Page 50 of Sincerely, the Duke
SIR DUDLEY SAMSON PEMBERTON FINE
There are times when there is nothing for a gentleman to do but wait, and he must learn how to do it well.
Only one thing was expected of Edwina, and she had failed. Miserably. She didn’t possess a great deal of knowledge about intimacy but enough to understand she couldn’t get in the family way without coupling.
And that hadn’t happened last night. Why? She’d done everything her maid said was required of her. Except drink the tonic Henrietta prepared. Perhaps she should have. She’d remained still as a board as instructed, except for a few trembles and clutching the covers in her fists. She hadn’t participated in any way with the delicious kisses and tingling caressing that had her wanting to writhe in passionate spasms. She kept murmuring silently to herself, “Don’t enjoy it. Don’t enjoy it,” until she thought she was going to scream out loud. No wonder Henrietta had said it would be painful and she needed a tonic. Not responding to her husband’s gentle, seeking touch and the most tender kisses she could ever imagine was the most agonizing feeling she’d ever experienced.
Still, she’d felt wretched and on the verge of tears lastnight after the duke left her and throughout the morning. She hated crying as much as she hated the thought she’d disappointed Rick and was glad she hadn’t given in to the tears. At least not yet. If she couldn’t fulfill her part of their arrangement, she couldn’t expect Stonerick to honor his. And that would mean she’d disappointed her father too. Edwina didn’t know which ache caused her the greater misery.
Edwina sat by the window in her bedchamber, holding a cup of cold tea. Occasionally, she would take a sip. She should have gone belowstairs long ago, but she hadn’t garnered the courage to do so. It might be ridiculous, but she couldn’t help feeling everyone in the house would know she hadn’t pleased the duke last night.
She didn’t want to face them. And there was the possibility he could still be home. It would be worse facing him. Through their connecting doorway, she’d heard him moving about, talking softly to his valet earlier, but his rooms had grown silent long ago.
Glum as she felt, her thoughts returned to the one thing that made her feel better: remembering the sweet thrilling kisses and caresses her husband gave her last night. Though she’d experienced one erotic sensation after the other, she’d had to deny how they were making her feel. Still, she had wanted to lose herself in the sensual world he was taking her to and it had been a huge struggle to maintain her wits and not reach up, encircle his neck, and pull him closer, tighter, and participate with abandon in the glorious, mounting pleasure.
But that would have been even more disastrous. Henrietta had insisted she must close her eyes, lie completely still, and wait until the coupling was over. If she’d acted as if she’d enjoyed anything he did to her, he would consider her a wanton woman of the evening who’d beenwith a man before. The thought of that had given Edwina chills. She couldn’t have him thinking her a loose woman. She had promised him she was pure. And she was, but it had been so difficult to remain motionless when the duke’s touch had all her senses so attuned to him, she was ready to give in and let him think what he would about her.
Perhaps she was a wanton anyway because she had enjoyed every caress, every kiss, and every sensation that streaked through her like lightning. Her body still tingled, the taste of him lingered in her mouth. She had wanted to give in to the burning passion she was feeling for him and take the consequences of what he thought about her later. And she almost had a couple of times. She’d refused to fool herself and pretend she hadn’t enjoyed his touch and kisses. She had. Her cheeks still heated whenever she thought about how deeply they’d touched her and made her feel special to him. Perhaps that was the reason she was supposed to drink the tonic her maid had mixed for her. If she had, maybe she wouldn’t have been so affected by his touch.
She moaned softly in disillusionment as she looked out the window at the gray sky. She wondered if a storm was brewing. The air looked heavy with impending moisture. In the distance, treetops gently swayed in the wind. And she swayed with misery too. Rick had been gentle and giving last night. She wanted to lie with him again and openly enjoy his kisses without fear he’d think her blemished.
She needed to do something, but what? Her sisters wouldn’t know how to help and his mother was already suspect of her appropriateness for her son all because of her hair and eye color.
When it was decided she would attend the Season, allshe’d really wanted was a husband who would be nice to her and good to her sisters. But the duke was making her feel and want so much more than she’d ever expected. She didn’t know what to make of all that she was feeling.
A knock sounded on the door that led into the corridor, not the one connected to Rick’s rooms. Thankfully. “Come in,” she called.
Swinging the door open, the duke strode inside. Edwina didn’t know if her heartbeat fluttered, skipped, or stopped altogether for a second. She took in the sight of his tall frame, handsome as ever, dressed in well-fitted buckskin-colored trousers stuffed into below-the-knee boots, but she noticed a slight hitch to his gait. His matching dark-blue velvet coat and waistcoat trimmed with burnished buttons seemed to make his blue eyes sparkle.
Her husband was looking her over carefully too as he entered. A concerned frown wrinkled his brow and tightened his mouth. Her chest heaved softly. Just being in the room with him kept her heartbeat erratic.
Hurrying to place the tea on the tray and stand up, the cup rattled in the saucer, which caused her to almost knock over the cream pitcher when trying to right the cup. When she straightened and looked at him her heart felt as if it fell to her feet. She knew she wanted to give this man a son more than she wanted anything else in the world.
“Your Grace.”
His troubled gaze was fixed on her face. “Edwina, are you feeling all right?”
“Yes,” she answered with as much bravery as she could muster considering the rapid pound of her pulse and pool of thick breath lingering in her throat. “I’m good,” she answered, knowing it wasn’t really the truth.
“I was worried. It’s midafternoon. Palmer said you hadn’t been out of your rooms today.”
“No, I… well.” She looked around, searching for a reason that might be halfway true. “I was finishing my tea.”
He kept rapt attention on her face, and she hoped he could see how sorry she was to have failed him.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked.
Of course not!
“Adequately.” She brushed her hands nervously down the sides of her camel-colored dress and shifted her weight. “And you?”
He walked farther into the room and stopped in front of her. Edwina watched his features closely, fearful of what he might say.
“I’ve had better nights.”
She had no doubt. Probably many. That left her feeling even more disconcerted about what he may possibly be feeling about how she’d bungled their wedding night. Her eyes wanted to glisten again so she looked away from him to gain control of the disappointment in herself. She had put the duke’s title and her father’s wish for her sisters in jeopardy.
“I didn’t sleep well either,” she admitted sadly, turning back to face him. “The truth is, I expected more from myself than I was able to give last night.”
