“I think we can dispense with formalities tonight,” Dexter said. “I would not have you lonely.”
They retired to the drawing room. Oliver crossed the floor to the chessboard and set out the pieces.
“Can’t that wait until tomorrow?” Dexter suggested, glancing at his wife.
“Do not desist on my account,” she said. “I’d like to watch.”
“Very well,” Dexter said. “Do you remember what I showed you—about how pieces move?”
She smiled, and he swore he saw mischief in her eyes.
Oliver needed no further encouragement. He was clearly eager to win his fifty guineas. He set out the pieces, moving them in a position to resume their game.
Dexter studied the board. As he’d remembered from when they’d reached this point before, his white pieces were surrounded by Oliver’s black ones. Any move he made would result in losing a significant piece, and Oliver had already taken both his castles and one bishop.
“I have you stumped!” Oliver said. “What shall I spend my fifty guineas on?”
“How about some humility?” Dexter growled.
Oliver chuckled. “You should concede the game now, rather than wait for me to move in for the kill. At least then, you save face by telling yourself you might have had a chance.”
Dexter gritted his teeth in frustration. A slim hand was placed on his shoulder, and a gentle fingertip caressed the skin of his neck.
“Husband, might I make a suggestion?”
“Go ahead,” he said. “The game is lost.”
“Why not move your queen?”
“Where to?”
“There.” She pointed across the board. “You’ll place the king in check.”
“No, that won’t work,” Dexter said. “His knight can take my queen. I’ve lost enough pieces as it is.”
“Very well.” She withdrew and took a chair beside the fireplace.
Oliver followed suit. “Perhaps you’re right, Hart,” he said. “We’ll conclude our game another time. Your poor wife won’t want to witness the endgame unless she’s a patron of blood sports.” He nodded toward the pianoforte in the corner of the room. “Do you play, Mrs. Hart?”
She colored and shook her head. “I’m afraid not.”
“Accomplishment is overrated,” Dexter said, noticing her stricken expression. “I find there are other qualities to be valued in a wife.”
A smile danced in her eyes. Perhaps she might trust him after all.
Perhaps she might not be averse to him visiting her chamber tonight.
***
Dexter listened at the chamber door, hearing soft footsteps and the rustle of linen. He closed his eyes and imagined his wife, slipping her naked body between the sheets. He hardened almost immediately, catching his breath.
When silence fell, he opened the door.
The room was dark save for a solitary candle. His wife lay in the bed, the sheet drawn up to her chin, staring at the canopy.
“Meggie.”
She sat up, eyes widening.
“Dexter?”
“May I join you?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I had hoped…” She averted her gaze.
His heart leapt. She wanted him!
“So had I,” he said. “I’ve been hoping and wishing for so long. Will you grant my wish, Meggie?”
She drew the sheet aside, revealing her body. His mouth watered at her shapely form. He unbuttoned his breeches and let them fall to the floor. His manhood sprang in eagerness to bury itself inside her.
Her eyes widened, then she smiled—an invitation.
Tonight, he would claim her as his—truly his. For she was giving herself freely.
***
Meggie woke and blinked in the sunlight. She’d forgotten to draw the curtains, and the window of the lady’s chamber looked full east, catching the light of the dawn. She rolled onto her side, and a pair of warm, strong arms caught her and held her body against a broad chest.
She closed her eyes, reliving the night before when her husband had taken her to heights of pleasure she never believed existed. He had touched every inch of her skin until her whole body blazed with need. With gentle commands and tender words of praise, he’d coaxed her into submission, then, when she could bear the wait no longer, he eased himself into her.
When he’d cried her name, her heart burst with love and pride. This beautiful man, who revealed so little of himself, who the world thought was cold and hard—he was not. He trusted her enough to bare his soul.
And he was hers. All hers.
“Mmm…” his voice rumbled in her ear.
“If only I could wake up every day like this.” He shifted his body, and she felt him, hard and hot, against her back.
“How shall I bid you good morning?” he murmured, his voice still laden with sleep. “Shall we break our fast in bed?”
He cupped a breast, and her nipple beaded against his palm.
“My wife shares my appetite.”
“Dexter, I’m not hungry, I…oh!” she cried out as he dipped his hand between her thighs.
“I beg to differ,” he said, his voice deepening. “My wife is ravenous.”
She shifted her thighs to accommodate him, and he murmured his approval and moved his fingertips along her flesh. Deep inside her, pleasure flared, and she tilted her head back.
He slipped his finger inside her, and her body rippled with pleasure. He captured her cries with his mouth, plunging his tongue in, devouring her. When her climax subsided, she relaxed into his arms, and he sighed, his breath warming the skin of her neck.
“I wish I could stay here forever.”
Her stomach flipped at his words. London was calling to him. His eyes had lit up with eagerness last night when Mr. Peyton discussed the bank. Now the Alderleys had gone, Dexter had no reason to remain in the country.
“Forgive me, Meggie,” he said, “for disrupting your life yet again, so soon after everything you’ve endured.”
“You’re leaving for London,” she said, flattening her tone to temper her emotion.
She freed herself from his embrace.
“Aren’t you pleased?” he asked. “It’s sooner than I’d planned, but I think you’re ready.”
“For what?”
“There’s much to do,” he continued. “You’ll find yourself under scrutiny, and though you’re beautiful to me in the dowdiest of gowns, I trust you’ll permit me a little indulgence.”
“Indulgence?”
“As soon as we arrive in London, I’ll secure an appointment with the best modiste in town.”
“I’m going with you?”
“Of course!” he said. “Do you think I want you anywhere else but at my side?”
“But I thought…”
“You thought I wanted you tucked away out of sight?” He shook his head. “My love, I sent you here to protect you. Despite the outward appearance of finery, London society is somewhat savage, and I had no wish to see you devoured by the creatures that inhabit it. But I’ve come to realize that my little wife is stronger than she looks and can deal with anything.”
He lifted her hand to his lips, his eyes glistening with pride. “I will be by your side to fight for you.”