The Bedding Proposal

by Tracy Anne Warren

  “Oh, she’s a love,” Thalia said with a delighted sigh. “She’s got spirit, but she’ll be no trouble at all. Will you, girl?”

  She patted her again and the horse tossed her head as if agreeing.

  Thalia laughed, a wide smile on her rosy lips.

  As it had once before, Leo’s chest swelled with emotion as he watched her. He drank in her beauty, not just its outward manifestation, but the radiance of the soul he knew lay underneath.

  Each day he came to know her a little better.

  Every day he wanted to know more, be with her more.

  Would a time ever come when he wanted that to stop? Right now, he couldn’t imagine it.

  Somehow he didn’t think he would ever be able to imagine it.

  He cleared his throat. “If it weren’t for this weather, I would suggest we ride out now. How about tomorrow morning instead?”

  She nodded, still stroking a palm over Athena’s red-brown neck and shoulders. “Tomorrow morning sounds excellent.”

  “In the meantime, why don’t we go inside and you can try on your new gowns?” He leaned closer so only Thalia could hear. “Then afterward, I can enjoy taking them off of you again.”

  Her eyes grew dark with sudden desire.

  After giving the horse a final farewell pat and receiving a promise from the groom that the mare would get an extra scoop of oats in that night’s feed, she let Leo slide his arm around her waist.

  Huddled together under the umbrella, they hurried through the rain and back inside the house.

  * * *

  Many hours later, darkness having long since fallen, Thalia lay in bed, warm and replete inside Leo’s arms, her head cushioned on his shoulder.

  She skimmed her fingers in a lazy arc over his chest, then slowly leaned up to kiss him. “Thank you,” she murmured.

  “Considering the evening we’ve had, I should be the one thanking you.” He ran a hand across her naked back, then lower to lightly cup her bottom. “But somehow I get the feeling you mean something else.”

  “What I mean is thank you for today. Thank you for giving me the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

  He arched a dark gold brow. “Ever?”

  “Yes, ever.”

  “Not even as a child?”

  She shook her head. “Any parties we had were always far more about my mother than me. One year she didn’t even invite any children. Just her friends. As I recall, I spent most of the day alone in the nursery with a book and was glad of it.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Seven, I think.”

  “That’s awful.”

  “Oh, it wasn’t so bad.” She shrugged. “My parents were often self-involved and thoughtless, but they could be kind as well. I never wanted for anything, not really. And it wasn’t as if they did anything so very dreadful. It’s not as if they beat me.”

  “I should think not,” he said, his words gruff as if he couldn’t even conceive of such an idea.

  She looked away, repressing the sudden urge to shiver as other, darker memories came upon her. But just as quickly, she pushed them aside. She wasn’t going to let anything ruin these moments with Leo, certainly not the past.

  “I just wanted you to know,” she said, gazing deeply into his eyes, “wanted to thank you for giving me this one, absolutely perfect day.”

  His arm tightened around her. “I would give you more. I would shower you with anything you desired, if only you would let me.”

  She shook her head. “This is enough. More than enough. I learned long ago never to be too greedy. It makes the disappointments that much easier to bear.”

  “Why do you assume there will be disappointments?”

  “Because that is the way life is.”

  “Not always.”

  His hand caressed her lower back, sending ripples of pleasure in its wake.

  “No,” she agreed quietly, “not always.”

  Reaching up, she pressed her palm to his cheek, his skin faintly rough with a day’s growth of whiskers.

  But she didn’t mind. She liked everything about Leo, even a little bristle.

  “Make love to me again,” she whispered.

  A look of desire came into his eyes; it was an expression she had come to know well.

  “Gladly,” he said, with husky purpose.

  Fitting his mouth to hers, he claimed her with a passionate intensity that quickly robbed her mind of everything but him. She kissed him back, eager and needy, knowing he was the very best present of all.

  Her bare skin slid in a sinuous glide against his, her pulse pounding out a wild beat with every new kiss and caress. She met his ardor with her own, demanding, almost greedy, giving and taking until she lost herself in the feverish joy of their union.

  She arched, crying out as he lifted her up and over him to bury himself deep inside.

  She sighed at the utter perfection, marveling at how right it was with him.

  Only him.

  And she felt possessed in those moments, changed in some unalterable way as if her very bones and blood were being melted away and re-formed. As if her life was no longer wholly her own and she would be cast adrift without him.

  She trembled, suddenly afraid.

  But then he surged within her, driving her, forcing the pleasure to a delirious peak that made her body sing and her senses fly free.

  And she soared, awash with happiness as she crashed blissfully back down to earth, secure in the unbreakable bonds of his arms.

  * * *

  Leo joined Thalia for her inaugural ride on Athena the following morning. As usual, he’d awakened early and gone back to Cavendish Square to bathe and change clothes. He’d left again straight after, riding his stallion back to Thalia’s town house so they could head out together for a morning gallop in the park.

  The little roan mare had behaved even better than he and Thalia had predicted, the horse warming immediately to Thalia’s skilled yet gentle touch.

  Thalia was smiling broadly, her eyes bright with excitement, cheeks pink from the exercise and bracing fresh air by the time they returned to her town house for breakfast.

  The two of them indulged in a hearty meal at her dining room table, enlivened by delicious offerings from yesterday’s birthday hamper and a seemingly endless supply of enjoyable conversation.

  All the rooms in the house were warm now, thanks to the stacks of firewood and a load of coal that had been delivered. And though he had decided not to mention it to Thalia for fear of provoking a fresh argument, another such delivery was scheduled to arrive at Christmastide—more than enough fuel to last her through the winter.

  To his amazement, he discovered that Thalia had never visited the Tower of London or seen the crown jewels. So they spent the afternoon touring the great edifice on the banks of the Thames, looking like just another pair of sightseers rather than the experienced city dwellers that they were.

  Afterward he convinced her to put on her new evening gown, then took her to the Clarendon Hotel for an excellent meal prepared by the great French chef Jacquiers, former servant of Louis XVIII.

  She confided that the experience was another first for her, since she had never before dined out in a hotel with a gentleman or eaten authentic French cuisine that was generally considered as good as the finest fare served in Paris. The sheltered, gently bred ladies of the Ton, she told him on the drive home, had no idea what delights they were missing.

  “Perhaps there are some benefits to being a disgraced, scandalous divorcée, after all.” She smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder. “I never had fun like this when I was married.”

  But the most fun of all awaited them when they returned for the final time to her town house and went to bed. There in the quiet candlelight, they made exquisite love, feasting on each other while they indulged in a panoply of the carnal pleasures.

  He brought her to her peak more than once, loving the breathy little sounds she made as he roused her, and her frantic
cries of completion, which he had to smother with hard kisses or into the pillows so she wouldn’t wake the house.

  His own releases were powerful, leaving him exhausted and satisfied, yet somehow ready for more. He felt bewitched in her arms, whole in a way he couldn’t explain.

  Their final time was the best of all as he thrust into her with wild abandon, her arms and legs clenched high and tight around his back, her eyes locked with his, neither of them able to look away. He’d shuddered violently as he took his pleasure, her climax still quaking through her body and into his with a force that intensified and prolonged his own.

  Later in the dark, he held her and listened to her sleep. He knew he needed to do the same, but somehow he didn’t want to give up the moment.

  He was too content, too replete.

  She made him happy in ways even he wasn’t sure he fully understood yet.

  For the first time since he’d met her, he wasn’t certain of the future. It was still early days in their affair and yet he couldn’t see himself growing tired of her.

  Or wanting things to end.

  Yet what of her?

  In so many ways, she was still a mystery to him. For all their closeness, he sensed there was a part of her that she kept bound tightly away.

  Hidden and her own.

  He wanted to know what that something was, to unlock all her deepest secrets so nothing stood between them.

  I will know, he vowed. With patience I will know everything, know her inside and out.

  He ran a hand over her hair, smiling as she sighed in her sleep and snuggled closer.

  Dropping a kiss on her forehead, he closed his eyes and willed himself to join her in the world of dreams.

  Chapter 26

  Thalia opened her eyes and stretched against the rumpled bedsheets where she lay warm and rested. Rolling her head on the pillow that still bore traces of Leo’s scent, she gazed out the window at the white flakes of lightly falling snow.

  December truly was upon them, Christmas just around the corner. She couldn’t believe how quickly the last six and a half weeks had passed—the most wonderful six and a half weeks of her life.

  But tomorrow her idyll would end, temporarily at least, since Leo was leaving to spend the holiday with his family at Braebourne, the Byron family’s ancestral estate.

  Initially, he’d planned to stay in London and spend Christmas with her, but she’d talked him out of it.

  “Your family is counting on you being with them,” she’d said. “They’ll be hurt if you don’t go.”

  “There are so many of us these days, especially now that all my older siblings have families of their own. I doubt I’d even be missed,” he’d answered with self-deprecating humor.

  But she hadn’t been convinced.

  “Somehow I think they’d notice your absence. You’re far too dynamic a personality to fade into the background, even if Braebourne is overrun with dozens and dozens of relations.” She took his hand. “Go. Be with your family. I will be here when you get back.”

  He’d frowned. “And what of you? How will you spend the holiday?”

  “The same as I always do.” She’d shrugged as if it made no difference to her, when in reality she was dying inside at the idea of being alone and without him.

  She’d forced a smile. “The staff always makes me a lovely meal and we pull Christmas crackers together. Later, Hera and I usually curl up in front of the fire with a good book and a cup of hot wassail.”

  “It sounds lonely. I’ll stay.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  As much as she wanted him with her, she didn’t wish to tear him away from his people, to cause a rift with his family over her.

  “Besides, I forgot to tell you that my friend Jane Frost will be in Town and has promised to drop by for a cup of syllabub that afternoon. I shall be quite entertained.”

  It wasn’t a complete lie, since Jane had written to say that she was coming into the city. But it would be a quick visit just after Christmas and she wasn’t planning to stay more than a day or two. She hoped there would be time to meet for a cup of tea.

  Thalia hoped so too, but wasn’t counting on it, since Jane’s husband would be with her and he, like Lord Cathcart, frowned on their continued association.

  “Do not worry about me.” She’d kept her voice deliberately cheerful. “I shall be perfectly fine on my own. And actually, it may be a good thing, since I’ve been sadly neglectful of the accounts over the past few weeks.” She slid her arms around his neck and pressed her breasts to his chest. “Someone has been keeping me very busy lately.”

  He’d grinned. “I suppose someone has.”

  Then he’d kissed her and carried her to bed, even though it was the middle of the day. By the time they’d come up for air, the discussion was forgotten.

  But now the day was nearly upon them and he would depart come morning. The thought made her chest ache, agony creeping upon her like a waiting shadow.

  She wouldn’t let herself wallow yet. She would have plenty of time for that over the next three weeks, since he would be away through the New Year and the Twelfth Night celebration.

  Maybe their separation really would be a good thing. She’d become far too dependent on him, living for the hours they spent together, both day and night.

  They’d fallen into a routine of sorts, riding each morning before they returned to the town house together to eat breakfast and decide on their plans for the day. He still returned to his house to bathe and change clothes. But lately, he’d been bathing here at her town house and having his valet deliver fresh clothing and other grooming essentials. At the moment, in fact, there was a set of his silver-backed hairbrushes, a razor and strop and shaving soap on her washstand. A spare suit of his clothes hung in her wardrobe and in a small dish on her dressing table there was a pair of gold cuff links.

  Small things but incredibly meaningful nevertheless.

  She wished he hadn’t needed to leave her this morning, that they could have spent every hour of the day together.

  And tonight, of course.

  But he’d had some last-minute business he’d been unable to put off. So he’d left her to sleep late with promises to return by midday.

  As for evenings per their routine, he had dinner with her nearly every night, then took her to bed. They nearly always made love, often more than once. The only exception was during her monthlies when she hadn’t felt up to it. But he’d stayed anyway, holding her through the night while both of them slept.

  Her bed was going to feel strange without him.

  Empty.

  Her house too, despite the servants and the warm, sweet, uncritical companionship of Hera.

  She sighed and put her hands over her eyes, wondering how she was going to bear his absence.

  But she could, knowing he would be back.

  And when he wouldn’t be?

  When the time came and they said their final good-byes?

  She let her arms drop to her sides against the sheets and stared again at the falling snow.

  She wouldn’t think about that day. Not now. Not until it came.

  Ignoring the ache in her chest, she sat up and reached for her robe.

  * * *

  “Lawrence and I are leaving tomorrow at first light,” Leo told Thalia that evening as they lingered over a dessert of warm apple and raisin tart with brandied cream.

  He’d suggested they eat dinner in her sitting room rather than the dining room as was their habit; he’d longed for the warmth and intimacy of her quarters on their last night together.

  A frown creased his brows. He ought to be excited about going home to Braebourne. Usually he couldn’t wait to walk through its broad halls and beautiful grounds, to spend time with his noisy, exuberant, warmhearted family, who were always ripe for fresh schemes and merrymaking.

  But this year he just couldn’t seem to muster his usual enthusiasm and the reason was sitting across from him right now.

&
nbsp; He gazed at Thalia, taking in her dark-haired beauty as if to memorize it. And perhaps he was. Ridiculous as it seemed, he didn’t want to be apart from her, not even for a mere three weeks.

  He wished he could take her with him.

  But men didn’t take their mistresses—or lovers, as he knew Thalia preferred to be called—home to meet their families. Even as open and tolerant as his mother and siblings were, he didn’t think they would approve of him bringing the woman with whom he was practically living these days into the midst of their Christmas cheer. As for his uncles and aunts and cousins, well, they would like it even less.

  He should have told them he was staying in London. He shouldn’t have let Thalia talk him into making the long trip to Gloucestershire and leaving her behind.

  “Are you sure you’ll be all right here by yourself?” he said suddenly. “I can always send word to Lawrence to go on tomorrow without me.”

  “Don’t be silly. We’ve been over this before. Go. Enjoy your Christmas at home. I shall be fine.”

  “Well, if you’re sure—”

  “I am,” she said, her voice firm. “Be with the people you love.”

  But he was beginning to suspect he was there already. That she was the one he loved above all others.

  He held his tongue and drank a swallow of hot coffee instead.

  Maybe she didn’t feel the same.

  Maybe she wanted him to go, to get some separation, since they were together so frequently. Perhaps she was growing tired of him?

  He set his cup down with a clink.

  “I won’t be able to stay tonight,” he said. “Mayhap I ought to go. Let you get some sleep.”

  Some look he couldn’t interpret flashed in her eyes before her lashes swept down. “If that is what you’d prefer.” Her voice was even, emotionless. “I am sure you could use a full night’s sleep as well.”

  “You’re right. I could.”

  Tossing down his napkin, he pushed back his chair and got to his feet. That’s when he remembered, feeling the sight bulge in his coat pocket.

  He dug inside and withdrew a slim, black velvet-covered box. “Here. I know you don’t want presents from me, but we did agree that Christmas was acceptable. This is for you.”