“I enjoyed it,” she said in a rather sunny tone. “I think your wife will too, especially if you let her touch you. Although, just watching is incredibly arousing.”
He wasn’t sure he agreed with her as to Sabrina enjoying it. “Did you…touch yourself?”
“No, but I should have. And I will. Next time, we can do that together.”
“There will not be a next time.” He shouldn’t have allowed a first time, even if he thought it would help.
“If you change your mind, I’d be happy to see you again. In the meantime, I wish you luck with your wife.”
“Thank you.” He would take all the luck he could get.
“I hope this helped. I’m leaving now. Good night.” The door clicked shut, indicating she’d gone. Constantine realized he was still clutching the bloody bedpost.
He released the post and shook out his hand, the muscles tight from clenching so hard. Swiping his hand over his face, he’d forgotten about the bloody blindfold. He untied it at the back of his head and pulled it away. Blinking, he stared into the near darkness, as if he could discern the woman’s imprint before him. He could still smell her decadent tropical scent and would forever equate that with toe-curling bliss.
Trudging to the chair, he pulled his boots on. Could he seduce Sabrina as he must?
He thought of how she was trying to change and wondered if he should be doing the same. Perhaps he’d find the real Constantine buried somewhere beneath duty and expectation.
Was there a real Constantine other than who he was? When had his wife’s arrival provoked some sort of existential dilemma?
I am who I am supposed to be.
But was that the husband he wanted to be?
Chapter 11
Sabrina pushed the emerald through her earlobe and turned her head to watch the jewel sparkle in the candlelight. The matching necklace was heavy against her throat. She brushed her hand over the brilliant green gems. She certainly looked like a countess, even if she didn’t completely feel like one yet.
Rising from the stool at the dressing table, she moved in front of the long glass and held still while Charity drew the green and gold ball gown over her head. Sabrina smoothed the garment over her waist and hips before Charity fastened the small row of buttons at the back.
“Beautiful, my lady,” Charity said with a smile as she fetched the gloves.
“Only because of what you accomplished with my hair.” Sabrina touched the back of her head, marveling at how sophisticated she looked with the jewels gleaming among the red-gold curls.
“I’ve so enjoyed learning how to dress hair. I believe it’s my favorite part of becoming a lady’s maid.”
“You have a natural skill.” Sabrina pulled on the gloves and took a final look in the mirror before pivoting.
“Your reticule.” Charity went back to the dressing table to retrieve it and handed it to Sabrina.
“Thank you, Charity. I shall see you later. Enjoy your evening.”
As Sabrina made her way downstairs, she wondered if she would encounter her husband. He’d been ever-present in her mind since last night. How could he not be? She’d been forever changed by their encounter, and he hadn’t even known she was there.
That deception stuck in the back of her mind, as did everything she’d learned about what was wrong with their past attempts at coupling. Hearing his perspective about how the other night had gone between them, when they’d finally shared a bed, was eye-opening. She needed to learn to relax, to be comfortable with his touch. Last night had been a step in that direction, and for that reason alone, she couldn’t regret it.
She’d made it to the bottom of the stairs, and there Aldington was standing in the threshold to the foyer. Aldington? She ought to think of him as Constantine, especially after last night.
His eyes locked on her, his lips parting as he slowly perused her. Sabrina couldn’t move. It was as if he held her captive. Her breath snagged while she waited for him to speak.
At last he said, “You’re going to the assembly?”
She hadn’t realized she’d been hoping for a compliment until he didn’t give her one. “Yes. I wish you were coming with me.” She moved toward him across the marble floor of the stair hall. “Will you be up when I return?”
“I imagine you’ll be late. These assemblies go on well past midnight. Indeed, I may be out late myself, so you shouldn’t expect me.”
Sabrina closed the distance between them. Had she imagined the progress they’d been making? Perhaps she was giving too much credit to last night, which didn’t even count since he hadn’t known it was her. “You said you would fulfill my desire.”
His nostrils flared as she whispered the last word.
“A child,” she clarified.
His eyes darkened. “Why didn’t you want to marry me?”
She blinked, surprised by his question. He’d known and married her anyway? Of course he had. He was nothing if not the embodiment of duty and responsibility. “I didn’t realize you knew,” she answered softly.
“My father informed me the day before the wedding. He said you’d wanted to cry off, but he refused to endure a scandal.”
She was having trouble drawing a deep enough breath. “Would you have preferred the scandal of calling it off to marrying me?”
His brow furrowed into deep grooves. “Of course not.”
That would have been unconscionable. Sabrina wrung her hands together, her palms moist inside her gloves. “I didn’t want to marry anyone. I was so…anxious. About everything. Just the thought of having a Season, of going out in crowds, was nearly devastating to me.” By the time she finished, she could barely hear her own words. Perhaps that was due to the blood rushing in her ears.
“Yet, you are going out into a very crowded assembly tonight,” he noted.
“Yes, because I am working on overcoming my fears. I must. I am a countess, and I mean to behave like one. I didn’t before now—certainly not when we wed, and not last Season either.” She hadn’t finished trying to explain herself to him. But would he understand? Would he even try? “I’ve always struggled in large groups of people. I’m nervous and shy, and I want to stand in the shadows so no one will talk to me. No one will see my mistakes if they aren’t paying attention.”
His lips parted, but he didn’t say anything, so she went on.
“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to marry you. I didn’t want to marry anyone. I wanted to stay at my father’s country estate and probably become a spinster.” Now she took a breath, her heart speeding.
“That’s why you love Hampton Lodge so much.” He spoke with the measured words of someone who had just learned something. “You can hide there.”
A lightness spread through her. Perhaps he was beginning to understand her. “I hadn’t thought of it that way, but yes, I can hide there. Only, I can’t hide anymore. I am a countess—your countess—and I have a duty. Someday, I will—hopefully—guide my own daughter through her Season. How can I do that if I don’t gain the confidence I need to be successful?” She took another breath, her pulse finally slowing. “Anyway, you didn’t want to marry me either.”