“I will draft a letter to the agency this very moment, my lord.”
“If you do not return within ten minutes—” Dare growled.
Batsfoam assured him the note would take but the merest moment to complete.
“I’m sure Patricia’s maid will help you tonight with…er…” Dare frowned at Batsfoam and Wills, waiting until they had left before gesturing toward Charlotte’s midsection. “…with your gown and such.”
She nodded and waited for him to make reference to his participation in the activities on the schedule for later. She waited in vain.
“Would you like me to show you what I’m working on now?” Dare offered. “It’s just the air pump and a condenser, but you might find it interesting.”
Charlotte thought that was hardly likely, but mindful of the newly born desire to make her husband happy, she bent forward to look at a collection of tubes, valves, and other assorted mechanical devices that Dare indicated.
“It’s part of my double-acting engine. What you see here is just part of the engine; the whole thing is made up of a steam cylinder, a stern wheel, the boiler, and the air pump and condenser. Working together, they turn the connecting rod connected to a paddle wheel, and that propels the boat without it having to recourse to manual labor or wind.”
Charlotte, first inclined to yawn at the sight of the unintelligible mass of metal, couldn’t help but notice the excitement in Dare’s voice when he described—in terms she couldn’t even begin to understand—the basic principles behind steam engine travel. She watched him closely as he talked and pointed out various bits and pieces to the condenser, explained how an air pump worked, and detailed the dangers involved in designing an engine meant to work with salt water. She listened and nodded, but all she really saw was how much regard he held for the project.
“This is important to you,” she said in dawning awareness. “Very important, isn’t it?”
He bent an admonishing eye upon her as he took another rag—clean, she noticed—and polished the glass face of a gauge. “It’s important to both of us, Charlotte. The success of my engine means our success, no more, no less. Without it…well, without it our future is dark.”
“Oh, you’re overexaggerating.” She smiled. “How can our future be dark? You are an earl, an important man, you have a lovely and charming wife who is sure to take the ton by storm, thereby doing great credit by you. I am sure to give you handsome children, assuming, that is, that your manly instrument is agreeable, and I see no reason why it should not be, not that I ever understood why Antonio’s wouldn’t even twitch for me, but truly, that is neither here nor there. We have a perfectly glorious future—what could possibly threaten it?”
Dare stopped polishing and shook his head for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose as he said, “Let’s take that slowly, shall we? In small chunks, so it’s easier to understand. First of all, my title has nothing to do with our future happiness. All that I gained when the title came to me was a mountain of debts I couldn’t possibly pay off in one lifetime, and three estates in such dire circumstances it would take a miracle to make them self-supporting.”
Charlotte smiled sympathetically at her husband. Imagine believing an earldom had nothing to do with happiness. Still, he clearly had some strong feelings on the subject. An indefinable need to comfort him by some wifely means swept over her, generating a bright, shining idea in her mind. She would comfort him! He was upset, and she was his wife; therefore, it was her duty to comfort him. She wondered briefly how to go about doing that since she’d never actually comforted a man before, let alone a husband. Whenever Antonio was upset, he’d just go off to be with his sheep. Still, it couldn’t be that difficult. People, she was sure, were comforted all the time. She was an intelligent woman. If she put her mind to it, she could deduce the proper steps needed to undertake a successful comforting.
“Secondly, you won’t be in town long enough to take the ton by storm.”
Charlotte racked her brain for comforting gestures. From a distant corner of her mind the memory arose of when she was a little child, and of how her mother used to rub her back when she was ill. That was just what he needed! A tender smile graced her lips as she glided over to where Dare stood and placed her palm on his back, gazing up into his eyes with what she hoped looked like wifely concern. Inside, she was sure, it looked like desire, but hopefully he wouldn’t notice it. She was almost certain that desire had no part in general comforting.
“Third, you seem not to be listening at all when I tell you that I’m not a rich man, so I will tell you again: I am not exaggerating, Charlotte. I told you before we wed that you would have to manage with economizing most stringently. I don’t have the money to buy you a new wardrobe, or take you on trips, or any of the myriad other things you will no doubt demand as your due. All the household are doing their part to help, and I expect no less from my wife.”
Charlotte let her fingers wander over the muscled planes of his back, her entire being focused on the sensation of heat that flowed from his flesh through the soft linen of his shirt to her fingertips. She started rubbing small circles on his spine as her mother had done, but soon she was mapping out the terrain of his back with long, languid strokes that made every part of her aware that she was a woman, he was a man, and they were alone together. Legally wed. Able to procreate without censure or condemnation.
“Fourth,” Dare stammered, his eyes a bit wild around the edges as she moved around behind him to use her other hand as well. She felt a bit flushed, but she was determined to see the comforting through to the end. It was her duty, and she was ever a dutiful wife. “About your expectations with regards to my manly…er…”
Charlotte was suddenly desperate to touch his flesh. She tugged at the shirt until it pulled free of his trousers, slipping her hands beneath to where his flesh beckoned and called to her.
“So hot,” she breathed, running her fingers over every muscled bulge and valley, tracing the line of his ribs, overwhelmed with the sense and feel and scent of him until she had to lean forward and press her face against his shirt. “You make me feel so hot, husband. You make me feel as if I’m on fire.”
Dare groaned and quickly ripped his shirt off even as he turned to gather her in his arms.
“Charlotte, it’s very important that you listen to what I’m going to say,” he told her, his breath hot on her lips, but she didn’t have the time or energy to focus on his words. Words weren’t important—the heat that was building inside of her was. Fire, she thought to herself as she molded her hands up his chest and over his shoulders. He was like fire in her blood, making her burn with desire and need and all sorts of sensual, shameful things that her womanly parts were demanding with each breath Dare drew. She threaded her fingers through his golden hair and tugged.
“It’s your fault I’m on fire; do something about it,” she demanded, tilting her head back, offering her mouth even as she wondered if she could stand the inferno his kiss was sure to cause.
“I’m sorry you’re on fire,” he said, his lips teasing hers with tiny little nips that made her squirm against him.
“Are you truly?” She rubbed herself against him, her body needing the hard touch of his.
“No,” he said just before he claimed her mouth. Charlotte pressed herself even closer as his tongue swept inside her. She was eager to taste him, welcoming his outrageous demand that she submit to him. Charlotte had never submitted to any man in her life, but there was just something truly phenomenal about Dare—she thought it might be his tongue—that crumbled all her resistance until it was only the vaguest memory.
“Charlotte.” Dare’s breathing was hot and ragged as he tore his mouth from hers. She whimpered and tugged on his head to make him kiss her again.
“No, Charlotte, you have to listen to me.” Dare seemed out of breath, angry even as he tightened his jaw. Charlotte leaned forward to k
iss a trail along it. He moaned softly into her hair, his fingers flexing into her hips before he suddenly, inexplicably, cruelly pushed her away from the warm haven of his body. “Stop trying to drive me insane! A man can take only so much, woman! Stay there, right there, don’t move an inch. Just stand right there and I’ll stand here and then you won’t drive me mad with your lips and…your…”
Charlotte, her restless body set aflame with the desire evident in his eyes, moved forward.
“STOP!” he yelled, and retreated behind the machine. “Stay there, and stop looking at my chest like that or I won’t be able to control myself.”
“But I don’t want you to control yourself. I want you to be wild, just like your tongue when you kiss me. I’ve never thought a tongue could be so thrilling, but yours is. I like how it dances all over my mouth. I like how it strokes and teases and turns quite bossy with my tongue. And I can’t stop looking at your chest, I like it. I want to touch your chest. I want to taste it, too. Don’t you want me to taste it?”
Dare took a deep, shuddery breath as he ran an agitated hand through his hair. “God give me the strength to survive this night. Stop thinking of my tongue and my chest and the hot silkiness of your mouth and how your breasts fit perfectly into my hands and the alluring way your hips curve just right, and listen to me. What I have to say to you is important. It’s vital that you understand me.”
What with all the talk of hips and breasts and tongues, not to mention the wild, nearly uncontrolled look in her husband’s eyes, Charlotte couldn’t help but blink back disappointment that he wasn’t attacking her and ravishing her on the spot, although she conceded that ravishment on a dirt floor was probably not the most comfortable of experiences.
“Very well,” she said, clutching her hands to keep from reaching out to stroke all that lovely golden skin. “As you don’t wish for me to taste you and touch you and perhaps stroke your manly instrument in the manner that Vyvyan La Blue says is most effective, then I shall stand here and listen to you.”
Dare closed his eyes for a moment and swallowed hard. Twice. “Thank you.”
“I will, however, continue to think about your tongue.”
A tremor rippled through his powerful frame.
He gripped the machinery before him with both hands. He seemed to be having some sort of difficulty with his jaw, because his words came out tight and sharp. “I am a man of honor. When you trapped me into marriage with you, I was well within my rights to expose you and leave you to the condemnation of the ton. But I didn’t do that. I didn’t allow you to become an object of pity and scorn. I offered for you publicly, and I wed you publicly.”
Charlotte nodded. She stepped to the side to better see his groin.
“You will admit that I could have left you with your breeches dangling around your knees, and walked away without further consequence to me.”
Charlotte narrowed her eyes. She was familiar enough with male anatomy to know what she was looking at. She waited, watching for the sign.
“That I married you proves I have honor. That I refuse to touch you until such time as I desire it, proves I am in control of my life regardless of your plans otherwise. I will not have a woman, any woman, dictating to me what I shall and shall not do. I realize you want children someday, that you…er…embrace the physical side of marriage, but you must understand that I will be the master in my own home.” Dare paused for a moment, his breath hissing through clenched teeth. Charlotte leaned closer, her eyes on the tautly stretched fabric concealing his manly instrument. Her fingers itched to touch him.
“WHY THE HELL ARE YOU STARING AT MY CROTCH LIKE THAT?”
Charlotte jumped at the bellow, her gaze snapping up to meet infuriated blue eyes. “I was waiting to see if you twitched,” she explained. The man certainly had a lot to learn about marriage if he didn’t know all the specifics about bedding his wife. Everyone knew there had to be twitching before the bedding could begin.
Dare certainly looked a bit deranged as he ran a hand through his hair again, his eyes blazing, his broad, manly chest rising and falling with quick breaths. She wondered if she should comfort him again.
“Twitched? Did you say twitched? Do I understand you correctly? You are watching my crotch to see if my…er…twitches?”
Regretfully, Charlotte decided that now was not the time to comfort by physical touch. Instead, she would contrive to comfort him from where she stood. She smiled a calm, gentle smile that radiated soothing thoughts. “Yes. It’s very simple, really. Would you like me to explain it to you?”
Disbelief, amusement, and resignation paraded across his face. “Yes,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning one hip up against the machine. “Please. Enlighten me.”
Charlotte had a hard time swallowing at the sight of all those muscles bunched, but she made an effort. She was, after all, supposed to be comforting him. The poor man was obviously clueless about how things worked in a marriage. As the wiser, more experienced partner, it was up to her to fill him in on the fine details.
“The harlot I consulted in Italy was most specific about what was necessary for a bedding,” she began.
“Harlot?” Dare blinked a couple of times at her. “You consulted a harlot?”
“Yes, for Antonio. His manly instrument didn’t work correctly, and so I went to a harlot to see what I could do to help it. Her advice was sound, I’m sure, so you needn’t worry that just because it did not work on Antonio, it won’t work on you—”
“One moment.” Dare held up a hand to stop her. She clutched her hands tighter and made an effort to send calming rays of comfort toward him. “Are you telling me that your husband couldn’t…er…couldn’t maintain an erection?”
“Erection!” Charlotte beamed at him. “What a very good word that is. Apropos, too. Erection. I like that. Yes, the answer to your question is no, Antonio’s manly instrument refused to erect for me.”
Dare rubbed a hand over his face. His voice sounded as if it were stretched as thin as taffy. “You’re a virgin?”
A faint blush made its way up her cheeks, but she ignored it. This was her husband she was speaking to. Such discussions as virginity and the erections of manly instruments were allowed with him. She shook her head.
“So he consummated your marriage?”
She nodded, happy that he understood. “Yes, the night we were wed.”
“Just…er…just the once? He never gave you pleasure any other time?”
“No. As I said, his manly instrument didn’t care for the erecting process. Which brings me back to the harlot—she said, and quite sensibly I think, that twitching indicates an interest on the owner’s part. Your manly instrument seems to be capable of the erecting process. Thus I was watching for the twitching to tell me whether or not you find me toothsome.”
Dare stared at her for a second before throwing his head back and laughing. Charlotte frowned. There seemed to be a pronounced note of hysteria in his laugh, and to be truthful, she didn’t see what he found so funny. She was being as honest and instructive as she could be—helpful, too. How many wives, she wondered, would take the time to share their knowledge with their husbands?
“I was only mildly curious, you understand,” she said with great dignity, ignoring her husband, who was still howling with laughter. Really, she was almost offended by his reaction to her offer of help. “Antonio’s instrument didn’t find me erect-worthy. I just thought I’d see how yours felt about the subject. And I must add, I think it’s quite rude for you to carry on in this manner when all I was trying to do was give you the benefit of my experience as a wife of four years. Most men, I imagine, would be happy to have such knowledge imparted to them!”
Dare wiped his eyes and made an effort to stop laughing. “Charlotte, you might as well be a virgin for all the experience and knowledge of men you have.”
Charlotte
tightened her lips. He was laughing at her! All because Antonio’s instrument hadn’t liked her. Tears pricked at the back of her eyes, but before she could do more than allow her lower lip to tremble, he was there before her, all golden skin and muscles and a wonderful scent that was pure Dare. He took her hands in his, kissing the back of each.
“I wasn’t insulting you. I’m sorry if you think I was. I am humble and honest enough to admit that a part of me is pleased you are virtually all but untouched.”
She allowed herself to be mollified and was about to bestow upon him her best dimpled smile when he went and ruined her good mood.
“But it changes nothing. I am in earnest, wife. I will not allow you to cozen me into your bed. I will bed you if, and when, I choose. No amount of kisses and seductive looks and teary entreaties will stir me. Do you understand?”
Charlotte stared at him in horror. He couldn’t be serious. Could he? No. He was overwrought. He needed more comforting. He was worried about the something blocking something else in his engine that could explode. That was all. Still… “You’re not serious?”
He nodded, releasing her hands as he turned back to his machine. He picked up his cloth and resumed polishing the gauge. “You wanted marriage, you trapped me into it, but I will be the master of my own fate. Now, it’s late, I suggest you go to bed. Have Patricia’s maid attend you. I will see you in the morning, when we will go over the household budget.”
“But…but your manly instrument! It’s erecting all over the place! Just look at it; it wants me!”
Dare refused her invitation to gaze upon his groin. Charlotte would have insisted, but she had to admit he looked as if he were at the end of his patience.
“That doesn’t mean I’m going to bed you.”
“That’s…that’s…surely that’s not legal, is it? You can’t not bed me!”
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