Vicar's Daughter to Viscount's Lady (Transformation of the Shelley Sisters 2)

o good. I am clumsy, you see. Inept. Probably frigid.’

‘What?’

‘I am very sorry. I am trying, but it is difficult, knowing that whatever I do you will be disappointed. I expect you had a mistress who was very skilled and beautiful—that’s why I wouldn’t mind if you went back to her.’ He saw her throat move convulsively as she swallowed. ‘Well, no, I would mind, but I know it is my fault so I would never reproach you.’

‘Who told you that about yourself? Rafe, of course.’ The anger became a red haze, then he saw the look in her eyes and made himself be calm.

Bella saw the fury in Elliott’s eyes subside and drew in a shuddering breath. She must not cry, that would only make him angry again. She had told him, confessed to her failure as a wife and now he had the worst confirmed. No, not quite that—soon she would be as big as a whale, even clumsier. He had been kind about her looks, but then he was a kind man and had been trying to put her at her ease.

‘Arabella,’ Elliott said, ‘Rafe was selfish, grasping and insensitive. He set out to seduce you with every intention of abandoning you, right from the first. He did not care about you, not one iota. When he had what he wanted, the last thing he needed was a woman who thought herself in love, who expected things from him, who clung. And the easiest way to prevent that was to be as cruel as possible, to hurt your heart and your mind as he had already hurt your body by his heedlessness.’

‘He was lying?’ But Rafe had lost his temper with her—could that have been feigned?

‘Yes. That is what Rafe did. I do not. I will not lie to you, Arabella. You are not a classical beauty, but I think you lovely, graceful and charming. I desire you. When I tell you that you must believe me or call me a liar.’

‘Oh.’ Lovely? ‘I believe you, Elliott.’ The truth was in his eyes. ‘But—’

‘You were a virgin. Of course you had no idea what to do, how it would be—how it should have been. It was up to him to be gentle, to be thoughtful, to show you with patience what your body needed and how you could please him too.’

‘I should not have known instinctively, then?’

‘No, of course not. Your body knows some things, but your mind does not. Can you swim?’

‘Yes. Mama taught us in the millpond, long ago.’ When Papa had been away one long hot summer. Mama and Meg and little Lina…

‘Did it take a little while to learn?’

‘Of course.’

‘And what would have happened if she had grabbed you and thrown you into deep water?’

‘I would have panicked, flailed around and drowned, I suppose. Elliott, do you mean that making love is the same?’

‘Yes.’ He leaned back against the bedpost, careful not to touch her, she realised. ‘Just the same.’

The relief was incredible. It had not been her at all. The concept that she might be able to please her husband, that making love was something that might give her pleasure, was breathtaking. ‘So, kissing is like paddling close to the shore?’

‘It can be. It can be like diving into deep water, too. Arabella, we can take all the time you need to learn. All I ask is that you are honest with me and tell me how you feel.’

‘Could we start now?’ she asked, greatly daring. ‘Can I try to make love to you?’

‘Yes.’ It sounded as though he was having trouble breathing.

Before she could think about it too much Bella wriggled out of her nest of blankets and down to the end of the bed. ‘Then you must take off your dressing gown.’

‘You do it.’ That was daunting. Bella tugged at the knot, then pushed the robe back over his broad shoulders. ‘Would you like me to lie down?’ Elliott enquired, the corner of his mouth twitching.

‘Yes, please.’ He was teasing her a little, but he was not laughing at her. Confronted by six foot and several inches of large naked man, Bella wondered where she was supposed to start. The top seemed safest and she knew that kissing was something she could do.

She lay down along Elliott’s right side, put a tentative hand on his shoulder and leaned across to kiss him on the mouth. It was disconcerting to be on top and to feel the heat of his body below hers, the spring of hair tickling her breasts, but it also felt safe not to be trapped under a man’s weight. Elliott had kissed her neck, her shoulder; perhaps he would like it if she did the same to him.

Bella let her mouth roam and discovered that he tasted good, smelt better and that there was a pleasure to be had in the feel of satin skin over hard muscle. Elliott appeared to like what she was doing too, until her hand carelessly brushed his nipple. Instantly it hardened under the palm. ‘Oh. I’m sorry—’

‘Don’t be,’ he said, touching her in the same way. ‘You see? You could use your mouth,’ he suggested.

Breathless, she slid lower, licking and kissing. How odd that to pleasure him—and the way his body tensed told her that she was doing that—gave her pleasure too. Her breasts felt swollen and acutely sensitive as they moved against Elliott’s body and she felt a growing ache of pleasurable need low in her belly.

Now she was lower down his body her left hand, the one that was not pressed against his heart, was lower too. It brushed coarse hair, then hot hard flesh and Bella froze. Elliott simply took her hand in his and curled it around his erection. ‘Hold tight,’ he said, the lightness in his tone suddenly changing as she took him at his word. ‘Ah, yes. Arabella…’