the only memories he could bring to mind right now were the early ones. The sweet ones.
Her body, so much smaller than his, was still exquisitely shaped, a figure of delicate bones and soft, full curves. That body might be hidden beneath layers of muslin and silk at this moment, but he still remembered what she looked like without all those clothes. It might have been over eight years since he had seen her nude, but there were some things a man just did not forget.
He remembered the perfect shape of her breasts and the flare of her hips. The deep indent of her navel and the dual dints at the base of her spine. The sound of her laughter, the sight of her smile, the cries of her pleasure. He remembered the places he used to kiss that made her melt like butter—her neck, the backs of her knees, the fiddle-shaped birthmark at the top of her thigh. With those memories, he felt his body begin to burn.
"It wasn't hell all the time," he murmured. "As I recall, there were some heavenly moments here and there."
Before she could say a word of reply, he came to his senses and spoke again. "Monday, Viola. Two o'clock . You have that long to make up your mind about where we're going to live for the remainder of the season." He opened the drawing room door. " Enderby or Bloomsbury Square ."
"Neither," she managed to shout just before he stepped through the door and closed it behind him.
----
Chapter 4
He was delusional. Furious, Viola stared at the closed door, unable to believe what she had just heard. Heavenly moments? After the affairs he'd had, after the hurt she had endured, only John could say something like that, with that knowing look in his eye and that hint of a smile on his face.
Heavenly moments, indeed. She thought of his mistresses and slammed her fist into the palm of her other hand, grinding her teeth with outrage. Heavenly for him , maybe. He had been the one having all the fun.
Even during their courtship, he'd been enjoying himself elsewhere. While she had been savoring their moments together at a ball or party and happily contemplating how wonderful and exciting it was to be in love, he'd been amusing himself with Elsie.
Oh, how it had hurt to find out about that woman. Viola stared at the white panels of the door her husband had just closed, but in her mind she was seeing the pale blue walls of Lady Chetney's withdrawing room in Northumberland. She was again smelling the sweet fragrance of wassail that had permeated the Chetney's country house that Christmas. A waltz had been playing in Chetney's ballroom, she remembered, but it hadn't been enough to drown out the chattering voices of Lady Chetney's daughters and their friends.
"… pity Hammond 's in London . We lack for partners tonight and he dances so divinely ."
"Yes, indeed. Waltzing his way across Elsie Gallant's bed at this very moment, I've no doubt. She is a dancer, after all."
"No, no, he gave up the Gallant woman when he married Lady Viola."
"Not a bit of it. He still sees her when he goes to London . Gave her a sapphire necklace when he was in town a few months ago, I heard."
" Paid for the jewels with his wife's income from her brother, no doubt. After all, Hammond has no money of his own …"
She had not believed them, of course, and tried to dismiss their words as malicious gossip, but the seed of doubt had been planted. Perhaps if she had not gone searching through the steward's expenditure books, she might never have found the recorded entry for a sapphire and diamond necklace, but she had found it. To this day she could still see the steward's cramped handwriting in the ledger and feel the shattering of her stupid, trusting heart. That was the day the naive, adoring girl grew up and understood just how duplicitous a man could be.
Do you love me?
Of course I do. I adore you.
Upon his return, John had tried to explain it all away. Yes, Elsie had been his mistress, but he had ended their liaison before the wedding. Yes, he'd given
Her body, so much smaller than his, was still exquisitely shaped, a figure of delicate bones and soft, full curves. That body might be hidden beneath layers of muslin and silk at this moment, but he still remembered what she looked like without all those clothes. It might have been over eight years since he had seen her nude, but there were some things a man just did not forget.
He remembered the perfect shape of her breasts and the flare of her hips. The deep indent of her navel and the dual dints at the base of her spine. The sound of her laughter, the sight of her smile, the cries of her pleasure. He remembered the places he used to kiss that made her melt like butter—her neck, the backs of her knees, the fiddle-shaped birthmark at the top of her thigh. With those memories, he felt his body begin to burn.
"It wasn't hell all the time," he murmured. "As I recall, there were some heavenly moments here and there."
Before she could say a word of reply, he came to his senses and spoke again. "Monday, Viola. Two o'clock . You have that long to make up your mind about where we're going to live for the remainder of the season." He opened the drawing room door. " Enderby or Bloomsbury Square ."
"Neither," she managed to shout just before he stepped through the door and closed it behind him.
----
Chapter 4
He was delusional. Furious, Viola stared at the closed door, unable to believe what she had just heard. Heavenly moments? After the affairs he'd had, after the hurt she had endured, only John could say something like that, with that knowing look in his eye and that hint of a smile on his face.
Heavenly moments, indeed. She thought of his mistresses and slammed her fist into the palm of her other hand, grinding her teeth with outrage. Heavenly for him , maybe. He had been the one having all the fun.
Even during their courtship, he'd been enjoying himself elsewhere. While she had been savoring their moments together at a ball or party and happily contemplating how wonderful and exciting it was to be in love, he'd been amusing himself with Elsie.
Oh, how it had hurt to find out about that woman. Viola stared at the white panels of the door her husband had just closed, but in her mind she was seeing the pale blue walls of Lady Chetney's withdrawing room in Northumberland. She was again smelling the sweet fragrance of wassail that had permeated the Chetney's country house that Christmas. A waltz had been playing in Chetney's ballroom, she remembered, but it hadn't been enough to drown out the chattering voices of Lady Chetney's daughters and their friends.
"… pity Hammond 's in London . We lack for partners tonight and he dances so divinely ."
"Yes, indeed. Waltzing his way across Elsie Gallant's bed at this very moment, I've no doubt. She is a dancer, after all."
"No, no, he gave up the Gallant woman when he married Lady Viola."
"Not a bit of it. He still sees her when he goes to London . Gave her a sapphire necklace when he was in town a few months ago, I heard."
" Paid for the jewels with his wife's income from her brother, no doubt. After all, Hammond has no money of his own …"
She had not believed them, of course, and tried to dismiss their words as malicious gossip, but the seed of doubt had been planted. Perhaps if she had not gone searching through the steward's expenditure books, she might never have found the recorded entry for a sapphire and diamond necklace, but she had found it. To this day she could still see the steward's cramped handwriting in the ledger and feel the shattering of her stupid, trusting heart. That was the day the naive, adoring girl grew up and understood just how duplicitous a man could be.
Do you love me?
Of course I do. I adore you.
Upon his return, John had tried to explain it all away. Yes, Elsie had been his mistress, but he had ended their liaison before the wedding. Yes, he'd given
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