lips, the heat of his skin, but nothing truly important about his character. What made him happy? Sad? Was he kind to his servants or cruel? Was he arrogant or humble?
Who was the Earl of Lorne?
“Do you have nothing to say?” he asked.
She closed her eyes, praying for guidance. Would God be annoyed at her petition? Had God become tired of listening to her prayers?
Once more, God, and I shall trouble you no more. Or at least today. Give me the words to reply to him. Let me be wise and yet not offer myself up for more criticism.
Dear heavens, she was tired of being pilloried.
“No,” she said firmly. “I wasn’t a virgin.”
Time stretched between them, measured in her slow and heavy breaths. She willed her heart to slow its frantic beat, pinned the corners of her mouth into the semblance of a smile.
“You have no explanation?” he asked.
“No,” she said, forcing herself to look at him. “You knew there was scandal surrounding me, that I had shamed my family. Had you no idea I might not come to you as an innocent?”
He didn’t speak. Neither did he look away.
“For what reason would I explain? For your approval?” She allowed the silence to stretch between them. “Is it necessary that you approve of me?”
“Have you always chosen your own path?”
She tried to bite back her smile, she truly did, but it was such an incongruous statement that she couldn’t help but be amused.
“I am naked in a bed with a stranger I’ve just married. Hardly a decision I would have made myself. Or a path I would have chosen.”
“You enjoyed yourself,” he said. The statement was almost smug.
“I did,” she admitted, looking away. “Should I be ashamed?”
“Do you feel shame?” he asked, moving to the edge of the bed and then standing.
A strange time to ask that question. Or was he simply calling attention to the fact that he was naked and nearly fully erect again. Had he no shame?
“Shame? It’s a word that seems to have a variety of definitions,” she said, “depending upon the person you ask. But it all comes down to behavior, does it not?”
“What do you decree as shameful behavior?” he asked.
Without thinking, she spoke. “Cruelty. Falsehoods.”
“Not flashing your ankles or being too forward?” His smile was not taunting but kind. “Who was cruel to you, Davina?”
When she was silent, his smile faded. “Another confession that I’ll not hear, I think,” he said. “Never mind. I don’t require that you share your mind with me. Just your body.”
He moved to the door, grabbing his clothing as he went. Did he not intend to dress before leaving her?
“Will you not shock the servants?” she asked.
He only laughed as he walked through the doorway. A moment later, she heard the door of her suite close behind him.
Chapter 7
T he morning sky was glowing richly pink and orange, bathing the world with celebratory colors. A tint of it touched the window, drifted shyly onto the sill, and brushed against Davina’s hand as she sat on the vanity stool and watched Nora arrange her hair.
Nora didn’t comment on her appearance, although she did smile occasionally as if attempting to stifle her amusement.
Davina stared at her reflection. Her eyes were different, sparkly somehow, and there was a pink mark on her chin. There were other places on her body that bore similar marks, but she’d powdered them and covered herself before allowing Nora into her room.
Nothing could lessen the heightened blush on her cheeks, however, and her lips appeared almost swollen. Anyone would know the extent of her experience if he looked hard enough.
Last night had been a revelation, but not simply a physical one. Somehow, Marshall had also invaded her mind, even occupying her dreams. As she sat patiently waiting for Nora to finish, she couldn’t help but remember his touch. Without any difficulty at all, she could close her eyes and envision him beside her, wearing that strange half smile.
She
Who was the Earl of Lorne?
“Do you have nothing to say?” he asked.
She closed her eyes, praying for guidance. Would God be annoyed at her petition? Had God become tired of listening to her prayers?
Once more, God, and I shall trouble you no more. Or at least today. Give me the words to reply to him. Let me be wise and yet not offer myself up for more criticism.
Dear heavens, she was tired of being pilloried.
“No,” she said firmly. “I wasn’t a virgin.”
Time stretched between them, measured in her slow and heavy breaths. She willed her heart to slow its frantic beat, pinned the corners of her mouth into the semblance of a smile.
“You have no explanation?” he asked.
“No,” she said, forcing herself to look at him. “You knew there was scandal surrounding me, that I had shamed my family. Had you no idea I might not come to you as an innocent?”
He didn’t speak. Neither did he look away.
“For what reason would I explain? For your approval?” She allowed the silence to stretch between them. “Is it necessary that you approve of me?”
“Have you always chosen your own path?”
She tried to bite back her smile, she truly did, but it was such an incongruous statement that she couldn’t help but be amused.
“I am naked in a bed with a stranger I’ve just married. Hardly a decision I would have made myself. Or a path I would have chosen.”
“You enjoyed yourself,” he said. The statement was almost smug.
“I did,” she admitted, looking away. “Should I be ashamed?”
“Do you feel shame?” he asked, moving to the edge of the bed and then standing.
A strange time to ask that question. Or was he simply calling attention to the fact that he was naked and nearly fully erect again. Had he no shame?
“Shame? It’s a word that seems to have a variety of definitions,” she said, “depending upon the person you ask. But it all comes down to behavior, does it not?”
“What do you decree as shameful behavior?” he asked.
Without thinking, she spoke. “Cruelty. Falsehoods.”
“Not flashing your ankles or being too forward?” His smile was not taunting but kind. “Who was cruel to you, Davina?”
When she was silent, his smile faded. “Another confession that I’ll not hear, I think,” he said. “Never mind. I don’t require that you share your mind with me. Just your body.”
He moved to the door, grabbing his clothing as he went. Did he not intend to dress before leaving her?
“Will you not shock the servants?” she asked.
He only laughed as he walked through the doorway. A moment later, she heard the door of her suite close behind him.
Chapter 7
T he morning sky was glowing richly pink and orange, bathing the world with celebratory colors. A tint of it touched the window, drifted shyly onto the sill, and brushed against Davina’s hand as she sat on the vanity stool and watched Nora arrange her hair.
Nora didn’t comment on her appearance, although she did smile occasionally as if attempting to stifle her amusement.
Davina stared at her reflection. Her eyes were different, sparkly somehow, and there was a pink mark on her chin. There were other places on her body that bore similar marks, but she’d powdered them and covered herself before allowing Nora into her room.
Nothing could lessen the heightened blush on her cheeks, however, and her lips appeared almost swollen. Anyone would know the extent of her experience if he looked hard enough.
Last night had been a revelation, but not simply a physical one. Somehow, Marshall had also invaded her mind, even occupying her dreams. As she sat patiently waiting for Nora to finish, she couldn’t help but remember his touch. Without any difficulty at all, she could close her eyes and envision him beside her, wearing that strange half smile.
She
Similar Books
