. "If you've been avoiding her, she's bound to feel rejected, at fault in some way. Especially if you haven't discussed why you've been behaving so oddly. You need to be honest about your thoughts and feelings with her about her, not her attack. Talk to her. Find out what she wants, what makes her happy, what pleases her."

  "Talk to her?" he asked in confusion. "One doesn't discuss-"

  "What, not even with a mistress?"

  He shrugged helplessly. "We just sort of got on with things. Fiddled and twiddled, you know."

  Blake shook his head. "I do, when I was single and still gauche. Oh, mate, you have no idea what you're missing."

  Matthew raised his brows in surprise. "Go on, tell me," he urged curiously.

  Blake took out his pocket watch. "How much time do you have?"

  Matthew gaped. He swallowed hard past the lump in his throat. "Well, start from the beginning and we'll see how we get on."

  "Fine. Have a drink. You might need it. Just try not to get too carried away in the coach on the way home," he said with a knowing wink.

  Althea stared at the sponges Eswara gave her in wonder. She paid rapt attention to her instructions, and agreed to try them. "I'm not that shy about touching myself, my body, for all Matthew thinks I'm a shrinking virgin."

  Then the healer gave her some oils and a few potions to try to help relax Matthew, and some pointers on how to help along her own arousal if things were too painful.

  "First you teach yourself, then you can teach him how to touch you."

  She coloured to the roots of her hair. "I couldn't. What would he say? I mean, he i'supposed to be an expert lover."

  "Say? What is there to say? You just need to ask nicely, be honest. He'll probably ask you to do the same for him."

  "My husband is very worldly. He's probably done it all before. Finds me dull."

  "Hah, rakes? They go at it like rabbits for about two minutes and then shout for their port and a deck of cards. Some of them are slightly better than others, but most assume that dipping into all the wells they can find makes them a good lover. Most never stay around long enough to see if the woman is really pleased.

  "But this isn't really why you came here, is it? I mean, I'm more than happy to educate young brides and husbands, but I see something else in all of this which has caused a lot of pain. If you don't cure it now, you might carry it with you forever. I can see from your expression it's affected your relationship with your husband also. Please, I would like to help."

  Althea looked around worriedly. "Have you time? And are we alone?"

  "I'll make time. And yes, we'll be left alone. I shall tell my maid to bring tea, and that we're not to be disturbed."

  "My husband is over with Blake. He will-"

  "Blake will know how to keep him busy. We'll go over there when we're finished. But we don't have to finish today, merely get to the root of the problem. I'd like to offer you a regular appointment to see me so we can work on your cure."

  She drew in a shuddering breath. "I have much to be cured."

  Eswara gave her a reassuring smile, her golden eyes soft as they rested on Althea's dejected face. "I have much patience."

  So Althea sipped some lovely spiced tea made with milk and cardamom, and recounted as much as she could recall of what had happened to her in her cold, dank prison. She also revealed her addiction, and what she and Matthew had gone through in the brothel and afterwards.

  "I wasn't myself, and I fear I did or said something to make him hate me."

  "I'm sure not," Eswara said, patting her hand kindly. "You are lovely and adore your husband, it's plain to see. But even if you had done something out of character under the influence, Matthew needs to understand that the addiction was an illness. It is no more blameworthy than having gout.

  "It was the drug that caused anything which might be amiss, not the person underneath. And it was no fault of your own. You weren't trying to escape from this life because you were unhappy. You were a bright sunny girl who has been tarnished by the world. A little polishing can bring up your lustre once more."

  "I'd like to believe that. That I could be the same person he once cared for," Althea said breathlessly, her heart soaring at the prospect.

  "But everyone changes, grows up, matures. Perhaps you shouldn't wish to be that little girl again, but rather aspire to be a strong and powerful woman?"

  "Powerful?" She laughed bitterly. "I certainly had no power when they treated me like a slave. I have no power now, when my husband can scarcely bear to be in the same room with me. Uses those horrible sheep's intestines so I don't have children."

  "But don't you see, those things are signs of the power you have over him. He sounds as though he's frightened of you and your power as a woman, the mysterious one of birth. He also sounds like a man struggling to protect you, even from himself."

  "If I'm so powerful, why am I so frightened?" she asked in a tiny whisper.

  "I can understand after all that's happened to you that you have a lot of fears for the future. But I can at least reassure you on a medical level if I examine you. Then we can talk about the rest."

  "All right."

  Eswara led her to examination room, and asked her to strip bare. Althea hesitated only a moment, then complied.

  "No sign of disease," Eswara said some time later. "There is no chance of you being pregnant, though I am not sure about any internal injuries that might be residual from your ordeal. But do you feel well?"

  "I do. Matthew is the one who insists on treating me as if I'm ill all the time," Althea complained.

  "So you feel well physically. What about in you mind?"

  "Anxious, worried about my marriage, and I do miss my father."

  "The first two can be left over from the addiction. Grief is only natural."

  "It isn't just him. I feel like I'm grieving for my lost youth. Not that I want to go back to Surrey or anything. Just that Matthew and I were happy the way we had been before that fateful meeting in the brothel. And yet I've been so happy since in some ways, being his wife. It was my dearest wish. It just, well, it just never came about as I had hoped, with a declaration that he adored me and couldn't live without me."

  "I would hope you could be even happier if we can solve some of these difficulties which have cropped up between you as a result of what happened in London, and what is happening now. Relations between a man and a woman can be truly joyous. I've examined you, and find nothing abnormal or indicative of illness. So as long as you're here naked, I'm going to give you primer on your body. Just relax. I'm not going to touch you, merely guide your own hand. Give you a map, as it were. Let you have some practice with those sponges. We need to teach you about your own body. And later about his. You can being exploring each other's when you are feeling more confident. For the moment, concentrate on yourself. In the bath is always a good, relaxing time."

  She took her through the various parts of her body, even using a mirror to make it what she was looking at and feeling.

  "Gosh, I had no idea. It's sort of pretty, isn't it. Like a pitted peach. And soft like one too."

  "And the sponge doesn't hurt?"

  "No, it was easy compared to what Matthew used. I don't know what he'll say, if it will feel different when, you know, but-"

  "You need to get over this inhibition about talking about it. If you are old enough to have sexual relations, you're ol
d enough to discuss them with your husband. And some men like it when you talk dirty."

  She took a deep, steadying breath. "All right. Maybe it will feel different when he thrusts his huge hard cock right up into me until we both melt. But it's fine now, and would appear much more convenient to use for monthlies than linens."

  Eswara laughed. "Good. So several problems have been solved today, eh?"

  "Thank you, I'm very grateful."

  "I can see you still look worried."

  Althea began to put her clothes back on. "It's just, well, my husband had some very lovely and experienced women warming his bed before we married. I'm afraid that I won't please him after all. Not after the novelty wears off. Men like variety and, well, strange things..."