A Prudent Match Page 10

  Ledbetter looked uncomfortable, but he managed to continue nonetheless. “It's like . . . oh, I don't know . . . like waltzing, I suppose. You could be stiff and wooden in someone's arms, or you could be floating, twirling, enjoying the exhilaration of the music and the synchronicity of movement together. For a waltz to be enjoyable, both parties must enter into the spirit of the dance.”

  He held out a hand to her. “Come, pretend there is music, a gallery of musicians are playing a waltz and you have agreed to stand up with me. The room is filled with spring flowers and the chandeliers are blazing with elegant wax candles.”

  She hesitated for a long moment and then moved toward him. He clasped her in his arms as on a dance floor, though he held her more closely than he would have in public. His hand felt warm and strong at her waist. He gazed into her eyes and started to hum a familiar waltz. And then they were moving around the floor of the drawing room, skirting furniture as they might have other couples.

  At first she felt self-conscious and a little stiff, but he was a remarkably fine dancer and she allowed herself to move with him. He drew her even closer to him, so that their bodies touched. Prudence had never danced quite this way before. She felt the gracefulness of their movements, the excitement of their perfectly attuned turns. She felt one with him.

  He danced her into the dark Long Gallery beyond the drawing room, where there was little to hinder their progress. Though she was scarcely familiar with the room, he apparently knew it by heart. She caught glimpses of portraits on the walls as they swung by. He tucked their hands against his cheek and kissed her fingers, even as he guided her expertly about the polished wooden floor. He held her in such a way that she felt fragile and protected and altogether cherished. Dazed, she tried to see his expression in the darkness, but could only detect the gleam of his eyes.

  After a very long time, when she was pleasantly dizzy and breathless, he slowed to a stop, but continued to hold her firmly against him. Prudence could feel the beating of his heart. She knew that hers was as rapid from the splendid exercise. She didn't want him to let go of her, and for a long time they remained locked in each other's arms. His breath whispered in her hair and she thought perhaps his lips brushed her temple.

  Dancing had never felt like that before. Oh, she had enjoyed the country dances well enough with all their spirited fun, but she had learned to waltz in a formal way that scarcely captured the elegance and intimacy of what they had just accomplished. Her body had felt as lithe and elegant as a bird in flight. And now, pressed against his, it felt lush with possibility.

  “Did you enjoy that, Prudence?” he asked softly.

  “Very much.”

  “Do you want me to release you?”

  “No.”

  “Good.”

  Certainly his lips brushed her forehead now. And then they skimmed over her face, descending to her lips. His kiss was warm and gentle. But for all that she could feel it tug at her. She returned the pressure and felt her body respond even more strongly.

  And his body changed as well. Prudence could feel him harden against her and a flare of panic raced through her, making her shudder slightly. Ledbetter deepened his kiss, allowing her to feel the edge of his desire. But he remained unhurried, his hands lightly stroking her back.

  Prudence realized that the sensations in her body were becoming stronger. Her breasts, pressed against his chest, seemed to tingle. The tug at her core felt more like a yearning than like the bout of nerves she'd feared. Ledbetter's hands, rhythmic and soothing on her back, moved slightly lower. They spanned her waist and held her firmly against him. That hard bulge in his pants pressed against her lower abdomen, and instead of being frightened she felt a surprising warmth and need.

  His hands moved lower now, slowly tracing the firmness of her buttocks. She had never been touched like this before—and she didn't want him to stop. When his hands cupped her bottom and pressed her lightly against his hardness, she felt a rush of almost giddy urgency. Her pulse beat in her throat. Her hands grasped at his shoulders. She felt his tongue enter her mouth.

  She was startled by that. And not certain that she wanted it there. Until he began to explore the recesses of her mouth, to glide his tongue along her own, to move it back and forth in a suggestive way, as though . . . Prudence felt the tension in her body increase once again and she sighed.

  Ledbetter continued to hold her tightly against his body but he lifted his head slightly and looked into her eyes. “Does that distress you, Prudence?”

  “Mmmm, no.”

  “Do you mind my holding you so . . . closely?”

  “No. Well, it's making my body behave a little strangely.”

  “But not in a way you dislike,” he suggested.

  “No, not in a way I dislike,” she admitted.

  He shifted his hands back to her waist, and then began to move them upward. “Shall I show you something which might give you a great deal of pleasure?”

  She hesitated before nodding. His hands continued to move up until they were almost at her breasts. And then, very slowly, very carefully, he traced small circles which got broader and broader. At first they were entirely at her sides, but gradually they moved further onto her breasts. The breath caught in her throat and she could scarcely bear the anticipation. His thumbs rubbed gently across the soft curves as he continued to stare into her eyes.

  “Does that feel good, Prudence?” he asked.

  She had to swallow before she could answer him. “Yes, very good.”

  His thumbs had reached the apex of her breasts, and he rubbed them over the place where her nipples were. “Oh,” she gasped. “Oh, dear.”

  She could feel her nipples harden, and her face flush. She was unable to meet his gaze.

  “Come, look at me,” he urged. “That's what is supposed to happen, my dear. It's a very natural reaction. As is my own.”

  Prudence knew that he referred to the hard bulge in his pants which she could feel pressing against her groin. She met his eyes and nodded. “I see,” she said.

  He cupped her breasts in his hands, continuing to stimulate the hardened nipples. “How does that feel?”

  “I . . . It feels wonderful.”

  Ledbetter smiled at her. “Thank God for your honesty, Prudence. I dare say you would prefer not to admit that.”

  “Yes, for I am still alarmed by the thought of intimate relations.”

  “An hour ago you urged me to consummate our marriage. I would prefer not to do that until you have a better understanding of the possibilities of pleasure between a husband and wife. And frankly, for one so naive, that won't happen in a day. Shall you mind so very much?” he asked, a teasing note to his voice.

  “You are very patient.”

  “My dear girl, no one has ever accused me of patience before. Let us just say that I am attempting to take the long view of the situation, shall we?”

  “Thank you, William. It is very considerate of you.”

  “No doubt.” He gave her one last, brief kiss and released her. “It's late. You must be longing for your bed.”

  “And do you intend to share my bed tonight?”

  “I do.” He frowned slightly. “I trust you won't object.”

  Prudence stood on tiptoe and bravely kissed him. “No, my lord, I won't object.”

  * * *

  Chapter 11

  Ledbetter was not accustomed to these delays in gratification of his desires. On the other hand, he did not consider himself such a monster as to force himself on his wife simply because they had repeated marriage vows and he could by rights do so.

  If truth be told, he was a little intrigued by how very naive his wife was. It told him that she had not experienced any of these physical pleasures with her longtime fiancé. Of course, that dunderhead had wandered off to India and remained there, giving absolutely no opportunity for even the most mundane contact with his bride-to-be.

  And knowing that his own engagement would last for precisely a wee
k, Ledbetter had not attempted any familiarities with Prudence at her home. But her brazen sisters had led him to the false assumption that his betrothed was a trifle more knowledgeable than she proved to be. No matter. He preferred her innocence.

  As the baron prepared for bed, he caught sight of an organ catalog on his bookshelf. How amused his wife had been to hear of the absurd gift his mother had made to the parish. Prudence, it seemed, was destined to surprise him in more ways than he could have anticipated. And while some of those surprises had been initially irritating, more often they were turning out to be enchanting.

  Ledbetter stripped off his drawers and wrapped the maroon dressing gown his valet had left out around his body. He didn't bother with the slippers tucked carefully partway under the bed, but walked across the chilly floor to the door as he tied the velvet sash at his waist. Despite the fact that he hadn't given his wife much time to change into her nightclothes, he let himself out into the hall and walked across to knock at her door.

  She was still seated at the vanity when he came into the bedroom, but the maid had already left. Prudence had a brush in her hand and she was pulling it through her wild masses of auburn hair. “It's all your fault,” she complained ruefully. “When I leave it loose it gets tangled.”

  “Let me.” He took the brush from her fingers and set himself to stroking it through her hair in an easy, unhurried way. “You have the most glorious hair,” he told her. “It looked wonderful today. I don't see why you want to pin it down.”

  “Because then I look like a respectable woman?” she suggested.

  “Oh, I don't think anyone would take you for anything but a respectable woman.” He set the brush on the vanity and wove his fingers through her hair, all the while watching her in the mirror. “You're the type of woman who could be found alone with the vicar in his bedchamber and people would still not believe the worst of you.”

  “I'm not sure I find that a flattering encomium, William. I think perhaps you're telling me that I'm a prude and an antidote.”

  “I trust you know better than that, my dear. Your naivete has nothing to do with prudishness, and your beauty is self-evident.”

  Prudence flushed under his steady gaze. “Thank you. I didn't mean to solicit a compliment.”

  “No, of course you didn't.”

  He was standing behind her, so that her image blocked almost his entire torso from view in the glass. “Have you ever seen a man naked?” he asked.

  Prudence instantly looked alarmed but merely shook her head.

  Ledbetter laughed. “And you don't want to. Come, where's your curiosity, ma'am?”

  “Where's your modesty?” she asked tartly.

  “Ah, there is something you probably don't realize, my dear. Most men haven't a modest bone in their bodies. There's not a one of us who wouldn't quite happily walk around naked all day, given the proper circumstances.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Well, it's true.” Ledbetter unfastened the sash at his waist and allowed the dressing gown to fall open, but he was still behind her, so she had no real view of him in the mirror. “Shall I get in bed first?” he suggested.

  “If you would.”

  He laughed, but turned aside and finished removing the dressing gown beside the bed. His wife remained seated at the vanity while he placed the maroon velvet robe over a chair back and climbed into bed. He could not tell if she peeked at him in the mirror or in person, but when he had settled, he patted the bed beside him and said, “Come, it's safe now.”

  “Safe,” his bride muttered, rising from the bench before the mirror. “You don't know the meaning of the word.”

  She was enveloped in a delightful white cotton confection which covered her from her neck to her toes, but which formed itself rather nicely to her bosom. Prudence did not seem to be particularly aware of this, probably believing that if the gown covered everything right down to her fingertips, it could not possibly be provocative. But it was—to Ledbetter. He groaned.

  His bride cocked her head at him and frowned. “What is it? Are you not well, my lord?”

  “I'm fine, Prudence. Come to bed.”

  She snuffed the candle on the vanity and in the darkness he could hear her light tread across the carpet. When she reached the side of the bed, she hesitated and said, “You'll have to move over a little, William.”

  “Of course, my dear.” He shifted, though only a very little distance. She gave a tsk of annoyance, but he held firm. “There's plenty of room for you.”

  “You obviously have a distorted idea of my size,” she said, as she climbed onto the high bed.

  “No, I just want to snuggle against you.”

  “That's not really a good idea,” she protested, as she slipped onto the bed and could not avoid pressing her back right up against him.

  “Oh, I think it is.” He encircled her with his arm, not surprised to find her own arms folded tightly across her chest. “Can you trust me enough to relax?”

  For a while there was no response. Then he felt her body lose some of its stiffness, though her arms remained where they were. He wrapped his naked body around her, gently cradling her in his arms. “It's tomorrow that your new maid comes, is it not?” he asked.

  “Why, yes. Her father is to bring her in the morning. You're not still angry with me about that, are you?”

  “Was I angry? More surprised, I think. And perhaps a bit disconcerted. I had pictured Mrs. Collins finding someone for you. But it scarcely matters, Prudence. I trust she’ll work out well.”

  “I think she will. She seems quite a clever girl, and not easily intimidated.”

  “Ah. An important attribute, not being intimidated. I'm delighted that you possess it, Prudence.”

  “You mock me, William.”

  “Not at all.”

  “I cannot think it would be very comfortable, having a husband who intimidated one.”

  “No, I daresay it wouldn't. And yet, do you know, I think my mother was intimidated by my father. At least by his—blustering, was what my friend Geoffrey called it. He would get quite red in the face and yell as though everyone around him was deaf as a post.”

  “Your poor mother! Did he . . . did he strike out?”

  “Good Lord, no. But his roar was enough to make Mama shudder.” Ledbetter stroked a thumb along her arm. “I know I suffer from the same kind of impatience, Prudence, and I'm sorry for it. But I try very hard never to raise my voice, and if I should ever do so, you have only to call upon my father's name to remind me of how devastating a habit it can be.”

  He felt her tremble in his arms. “I'm sorry. Have I frightened you? I meant to do the opposite.”

  “No,” she said in a strangled voice. “You haven't frightened me.”

  He kissed the back of her head. “Good. I want you to learn to feel comfortable with me.”

  He felt a sigh, or perhaps it was a sob, wrack her body. “You must think me such a fool, William,” she whispered. “So stupidly childish.”

  “Nonsense.” He tightened his arms protectively around her. “Two weeks ago you scarcely knew who I was, Prudence. And now I'm in your bed. I understand that you need some time to adjust. Don't distress yourself about it. Go to sleep. You must be exhausted.”

  He felt her head nod against his lips, and he kissed her hair again. And wondered where this reserve of patience came from, since he was so unfamiliar with it. But before he could delve deeply into the thought, he had fallen asleep himself.

  * * * *

  Prudence was awakened by the careful movements of her husband as he climbed from their bed. She kept her eyes shut tight as he pulled the coverlet up to her neck and placed a soft kiss on her brow. When she felt certain he had turned away from the bed, she opened her eyes just a slit. He was picking up his dressing gown from the chair and she had a full view of his back side.

  He looked almost larger naked than he did in his clothes. From this angle she could see that his shoulders were bro
ad, his waist narrow and his legs strong. As he slipped into the dressing gown, his body turned and she found herself observing his male parts. She swallowed hard as she remembered that once in the night his member had hardened against her and she'd heard him mutter a plaintive oath. He had rolled away from her, then, and she'd fallen back to sleep. But later she had found herself once again in his arms.

  She closed her eyes again and feigned sleep as her husband left the room. Ledbetter was not completely correct in his statement that she had scarcely known him until two weeks ago. She remembered him, as he had apparently remembered her, from her coming-out Season. Else why would he have come to her recently? True, she had inherited a deal of money, and for some reason he seemed to need to have that money at his disposal, but if he had been a complete stranger, he would not have shown up at her home, even under the auspices of her neighbors, the Rightons.

  No, Ledbetter had noticed her when she had her Season. And she had noticed him. But his intensity had frightened her. There was something so overpoweringly male about him, so fraught with an undercurrent of desire, that she had trembled at his touch even when they danced a country dance. Never before tonight had she waltzed with him—which seemed now a very good thing. For look at the effect he had had on her. Lord, she would have swooned on the dance floor as a girl of eighteen!

  Ledbetter safe? Hardly. It was Allen who had been safe. So gentle and kind to her, so patient and understanding of her physical shyness. A gentleman through and through. Never the least sign of urgency in his touch. He had only kissed her a few times, and they hadn't been at all like the kisses Ledbetter bestowed on her. What had possessed her to marry him? He was far too physical a man for her to cope with.

  Prudence sighed as she pushed back the coverlet and climbed out of bed. She would have to overcome her distress. Ledbetter was showing an astonishing consideration of her difficulties, but she could not expect his patience to last forever. She grimaced at herself in the mirror and pulled the bell-cord for the maid.