She laughed. “Since you’ve also written books and for the paper, I think you should know the answer to that.”
“But I haven’t planned a wedding,” he countered, stroking a hand down her back.
They’d both removed their shoes and stockings. Val had taken off his coat, and Caro had changed into a dressing gown because lying down would have been impossible in her corset, petticoat, and skirt. As a result, they were as close to undressed as they’d ever been in one another’s company.
She stared at the canopy above her head. “It wasn’t so much more difficult as more rushed. Fortunately, I had servants to help with packing my belongings, and Mama and Kate did a great deal as well. So perhaps it wasn’t so much the planning that fatigued me as anxiety.”
He looked down at her with a smile. “I was nervous as well.”
His admission startled her. “You were? I didn’t realize men suffered from wedding-related nerves.” It had never occurred to her that men would feel any sort of negative emotions about their nuptials. “What is there to be nervous about? You can maintain your life just as it was before the ceremony if you wish. You needn’t give up any ownership of your property. You continue to live in your own house, sleep in your own bed. Nothing really needs to change for you.”
She considered mentioning that if he had a mistress, he could keep her as well, but considering their earlier argument, she thought it best to keep that thought to herself. And if she were honest, despite her earlier assurances, she was fairly certain she’d claw out the other woman’s eyes if she ever learned her existence was anything more than hypothetical.
“Men have every advantage in marriage,” she finished. “Women have none.”
“You really dislike my sex, don’t you?” he asked with an uncomfortable laugh.
“Your sex,” she emphasized. “Not you. If I didn’t like you, I would never have agreed to marry you. Or rather, I would have been much less willing. If my father had been threatened with ruin, I very likely would have married even someone as loathsome as Lord Tate—though thankfully he is already wed, so that would not have been a possibility.”
“I don’t like to think of you married to anyone else,” Val said roughly, pulling her onto his chest again. “You’re mine now.”
His possessiveness sent a thrill of pleasure through her. As much as Caro valued her independence, on some level, she’d always longed to feel as if she belonged to someone. And, conversely, to have someone belong to her. For better or worse, as their vows said, they were each other’s now. The thought was comforting but also a little terrifying.
Turning the subject back to a less alarming topic, she asked, “But you said you were nervous. Why?”
“Well,” he said, stroking a hand down her arm, “contrary to what you think, I cannot maintain my life just as it’s always been. Nor would I wish to. If you were hoping for the sort of husband who will merely say hello in the breakfast room and only occasionally come to your bed, you are to be sorely disappointed.”
“No, of course not,” Caro responded, unable to stop the little flip in her stomach at the mention of bed. “I don’t wish us to have that sort of marriage either.”
He looked as if he’d say more, but then he shook his head a little, as if thinking better of it. “Just rest assured that I’m not entirely undaunted by our new situation.”
“I didn’t say that,” she protested, “but—”
“But, yes, agreed. I won’t need to make as many adjustments as you will,” he finished. “That’s evident just in the fact that you’ve had to move your belongings into my home instead of the other way round.”
“I somehow do not think you would be comfortable living under the same roof with my mother.” Caro laughed.
She suspected his shudder was not entirely feigned.
“But,” she argued, stroking a finger down his chest, “there are certain advantages for married ladies.”
She looked up at him through her lashes, watching the way the evening light limned the contours of his nearly too-handsome features. It was almost fantastical to think she was here in a bed at long last with the man who’d first awakened her to the possibilities of passion all those years ago. They’d never tasted it, of course, but her heart whispered, Better late than never.
She raised her hand to trace the curve of his lip with her finger.
His eyes grew heavy with what she instinctively knew was desire. And when she stroked his lip again, he opened his mouth to gently bite her finger.
She’d barely gasped at the contact when he shifted. She went from reclining on his chest to lying on her back with all his muscled hardness braced over her.
“Perhaps you’d better tell me about these advantages.” His voice was husky. He leaned down and kissed her with exquisite slowness.
When he moved away, she took his face in her hands and pulled him back down to her. Just as it had been that night in the carriage, the connection between them was hot as the flame in a gas lamp. She’d never felt anything as delicious as the touch of his tongue. The heat of his body, everywhere he touched, every caress, set off a series of reactions that reverberated from the surface of her skin to deep inside where need was building.
Still kissing her, Val used one hand to keep himself from crushing her with his weight and slipped the other past where her dressing gown gaped open. When his hand cupped the fullness of her breast, Caroline gasped against his mouth.
In between kisses, he said, “If there’s anything I do, any touch you dislike, you have only to tell me and I will stop.”
She could not imagine him doing anything that she wouldn’t enjoy, but she knew that not all men would even bother with such concerns, let alone say them once they were married and had no need for consent according to the law.
Oddly, his words made the gravity of their actions seem even more immediate. “Yes,” she said softly. “I will tell you.”
He gave her one last kiss before he pulled away from her, stood by the side of the bed, and began removing his clothes.
“What are you doing?” Caro shrieked, feeling disappointingly like a shrinking virgin but unable to stifle her surprise. She hastily covered her eyes before he got to his trousers.
“Darling,” he said wryly, “I can keep my trousers on if you wish, but I can assure you it’s much more comfortable if they’re off.”
“I know that,” she said, peeking through her fingers. “I just thought—”
She felt the bed dip with his weight as he climbed back on. Fortunately, they’d turned the bedclothes down earlier, so her modesty was saved when he used them to cover himself.
“There,” he said with a solemnity that sounded suspiciously as if he was trying not to laugh, “your maidenly blushes are saved.”
“I’ve never blushed a day in my life,” Caroline lied. “I’ve had your tongue in my mouth on multiple occasions. I’ve seen the Elgin Marbles many times. In fact, I—”
He cut her off with a kiss and pulled her against him beneath the covers. “You’re blushing right now,” he murmured against her lips. “In fact, let’s see how far down it goes.”