back, feeling wretched. "No, no,
do not spoil your evening. Besides, I'd rather lie here and rest
than ride in a rocking carriage."
"Certainly," Diana said, briefly resting her
hand on Honoria's cheek. "We'll stay as long as you like."
Diana found clean bandages then untied
Honoria's garter and stripped off her stocking. Christopher took
the bandages to wrap Honoria's foot himself. Diana, Honoria's
treacherous sister-in-law, let him.
Christopher's lashes flickered as he watched
his work. His touch was warm through the bandages, and the pain
began to recede as he cradled her ankle in his big hand.
Diana lingered when the bandage was in place,
bathing Honoria's face with a cloth dipped in scented water.
"I'm fine," Honoria said. "I likely only
twisted it. Thank you."
Christopher lowered her foot to the bed. His
hand rested on it, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin of her
instep. "Why did you think I was trying to kill Mr. Templeton?"
"Weren't you?" Honoria asked.
He shook his head. "He wanted a real pirate
swordfight. So I gave him one--at least, a stage one."
"I saw your sword at his throat."
Christopher eased his thumb over the top of
her foot. His touch was warm, soothing, heart-melting. "If I'd
wanted to kill him, my wife, I'd have done it much more quietly.
Someplace private, with no witnesses."
"Why does that not make me feel any
better?"
"I don't plan to kill Templeton," Christopher
said. "I don't need to. You and I are already married."
He lifted his hands from her foot, taking
away his beautiful warmth. Honoria wanted to cry out in
disappointment.
"I tore the license in half last night," she
said with a touch of defiance.
The corners of Christopher's eyes crinkled.
"If that were all it took for divorce, my love, everyone would be
doing it." He turned to Diana, who watched, wringing out the cloth.
"Mrs. Ardmore, will you excuse us?"
Honoria's heartbeat sped. "No need to go,
Diana."
Diana looked from Honoria to Christopher, and
Honoria felt her panic rise. Surely Diana, her own brother's wife,
would not turn against her.
"Do not tire her," Diana said. Honoria stared
at her in dismay. "Please send for me when she is ready to go
home."
"Diana!"
"You need to speak to him, Honoria. He
deserves that, at least."
She did not even look ashamed. Diana eased a
coverlet over Honoria then quietly left the room. Leaving Honoria
alone with Christopher, when she could not run away.
Christopher did not give Honoria time to
begin her opening argument. He leaned over the bed and kissed
her.
Cool and smooth, his lips caressed hers, and
his hair brushed her face. Honoria tried to murmur, no, but
she was too caught up in kissing him back.
She loved the warmth of his cheek beneath her
fingertips, the strong muscles of his neck moving as he kissed her.
She'd pretended to herself that she'd forgotten him, but she'd
relived the memories of him all too often.
When the house in Charleston had been at its
emptiest, the servants below stairs, and the loneliness unbearable,
Honoria would retreat to her room, shut the door, and remember.
She'd lay on her bed, hands at her sides, and
go over every moment of Christopher making love to her--every kiss,
every caress, every touch, every feeling. The way his sweat coated
her as they'd slipped and slid together, how the smooth round of
his backside felt to her fingers, how the incredible heat of his
mouth had burned hers. She'd loved him and craved him, love and
lust getting all mixed up, propriety forgotten and dust.
In the darkness, she'd hug her arms about her
chest and dissolve into tears, dreaming of the joy she could never
again have.
Honoria's ankle throbbed, dragging her back
to the present.
She placed her hands flat on Christopher's
chest but did not bother to push. Honoria knew exactly how strong
he was, and knew she'd never budge him.
"Christopher, we need to talk."
Christopher retreated a mere inch. "I'm busy
right now, sweetheart."
He eased himself down to sit
do not spoil your evening. Besides, I'd rather lie here and rest
than ride in a rocking carriage."
"Certainly," Diana said, briefly resting her
hand on Honoria's cheek. "We'll stay as long as you like."
Diana found clean bandages then untied
Honoria's garter and stripped off her stocking. Christopher took
the bandages to wrap Honoria's foot himself. Diana, Honoria's
treacherous sister-in-law, let him.
Christopher's lashes flickered as he watched
his work. His touch was warm through the bandages, and the pain
began to recede as he cradled her ankle in his big hand.
Diana lingered when the bandage was in place,
bathing Honoria's face with a cloth dipped in scented water.
"I'm fine," Honoria said. "I likely only
twisted it. Thank you."
Christopher lowered her foot to the bed. His
hand rested on it, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin of her
instep. "Why did you think I was trying to kill Mr. Templeton?"
"Weren't you?" Honoria asked.
He shook his head. "He wanted a real pirate
swordfight. So I gave him one--at least, a stage one."
"I saw your sword at his throat."
Christopher eased his thumb over the top of
her foot. His touch was warm, soothing, heart-melting. "If I'd
wanted to kill him, my wife, I'd have done it much more quietly.
Someplace private, with no witnesses."
"Why does that not make me feel any
better?"
"I don't plan to kill Templeton," Christopher
said. "I don't need to. You and I are already married."
He lifted his hands from her foot, taking
away his beautiful warmth. Honoria wanted to cry out in
disappointment.
"I tore the license in half last night," she
said with a touch of defiance.
The corners of Christopher's eyes crinkled.
"If that were all it took for divorce, my love, everyone would be
doing it." He turned to Diana, who watched, wringing out the cloth.
"Mrs. Ardmore, will you excuse us?"
Honoria's heartbeat sped. "No need to go,
Diana."
Diana looked from Honoria to Christopher, and
Honoria felt her panic rise. Surely Diana, her own brother's wife,
would not turn against her.
"Do not tire her," Diana said. Honoria stared
at her in dismay. "Please send for me when she is ready to go
home."
"Diana!"
"You need to speak to him, Honoria. He
deserves that, at least."
She did not even look ashamed. Diana eased a
coverlet over Honoria then quietly left the room. Leaving Honoria
alone with Christopher, when she could not run away.
Christopher did not give Honoria time to
begin her opening argument. He leaned over the bed and kissed
her.
Cool and smooth, his lips caressed hers, and
his hair brushed her face. Honoria tried to murmur, no, but
she was too caught up in kissing him back.
She loved the warmth of his cheek beneath her
fingertips, the strong muscles of his neck moving as he kissed her.
She'd pretended to herself that she'd forgotten him, but she'd
relived the memories of him all too often.
When the house in Charleston had been at its
emptiest, the servants below stairs, and the loneliness unbearable,
Honoria would retreat to her room, shut the door, and remember.
She'd lay on her bed, hands at her sides, and
go over every moment of Christopher making love to her--every kiss,
every caress, every touch, every feeling. The way his sweat coated
her as they'd slipped and slid together, how the smooth round of
his backside felt to her fingers, how the incredible heat of his
mouth had burned hers. She'd loved him and craved him, love and
lust getting all mixed up, propriety forgotten and dust.
In the darkness, she'd hug her arms about her
chest and dissolve into tears, dreaming of the joy she could never
again have.
Honoria's ankle throbbed, dragging her back
to the present.
She placed her hands flat on Christopher's
chest but did not bother to push. Honoria knew exactly how strong
he was, and knew she'd never budge him.
"Christopher, we need to talk."
Christopher retreated a mere inch. "I'm busy
right now, sweetheart."
He eased himself down to sit
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