Chapter Fifteen

After a long day locked away in her room, crying her eyes to red pools, Rebecca found solace in a troubled sleep. She tossed and turned restlessly, dreaming of long rows of her peers lined up and hurling insults at her. When Alex touched her shoulder, she first thought it was part of the dream and tried to throw off his hand.

“Shhh, Rebecca.” His voice was a breath across her cheek as he leaned forward to kiss her.

Her eyes blinked open, but she felt trapped in the remnants of the nightmare. For a moment, she was certain they were back on the Margaret. Only the heavy weight of the ring on her finger reminded her of where she was and with whom. “Alex?”

“I am here.”

Her eyes widened as she felt him pushing up her nightdress to stroke her thigh. “We must speak…” She trailed off, biting hard on her lip as he stroked the outside of her pussy.

“About what, wife?”

“Your trip.” She sighed as he slipped a finger inside her, slowly tracing circles around her clitoris. Rebecca reached down to push his hand away so she could think, but he caught it with his other one and trapped it between their bodies. “You cannot seduce me into forgetting you are leaving.”

He hovered above her, so close their lips were a breath away. “Of course not, love.” He lowered his head, barely pressing their lips together as his finger grew bolder. “Is it wrong to make love to my wife?” he asked as he lifted his head.

She bit back a yawn. “Alex, what will—?” His mouth stole the remainder of her question as he reclaimed her lips. Rebecca’s other hand moved from the bed to tangle in his hair. She tugged forcefully, hoping to induce him to lift his head. Instead, he retaliated by biting firmly on her tongue, making her cry out—more from shock than any real pain.

He ignored her garbled protests, swallowing them with his open mouth as his tongue swept across hers before exploring deeper recesses. Another had joined his audacious finger, and they insistently pushed at her entrance, entering an inch or two before retreating, only to repeat the teasing process again.

Despite her resolve, Rebecca felt her limbs grow heavy as the tingling in her thighs rose higher to encompass her belly, then her breasts. Her hips arched, pushing her pussy more fully against his hand, and a moan tore from her lips as he pushed the palm of his hand firmly against her sex, causing her lower body to jerk. She gave one more feeble push against his shoulder before surrendering to his questing tongue and fingers.

A climax washed over her, making her legs tremble and her thighs close reflexively around his hand. She pushed her heels into the bed, thrusting against him again and again until her climax peaked and her pounding heart slowed gradually.

Rebecca frowned as he moved away from her. She watched as he shed his clothes before rejoining her. To her surprise, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and pulled her close to him, securing her with an arm across her waist. “M’lord?”

“Yes, Rebecca?”

“Are you not—?” She licked her lips. “What of your pleasures?”

He sounded amused when he answered. “You are tired, as am I. I am content for now.” He began to rub her back in slow, gentle circles. The warmth of his hand penetrated the thin linen of her nightdress. “You please me.”

She struggled to find a shred of her earlier anger with him, going so far as to remind herself of his unthinkingly cruel words. Instead, all she felt was hurt at his lack of affection for her.

Rather than risk another storm of weeping, she forced her thoughts from their earlier encounter and his forthcoming trip. Once more, she drifted off to sleep, comforted by his arm around her. She felt cosseted in his embrace, and though she knew it was an illusion, it was comforting nonetheless.

* * * * *

Rebecca awoke to sunshine streaming through the windows, illuminating a scant amount of dust particles dancing through the air. She shivered and pulled the covers tighter around her. She made herself look at the spot beside her, unsurprised to find it empty. Once again, the imprint of his head was the only evidence he had lain with her last night.

Reluctantly, she forced herself to sit up, tucking the blanket to her neck. Perhaps Georgina had been lurking at the doorway, awaiting sounds of movement, for she knocked and entered before Rebecca had even settled into the pillows stacked against the headboard. “Good morning, Georgina.”

“M’lady.” She held up a silver salver laden with morning tea. “Cook included those biscuits you liked so much yesterday.”

Rebecca waved to the bedside table. She watched as Georgina poured tea into the china cup and handed it to her. She stirred it in a desultory fashion, watching the swirls around the small silver spoon. “Has he gone?”

“Madam?”

“Has the master left for his trip?”

“Aye, m’lady. Lord Hanover left before dawn.”

She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat before asking, “Do you know when he shall return?”

Georgina shook her head and reached into the pocket of her plain brown dress. “The master left this for you, mistress.”

“Thank you.” Rebecca set aside her teacup and saucer to accept the letter. She broke the wax seal with a trembling finger and unfolded the cream stationary to reveal his neat black lettering.

Rebecca, I know you are angry at being left behind, but my business will take me to unsavory places. I shall return from Jamaica within a month, at the latest. Refuse any invitations in my absence. We will face the jackals of society together upon my return.

Yours, Alex She gave Georgina a shaky smile. “You may go now.”

“Will you be needing anything, m’lady? The coach, perhaps?”

“Nay, I shall stay in today. If I receive any visitors besides Elizabeth Gallow, you are to tell them I am indisposed. Take their cards and let them know I shall call on them when I feel stronger.”

Georgina curtsied. “Yes, m’lady.”

Once she had gone, Rebecca took the teacup from the table and sipped at the hot brew. She looked down at the letter in her hand and sighed. What was he doing in Jamaica, and why hadn’t he told her more than his location? Was he telling her the truth, or was the casually imparted information a lie meant to pacify her?

Her gaze fell to the pillow beside her, and she sighed again. What would she do with herself for the next month? It would be a good time to cure herself of the persistent infatuation she had for her husband. She sighed once more, admitting to herself that it was more than infatuation and would not be easily quashed.