Redeeming the Earl

by Jenn Langston

  As her attention veered to the door again, she caught movement. The door slowly opened, revealing Charles in his dressing gown. Her heart sped up the sight of him. What did this break in his tradition mean?

  “Leave us,” Charles said to Anna without taking his gaze off of Rebecca.

  His eyes were dark as they centered on her. Determination set tightly in his jaw.

  “Yes, my lord.” Anna sprinted from the room, the door clicking behind her.

  Swallowing down her excitement, Rebecca calmly folded her hands in her lap. Last night she’d been a wanton and allowed her body’s desire to guide her, but she wouldn’t do that today. Now, as an experienced woman, she would control herself.

  “How may I help you, my lord?”

  His eyes moved past her as if he couldn’t bear to look at her. “If you’re feeling up to it, I’d like to try again.”

  “Try?” She leaned her head back to one side to survey him better.

  “Yes. Last night I believe we were over prepared. Besides, this is the only way to conceive my heir.”

  The truth of his statement hit her. He hadn’t come due to a desire to be with her, or to re-create the wondrous feelings of the night before. No, he wanted to get her with child as quickly as possible.

  “Of course, my lord. What will you have me do?”

  Clearly satisfied with her acquiescence, he smiled. “Lie back on the bed.”

  A wave of nerves hit her. The daylight streamed in from the window and lit the room. How could they do this in the morning? She’d never heard mention of the act being anything other than a nightly occurrence.

  Unable to deny him, she followed his instructions. He appeared close beside her and moved between her legs without preamble. She swallowed.

  “Don’t be afraid. What we are about to do is no different than any other aspect of our daily lives. I like to keep an open dialogue. If you have any questions or concerns, don’t hesitate to ask me at any point.”

  Irritated at the way he dismissed such a special act as something to be overlooked, she narrowed her eyes at him. He spread her legs wide, but her embarrassment had been burned off. She would set him straight.

  “I do have a question.” She paused, and he nodded encouragingly. “What will be served for breakfast?”

  Instead of being upset by her question, his eyes lit up and he smiled.

  “That’s brilliant. I’ll tell you as I prepare your body.”

  She ground her teeth together as his hand disappeared under her shift. His gaze never left her face, and he seemed unperturbed by her expression. Unfortunately, her anger only lasted until he made contact with her flesh.

  “Let’s see, we shall have tea.”

  She moaned as he slipped his finger inside her.

  “And sweet . . . milk. Yes, um, sweet . . .”

  Unable to hold back the incredible feelings coursing through her, she tuned out his words and clutched her fingers around the silken sheets. Exactly like last night, pressure built within her, forcing her to thrash her head back and forth on the pillows, desperate for more.

  Abruptly, he pulled his hand back from her. “Enough about breakfast.” His voice came out gruff and angry. He closed his eyes. “I will join with you now.”

  His obsession with remaining in control dulled her pleasure. How could she lose herself while he looked upon her with emotionless, calculated eyes? Determined to break down his wall, she pulled him against her.

  He filled her fully, bringing a sensation of completion so strong she couldn’t contain the noises escaping her lips. Forcing her eyes open, she looked at Charles’s face and cringed. It hadn’t changed. Did she make him feel nothing?

  Without another thought, she grabbed the ends of his dressing gown, pulled them apart, and snaked her hands inside to feel his bare skin. She wanted to experience his warm flesh against hers. Why would he deny them that?

  Hugging him to her tightly, she pressed her lips against his neck and trailed kisses up to his ear. All the while, he tried to continue his sedate pace, leaving that hated look on his face.

  “Tell me what’s for luncheon,” she breathed in his ear before drawing his lobe in her mouth.

  His rhythm faltered for a second, but he continued again without responding to her request. Perhaps he wasn’t as unaffected as he’d like her to believe.

  “Tell me,” she demanded again. Then without giving him an opportunity to answer, she shoved her hands in his hair, her hips against him, and took his mouth.

  Sweet victory flooded her as Charles relinquished control and gave in to his passion. His mouth devoured her as he thrust wildly into her. Anticipation built, and she pried her mouth from his to meet his rhythm.

  The world fell away as her cry echoed in the room and a sea of colors cascaded behind her eyes. The pleasure exceeded anything she’d experienced before. Last night had been wonderful, but marred by pain.

  As Charles continued his onslaught, she held tightly to his powerful arms, willing him to bask in the sensation she’d experienced. When his jerky motions signaled his release, she looked into his eyes. The amazement she saw within them made her chest quiver and brought a smile to her face.

  When he collapsed on top of her, breathing rapidly, she wrapped her arms around him to keep them there. Her body felt heavy, but she fought against her exhaustion, desperate to keep the enjoyment of being close to him.

  Despite her efforts, he pulled back and looked down her. Instead of the pleasure she expected to find, she saw confusion and perhaps anger on his face. He easily unclasped her arms and pulled away, wrapping his dressing gown around him tightly.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  He didn’t answer as he continued to his door.

  “Wait.” He stopped at her request, but didn’t turn around. “You forgot to tell me about luncheon.”

  He grumbled something sounding like “To hell with the bloody luncheon” before disappearing through the door.

  Rebecca wasn’t exactly sure what to think of his departure, but one thing she was sure of. Her husband was not allowed to bring his control into her bed ever again.

  Chapter 8

  Charles gazed at the paper in his hand, but all he could see was his wife’s face as she took pleasure with him. They had been married a fortnight, and each time he entered her bed, she not only welcomed him, but she pushed him. Then as his reward, he watched as her release overtook her as she contracted around him. The memory made his trousers tighten.

  For some reason being with her brought a whole new meaning than it had before. He no longer thought of the act for procreation purposes alone. His body craved her, and he thought of little else. His preoccupation bothered him, but not enough to hope for matters to return to the way they were before.

  “Are you even listening to me, Uncle?” Francis asked, puzzlement wrinkling his brow.

  Charles swallowed, and focused his attention back on the books. “I’m sorry. My mind must have been drifting.”

  Instead of accepting the apology and moving on, Francis leaned back in his chair and further scrutinized him. “I thought it too soon after your marriage to come. Do you realize all this can wait a few more weeks?”

  “Nonsense. There is no reason to postpone, which is why I requested you here.”

  “And what does Lady Dunmore think about your decision?”

  Dropping the paper to the desk, Charles folded his hands over it and leaned forward. “Why would you believe this would be a problem for her?”

  “Mother indicated that a new wife takes time to acclimate to her new position. Besides, if I had such a woman belonging to me, I don’t think I’d let her out of my bed for a clear month.”

  Hope filled Charles at his nephew’s statement. Could it be he wasn’t the o
nly one? What did women think of this? And how was it that Francis could concentrate so easily with these feelings swirling inside him?

  Overcome with the need to unburden himself, Charles contemplated opening up to his nephew about his problem. Although such a discussion wasn’t orthodox, the boy never had a problem speaking candidly in the past.

  “Tell me,” Charles started as discomfort crept up his neck. “Have you ever brought a woman to pleasure?”

  Francis’s wide eyes surveyed him before breaking out in laughter. Not understanding the jest, Charles kept his emotionless face trained on the boy. Perhaps Francis believed as Charles previously did. That women didn’t have the ability to enjoy the act.

  “Where did such a question come from? Of course I’ve taken many ladies to the heights of Heaven.”

  Stunned, Charles studied the scrawny boy. It was a wonder that this youth could have done something with numerous women when Charles had only managed it with Rebecca. Charles realized he must have been doing something wrong before.

  The thought brought back his uncomfortable behavior in Rebecca’s bed. No matter what he tried, he could never maintain his sanity with her. On the positive side, she never seemed to mind. The act had frightened Miranda more than once, which prompted him to ease her, and the others, with conversation. It never worked with Rebecca.

  At Charles’s silence, Francis shifted in his chair. “Why do you ask?”

  This was it. The opportunity he’d been waiting for, but could he burden his nephew with his problems? He certainly didn’t want the boy to think him mad.

  “I simply thought you might know . . . how to stop.”

  His nephew’s mouth fell open, but he quickly closed it as his eyes narrowed. “Why would you want to stop it? She has every right—”

  Charles held up his hand. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just that . . . Never mind.”

  Francis nodded as he eyed him sympathetically. “I see. Having trouble concentrating?”

  Refusing to respond, Charles kept his eyes on the boy.

  “You don’t have to tell me. It’s obvious. Honestly, I’m surprised you’ve never dealt with this before. In time, I’m sure you will learn to handle yourself.” Francis chuckled. “It may actually be beneficial for you to confine her to your bed for a solid week in order to get some of this out of your system.”

  Unable to help himself, Charles matched his nephew’s grin. The idea of having Rebecca naked in his bed, unable to leave for seven full days, appealed to him more than it should. He couldn’t get enough of her.

  To date he’d made sure to busy himself during the day so he wouldn’t accost her at all hours. It hadn’t been easy to ignore the sight of her soft skin or distance himself from the sound of her voice, but he’d prevailed.

  Maybe they did need time alone. Maybe he needed to allow his carnal pleasures to rule for once. Maybe Rebecca needed to see how fully he could lose control.

  He pushed the wonderful idea from him mind. Not only could determining when and how to do such a thing be difficult, but his wife might not agree to his plan. He couldn’t even be sure how to ask for such a thing.

  Reclaiming the forgotten paper, he forced himself to concentrate on his duties. Somehow he would train himself to live with the ache for Rebecca. He would do it for her. Even if that meant never lifting his eyes from the ground.

  This marriage was turning out to be the most difficult he’d experienced to date. This time, however, he feared it was he who wouldn’t survive.

  Rebecca scraped the fork across her plate as she finished her breakfast. Her husband didn’t even look up at the awful sound. With his head constantly staring at a piece of paper, sometimes she wanted to rip it from his hands and shred the distracting document.

  “I am going out today,” she informed him.

  He made a sound of acknowledgment, but no other indication he cared. She wondered if he even heard her.

  “Kenneth Rawson, Baron Berwick, is meeting me today. I do so enjoy spending time with him.”

  Charles made no response.

  “The two of us used to be quite close. I can’t even tell you how many hours we spent in each other’s company. I’m really looking forward to reestablishing our relationship.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Charles said, then stood. “Please excuse me. I have pressing matters I must attend to.”

  Her mouth dropped as he hurried out of the room. Perhaps next time she would pull her dress off and dance in front of him. Would he even notice?

  Irritated, she grabbed her pelisse and left the house. She’d intended to take the carriage to meet Kenneth, but walking would do her good in her current mood.

  As expected, the cool London air pulled at her and removed the encounter with her husband from her mind. She refused to allow him to ruin her reunion with her friends.

  “Rebecca, I’m sorry I’m late,” Kenneth said as he hurried to match her pace. “Samantha sends her best. She wanted to come, but her grandmother insisted she help finalize the plans for our trip.”

  “I understand.” Rebecca linked her hand through his as they moved down the street. “I recall you and I making this trek, just the two of us, many times.”

  Kenneth grinned. “Seems like a lifetime ago.”

  A lump formed in Rebecca’s throat, missing those carefree times. With Charles acting as he did, she would never experience such things with him. All of her excursions would have to center around the availability of her friends. She needed to brace herself for a lonely life.

  “It was. Now if you don’t hurry up, Grace will have finished her ice without us.”

  With a nod, he increased his pace, but kept glancing at her. His scrutiny bothered her. Could he tell what she was thinking? She pushed her thoughts aside. Although her life with Charles wasn’t exactly what she expected, she reminded herself that she was happier with him than she had been before they wed.

  As they reached Berkeley Square, Grace hurried over to them. Her once slim form had rounded out with child, and Rebecca wondered how long it would be before she found herself in a similar state. Charles certainly worked hard at trying to get her in that position.

  Before long, they were settled under the trees with their ices. The setting was familiar, as the three of them had done this many times.

  “Isn’t this nice?” Grace asked. “It has been far too long since we have enjoyed some quiet time together.”

  “Only now, we are all married,” Rebecca added.

  “Yes.” Kenneth set aside his ice and sighed. “Who would have thought us three misfits could ever have found our matches?”

  Grace tossed her handkerchief at him, hitting him in the chest. “Speak for yourself. Although we’re still surprised Samantha agreed to marry you, the two of us have made our husbands very lucky men.”

  With a laugh, he tossed the handkerchief back to Grace. “Too true. And I imagine your poor besotted husbands would agree.”

  The grin Grace offered in response was teasing, but Rebecca could see her love for Braiden shining in her eyes. She wondered what it felt like to love someone unconditionally and know he shared the feelings.

  Their conversation moved on to reminiscing and updating each other on current events until Kenneth had to excuse himself. Soon Grace would have to return home as well, but Rebecca was reluctant to let their time end.

  “Now that Kenneth is gone, we can talk.” Grace leaned in closer to keep their conversation more private. “Tell me, how is married life?”

  Forcing a smile, Rebecca met her friend’s gaze. “Wonderful. I enjoy being the mistress of a house.”

  “And your husband? Is he kind?”

  The look on Grace’s face indicated she had something else she wanted to ask. Although part of Rebecca wanted to know what it was, s
he also wasn’t sure it would be a good idea to find out.

  “Of course. We deal well together.”

  With lips squished to one side, Grace tapped her finger on her chin. “What are you not telling me? We’ve been friends long enough for you to give me the truth. Has he harmed you in any way?”

  “No,” Rebecca rushed to assure her friend. “Nothing like that. It’s just . . .”

  She trailed off not knowing how to finish. How could she explain how Charles only desired her presence in bed? How they rarely shared anything other than polite conversation during the day. How her greatest fear was that he would cease all attention toward her when she carried his heir.

  “Go on. Heaven knows we’ve never had any trouble talking about taboo subjects before.”

  Letting out a breath, Rebecca studied the fallen leaves in order to not have to face her friend. “How do you get your husband to want to spend time with you outside of the bedchamber?”

  Although she had kept her voice low, the wide-eyed stare from her friend indicated she had heard. Clearly Grace had never encountered such a problem.

  “Then inside he’s—”

  “Perfect,” Rebecca hastened to reply.

  To her surprise, Grace laughed. “I’m glad to hear that. Actually, your predicament is quite the opposite of what I experienced upon my marriage to Braiden. Regardless, have you considered the possibility that he’s unaware of your desire to spend time with him? He may feel he’s being accommodating by giving you your space.”

  Rebecca chewed on her bottom lip while she considered Grace’s question. Could that be the problem? He simply didn’t know she wanted to be with him?

  “Assuming you’re right, what do you propose I do about it?”