Regency Affairs Part 2: Books 7-12 Of 12. Ann Lethbridge

allow me to be your maid for tonight.’

      Sophie gulped. ‘We will be entirely alone.’

      ‘What passes between us, Sophie, is strictly private. No audience needed.’

      Rather than glancing at his face, Sophie toyed with the beaded portion of her glove. She wasn’t sure if she should feel pleased or distinctly shocked. He made it seem as though it was an everyday occurrence. And for him perhaps it was. She didn’t want to think about all the other women he must have known. She had to wonder if Myers was used to disappearing when Richard brought his new mistress back to his rooms. Not mistress, she corrected her thoughts. She was his wife. ‘Is it normal for married people to behave this way?’

      ‘Normal people be damned! It is how I want to behave.’

      Sophie folded her hands together primly. ‘I merely asked. I didn’t want to provoke comment. I know how servants talk and gossip. I was brought up to respect convention.’

      ‘There won’t be, not about that.’ He took her hand and slowly removed her glove, finger by finger. The gold band gleamed against her naked flesh. ‘People do not pry into the bedroom of married people, Sophie. Our marriage will be on everyone’s lips for a few weeks. Can your conventional soul withstand that?’

      ‘Yes.’ She put her hand on Richard’s cheek and felt the soft bristles against her palm. ‘I have never done this before.’

      ‘We are both new at marriage.’ He turned his face to her palm and kissed it. ‘We shall grow in it together.’

      His words sent a soothing balm over her jangled nerves. He might be infinitely more experienced in the ways of love than she, but he had never been married before, either. This was the start of a new life for the both of them. It was something they could share together.

      ‘It is a good thought.’

      Sophie started to lean towards him. The carriage jolted to a halt and the coachman opened the door. Instantly she sat bolt upright. Richard got out first and turned back to her with his hands outstretched.

      ‘Are you ready?’

      ‘Ready?’

      ‘I intend to carry you over the threshold.’

      ‘You don’t have to. I must weigh a ton. I ate far too much of the seed cake.’

      ‘You will be as light as a feather. I want this to be perfect.’

      ‘Very well. You may carry me.’

      He put his arms about her and she looped her hands about his neck. Sophie noticed the servants filed out after the door had been opened. Richard had arranged everything to perfection.

      Richard carried Sophie into the bedroom. Myers and Jane had done their work well. The severe masculinity of the room had been transformed with vases of flowers, flickering candles and Sophie’s nightdress, prettily arranged with ribbons. A cold repast of cheese, apples and bread sat on a small table beside the small coal fire. Everything ripe for seduction.

      He could not have planned it better.

      ‘Shall I put you on the bed?’ he whispered in Sophie’s ear.

      ‘I’d prefer to stand.’

      ‘Would you mind telling me why?’ he asked, slowly lowering her to the floor. He had to hope that Sophie’s stepmother hadn’t filled her head with silly notions about propriety. When Sophie had insisted on changing and her stepmother followed her up, Richard had known what was coming—the talk about doing your duty and allowing a man to take his pleasure. Always have the light off and other nonsensical rules. It was little wonder she had seemed distant in the carriage, bringing up all manner of topics for discussion. Her stepmother had probably scared her half to death.

      ‘Why, Sophie, is it necessary for you to stand?’ he enquired softly when she bowed her head.

      ‘You have to be careful when you sit in a crinoline. They have tendency to fly up and expose everything.’ Sophie gave a feeble laugh. ‘It took me ages of practising before my stepmother would allow me out of the house. And you have to know where your skirts are. Fanny Hubert suffered terrible burns to her legs when her skirt caught fire. Luckily, I remembered to shout roll like Henri had taught me or it could have been far worse.’

      ‘Why wear it if it is so dangerous?’

      ‘Because it weighs so much less than six petticoats.’ She laughed and placed her finger against his lips. ‘And here I thought you were more than adequate as a maid.’

      ‘I’m obviously out of practise.’

      ‘Then we must hope you do a good job of it tonight.’ Her hands went to her tiny hat. ‘I expect you to be neat and tidy or Jane will grumble.’

      ‘I will be what I am,’ Richard growled, reaching for her. ‘And your maid will mind her manners about you or she will have to find another situation. But since you asked so prettily, I will do my best to keep your clothes neat.’

      Sophie’s heart gave a little leap as he quickly divested her of the jacket and undid the back buttons of the dress. The cool air licked her shoulders as she stood in the centre of the room dressed only in her crinoline, corset and combination.

      He walked all around her.

      ‘It is a cage.’

      ‘It hooks at the back.’ Somehow the knowledge he had not encountered a crinoline before made everything easier. The enormity of what was about to happen hit her as he carried her into the bedroom. She wanted to please him and all she could think about was that awful night four years ago.

      The last thing she wanted was Richard getting angry with her. She wanted to be perfection and drive all thoughts of other women out of his mind. She wanted to match the picture he had painted in her mind yesterday, but she’d never done anything like this before.

      ‘Step,’ he commanded, releasing the crinoline and pushing it down over her hips. His hands caressed her hips, sending tiny licks of fire throughout her body, driving all thoughts of the other time away. This was different. This was Richard and she desired his touch.

      He undid the hooks of her corset and sent that tumbling to the ground as well. Without giving her time to think, he lifted her up again and gently laid her on the bed.

      ‘I prefer slippers to boots, Sophie,’ he said, undoing the laces of her half-boots and easing them off. ‘And I don’t care about fashion, I want you to be able to breathe.’

      ‘I like to look fashionable.’ Sophie lifted her hands and removed the pins from her hair, allowing it to tumble about her shoulders.

      ‘You look utterly delectable.’ He moved her hair and kissed her neck. ‘Even better when you are undressed.’

      He undid his neckcloth and quickly took off his shoes, coat and shirt but left on his trousers.

      Sophie realised with a start that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. His skin gleamed golden in the candlelight.

      The bed sagged when he sat down next to her. His hand stroked her hair, sending a tingle down her spine.

      The hard knot of misery had vanished to be replaced by something new and exciting.

      She reached up a hand and stroked his cheek. ‘Hello, husband.’

      Instantly he rolled over on top of her and she felt the full hard length of him.

      He bent his head and kissed her. Their tongues met and parted. The wildfire which had spread through her yesterday, reignited, blazing hotter and more out of control because she knew what was coming. Her nipples tightened and her back arched, demanding more of him.

      His mouth left hers and trailed down her throat, lower and lower until he reached her breasts. Rather than moving the material away, his tongue drew lazy circles, turning it translucent, so that her nipples showed a dusky pink.

      She