“Damnation! Be quiet!”

“Yes, my lord,” she said and laughed some more. Finally, Alexandra wiped her eyes on the edge of the counterpane, and looked at her husband.

Douglas, pulled from a deep sleep, doused with hot chocolate, and then shrieked at, shoved away the covers and rose from the bed. He was quite naked and Alexandra became quite still at the sight of him.

He didn’t look at all like he had the night before.

“Good Lord, woman, stop staring at me!” It was then that Douglas looked down at himself. He drew in his breath. There was blood on his member.

He looked at the shrouded woman with long tousled dark red hair who was standing there like a half-wit staring at him, the woman he’d taken the previous night, that former virgin woman who was also his wife, and said, his voice deep and gruff, “Did I hurt you?”

She stared at him, unconsciously clutching the counterpane more closely. “Yes.”

“Do you still hurt?”

She was terribly embarrassed, standing here with him perfectly naked, asking her questions that made the roots of her hair turn even redder. “A little bit. No, not really. Some, it’s strange.”

He walked past her into his own bedchamber, grabbed up his dressing gown and shrugged into it. He looked back at her, and said, “Come here.”

Alexandra, her head cocked to the side in question, walked slowly to him. Without warning, he lifted her and laid her onto her back on the bed. He began unrolling the counterpane.

“Stop! Oh dear, what are you doing? Douglas!” She was swatting at him, but it did no good. Soon she was lying naked and he was looking down at her. “Part your legs.”

She twisted away from him, but he grabbed her ankles and flipped her back. “Dammit, hold still, woman!”

“No, this is horrid! Stop it, Douglas! I might not be a virgin now, but this is still very embarrassing.”

He came down on top of her. “Be quiet. I saw blood on my member, your blood, your virgin’s blood, and I need to see if you’re all right. Did you bleed much? I forgot to warn you. Were you frightened? Blessed hell, I’m sorry.”

She stared up at him. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I feel sticky but I didn’t look at myself. It was dark and you had left me.”

“It’s not dark now. Hold still, Alexandra.” He rolled off her and shoved her thighs apart. “Damn,” he said, “it’s you who need the water Dora is bringing. You’re a mess.”

She was so humiliated, so utterly mortified, that she just lay there, her eyes tightly closed. She felt his big warm hands on her thighs, touching her, knew he was looking at her and it was a bright morning, sun flooding through the windows. She wanted, quite simply, to open her eyes and discover that she was ten years old again, waiting for her nanny to come fetch her for breakfast, and none of this was happening.

She felt the mattress shift and knew he was standing beside the bed now, staring down at her. “Don’t move. I’ll bring the water and bathe you.”

She heard the master bedchamber door open, and she did move, faster than she’d thought possible. She buried herself in the sheets.

“My lord?”

It was Finkle, Douglas’s valet.

“Go away!”

“My lady? Is that you, all muffled? Oh dear. Excuse me, oh dear.”

“Finkle, is that you?”

“Oh my lord, forgive me, but I thought it was you but it wasn’t, it was her—”

“No matter. I do understand, believe me. Go away and bring bathwater. Next time, knock. Her Ladyship still isn’t certain which bed is hers. She has problems with direction, you know, and I have assured her that I quite understand.”

When the door closed, Douglas looked down at the shrouded figure on his bed. It was his turn to laugh, which he did. She burrowed more deeply. Finally, he said, amusement filling his voice, “You can come out now. Finkle is quite gone. Can you imagine how I felt?”

Tags: Catherine Coulter Sherbrooke Brides Historical
Source: readsnovelonline.net