Page 79 of The Favourite

She had just dragged herself out of bed when he emerged in a short tunic of turquoise with very long tapered sleeves. “Why are you up?” he asked with a frown. “I was going to ask for a bath to be sent in for you.”

Jane glanced past him to the looking glass and suffered a nasty jolt. Her hair was an unruly mess and the skin at her décolletage looked blotchy and red. Seeing the direction of her horrified gaze, he laughed and strode across the room to catch her about the waist. “Ah, Jane,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Anyone who saw you this morn would know you had been thoroughly mauled.”

“I told you what would happen if I left my hair loose!” she retorted, trying to pat it down.

“I like it,” he said, turning her toward the mirror so they could see their reflections there. “I like that only I have seen my proper wife in such a state.” His hand stroked at her waist and Jane practically sagged against him, feeling weak. Oh gods, why were her legs trembling so? It was almost as if her body was reacting of its own volition.

He looked immaculate as ever, jewels flashing at his fingers and a pearl-encrusted hat set above his waving locks. They presented a strange contrast in appearances.

“I look a mess,” Jane murmured, lowering her gaze.

“You look enchanting,” he corrected her caressingly. “I am half tempted to disappoint Alphonse and send my apologies.”

Jane’s head snapped up and she could not hide her panicked reaction. “But if I am to have a bath, what would you do here, my lord?”

“Hmmm, maybe … wash your back,” he suggested richly. Jane’s response stuck in her throat. “Or someplace else.”

“My lord …” she said in strangled tones. His gaze snapped to hers in the mirror and Jane felt his fingers slide from her waist to clasp her hips in a firm grip.

“You are a temptation, Jane,” he said thickly. “I think I should like to keep you tucked in my bedchamber awaiting my pleasure. Mayhap I should chain you to my bed with ropes of topazes. What say you to that?”

Jane’s mouth fell open. What? For a moment, she felt genuinely alarmed. “Th-that does not sound very practical,” she objected breathlessly.

He pressed his mouth to her neck and Jane forgot to breathe. “If you were my pampered mistress, that is what I would do with you, Jane,” he said thickly. “Alas, as my lady wife, I could not subject you to such rude treatment.”

Jane stiffened. “Is that how you usually conduct yourself with your kept women?”

His smile broadened. “I am not normally so fanciful,” he said lightly, wrapping his arms about her middle. “Are you jealous, wife? You have no need to be for you are wife and mistress both, is that not so?”

Jane tried to relax, but the truth was, she felt affronted. “I thought we had done with that nonsense about mistresses,” she said sternly.

“And now,” he sighed, “you are all prickly and outraged. The strange thing is, I like that too,” he said tightening his arms. “I always have, you know.”

In spite of herself, Jane felt herself relax. “I know you like to torment me,” she said, trying to sound scolding and failing miserably.

“I do,” he admitted softly, still holding her close. “Now turn around and bestow a kiss on me, wife. It would be a great kindness, for I am in a bad way.”

“A bad way?” she echoed uncertainly.

He nodded. “In truth, I should like nothing more than to wrap us both in that bedsheet again,” he said nodding over her shoulder toward the bed. “And to stay with you like that all the day long.”

Jane caught her breath and turned about in his arms so they were facing. She had a terrible feeling that he could tell how badly his words affected her. Why did she feel so emotional these days? She liked to think of herself as measured and sensible in all things, but she could feel her lips quivering and a flush spreading over her neck. “Very well,” she whispered.

Instead of teasing, he bent his neck at once and pressed a hard kiss to her mouth. Jane passed her arms about him, and he startled her by chasing her mouth when she went to pull back. This time he was gentler, sealing his lips to hers and sipping almost sweetly. Almost in spite of herself, Jane relaxed into his kiss and felt herself grow pliant against him, parting her lips for his tongue.

“Ah Jane, how dare you say I torment you,” he rasped when he finally drew back. “This tunic is far too short for you to dally with me like that, wife. How am I to listen to Alphonse’s prating when you have made me hunger and thirst for you at this indecently early hour?”

Jane could barely meet his eye, but she dwelt on that kiss to an unseemly degree as she soaked in the bathtub once he had departed. Alisander de Balon did not find her dull and worthy. He found her terribly exciting, and the realization made her head spin.

“I said,” Ayleth’s voice broke in sharply, “are you ready to come out yet?” Jane snapped hastily out of her dreamy state and hastily assented. From Ayleth’s tone, Jane guessed she had already repeated the question several times. “You’re turning wrinkled from that bathwater, my lady,” the servant observed.

Jane stood up and was promptly engulfed in a drying sheet. As Ayleth busied herself laying out clean undergarments, Jane made her way to the looking glass and surreptitiously examined herself. Even after her bath, there were several telling blotches showing where Alisander had mouthed at her sensitive skin. The one at her collarbone had the most unfortunate placement.

Pulling down the sheet, she discovered the worst of them above her left breast. He had sucked that mark onto her, she remembered, turning prickly and hot all over. His mouth had seemed ravenous for the taste of her. She had never even dreamt that lovers acted thus. She pressed two fingers to the raised pink skin.

No one would see it and it was nothing to signify, she told herself as she crossed the room to stand before the fire and dry herself.

“I wonder if I might have a word, my lady,” Ayleth began grimly, turning from the clothes she had laid out ready on the bed.