verge of losing her nerve, Helena remembered what had seemed to release the primitive male in William. Holding her breath, she pushed her bottom against him, wiggling as much as she dared.
His arms came around her, tightened. He held her hips to his and answered her movements with his own. She wanted to sob with relief. Now it would be done quickly.
And then, as quickly as he had responded, he became still. His arms continued to hold her tight against him, but quietly, without passion. "Who was he?" he asked softly in her ear.
"Who?" She knew what he wanted. She also knew she would never tell him.
"Your lover. The man who showed you this." He ground his hips against her roughly and then stopped when she said nothing. "Your stallion. Who was he?" He was furious. But why? She had not lied to him.
She closed her eyes, seeing her last hope for respectability fleeing. "I will not tell you. Not even if you will not marry me without knowing his name."
His arms loosened around her, so that she could breathe freely again. She braced herself for his rejection, but he said only, "You are a loyal little fool, aren't you? Just like your sister." He rested his chin lightly on her shoulder and held her loosely within the circle of his arms, saying no more.
Had he changed his mind? "Do you find the idea of my lover more distressing than you had thought?"
"No." The tension drained from him and his grip loosened. "Keep your secrets, Helena. I do not need to know them. I have enough of my own."
Still, he did not continue with his lovemaking.
The feel of him behind her, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, was unnerving. She steeled herself to whisper stiffly, "Is it too difficult with me wearing men's trousers instead of skirts?"
His laughter was a soft exhalation that tickled her ear. His hands caressed her hips restlessly for a moment. "No, it would be easily enough managed, I assure you." Without warning, he moved away from her and returned to the sofa.
She opened her eyes and stared down at him. "What are you doing?" His expression gave away nothing of his feelings.
He smiled at her. His famously wicked grin.
"Nothing." She did notice his earlobes were pinker than she thought they had been earlier. Whether it was a clue to his feelings she could not say.
"But—"
"I've changed my mind."
Disappointment jolted through her. He didn't want to marry her. He was refusing Rosaline's suggestion out of hand, now that he had met her.
"I see no reason to muddy matters before we marry." His words took a moment to become clear to her as he continued on in a rational tone. "A wife should be able to take a husband's word about certain things. And I give you mine that I will not treat any child of yours, now or in the future, as a bastard."
In the future. He spoke so casually of a future together. Husband. Wife. She frowned. "Do you imply that I would be unfaithful?"
"If you take a dozen lovers it will be no matter to me. I give my word upon that matter as well."
She could not help a shudder of distaste at the thought. "I do not want a dozen lovers."
"That will be your choice."
"So, then, you are agreed that I shall take Rosaline's place at the wedding?" She wanted it clear. "If you need more time to decide—"
He shook his head sharply. "I need no more time. You are perfect for what I need."
"Even though—"
He sighed. "I do not want to hurt your delicate sensibilities, Miss Fenster. Let me be blunt. I am overjoyed that you are not a virgin. I have never had a virgin. It has always been a matter of pride with me, if you must know. Experienced women only. Certainly, I had been prepared to make an exception for a wife, but I am relieved that I shall not have to do so."
Perhaps his honest words should have reassured her. No doubt he thought they would. No doubt Ros would have found them soothing enough were she sitting here with him. "How can I trust you?"
"I will not lie to you, Helena. No doubt sometimes you will wish I
His arms came around her, tightened. He held her hips to his and answered her movements with his own. She wanted to sob with relief. Now it would be done quickly.
And then, as quickly as he had responded, he became still. His arms continued to hold her tight against him, but quietly, without passion. "Who was he?" he asked softly in her ear.
"Who?" She knew what he wanted. She also knew she would never tell him.
"Your lover. The man who showed you this." He ground his hips against her roughly and then stopped when she said nothing. "Your stallion. Who was he?" He was furious. But why? She had not lied to him.
She closed her eyes, seeing her last hope for respectability fleeing. "I will not tell you. Not even if you will not marry me without knowing his name."
His arms loosened around her, so that she could breathe freely again. She braced herself for his rejection, but he said only, "You are a loyal little fool, aren't you? Just like your sister." He rested his chin lightly on her shoulder and held her loosely within the circle of his arms, saying no more.
Had he changed his mind? "Do you find the idea of my lover more distressing than you had thought?"
"No." The tension drained from him and his grip loosened. "Keep your secrets, Helena. I do not need to know them. I have enough of my own."
Still, he did not continue with his lovemaking.
The feel of him behind her, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, was unnerving. She steeled herself to whisper stiffly, "Is it too difficult with me wearing men's trousers instead of skirts?"
His laughter was a soft exhalation that tickled her ear. His hands caressed her hips restlessly for a moment. "No, it would be easily enough managed, I assure you." Without warning, he moved away from her and returned to the sofa.
She opened her eyes and stared down at him. "What are you doing?" His expression gave away nothing of his feelings.
He smiled at her. His famously wicked grin.
"Nothing." She did notice his earlobes were pinker than she thought they had been earlier. Whether it was a clue to his feelings she could not say.
"But—"
"I've changed my mind."
Disappointment jolted through her. He didn't want to marry her. He was refusing Rosaline's suggestion out of hand, now that he had met her.
"I see no reason to muddy matters before we marry." His words took a moment to become clear to her as he continued on in a rational tone. "A wife should be able to take a husband's word about certain things. And I give you mine that I will not treat any child of yours, now or in the future, as a bastard."
In the future. He spoke so casually of a future together. Husband. Wife. She frowned. "Do you imply that I would be unfaithful?"
"If you take a dozen lovers it will be no matter to me. I give my word upon that matter as well."
She could not help a shudder of distaste at the thought. "I do not want a dozen lovers."
"That will be your choice."
"So, then, you are agreed that I shall take Rosaline's place at the wedding?" She wanted it clear. "If you need more time to decide—"
He shook his head sharply. "I need no more time. You are perfect for what I need."
"Even though—"
He sighed. "I do not want to hurt your delicate sensibilities, Miss Fenster. Let me be blunt. I am overjoyed that you are not a virgin. I have never had a virgin. It has always been a matter of pride with me, if you must know. Experienced women only. Certainly, I had been prepared to make an exception for a wife, but I am relieved that I shall not have to do so."
Perhaps his honest words should have reassured her. No doubt he thought they would. No doubt Ros would have found them soothing enough were she sitting here with him. "How can I trust you?"
"I will not lie to you, Helena. No doubt sometimes you will wish I
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