An Affair of Honor (Rebel Hearts 2)
William fussed and then moved off the bed, occasionally brushing against her tingling bum with his fingertips as he moved around, removing their clothes from the room.
She pushed her hand under her cheek after he’d removed her corset and chemise, lying in a contented daze. “Do you like to view your handiwork?”
“Yes.” His lips grazed the back of her neck in a soft kiss. “All of you too, but especially after touching you intimately.”
And yet he covered her with a nightgown, then the bedsheet, even tucking the counterpane tightly around her so she would be warm and cocooned.
If he hadn’t just spanked her silly, she’d think him the most doting and gentle man in the world. She was growing to appreciate the differences in him. He acted in keeping with their situation.
He doused the light, climbed into bed, and when he was lying down he took her hand in his. “Good night, wife.”
Matilda smiled in the dark. William wasn’t so complicated. He thrived on routine and orders. Pleasure. Pain and a firm set of rules to guide them on their journey was all they needed. “Sleep well, husband.”
He kissed the back of her hand like the most ardent of suitors. “Until tomorrow, my Matilda.”
“I hope you know my bottom will hurt like the very devil every time I sit down tomorrow.” She sighed. “That will make you content, I suppose.”
“Indeed it will,” he whispered with an amusement to his voice that she thought very sincere. “Until the next time you call me by that name again. The next time I might not be so lenient.”
Matilda groaned as her body quaked with anticipation for their next painful interlude. “It won’t be soon. I need time
to recover from that spanking.”
“I’ll wait.”
Eighteen
“I tell you he is out there.”
William carefully folded the newspaper he had been reading and moved to stand at the window beside Dawson. It was a gloomy day outside, but he could make out a solitary shape leaning against a wrought iron fence across the street. “The height is about right, but I cannot make out his features.”
“It’s him,” Dawson insisted. “What are you going to do?”
“Nothing.”
“She’ll find out you lied to her.”
“That was always in the cards.” He stared at his valet. “Dawson, you continue to worry about my wife unnecessarily.”
“Begging your pardon, my lord, but your lady is worth worrying about. I have always thought she was far too trusting. The other servants did not treat her very well while we were away.” Dawson’s expression grew grim. “Speaking of the servants, when will you do something about how the house is run?”
He moved away from the window. “Those responsibilities belong to my wife.”
Dawson’s expression grew troubled. “She’s not changed anything so far.”
William considered her inaction. They had not spoken much about their expectations, but their marriage was based on an arrangement—wed for a while, then separate. A separation that was growing less and less appealing every day.
He was still elated by last night’s tryst. Making love to Matilda had been worth the wait. He wanted nothing to upset the ease growing between them. Last night had felt like a first great step forward. The first of many, he hoped.
But had his desire to dominate Matilda convinced her she could not impose her will on anything else around them? He hadn’t meant for that to happen. It was not even what he wanted. He would have to discuss what he really wanted from marriage and hope she might understand the difference. “She will soon.”
“Good. The younger servants are suffering, being bullied into doing more chores than they should whenever my back is turned. The boot boy fell asleep at table this morning and was slapped severely for it afterward. I intervened, but I cannot always be belowstairs. I don’t have the authority if the butler turns a blind eye.”
William cursed. His discussion with Matilda had to be handled carefully.
Dawson bowed. “I’ll do my best to keep him out of the house, but I’m not the one answering the doors. You’ll need to alert Carter not to admit him.”
“Thank you.”