But as a woman who’d never experienced passion until she’d met him, who’d not known the meaning of having her senses stirred by a man until her body quivered with need, who’d no idea what it was like to engage in lovemaking with a partner who showed her respect and who cared for her pleasure as much as she cared for his, she’d no idea what to say.
And yet, she knew she had to act quickly if she was to make him believe she was every bit as bold and seductive as the woman she pretended to be. Driven by instinct, she placed her hand over his and closed the distance between them until their lips met. Before she could fully appreciate the ramifications of her actions, a strong arm swept around her and pulled her onto the opposite bench.
She gasped in response, allowing him to deepen the kiss in a way she would never have thought herself capable of enjoying. Only one other man had ever had his mouth on hers before, and it had been far from pleasant. His tongue had forced its way inside while frantic hands ripped at her bodice and hitched up her skirts. By contrast, this was exciting in a way she’d not believed possible until now. Somehow, in the fervent craving of this kiss and the heat of his touch, Mr. Dale managed to make her feel beautiful, wanted, and desired, rather than weak and used. Perhaps because she wanted him in equal measure? No, it was more than that. It was because she knew he would stop if she asked him to, and that made a world of difference.
His hands held her steady while the carriage raced onward, keeping pace with the beats of her heart. A satisfied groan rumbled through him, vibrating from his body straight into hers. She gripped his shoulders to steady herself against the storm he produced within her. This experience was unlike any she’d had before and far more wonderful than she would ever have thought it could be. Frankly, she did not want it to end. Instead, she wanted more.
“We probably shouldn’t be doing this,” Mr. Dale murmured while pressing her closer. His mouth roamed over her cheek before scorching a path down the side of her neck. “I’m sure it’s a very bad idea, but I can’t seem to stop.”
She angled her head to welcome each kiss, then gasped when his teeth scraped her skin. The effect was like a thunderbolt to her nerves. Every part of her body hummed as her bodice drew taught across her breasts. “Then don’t.”
Instead of progressing, he leaned back, adding distance and leaving a chill in his stead. His hand rose to her cheek, his fingers gently stroking her there while his eyes held hers. “As much as I’d like to heed your command, we probably should.”
Wilhelmina gazed at him in bewilderment. She wasn’t used to this sort of thing and didn’t quite understand what had happened or why he no longer wished to continue. “I’m not some innocent debutante, Mr. Dale. Quite the contrary.”
“Nevertheless.” He took her hand in his, pushed the glove back enough to expose her wrist, and then raised it to his lips for a reverent kiss.
Unsure of what it all meant, she shook her head and withdrew to the opposite bench where she straightened her skirts and attempted to gather her frayed composure. “I do not comprehend you, Mr. Dale. Indeed, you confuse me beyond compare.”
“No more than you confuse me, Mrs. Lawson. I assure you.”
She knit her brow and glanced at him. Reclining against his corner, arms crossed and legs stretched out at an angle, he wore the expression of someone attempting to make a tough calculation. Deciding it might be best if she gave her attention elsewhere, she turned to the view of wide open Lincolnshire fields and meadows preceding the hillier landscape they’d find farther north.
James’ mind and body were both in turmoil. He’d not intended to kiss her, but then again, he hadn’t. Mrs. Lawson had been the initiator. She had kissed him, and in so doing, she’d unwittingly shown him her hand. Because one thing was now abundantly clear. Either her husband and her lovers had been deplorable tutors in the art of seduction, or she was as untried as a virgin.
Neither possibility made an ounce of sense. She was a mother after all, so even if she and her husband had grown estranged over the years, she had some experience. Even Clara had learned how to kiss well before she’d gone off to another man’s bed. It didn’t take extensive practice, but what he’d just enjoyed with Mrs. Lawson suggested a confounding degree of ignorance on her part. Indeed, it was as if she’d never been kissed before.
Not that he minded this in the least. The possibility she wasn’t nearly as worldly as she wanted people to think only increased his desire for her. It was also what caused him to stop. With everything else he’d learned about her in recent days taken into account, he knew he had to give serious thought to his assumptions before he made a mistake and treated her like the wanton he’d once believed her to be.
But if she wasn’t guilty of multiple counts of adultery, why on earth had she not protested the charges? Why hadn’t she tried to fight her husband’s accusations? Could it be because she’d not thought she had a chance of winning?
No. She’d actively gone along with his claims and continued to do so even now. James was still trying to make sense of this when the carriage drew to a halt. He opened the door and stepped down, then offered Mrs. Lawson his hand to help her alight. It seemed unfathomable to him that a woman her age, who’d been married and given birth, would be as innocent as she appeared to be.
She did not meet his gaze as he handed her down, prompting him to make an attempt at expelling the awkwardness brewing between them. “I hope you will join me for dinner again this evening.”
Accepting his arm, she gave a stiff nod. “Of course.”
Relieved, James grabbed their bags and led her inside while his coachman saw to the horses. “We’ll inquire after our children first, then see about booking rooms.” Thankfully, the innkeeper at this establishment, a Mr. Sellers, was an older fellow who looked to be in his seventies. Best of all, he was married to a pleasant woman for whom he had nothing but smiles and warm glances. Not once did he show an indecent interest in his Mrs. Lawson.
James stopped himself and shook his head. She wasn’t his. Not by a long shot.
“I wonder if you’ve seen a young couple come through here earlier today,” James inquired of the inn-keeper.
“The woman is blonde and roughly this tall,” Wilhelmina said while holding her hand an inch above her own head.
“The man she’s with has dark brown hair,” James added. “They may have gone by the name of Dale.”
“Hmm…” Mr. Sellers scratched his head. “I saw two young couples who fit that description. One spent the night and left this morning. The other stopped by around four, to swap out their ’orses. One pair came by buggy, the other was ridin’ which was somethin’ of a sight with the lady sittin’ astride, but neither went by Dale.”
“How about Lawson, Petersen, or Hewitt?” Mrs. Lawson asked.
“None of those names rings a bell. The couple who spent the night went by Ross, but I did over ’ear the other lady callin’ the gent she was with Michael, if that’s any ’elp.”
“It is,” James said. Apparently they’d assumed a false surname. “Thank you very much.”
“We’re still far behind them,” Mrs. Lawson said as she climbed the stairs moments later with James close behind her. “I worry we’ll never catch up.”