Chapter 11
Emily had been rather quiet at dinner. He had talked about his childhood a little and asked her about hers in Cumbria, but she had not been terribly forthcoming. She did mention her brother a lot as if she felt his childhood was more important than her own. That saddened him a little.
He had asked what she liked to read and for a moment her face had lit up as she’d admitted that she loved reading. When he’d asked what books she enjoyed, she had looked down and said quietly, “Oh, nothing of much interest, my lord.”
His heart had wrenched for her. One minute the chit was confident and gregarious, the next, she was a little mouse, denying herself and being critical almost of her own existence. He remembered her description of herself as clumsy. He had not noticed her being clumsy particularly, but he had not spent much time in her company.
They finished their meal and were climbing the small narrow staircase, Emily just two steps ahead of him when she missed her footing and fell onto her hands.”
“Ooft! Oh, devil take it.” He doubted he had ever heard a young lady use such a curse, but he recovered. Moved up beside her and helped her. She was already halfway back to her feet.
“My lady, are you well?”
“I am fine. I apologise for my foul language, my lord. I told you I was clumsy. I did not tell you I swore like the coal man.”
He chuckled. Then he realised her pert little bottom was pressed against his groin. His thumb was pressed just under her breast. How did he manage to get into such a mess? Or was it a mess? It felt dashed lovely to him. Experimentally he brushed his thumb across the underside of her breast. His cock started to harden.
“My lord.” There was little censure in her words. There was definitely a lot of pleasure. He brushed his lips softly against her neck then let her go. She appeared to be gripping the bannister tighter than before.
“Go, before I forget myself and where we are.”
Emily climbed the stairs and hurried to their rooms. He had the keys, he unlocked her door and followed her inside. Planning to go to his room via the connecting door. But he had to make sure she was well.
“Let me check your hands.”
“My hands are fine.”
“Please, Emily.”
She sighed and held out her palms. They were a little red but they seemed unharmed. He lifted first one to his lips and kissed it, then the other. Her little surprised gasps sent need straight to his semi-hard length. If he was not careful, he would end up bedding her tonight. That was not the plan. She deserved better.
He dropped her hands and took a step away.
“I shall go and collect the cards from my valise, you ring for tea.”
“Yes, my lord.”
He brought back the box of cards and a book. He laid the book on a small table and put another small table between them. When the tea tray arrived, Emily poured them both a cup, added milk and sugar to both. It felt so domestic, Gideon could not help thinking that he would enjoy evenings together with his wife. Of course, the myriad of entertainments available during the Season may be exciting, but tea, and conversation with his wife, before taking her up to bed and sinking himself into her sweet body was the sort of life a man actually dreamed of.
“My lord?”
“Hmm? I mean, pardon?”
“Another card please.” He passed her a five of clubs.” Her smile of satisfaction proved her to be a terrible card player. He had eighteen. The chances of him winning this hand were pretty slim. She either had twenty, or more likely, considering her smile, twenty-one.
He laid his hand down to show her his. She triumphantly laid her hand down. He looked at the cards.
“That’s twenty-two.”
She looked at the cards, he brow furrowed.
“No, it’s n…. Oh!”
He pursed his lips in an effort not to laugh. She shook her head.
“It happens all the time in the gaming halls.”
“No doubt by men who are utterly foxed. What is my excuse?”
“You are likely tired. It has been a long day.”
“I slept a long time in the carriage.”
“Sleeping in a carriage is not as restful as sleeping in a bed. Come, stop chastising yourself for a simple mistake.”
“I am such a ninny.”
“Stop calling yourself that.”
“I feel like an imbecile.”
“You are not an imbecile because you miscounted some card, Emily.”
She stood up and walked to the window. The night was beginning to fall, she wrapped her shawl tightly around herself.
He walked to stand behind her.
“Why did I never notice you at balls or entertainments in town?”
“Because I am not a great beauty, my lord.”
“You are beautiful, but it is not how you look that stopped me noticing you. I notice most young ladies in a ballroom. Usually, of course, except those who do not wish to be noticed.”
“I do not know what you mean, my lord.”
“You sat among the wallflowers, did you not?”
She hugged her shawl tighter.
“I sat with a few friends. I do not care for dancing, my lord.”
“You do not care for it or…” He left the question hanging.
“I told you I was clumsy. In my first season, I had a reputation for standing on all the gentlemen’s toes.”
“Ah!”
“I should have told you before we eloped. I will be required to host balls in your townhouse, shall I not?”
“My townhouse is not large, my lady. We do not host balls there. Sometimes we do have a little dancing. When we go to balls, you will dance with me and you can step on my toes as much as you like.”
“You may not say that when they are blue and purple with bruises and do not fit into your fine hessian boots.”
“Then I shall stay home until they are better. It shall be worth it. I can lie abed and perhaps you can lie abed with me. There is plenty to do in bed once we are married.” Her breath hitched and since darkness was almost complete outside, the candlelight caught her reflection in the window. He could see the redness in her cheeks. “I meant reading. I could read to you. The works of Byron, or Mansfield Park.”
“Oh, I plan to read Mansfield Park soon. When we next go to London, I shall get it from the circulating library.”
“I’ll buy you a subscription at a subscription library,” he offered. She turned, her eyes lighting up.
“You would do that?”
“Of course.” He knew a subscription was slightly more expensive but really, to him it was pennies. He did not understand why she did not already have a subscription. Perhaps her brother was not as well off as he led everyone to believe. He knew the Earl of Whitsnow to nod to in the House of Lords or in White’s on the odd occasion someone took him there, but no more than that. Gideon’s club was Brooks’, so he was seldom in White’s. They did not have the same friends and they did not share the same interests. Whitsnow was a dour chap and altogether far too brooding for Gideon. Of course, the fellow had become an earl at the tender age of sixteen and was two years older than Gideon. This meant that there must be four years between Whitsnow and Emily. But there had been no rumours of financial troubles for the Whitsnow estates. There were usually rumours if one was a gambler or bad with investments. Of course, people had not told him of his father’s plight because… well, no one gossips to the kin of the subject of the gossip, far less the heir apparent.
He walked over to the table and picked up the book he had brought into her bedchamber earlier. He moved back quickly and presented it to her. “There is no need to borrow this one from the subscription library, however. It is part of our library.”
She ran her fingers over the gilt letters on the spine of the book and her eyebrows raised, her brow crinkling comically.
“Mansfield Park?”
“I bought it last time I was in Town. Sophia has already read it, I brought this and my own book along for the journey. I was not sure if you would think to bring a book to read.”
“I did not.”
“Then, if this is the sort of book you may be interested in, you are welcome to read it as we travel north.”
Her face lit up with excitement for a moment and then fell. “Thank you, but I shall be fine.”
“You said you wanted to read this, Emily.”
She gave a small deprecating laugh. “I do, but I would hate to damage your copy.”
He frowned. “Do you make a habit of damaging books.”
Her chin jutted out. “Not on purpose.”
“Accidents happen. If it gets damaged, it gets damaged.”
“I would prefer not, if it is all the same to you, my lord. Now I think it is time for bed.”
She walked over to the bell pull, rang for the maid to come and help her get ready for bed. He had been dismissed. She had damned well treated him like a servant.
“As you wish, my lady. We will rise early tomorrow so that we can take it slowly for the horses.”
“I bid you goodnight.”
He bent and pressed a kiss to her cheek. The discussion about the book was not over but he knew when to retreat and regroup.