so that she was on her back and he loomed over her. “Am I to interpret that to mean my saucy wife enjoys our bedroom activities?”
“Yes, I do. Very much so.”
He stared down at her, smiling, and then the brown in his eyes warmed. “Let’s get out of London for a while. Go on a proper honeymoon.”
“Where would we go?”
“My family owns an estate down in Essex. On Southland. Have you been to the pier there?”
“No.” She shook her head against the pillows. “I’ve never even seen the ocean. My family’s estate is practically in Scotland. I’ve been there and London. That is all.”
“Then it is settled. We’ll leave tomorrow. Have a proper beginning to this marriage.”
She nodded. The happiness coursing through her made her nervous. Hesitant.
“Now we’ll have no more talk about annulments,” he said. “You are my wife in every way.”
Her brow grew heavy with a frown.
“It’s wasn’t a trick, Freckles. I had always planned to consummate. I wanted you, remember. Still do.”
Let it go, she silently told herself. Let this be enough. He desired you. He still desires you. That is enough.
But despite her inner lecture, she couldn’t let it go. Before she could think better of it, she asked, “And what of your earlier promise to let me live separately? If I still despise you in six months’ time?”
She tried to keep her tone light so he wouldn’t guess she wanted him to denounce his earlier promise. How desperately she wanted him to pull her back astride him, kiss her, and declare he couldn’t fulfill his promise. That he could never let her go.
Despite her attempts to keep her tone light, she must’ve failed, because she felt him still beside her. Felt the deep breath he drew in, held, and then slowly released.
He was no doubt thinking of what to say. Of how to extract himself from her desperate clinging.
Finally, he said softly, “Don’t worry, Freckles. I’ll keep my word. In six months, we’ll be free of each other. So if you find yourself still miserable as my wife, then we can live separately. Your reputation will be protected.”
Her heart squeezed and her nose began to sting. She would not cry. There was no reason to. He was simply stating the facts. What they’d done in this bed hadn’t truly changed things between them. Their marriage wasn’t a love match, and she’d do well to remember that. Physical pleasure was one thing, and Sullivan might desire her in his bed. But that didn’t mean he’d allow her into his heart. People usually didn’t. No one she loved, save her Papa, had ever loved her in return. And she’d seen what a one-sided love did to a marriage. Poor Thomas had once adored her sister, but Melanie’s coldness had ruined both of them. Tilly wouldn’t allow that to happen to her. She would let Sullivan have her body, but she’d keep her heart safely locked away.
Once Sullivan had fallen asleep, she crept from his bed and returned to her own smaller bedchamber. Letting him take her body would be one thing, but sleeping curled in his arms was far too intimate. She’d never be able to protect herself from hurt if she allowed that. So she’d sleep alone.
…
Sullivan awoke to an empty bed.
It was still dark out, so Tilly hadn’t roused because it was morning. He reached across the bed to find her spot cold. She’d been gone a while. He exhaled slowly and looked up at the dark ceiling. She’d been so responsive during their lovemaking, he’d thought it had been a turning point in their relationship. And he’d even relented, offering her an out in a few months if he couldn’t make her happy.
Obviously, he still had work to do. He’d take her to his seaside village. Getting her out of London would serve twofold. They’d have time for just the two of them, but she also would be out of the fray of her Ladies of Virtue duties. Perhaps it would be as simple as out of sight, out of mind. The slower movement of life in Southend-on-Sea should be a welcome change to the excitement London provided. Maybe she’d see that she didn’t need her little group the way she thought she did.
And in the midst of all of that, he’d seduce her again and again until she couldn’t walk away from him. He was done questioning his good fortune. God or the fates or whatever had seen fit to put her in