Page 99 of Dick Stone, Regency Stud
“I bet you know plenty of happy wives, Dick Stone,” she said, grabbing him by the waistcoat. She was ferocious for a little thing, her grip firm and eyes flashing as she prepared to eviscerate him for something to which she’d taken offense. Damn and blast.
“I suppose I do…” he said, suddenly doubting the wisdom of his offer.
“Do you think I’d be a happy wife if my husband wondered why I was friends with the notorious seducer Dick Stone?”
“I fear not,” he said, his voice growing small as he tried to appease her.
Tabby released his waistcoat. “Come along then, I’ve a virginity to be rid of. This has gone on long enough. I’m tired of it offering options I don’t want.”
***
When Tabby marched into their lodgings instead of heading for a seedy neighborhood, he should have known that something was afoot. After he set the lock, she began pulling off her clothes —hisclothes — and casting them on the floor. He followed behind her, picking up garments and trying to understand what she was about.
“Now, see here!” he shouted when she sent her shirtsleeves to the rug in a billow.
She turned around, letting him see her narrow, bare shoulders and the scrap of fabric over her breasts for the first time.
“I need to be rid of it,” she said. “Will you do it for me?”
He was so used to saying yes to her that the words almost escaped his lips before he realized what she was asking.
“What?”
“Will you, well, I suppose I’m not allowed to say roger,” she mused. “Will you fuck me?”
Edward stood in his —their— bedroom, his arms full of clothes, and tried to understand the request.
“I need you to take or break it, whatever you’ve gotta do to get me rid of this thing.”
“You want me to take your virginity?”
“Needs must,” she said with a shrug that shouldn’t have looked so alluring. She collapsed onto the bed, easily tugging off her too-big, borrowed boots. With a wry smile, she added, “Consider it repayment for selling the boots you gave me.”
“Don’t joke like that,” he said hoarsely. “We’re friends.”
“Joke that you should help me get rid of this thing or that I’m paying you back for selling your gift?” she asked, now sad. “The boots were a nice present. The nicest I ever got. And I sold them. I thought it would let us stay friends. My project. That’s why I sold ’em.”
She stood and worked at her falls, fingers struggling with the buttons.
“Shhh,” said Edward, drawing close but resisting the urge to wrap his arms around her.
Tabby was upset, her eyes a little wet and lips rosier than usual. When had that happened? When had her lips started to look so pretty?
“You don’t know what it’s like,” she whispered.
“I don’t,” he agreed.
She collapsed forward, her face planted somewhere near his breastbone. For Edward, it was like eating a good deal of bread after going hungry for some time; he felt full, almost upsettingly so after such a long stretch without.
He set his hand in her hair and stroked it.
“I’m not so stupid as to think that being a courtesan won’t hurt me sometimes.”
His hand tightened in her strands until she yelped. “Then do something else,” he begged. “Maybe you’re meant to get married and fall in love!”
Tabby looked up, regarding him with pity. “You think love is for people like me? You might as well tell me to wish for someone tobring me chocolate in bed each morning. If I woke up expecting that, the things Idideat would taste like ash. Don’t put your toff expectations on me, Dick Stone.”
“Toff expectations!” he cried. “You’re the one who has decided that I’m going to have a loveless marriage with a woman who hates you, all for making heirs for a marquessate that has brought me nothing but angst these past ten years, if not longer.”
