Wedded to the Wicked Lord: Historical Regency Romance (Wicked Warwick Wives Book 2)

by Ella Edon

  She didn’t respond. Jerome took that as a yes. If she didn’t care to hear about his day, he was sure she would have said so.

  He launched into an unnecessarily detailed rendition of all that he’d done that day, taking care to leave out the bit where he had visited his father. Louisa was quiet throughout it all, but Jerome didn’t mind. He wanted to distract her from the memory of her nightmare, wanted her to fall asleep to the sound of his voice. Even when he ran out of things to say, he droned on and on.

  Suddenly, he felt something touch his hand. Jerome froze, cutting his sentence short. In the silence, he heard her slow breathing, could tell that she had fallen asleep. Shifting slightly, Jerome looked down to see that Louisa had burrowed her hand underneath the pillows. Her pinky finger was looped around his.

  He couldn’t breathe for a few moments. Then he slowly let out the breath he had been holding, trying to calm his pounding heart. It didn’t make sense for him to react like this. It was only a small finger curled around his, even if it was a gesture of affection from the lady who hated to be touched. Jerome’s body was suddenly flashing with heat, his hand trembling with the urge to take her hand completely in his. Since she was sleeping, he was sure she wouldn’t notice, but it felt like a betrayal of her trust if he were to do something like that.

  So he simply laid there, listening to her soft breathing. He let it wash over him, hoping it would settle his heartbeat, but it only seemed to spur him on. All Jerome could think was that she was terrified. That something terrible had brought on those horrifying nightmares, had driven her to accept his company, and had led her to even touching his finger. Jerome had always sensed that Louisa was not so tenacious that she could handle everything herself, but now he could see how vulnerable she could be.

  Perhaps it was not the best time to also notice that she wore nothing but her nightdress.

  Unable to resist the urge any longer, Jerome leaned up unto his elbows with all the care he could muster, not wanting her to pull her finger away. He peeked over the barricade of pillows and what he saw had his breath catching in his throat.

  Moonlight showered her half of the bed, bathing her in an ethereal glow. Her head was tilted slightly towards the window, her lips parted slightly as she breathed. Her hair, just as he had imagined earlier, was fanned out around her head like a golden halo and her hand lay on her stomach—right underneath the swell of breasts.

  Jerome had always noticed that she was well-endowed, but only now did he realize the extent of it.

  He felt the blood rush from his head. Before things got too intense, Jerome forced himself to look away, lying back down and keeping his eyes on the ceiling. He willed himself to think of other things, trying to consider what might happen in the future. If he continued to think of her, he might dream about her too. And if he did, he would certainly wake up with every ounce of his blood centered in one area. If Louisa were to catch sight of that, things would only get worse, and he wanted her to be comfortable.

  But…he was a man through and through. Ignoring the beautiful woman with that lovely body beside him was near impossible. And no matter how much he tried, Jerome could not keep the image of her rising chest from his mind. He fell asleep to that thought and, just as he had expected, the dreams came in full force.

  Chapter Sixteen

  When Louisa opened her eyes, she was confused. Her mind was utterly blank, and as she stared up at the ceiling above her, it was oddly unrecognizable. For a second, she simply laid there, trying to remember where she was and why she was here. In that second, there was no panic or fright. She felt at ease, as if she had woken up in her own bed.

  The memories of last night came rushing back just as the ache in her throat became noticeable. Her limbs felt like logs against the bed and she lifted a heavy hand to her neck, swallowing past her hoarse throat. Louisa remembered screaming last night. She remembered jolting awake with sweat coating her skin and her limbs tangled within the sheet. She couldn’t forget the pair of hazel eyes—ones that had been dark with concern—that had appeared like an angel’s above her.

  Slowly, she let her hand to fall to her chest, feeling the steady increase in the pounding underneath her fingertips. Why is my heart beating like this?

  Even as the question whispered through her mind, Louisa thought of the barricade of pillows Jerome had created, how adamant he had been about staying with her that night. She should have chased him out, should have screamed her head off if she had to. She could clearly remember considering it, but the option hadn’t felt right to her. She’d wanted him to say. She’d felt so comforted by his presence that she’d used it to ignore how her body had been reacting to the sight of him.

  “My Lady!”

  Hannah’s voice brought her out of her reverie. Louisa blinked rapidly as she sat up, trying to shove all thoughts of Jerome to the back of her mind. Hannah was by her side in a second, her brown eyes wide with worry. She laid her tiny hand on Louisa’s shoulder without hesitation, searching her face. “Are you all right?” Hannah asked.

  “Yes,” Louisa told her. Her voice was nothing but a dry rasp, belying her words. Hannah’s frown deepened.

  “You sound terribly hoarse, my Lady. I think your screaming last night has taken a toll on you. Please, remain in bed while I fetch you some tea.”

  “You heard my screaming?” Louisa asked in surprise.

  Hannah straightened with a nod. She clasped her hands before her as she said, “It tore through the manor, my Lady, and it woke me from my slumber. The moment I realized it was you, I hurried over, but Mr. Cooper told me that I should return to my room.”

  “Ah.” Louisa sagged. No matter how much she tried, it was impossible to get Jerome out of her head. “I see.”

  “Will you wait, my Lady,” Hannah probed, peering closely at Louisa, “while I fetch the tea?”

  “Yes, yes, I will wait.” Louis was too distracted by her thoughts about Jerome to focus much on what Hannah was saying. She appreciated the maid’s concern for her, but all Louisa could think about was Jerome standing by her bed wearing nothing but his underclothing. The panic in his eyes and the determination in his voice when he’d stated that he would remain in her bedchamber. Her cheeks flushed with heat.

  “Hannah, a moment,” Louisa called, right before Hannah had the chance to slip out the door. The tiny maid turned in anticipation. Louisa pulled her shoulders back, feeling at odds with her next question. “Mr. Cooper…do you know where he is right now?”

  “I…” Hannah blinked, and then lifted her eyes upwards in thought. “I believe he is in his study, my Lady.”

  “Thank you.” Louisa quickly looked away, oddly embarrassed by her question. “Please do not be long.”

  “Yes, my Lady!”

  Hannah left the room in a hurry and Louisa was alone with her thoughts again. The moment they drifted in, recalling Jerome’s soothing voice as he yammered on about his day, Louisa sprang out of bed. She began to pace back and forth, patting her cheeks as if that would rid her mind of those traitorous thoughts.

  She shouldn’t be thinking about him like that. He was a man! Men wanted nothing more than to exploit the weaker sex and to lord over their bodies. Louisa had promised herself from a young age that she would not allow herself to become a victim to such things. Perhaps Jerome was not so bad a man as she’d thought. Perhaps she could truly treat him as she would a friend. After all, she’d sensed no ill intentions from him last night, and had he dared to do something to her while she slept, she would have certainly known.

  But I should not be thinking about him like this!

  An image came to mind of the broad cut of his shoulders, the messy flop of his hair at the end of the day, the gentle baritone and the wide chest she had the intense urge to reach out and touch—

  Those kinds of thoughts should not be happening.

  Louisa sank before her vanity mirror, staring at herself. Her blond hair was spilling over her shoulders, messy from the way she kept an
xiously running her fingers through it. She felt quite unlike herself and…well, Louisa didn’t know what to think about it.

  Thankfully, Hannah returned just then, bearing the tray with her tea. Louisa accepted it eagerly and, desperate for a distraction, asked Hannah a myriad of random questions that popped into her head. Hannah seemed a little flustered by the onslaught of inquiries Louisa had for her, but she kept up well. Their conversation persisted until Louis was done with her tea and was ready to leave her bedchamber.

  The moment she exited the room, her frazzled nerves returned. She clenched her hands tightly by her side, gritting her teeth in annoyance at herself. No matter how much she tried to distract herself, she couldn’t get Jerome out of her head. Nor could she rid herself of the odd feeling that she was forgetting something crucial about last night. Had she said something odd to him? Did she tell him something she should not have?

  She’d been so taken with her fear, yet so groggy with exhaustion, that she could easily excuse letting him stay. But if she had told him something about her past…

  Louisa realized that she had been unknowingly making her way to his study just as she was upon it. She came to a stop before the door. Knowing that Jerome was on the other side made her chest grow tight. And hating that reaction, she wanted so badly to turn away.

  Instead, she lifted her hand and knocked.

  “Enter,” came his voice.

  Louisa raised her chin. She slid back into the woman she knew herself to be—at least on the outside. On the inside, she was a fumbling mess who couldn’t figure out her thoughts or the odd heat that washed over her when she stepped into the study.

  Jerome’s head was still bent over his papers, a fountain pen in his hand. To her surprise, he wore a pair of spectacles, his brow furrowed as he scribbled furiously. “What is it?” he asked, not bothering to look up.

  Louisa ventured closer. To her surprise, no snide comment came to her mind. No droll statement. Her mind was utterly blank.

  Because she’d taken so long to respond, Jerome glanced up. He had to do a double take, his brows lifting when he noticed that it was her. Surprise shadowed his eyes and his pen went slack in his hand. “Louisa…what brings you here?”

  Louisa was struggling to hold on to the confident woman she knew she was. Standing before him, all she could think of was how handsome he’d been last night. She couldn’t stop thinking about the fact he’d slept in her bed. She willed herself not to blush, horrified at the reaction. “Good morning,” she greeted.

  He blinked. Her civil tone was taking him by surprise as well. “Good morning. I trust you slept well last night?”

  Wouldn’t you know? “I did,” she said with a nod, swallowing. Awkwardly, she pointed at the papers littering his desk. “Have you been working since morning?”

  Jerome looked distractedly at his papers before nodding. “Yes, I have been. I tend to wake at dawn and so I thought to finish off a bit of paperwork.”

  “Have you eaten yet?”

  Jerome stared blankly at her for a moment. “Pardon?”

  “Have you eaten as of yet?” Louisa repeated, stronger this time despite the tendrils of anxiety that coursed through her.

  “No.” Jerome shook his head slowly. He didn’t take his eyes off her once, as if sensing she would pounce at any moment. “I trust that you have not as well?”

  “I haven’t,” she stated. “Perhaps we can break our fast together. It wouldn’t do well for you to work yourself so tirelessly without having any food to sustain you.”

  “How caring of you to say,” he murmured.

  “I am as known for my altruism as I am my beauty,” she responded, earning a smile from him. It brought on one of her own, and some of her nervousness dissipated. “Now, shall we? Or will we wait for the food to become cold?”

  Jerome rose at that, gesturing for her to lead the way. Louisa was grateful to. She didn’t need him seeing how flustered he was making her.

  But it didn’t work well. Louisa was incredibly aware of the fact that Jerome was watching her the entire time they made their way to the drawing room—nearly as aware as she was of the distance he maintained between them. It was for that reason she didn’t feel threatened or uncomfortable. She got the distinct impression that he was doing so because he thought it was how she would prefer it, and that only made her heart clench.

  They said nothing to each other the entire walk to the drawing room, but Louisa did not feel at ease. In the corner of her eye, she saw when Jerome looked away from her as she turned. Once again, he was acting out of consideration for her.

  “Do you remember what happened last night?” he asked suddenly, once they were seated. Louisa’s eyes snapped to his in surprise, watching as he calmly picked up a toast and spooned a bit of jam onto it.

  “I assume you are speaking about my nightmare?” Louisa asked, willing herself to be normal. There was no reason to be harsh with him.

  “Yes,” he said simply. “It was quite alarming, I must say. My heart went out to you when I heard you screaming.”

  He continued to eat, completely unaware of how his words were affecting her. Louisa tried to joke it off. “I frightened you? My, Jerome, I did not expect you to be cowardly.”

  Her gripe bounced right off him as he shrugged. “How can you blame me? When I saw you writhing on the bed, as if you were in pain, I did not know what to do with myself.”

  Louisa kept her eyes firmly on her bowl of porridge. “There is no need to relive last night. Though…I must thank you.”

  “Oh? That is a surprise.”

  “How so?” She lifted her gaze back to his and regretted it instantly. There was a slight smile on his face, his eyes glittering with intrigue. Heat spread throughout her chest.

  “I thought you would be more upset than grateful, considering I refused to leave your side last night, as you initially insisted I should,” he stated.

  To her horror, she blushed. Louisa prayed he wouldn’t notice. “I told you it was fine, did I not?”

  “You were frantic and terrified. I reckon you would have agreed to anything in that moment.”

  “Perhaps, but nonetheless, you are wrong. I am grateful to you—for your kindness last night.”

  “You are most welcome, Louisa.” He said it with a smile. Louisa felt herself relax. And when she realized it, she tensed.

  “Will you not ask?” she questioned, lifting her spoon to her lips. She didn’t take his eyes off him, watching as he lifted one glorious brow.

  “Ask about what?”

  “About my dream,” she stated. “I am certain you are curious.”

  “Without a doubt,” Jerome said with little hesitation. “But I know better than to ask questions that I will not receive the answer to. You do not trust me yet, I am aware. And though you are warming up to me, I know you will not tell me what brought on last night’s nightmare.”

  Louisa was focused more on the former part of his last sentence. “I am warming up to you, you say?”

  “Of course.” The confidence with which he spoke both confused and impressed her. She supposed she shouldn’t expect anything less from the bastard son of a duke who had managed to establish such a name for himself. Such a feat would require natural confidence. Jerome lifted his brows at her. “Do you not remember?”

  “Remember what?”

  He tilted his head to the side, hiding a smile as he finished off his toast. Louisa’s heart sank. What did I do?

  Slowly, Jerome lifted his hand and then curled his fingers into his palm until his pinky remained upright. He waggled it and the memory came rushing to Louisa. She recalled the exhaustion that had come over her, spurred on by his constant voice droning on about nonsense. She remembered feeling more at ease lying there than she had in days. The peace that had come over her was nothing like the haziness she felt when indulging in her laudanum. It was a welcomed calmness and, without thinking, she’d reached out to hold him.

  Louisa schooled her expression
as best as she could even as her mind screamed. She couldn’t believe that she had done that. It was so unlike her, so different from everything she’d known. There had been no anxiety last night, no crushing need to relieve herself of that terrible feeling whenever she was touched by a man. How?

  “It was quite sweet,” Jerome continued into Louisa’s silence. “It made me see how truly tired you were. How long have you been having those nightmares, Louisa?”

  Louisa pursed her lips. The answer was coming out before she could stop it. “For the past few days.”

  Jerome looked distressed by that. Louisa couldn’t take her eyes off him, as if struck by the agitation she could sense from him.

  “I don’t like the sound of that,” he muttered. “I do not think I can sleep well knowing that you are tossing and turning in your bed.”