Bride Who Fell in Love with Her Husband Read Online Free PDF Page B

“My mother will not be pleased with your interference. Are you certain you’re up to the fight?”
    He turned back to her and must have seen a devilish gleam in her eyes, for he chuckled wholeheartedly.
    * * * *
    A week passed without Thomas finding a way to her room. He was charming and attentive, yet held himself back from any sort of overt affection. It was a companionable existence and Rose hated it to her bones. She desired a second chance to please him. On their wedding night, she had found pleasure when he’d kissed and touched her so intimately. It was trying to separate courtesan and wife that left her puzzled. Were wives supposed to enjoy love play or had the orgasm been a fluke?
    It was common knowledge amongst courtesans that men expected their wives to be proper at all times, even in bed, and looked to courtesans for passion. Had she been misled? Or was she doomed to be sinful no matter how hard she tried to behave?
    Life was such a confusing muddle.
    Sighing, she walked to the wardrobe and pulled out a small chest. She carried it to the bed and opened the lid. Inside was a feathered hat, scandalously bright, the sort of hat that no proper wife would dare wear in public.
    This ridiculous hat, once worn by a beautiful courtesan named Rose, was her last link to the life she’d left behind; now it was no more than a symbol of a young woman torn between past the present. She’d hated being a courtesan, but wondered if she could be happy here.
    Stroking a yellow feather, she stared at the door. Thomas was everything she wanted, wasn’t he? “Of course he is what I want,” she whispered without true conviction. “I can be an excellent wife. I know I can. I just need another chance.”
    Despairing that he’d never come again to bed her, in spite of his assurance that he still wanted her, Rose noticed that it was nearing ten o’clock on this, the eighth day of their marriage, when she finally heard Thomas approach her room. She was dressed in a pale pink nightdress, which she’d chosen in the hope of his visit, but without entirely expecting him to do so. Though their moments together outside of bed were amiable and without strife, she didn’t know how long he’d go before bedding her again, if ever.
    The door opened, and Thomas looked slightly disheveled as he walked inside. Her heart danced.
    â€œI wasn’t convinced you’d come.” She laid her brush on the dressing table and stood. She clasped her hands together to keep them from shaking.
    â€œI could not stay away any longer,” Thomas admitted. He walked to her and ran his hand over her soft hair. “I hope I am welcome.”
    Rose closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his hands. His knuckles brushed her cheek as he played with the silken strands. This tickled her skin and she sighed softly. “Of course you are welcome. You are my husband.”
    Releasing her hair and stepping back, he pulled his shirt up and over his head. He tossed it toward the recently vacated dressing-table stool.
    She struggled to keep from melting at his feet. He cut a fine figure. Trim, yet finely honed, he was perfect. She wanted to touch him, but wasn’t confident she’d not make a mistake, so she pulled back her outstretched hand. She did not want a repeat of their first night. She needed guidance, but she did not know how to ask for it.
    â€œYou are welcome to touch me, love.” He reached for her hand and placed it on his chest. “I fact, your touch is most acceptable.”
    Nodding, Rose left her hand in place, feeling his heartbeat beneath her palm. He was strength and kindness, her husband.
    â€œI do not know what to do,” she said. “I am afraid I will do something in error and ruin this moment.”
    Thomas tipped up her face with his fingertip. “I want you to feel me, to assuage your curiosity about my body, to do anything you wish to me. I do not want you to