His speech seemed to have evaded his ability. His body tightened as it always did when Molly was about. He tensed, longed, and ached to hear her voice, to feel her touch.
When had he fallen so very hard for his wife?
A small smile lifted his lips, knowing the answer to that question. The moment she had seen Rome from his upstairs balcony the first time. The memory of it now sent a pang of longing to ripple through him so hard he had to force himself to breathe. Her long, silken locks flowing over her finely boned shoulders, her mouth open in awe of the city beneath her. He'd fought the urge to kiss her plump lips then and there and should have known she would mean change was coming to his life.
A change well overdue and most welcome.
"Hugh." His name was a rushed whisper as if she were relieved to find him here. He devoured the sight of her, the rounded belly of his child that grew in her womb. Her long legs and heaving breasts from her sprint upstairs. Hell, he'd missed her. He should have dragged her back to London and told everyone to go to the devil with their rumor-mongering. He loved his wife, and she ought to be with him.
And now she was here. But why?
"What are you doing in London?" The question came out as a croak, and he cleared his throat, watching as she took the steps that separated them, coming to stand beside the bed. Unable to help himself, he sat up, twisting to perch at the edge of the bed. She was so close, under an arm’s touch from him. Hugh reached out and cradled her stomach, hating that he'd missed even a month of being with her.
She stared down at him, her eyes round with concern. Her hands shook at her sides, and he clasped them in his. "Tell me, my love?"
Molly slumped at his words, sitting beside him and pulling him into an embrace. She held him tight as if she never wished to let him go. He would never allow her to go anywhere from him again, that was for certain, if she let him.
"I was wrong. I judged you unfairly, and I'm so sorry, Hugh. My aunt found Laura's diary, and as you said, Henry was her lover, the father of her child."
This was no news to Hugh. Of course Henry was the father, proving that point was difficult, however, when there was no proof and his family had lied to persuade others that he was guilty of the crime. "Of course, he was, my love, but I am glad that you're finally on my side on the matter."
She pulled back, her lashes wet with tears, and his heart lurched in his chest. He wiped her cheeks, hating to see her upset. "I do not blame you, Molly. No one believes me, nor will they unless your cousin's diary is published, and I would never do that to your family."
"However will we clear your name in the eyes of society? They need to know the truth. Blame your brother, not you. It is unfair for them to treat you as they will, as I have. I'm so sorry, Hugh. I understand if you can never forgive me. I cannot forgive myself."
He pushed her wayward locks from her face, needing to see her clearly. "I was angry and upset, but I could also understand, my love. Laura was your cousin, and you thought her tarnished by my hand. Without proof, even I would struggle to believe you should you have been the villain."
She sniffed, meeting his gaze. "No, you would not. You said yourself that you would believe me before anyone else, and I did not offer you the same trust."
He shrugged, knowing it would be harder for a woman to believe a man than a man to believe a woman. "It does not matter now, my love. That you're here is all I want."
"I love you, Hugh. I should have believed you and no one else. I'm sorry that I did not come sooner. Not until I knew the truth."
He frowned, reaching behind her and playing with the ties of her dress. "Were you thinking of coming back to me? Before you knew the truth?"
She nodded, her hands untying his cravat. "I was. I missed you so very much. Even with the company of your sister, I was lonely. What you were accused of, I could not get out of my mind, and the more I thought upon it, the more I realized it was not true. That I trusted you enough to believe your word over that of others. People that I did not even know. I had all but decided to return to town when my aunt arrived."
He would kiss Molly's aunt the next time he saw the woman. Thank her profusely that she'd continued her search for the elusive diary. "Whether you came to your decision on your own merit or because of your aunt's visit, know that I'm happy that you're here. I've missed you so much."
Hugh could wait no longer, and he kissed her, clasped her cheeks, and drank deep from her lips. Her mouth opened, their tongues melding. His heart beat hard in his chest, a resounding drum he was sure she could hear.
"You taste of spirits." Molly pulled his shirt free from his breeches before ripping it off over his head, throwing it aside. "You're not a little foxed by any chance, are you, Your Grace?"
"I'm drunk with happiness." He grinned, groaning as her hand slipped against his falls, and she popped his buttons free. Hugh closed his eyes, sucking in a breath as her touch clasped his cock, stroking him with an expertise that left him aching.
"I've missed you so much. All of you." She kissed him, pushing him to lie back on his bed before straddling his hips.
"Your clothes. Remove them."
She shuffled off his lap, and he took the opportunity to move farther onto the bed. He lay back, his arms behind his head, watching her through hooded eyes as she slipped the gown off her shoulders to pool at her slippered feet. Her shift was all but translucent, and his cock hardened further at the sight of her. In the moonlight, her eyes blazed with need, and he took a calming breath, wanting to pleasure her before seeking his own release.
With a wicked smirk, she slowly untied the laces at the front of her shift. The material gaped, giving him a delightful view of her ample breasts. She pushed the shift off her shoulders, and it too landed with a swoosh on the floor.
She kneeled on the bed, crawling over to straddle his groin. "I want you so much." The siren that his wife was turning into… She slid against his cock, her heat, the wetness that coated him told him she needed him as much as he wanted her.
So deliciously hot. He wanted to roll her over, fuck her until he no longer knew where he started and she ended, but he could not. After the child was born, there would be plenty of time for that. Tonight would be different. He'd allow her to take him, use him to find release and then, and only then, would he come.
Hugh reached up, circling her breasts with his hands. She sighed, her nipples pebbling into tight knots. He sat up, pulling her against him and covered one nipple with his mouth. He flicked the beaded flesh with his tongue, giving it a love bite or two before soothing it yet again with his mouth.
Her breathing ragged, she reached between them, taking him in hand. His cock twitched at the feel of her hot, welcoming core. She lowered herself onto him, wrapping her arms about his neck as she embedded herself fully.
"Oh, yes," she sighed.
The urge to take her and make her his again rode hard within him, but he breathed deep, let his beautiful wife set her own pace, and find her pleasure and release. He held her tight against him, helping her undulate upon him. She was such a perfect fit, breathy moans, and sighs all the stimulation he needed to remain patient and wait.
His turn would come.
* * *
Molly pushed Hugh back onto the bedding, holding his shoulders as she rocked up and down on his cock. So hard and fulfilling. Teasing that special little place within her that craved and mourned the loss of him all these weeks.