“Nathan had discovered that Erasmus was already married. In fact, he was a bigamist, with three poor wives who did not know the existence of each other.”
Grantham’s eyes went wide and he staggered back, the shock so clear on his face that she nearly laughed. At least she had moved him. Only she couldn’t laugh because the memory was too sharp.
“I fear my expression when he told me was much the same as your own,” she said softly. “I was horrified. Everything I had experienced and heard was a lie. All my future hopes and dreams were dashed.”
“My God, Ophelia,” Grantham said at last. “I cannot imagine how you felt. I’m so very sorry.”
She blinked. “You—you don’t judge me?”
“How could anyone? You were the victim of this bastard’s schemes, as were his other wives. What happened?”
“Nathan sent me away immediately. I was just as happy to go, my humiliation was so complete. I went back to the country and tried to grieve the future that would never be. To understand how I had been such a fool.”
“And what happened to his Montgomery fellow? I assume your brother called him out?”
“He was murdered shortly after my brother uncovered the truth,” she whispered. “It was a scandal of all scandals years ago. The entire truth of his wives came out, though Nathan protected my name. There was an investigation into the murder. Nathan was even a suspect briefly, as were all the wives.”
“Did they determine who did it?” Grantham asked.
She nodded. “Yet another woman who had been ensnared by him. The whole thing was covered up, as one does in Society. It’s hardly ever spoken of now, except in the occasional whisper.”
“What about the wives?” he asked.
She smiled, for their tales were public knowledge, so she was telling no secrets when she revealed their outcomes. “One married the investigator hired to solve the crime. One married Erasmus’s brother.”
Grantham’s eyebrows lifted. “Truly?”
“They are deliriously happy with two children.” She smiled as she thought of them. “As for the last, she…married my brother.”
Grantham stared at her. “The Duchess of Gilmore?”
She nodded. “Abigail was the only legal wife and she accepted all of us so kindly when everything came out. We are all friends, a sisterhood created by one man’s cruelty, his lies. Luckily there were happy outcomes for all involved. And I adore Abigail, as does my brother.”
“That is a remarkable story,” Grantham said slowly.
“It is,” she agreed. “I was spared the social consequences thanks to my brother’s protection. I repaid that by sparing him the whole truth. I told Priscilla that I surrendered my innocence to Montgomery, but no one else knows. Except you, I suppose.”
She opened her mouth to say the rest but then closed it. There were some secrets no one knew. Even Priscilla. And he didn’t need to know them either.
“You did nothing wrong,” he said softly, bringing her back to him. “You were taken advantage of by a charlatan.”
“And yet I will be seen as damaged if the truth comes out. As you said, our societies view this issue far differently.” She sighed. “I will admit that it is why I have avoided marriage so studiously. I could never keep such a secret from someone I planned to marry, especially given the high value given to virginity. I haven’t met anyone who wouldn’t count this fact against me. So I dance and I laugh and I refuse all proposals and interest.”
“What do the duke and duchess say about that?”
She shrugged. “Luckily my brother has never been the kind of man who would force my hand. If I do not marry, I will become an eccentric spintster, I think. With money and independence.” She forced a smile. “Not the worst fate.”
“I suppose not,” he agreed, and moved toward her. She shivered as he took her hand, drew her closer. “I am sorry you endured this, Ophelia.”
For a moment the emotions she usually kept at bay when she thought of her history washed over her. Overwhelmed her, and her eyes stung with tears. “I was a fool. And what happened changed me.”
He nodded. “As would any affair we embarked on. I would not want to say otherwise and be just as unfeeling as Montgomery.”
She frowned. “If you ever compare yourself to Erasmus Montgomery again, I shall call you out for pistols at dawn.”
He laughed and the room seemed to lighten with the sound. “I would never think you would defend me so strenuously. You do not like me.”
She pursed her lips. “I am endlessly frustrated by you, Your Majesty, as you are by me. But I would never compare you to that vicious, cruel bastard. And you are wrong that I would be changed by an affair we participated in. The circumstances are entirely different.”
His brow knitted briefly, and she thought she saw a flash of regret in his eyes. But then it was gone. “I suppose we will both fully understand the limitations.”
She nodded. “Exactly. And you would be careful, wouldn’t you?” He tilted his head as if he didn’t fully understand. She blushed. “A child. You would be careful not to create a child.”
There must have been something in her tone that revealed her pure terror at that thought. His expression softened. “I would be very careful, Ophelia.”
She sagged in relief. “Then my eyes are open, Grantham. I have no expectation of a future with you and know you do not desire that either. This would be an arrangement purely for pleasure.” She hesitated. “Wouldn’t it?”
She didn’t know why she held her breath as she awaited his answer. Or why her heart sank the tiniest bit when he nodded.
“Yes.” His voice was rough. “I would very much like to give you pleasure, Ophelia. So much pleasure.”
“And I would like the same,” she said with a smile, and edged a little closer to him.
She stared up into those dark eyes, the ones that dilated when she let her hand settle on his chest. She could feel the throbbing beat of his heart, the heat of him through his jacket. She wanted that heat so desperately. She wanted to forget all the rest, both the past and the future.
“Now,” she murmured, then lifted on her tiptoes and kissed him again.
CHAPTER 12
The entire room faded away as Ophelia traced the tip of her tongue over Grantham’s lips. A soft entreaty, a quiet demand. One he couldn’t deny, didn’t want to deny anymore. This was happening, and now that the decision had been made, he surrendered himself fully to it and to her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted into him, the kiss deepening. God, she tasted like the headiest wine and he would be drunk on her and love every moment of it. Only he couldn’t lose all his inhibitions. After the story she’d just told, he needed to be careful. Chivalrous.
She deserved that kind of tender care.
He tugged her closer, letting her body mold to his, and reveled in the soft, shaky sigh that she exhaled against his mouth. He could have kissed her for hours. In fact, he lost track of time as he did so, savoring every hitch of her breath, every sweep of their tongues. By the time he drew back to look into her eyes, he was panting, rock hard, and his hands shook with desire. She smiled up at him, wicked and knowing.