A faint, pleased smile curved his mouth as he returned to lighting candles.
The frankness of her desire surprised her. She’d always loved Edmund, but never before had her love felt so earthy. A hot weight settled in the base of her belly, craving for his skin against hers, the heated meeting of bodies.
He paused in his preparations, and their eyes conducted a simmering but silent conversation. Invitation and acceptance. She wanted what was to come more than she wanted to take her next breath. Pray God she wasn’t mistaken, but what she saw in his face told her that he felt the same.
“Take down your hair,” he said quietly.
With unsteady hands, she loosened her plait until her hair cloaked her shoulders. Edmund gave another of those heavy exhalations, as if he’d been holding his breath for hours.
“This is what I dreamed about.” He stepped forward and gripped the carved base of the bed. The candlelight shone on the cruel burns across the back of his hands. “Now take off your nightdress.”
Felicity swallowed to moisten a dry mouth, even as she moved to obey. With a bit of maneuvering, she tugged the thick flannel nightdress over her head.
She was blushing. Of course she was. But her eyes were steady as they met his. She rested against the piled pillows and let her hands fall open at her sides.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. “You beggar my fantasies.”
“I’m glad.”
“You’ll think me a satyr, but so often in the hell of the Peninsula, I pictured you just like this. Army life provides no sweetness, just incessant brute masculinity. But in the few quiet moments, I’d close my eyes and think of the woman waiting for me at home.”
“I don’t think you’re a satyr at all.” Her heart cramped with love, and stabbing compassion for all he’d sacrificed in the name of duty. “I wish I’d known you thought of me. It would have been a comfort.”
“Of course I thought of you. Constantly.” His eyes sharpened. “Did you think of me?”
She didn’t try to hide her surprise and pleasure at his confession. “All the time.”
“And did you wait?”
She took a second to understand what he asked; it was so far from the reality of her solitary life these last years. “I’ve had no man but you in my bed, Edmund.” She paused before admitting the dangerous, awkward truth. “I’ve wanted no man but you in my bed.”
Triumph turned his gray eyes silver. “I hoped. I guessed.”
He was glad. That must mean something.
Felicity linked her hands over her bare stomach in an attempt to calm her nerves. She was painfully conscious of her nakedness. How she wished he’d touch her, so she didn’t feel quite so on display. But this might be her only chance to ask the question that had troubled her since he left.
Her voice emerged as a husky murmur. “I know I really have no right to ask this. The world views a man’s needs as so much more urgent than a woman’s, after all. And it’s so many years. And you made no promises of fidelity before you went away…”
Edmund’s expression was unreadable. “Yes, I did. When we stood before the altar, I vowed to be faithful.”
She frowned, trying to make sense of what he said. She couldn’t have heard him right. If she had, surely it must be too good to be true. “You mean—”
His gaze remained unwavering. “I mean I’ve had no woman in my bed since I left your side.”
She struggled to contain her relief and happiness. Her husband wasn’t a liar. She knew that. But still his claim pushed the limits of belief. “That must have been difficult.”
A sardonic grunt of laughter escaped. “Not that difficult. I married you because you’re the only woman I want. I don’t need a substitute.”
Wide-eyed, she stared at him. However unlikely his story, she found she believed him. Even the part about him wanting her. Every word he spoke radiated sincerity.
Joy surged, strong enough to wash away old doubts. “I had no idea.”
One hand made a sweeping gesture. “Why the devil else did you imagine I proposed?”
She shook her head. “I thought you needed a wife.”
A faint snort. “So anyone would do, even you?”