“Upon my word, I do believe he is about to kiss her.”
“Here?”
Laughter bubbled inside Adel at the voices rising in the room. “I fear we will be in the scandal sheets tomorrow.”
Amusement glittered in his eyes. “I agree.”
Then he kissed her.
Chapter Twenty
A nightmare he had not had in months released its insidious clasp slowly as Edmond woke. The memories were as intolerable as ever, and with icy talons meant to rip and sunder, they seethed within like a devouring monster, stealing his peace.
In a week’s time it will be the anniversary of Maryann’s death…
Edmond, please save me…save us.
This is entirely your fault… The pained accusation had gutted him.
I wanted to give you an heir…not my life!
Maryann had been ravaged with pain and fear and had hurled the harsh words like a scythe, cleaving him in two. She’d had the presence of mind to even try to soothe him, apologizing, and saying she had not meant it. But he knew the truth, honesty was always more bald and forthright in moments of desperation.
They had both been desperate—and she had been right with every skin flaying accusation. He had failed her by not realizing something had been wrong. Sarah’s birth had been difficult and it had taken Maryann weeks to recover. Why had he not been more careful, more assessing, more concerned whenever she paled when he mentioned an heir. There were days he had touched her and she had been stiff, more unresponsive than sensual. She had pleaded melancholy, and he had kept himself from going to her bed for more than a year. It mattered not that Maryann had not gotten pregnant again, until two years after Sarah’s birth, he should have noticed the change in her spirits whenever he or his mother discussed an heir.
The blood on the mattress.
The bitter scent as they burned it and all the soaked linens and washrags.
If Maryann had told him the doctor’s concern he would never have pressed for an heir.
There was a soft sigh behind him, and he shifted to look at his new duchess. He had taken her several times last night, careful to never release inside of her.
Adel stirred, her lashes lifted, and as simple as that, he wanted to drown himself inside of her kisses, her laughter, her body. It disturbed Edmond that he had never felt such an intensity of feeling with Maryann. He had loved her, he had been certain, but the emotions had always been tempered with gentleness and an awareness of her demure nature. Even how he had made love with her had been different.
Last night he had turned Adel onto her stomach, and had crawled over her, stuffed a cushion underneath her and rode her for what seemed like hours. They had frolicked in the massive bathtub, and he had even taken her there, then against the wall. Hell. Adel made him feel raw, desperate, and he made no effort to hold back his passion, or be mindful of her sensibilities. With Maryann, they had always been under the covers, and the one time he had thought to seduce her in the library, she had been beyond mortified. Yet their union had always been sweet and wonderful.
“What has you frowning so?” Adel asked her voice husky with sleep…and desire.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, certain she would push him from the bed if he admitted he was comparing her with his deceased wife, and worse, coming to the more alarming conclusion that Adel made him feel with more intensity. Which placed him on dangerous grounds because if he lost her… The thought wasn’t even to be contemplated. Had he been certain he had expelled each time outside of her body? His heart lurched. They had reached for each other so many times during the long night.
He tugged the coverlets from her body.
“Edmond, what are you doing? It is cold!”
He clasped her hips and drew her across the silken sheets to him. She gasped when he nudged her legs apart with one of his feet and placed his fingers against her core.
Her entire body blushed. “Edmond!”
“I am amazed you are still capable of blushing, Duchess.”
She scowled up at him.
He stroked a finger deep inside of her…and only felt her heat and wetness. No, he had not released his seed in her.
“What are you doing?” she hissed, narrowing her eyes, slapping his arm away.
“I am ensuring I did not release inside of you.”
Awareness dawned in her eyes and she lowered her lids, but he saw the spark of anger.
“Look at me.”
Her lips flattened mutinously.
“Duchess.”
Anger brought beguiling color to her cheeks. She shoved him, and tried to scuttle away, and he tugged her back with more force than he’d intended.
“Oomph” slipped from her as she collided into the wall of his chest.
Immediately his fingers were bathed in liquid heat.