She looked disappointed but said nothing as she walked to the door to open it. “Come in.”
“Ye need yer laudanum,” Robbie said, heading to the bureau to prepare it for him.
“And your unguent,” Tynan said, looking none too pleased as he picked up the pot and a clean washcloth.
Finn and Joshua helped him out of the robe and eased him back against the pillows and under the sheets.
Dahlia was lost amid these men who were attending to him with the precision of a military drill.
The strain of standing for the wedding and then taking the laudanum proved too much. Despite his stubborn struggles, he fell asleep within minutes.
“What time is it?” he asked when he awoke, still groggy from the laudanum and inhaling the putrid scent of the unguent on his chest. He wasn’t even sure anyone was in the room with him. Night had fallen, and the house was quiet. Then he noticed one lonely figure seated in a chair beside the hearth, staring into the golden blaze of flames. “Queen Pea?”
She turned to him. “It’s almost midnight. You slept soundly. I knew this day was too much for you.”
He struggled to a sitting position.
“Ronan, don’t!” She rose and hurried to his side. “You’ll hurt yourself.”
“You’re still dressed. Do you have a nightrail with you?”
She nodded. “Yes. One of those flimsy, silk things. But I wasn’t sure...”
He smiled. “Let me help you out of your gown and into that flimsy garment. However, I intend to have it off you in short order, so you needn’t put it on for my sake.”
“So you think I ought to stay with you tonight?”
“Hell, yes. Where else would you be?” He realized his chest was coated with that slimy substance. “Blast. Perhaps you are better off with Heather. I can’t blame you for not wanting to get near me.”
“It isn’t that. My nose has adjusted to the odor. And it isn’t you who smells bad, it’s just that poultice. I could use your help with these stays and laces.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. “If you’re all right with it.”
He groaned. “I’m more than all right having you in bed with me. If your nose can take it, then hop in.” But he silently cursed his injury as he watched her slip the gown off her body and carefully set it over the chair. She then sat in the chair to take off her shoes and stockings.
He was the one who ought to be doing this for her, who ought to be sliding his hands along her body, holding her and kissing every delectable inch of her.
When she rose to remove her chemise, his breath caught. She stood outlined in the fire’s glow, the fabric so delicately thin, he could see the dark patch at the junction of her thighs and the dark rose tips of her breasts.
He closed his eyes and quietly shuddered, trying to quell his low-brain frenzy.
He knew she’d be beautiful.
Watching her undress was a thing of splendor.
It did not matter that she had moved to hide behind the chair while trying to quickly slip off the chemise and don her equally thin nightrail. It was a skimpy, silken thing that hugged her body and showed more of her nicely endowed chest than it hid.
Whoever designed this garment, knew what they were doing.
Those glimpses of her skin had him excited, he would admit. But it was those parts strategically hidden that had his eyes bulging and his brain working double time. He needed to see what lay beneath.
He’d read about this effect in the book. It wasn’t a matter of curiosity or even urgency. It was a primal urge that sprang from the depths of his soul, the first thing his primal brain sought, and the first thing his eyes went to. Her breasts. The source of life for his offspring.
The source of pleasure and desire for him.
She climbed into bed beside him, slipping under the covers so that the only barrier between them was her soon to be discarded nightrail.
Next, he had to figure out how to pleasure her without sliming her or the bedcovers...or puncturing his lung again. He gave it considerable thought as she wrapped her lovely body against his arm and nestled close.
In truth, he knew just how to accomplish it. However, Dahlia would need some convincing because this was not something one sprang on one’s innocent wife.
Although she was not shy about assuming her wifely duties, this one was too much to ask of her this first time out.
She was not going to hop atop him and start dancing with abandon on his private parts.
He lay in the dark for a while longer before finally turning to her. “Queen Pea...”
She gave a little snuffle in response, then her breaths became smooth and even.
He glanced up at the ceiling and quietly groaned.
She had fallen asleep.
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her soft palm. “I love you,” he whispered and fell back to sleep himself.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Ronan had dutifully remained in bed, following Dr. Farthingale’s instructions to the letter for the past week, which meant he had not been allowed to return to his parliamentary duties on Monday or any other day, and he had not yet claimed Dahlia properly as his wife. Today, he was going to take care of these two important matters.
The first was to attend the Parliament session on the navy budget vote. The Lord Admiral had done his best to retain the support previously secured, but Ronan had been the linchpin during these negotiations and knew his absence had hurt their position. He needed to be there today to herd these lords back in the proper direction.
The second important matter was to finally consummate his marriage to Dahlia. Nothing was going to stop him from this undertaking. No revolting unguent. No raw, aching bones.
Not even doctor’s orders.
He was going to bed his wife tonight and had no intention of shirking that duty.
He had just stepped out of the tub and wrapped a towel around his waist when Dahlia came in. “Oh, my heavens.” Her eyes rounded, and she gaped at him.
“Is something wrong, Queen Pea?”
She laughed. “Other than my rattled brain? I thought you’d be dressed by now. But my goodness, I’m glad you’re not. I am very much enjoying the sight of you.”
He shook his head in dismay. “I’m moving a little slow this morning. It’s to be my first day outside of this bedchamber.”
“Let me help you, my love. Joshua’s carriage is already out front. He’s eager to be on his way. Yours is not the only budget the House of Lords will be voting on.”
“It will take me only a minute to dress.”
“Nonsense. It will take you an hour at the speed you are moving.” She teasingly sighed. “It is a tragic shame to cover up that splendid body of yours. The sacrifices a wife must make for her country.”
They were still in Joshua’s home since Dr. Farthingale had admonished them not to move him yet. But this forced idleness had done wonders for him. The burning in his chest had subsided. His ribs ached only the littlest bit. His head no longer felt as though elephants were stomping on it, and his eyes no longer blurred whenever he turned too quickly.
As soon as he was dressed and had donned his boots, he pulled Dahlia onto his lap. “You look beautiful, Queen Pea.” He kissed her tenderly, his lips seeking hers as he drew her body against his, always loving the way she felt against him and the cinnamon scent of her skin.