Married to a Stranger (Danger and Desire 3)

Blushing, she described the symptoms.

‘So how do you treat it?’

She shrugged. ‘Just put up with it. It will be better tomorrow.’

‘Nonsense.’ He hated the thought that she would uncomplainingly drag herself through the day if there was something to be done. ‘Why should you put up with that? It sounds most unpleasant.’ He began to shepherd her towards his bedchamber.

‘Callum? You will be late to the office.’

‘I can work from home. Wilkins!’

‘Sir?’ The valet emerged from the bedchamber, a hat in one hand, the brush in the other.

‘Please send a message to Leadenhall Street to say I am detained at home for the day. Then have Cook send up a hot brick from the kitchen when I ring. And we are not to be disturbed—Mrs Chatterton needs to rest.’

‘Callum! Whatever will he think?’ They were in the room now and the door was shut. He found he was anxious, as if she was ill or injured. He reminded himself that this was normal, that she was used to it. But it was strange having someone so intimately close to him to care about, to worry over. He had worried about Dan, but at least his twin had been a large, strong male.

His wife looked almost fragile today. He had tried to keep her at a distance, emotionally, it felt safer that way. But he couldn’t do it if she was hurting. He’d had no idea that marriage would be so … consuming.

‘I do not pay my valet to think,’ he said briskly. ‘Now then, let us get you comfortable.’ He began to unlace her gown, then her corset, then peeled her chemise and petticoat down to her waist as she stood there, passive under his hands. He had never undressed her, he realised. He had wanted to, often. Wanted to catch her in his arms and kiss her, fondle her, undress her slowly and see if he could break through the polite yielding with which she tolerated his lovemaking. But you did not behave like that with a wife, as though she must be ready for y

ou whenever you demanded it.

But if she wanted it too … Callum got a grip on his wandering thoughts and found Sophia’s skin cool under his hands that lay on her shoulders. ‘Off with your shoes and lie down on the bed. On your side with your back to me will be best, I imagine.’

He had stripped off his coat and was rolling up his shirtsleeves by the time she curled herself up on the bed. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked, her voice wary.

‘In India one learns to doctor almost everything from snake bite to fever. I refuse to believe that this cannot be alleviated.’ He sorted through bottles until he found the one he wanted. There was a clink of glass as he pulled out the stopper and the room filled with a warm, spicy smell that transported him straight back to the spice market in Calcutta.

Callum sat on the edge of the bed, his hip against the curve of her buttocks and poured oil into his right palm, letting it take the warmth from his skin. ‘Just relax. Is this the spot?’ He pressed his hand, warm and slippery with oil, gently into the small of her back, and let the other stroke lightly over the slight swell of her belly above the edge of her turned-down petticoats.

She sighed. ‘Oh, yes. Oh, Callum, that is bliss.’ He kept his hands gentle, kneading and stroking with just enough pressure to relax the knotted muscles. Sophia breathed deeply and closed her eyes. He knew how relaxing the smell was, he used this oil when he had a headache. He worked quietly, letting the scent fill her senses.

‘You are purring,’ he said, after perhaps five minutes.

‘You could make a tiger purr,’ she murmured, and he felt Sophia relax as she drifted into sleep.

When she woke Sophia found herself curled up on Callum’s bed, a cover over her and something bulky and warm snuggled into the small of her back. Cautious investigation revealed a hot brick, well wrapped in towels. She turned over and found that her aches and pains had almost gone and that the bedchamber door was open, as was the study door opposite.

Callum was sitting at his desk, his head bent over some papers, one hand raking through his hair. He seemed completely engrossed, but as she watched him he looked up, straight into her eyes, as though she had called his name. He got up and crossed to the bedchamber, tugging the bell pull as he came in. ‘Better?’

‘Much better, thank you.’ She pulled the covers around her like a shawl, sat up and swung her legs off the bed. ‘You have magic in your hands.’

He shrugged, but he seemed pleased with the compliment, she thought. ‘I have rung for Chivers. If you want to get up, I wondered if you would keep me company in the study.’

‘Will I not distract you?’ The idea was intriguing.

‘No. You could read. Or draw if you like. Use my things.’

‘I would like that, thank you. I saw the slope in your study.’ She stumbled to a halt. He would know she had been in there looking around. Then she recovered herself. It was her house and she was in charge of it. Of course she would check all the rooms.

‘I used to have one in India and I brought that one up from the Hall without thinking. My sketchbooks went down with the ship.’ He turned away abruptly. ‘Somehow I don’t feel much like taking it up again.’

‘Did you draw landscapes?’

‘Some. And people.’ He became very still, his attention apparently fixed on the bed post. ‘I drew Dan. I wish now I had sent some home before we sailed, but I never did and now—’ He shrugged. ‘I do not expect I will start again.’

‘You painted in watercolours, did you not?’ Sophia asked. He looked puzzled. ‘You told me when we were driving to London. Would you teach me, Callum? I have never been able to master it.’