Page 45 of Miss Hawthorne’s Unlikely Husband (The Troublemakers Trilogy #3)

Thornfield House, Mayfair, London

S he’d married him. After all the years of waiting and hoping and admiring him from afar, she was Richard Thornfield’s wife.

Her wedding had been everything she had hoped it would be since she was old enough to want one.

She had never seen Richard smile so much, could never have imagined he would be so openly affectionate with her, from kissing her wedding ring to kissing her so passionately in front of the entire congregation.

Now, as she waited in a room she’d never seen before in a house that was almost as familiar to her as her own, she was left to imagine what the rest would be like.

She’d already had a taste of his ardor, and the memory had left her distracted on more than one occasion.

But tonight she would experience the rest and while she was excited to finally have all of him, a part of her wondered if she was ready for him.

Upon Ada’s advice, the room had been decorated with red silken banners and bows.

Vases of red and white roses with mint and lime blossoms held sentry on tables while larger vases filled with blood red peonies, orchids and ivy were placed on the floor.

Even the curtains on the bed were red and the coverlet was a rich red brocade.

A side table held two cups next to a decanter of wine and a platter of pomegranates and dried persimmons.

Under her green night robe, she wore the crimson night rail.

It wrapped around her fastening at her hip with a single silk ribbon.

It was beautiful, but there was nothing to hide how small her breasts truly were, how square her body was, how cumbersome and disproportionate her bottom and thighs were.

Would he mind? She knew he would be kind, as was his way, but Lady Tremaine’s words kept materializing in her mind.

Did this show her to her best advantage?

Was it possible to show her body to the best advantage when it was so uncovered?

Suddenly, she was terrified of him seeing her naked.

Her nightgown didn’t hide much but at least it hid something.

The switch from the exhilaration she’d felt during the wedding was disconcerting.

She’d pushed for this wedding and now that it was over, she wanted nothing more than for Richard to appear so they could get past this moment of ignorance and uncertainty.

She looked up at the decorations in the room.

She had relied on Ada’s imperfect knowledge of Chinese customs but now she wondered if she should have left it alone.

What if he was offended by this caricature?

Would he think they were pretty and thoughtful or would he see them as a mockery of the family he missed and culture he prized?

Surely it was better to do nothing if she couldn’t get it right.

Footsteps sounded in the adjoining room and she sprang up in a panic.

He was nearby. Where could she hide all of this in a short period of time?

Perhaps if she went to his room instead, they could do everything there.

She ran to the door and flung it open, only to come face to face with his chest. A chest covered only by his robe from all appearances.

Her head tilted back to meet his eyes and saw him watching her with amusement.

“Was I taking too long?”

“No, I only…” How on earth was she meant to explain this? “I thought we could do it in your room instead.”

“What’s wrong with your room?” he asked, his eyes flicking up over her head. His face went blank and Elodia’s panic grew.

“It’s um—”

His hands closed around her shoulders firmly and she fell silent as he moved her out of his way.

He’d seen it. She’d waited too long. There was no way around it now.

Silently, he entered her room and closed the door behind him.

She watched, wringing her hands while he took it all in, his eyes drifting over the rend silks, the fruit, the yellow paper cut out in characters that spelt ‘happiness’.

His eyes fell on the table with the wine, the glasses and the red candles. “This is…”

She walked over to him, still too worried to reach out to him. “Ada said they drink wine as part of the ceremony in China. She said it was out of a gourd but I couldn’t find anything like that. I’m sorry, I know it’s not correct. I wanted to give you something like what you would have had if…”

“If my parents were still alive?”

“Yes, and Ada wanted to help me. I know it’s not the same but so much of the wedding was about me, and I just wanted to give you something as well.”

He turned and pulled her into a firm embrace, his arms almost uncomfortably tight around her, his cheek pressed against her forehead.

She could feel his uneven breaths, the slight tremor running through his body as he held her close.

He wasn’t angry, but was he upset? Had she ruined the mood for the night?

“Richard?” she murmured, stroking his back tentatively. “Are you alright?”

He drew back and she was finally able to see his face and the faint gleam of tears in his eyes.

“Oh God,” she reached up to touch his face. “What’s the matter?”

He chuckled and shook his head in response.

“I told you we needed to go to your room,” she fretted.

Before she could move, his mouth was on hers, firm but gentle, kissing her deeply until her toes curled into the rug under her feet.

His hand closed around the back of her neck, drawing her closer to him.

Her hands clenched unconsciously in his robe and a moan drifted up from her throat.

He’d kissed her before, but tonight felt different and it wasn’t entirely due to her lack of clothing.

When he pulled away at last, Elodia was weak and breathless, clinging to him, barely able to open her eyes. He pressed his forehead to hers, panting softly.

“Ellie,” he murmured.

“Yes,” she nuzzled his nose softly, wanting to soothe him somehow.

“Thank you.”

He was thanking her? Her eyes opened. He was happy? “For what?”

“For this.” He pulled back further and nodded to the room.

Oh yes, the decorations. She’d forgotten them entirely.

“Do you like them? Even though it’s all wrong?”

He smiled, “Not all wrong. Red is the correct color.”

“The candles aren’t right.”

“The candles are perfect.”

“You’re being kind again.”

“The fact that you would even think to do this for me, that you would think to do anything for me at all is… overwhelming.”

“I was worried you’d hate it.”

“It is impossible for me to hate anything you give me.”

“It wasn’t just me. Ada helped me.”

“Mmm, and I will thank her in good time. Right now, however, we have business to attend to.”

She swallowed hard as her eyes widened.

“Oh?”

He brushed his hand over her hair, trailing it down her arm to take her hand before leading her over to the bed.

He lifted her by her waist and set her on the mattress with one swift movement.

She froze, her eyes widening slightly, her heart pounding, wondering how they were going to proceed.

Was he simply going to… begin like this?

Then he turned and walked over to the table with the wine and poured two glasses before returning with them in hand. “The wedding wine was traditionally drunk from two halves of a hollow gourd tied by a red cord; it’s drinking from the same vessel, sharing all things, two halves of one whole.”

“Oh.”

“However, cups have been used for some time as well.” He winked and handed her a glass.

“We don’t have a cord to tie it.”

“That’s alright, there is one thing we can do.

” He sat down beside her, “We put our arms like this,” and hooked the arm with the cup around hers, “and we drink.” He brought the cup to his lips, and she followed suit, although she barely tasted anything with his eyes burning into hers.

She couldn’t tell if the flush of heat flowing through her body was from the wine or his fathomless dark eyes.

He was too gorgeous, and now he was her husband. She’d wanted to be his for so long, had wondered and dreamt about this night in the abstract and now… now she was too anxious to feel anything. He plucked the glass from her numb fingers and returned it to the side table with his.

All she could think was that soon he would take off her robe and it would be the closest thing to being nude she’d ever been with another human being.

Why did the room feel so chilly all of a sudden?

She kept her eyes down, unsure of what to expect from him.

The bed shifted as he sat beside her on the bed again and carefully took her hand in his.

She focused on that warm, large, elegant hand with its smooth, olive toned skin.

Soon. Very soon.

“Why are your hands so cold?” he asked, his voice soft.

She shook her head. “I don’t know,”

“Are you nervous?”

“A little,” she admitted.

“Do you need more time?”

Her head snapped up. His concern was visible, his patience. “No. I don’t… I want to do this.”

“But do you want to do it tonight?”

“I do, only… can we,” How could she explain? She glanced at the door.

“Go slowly?” he asked.

She met his eyes. “Is that all right?”

He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing over her skin gently. “Of course àirén,”

The relief she felt left her weak. “Thank you.”

“What did you think I was going to do?” he teased.

“I don’t know. I was so focused on all of this, I forgot to ask Ada about… that.”

“Don’t worry, I’m going to look after you.”

She nodded, unsure of what to say. He leant forward and kissed her softly, his hand lingering on her face.

Yes, he would take care of her, of course he would.

He’d always looked out for her. Why would he stop now when there was no one there to limit him?

She leaned in, allowing herself to relax and let him lead her.

His hand drifted down her neck to her shoulder, his fingertips drifting over her collarbone and cool air on her skin. He’s removing my robe.

She pulled back and looked at him. His face wore that strange expression again. “Ada said—”

He nodded silently, his eyes fixed on her crimson shift.

“Is it alright?”

“It’s perfect. You are perfect.”

Untrue, of course, but it was a nice thing to hear from him regardless.

He released her hand and removed her robe fully, sliding it off her body, his eyes moving over her scantily clad body.

Then he kissed her again, his fingers tangling in her hair, pulling her closer to him until she was in his lap.

His mouth was pulling and caressing hers, his warm hands stroking over her body with greedy certainty.

Her hands fluttered awkwardly before settling on his shoulders.

It was more comfortable than sitting beside him, but she had never been more aware of how little she was wearing.

His mouth drifted over her cheek to her neck, sucking on her skin.

His touch drifted from her hip to her stomach, over her rib cage to close around her breast. A startled moan floated out of her mouth at the contact.

He’d touched her before but without her stays and the padding, it was entirely different.

His fingertips against her nipples felt so exquisite it was almost painful, then the gentle pressure as he squeezed stole the air from her lungs.

She couldn’t find the strength to lift her arms or open her eyes.

Then she felt the strap of her nightgown slide down her arm, and within seconds the spell was shattered. Her hand came up to close around his and she crossed her arms over her chest.

He pulled away, noticing the change in her. “Ellie?”

“Can I… can we leave this on?”

“What’s wrong?”

Fear was chasing away every shimmering sensation he’d evoked, leaving her chilled and awkward. “Nothing, I just… I don’t want to take it off.”

“You don’t,” he paused, watching her with a worried frown, his hands softly stroking her arms. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait?”

She shook her head forcefully. “I don’t want to wait,”

“But you are uncomfortable,”

“Only because I don’t want you to see me.”

That didn’t seem to appease him. His frown had deepened. “Sweetheart, there is no reason for you to hide from me.”

“It’s ugly,” she whispered in humiliation.

“What?”

“My body, it’s ugly.”

He shook his head. “There is nothing ugly about you.”

A mild panic began within her. The only thing she wanted more than for Richard to make love to her was to stay as covered as possible.

How could she explain? She didn’t want to talk about it; she wanted him to go back to touching and kissing her.

Instead, he was watching her and her wedding night was going to be ruined.

All because she couldn’t just close her eyes and let him do what he wanted.

“Ellie, àirén, we have time. You’re probably tired, let’s just go to bed now.”

“No, I—” she pressed her lips together as her eyes stung with frustrated disappointment. “I don’t want to stop. Is… is that the only way we can do it?”

He let out a sigh and removed his hand from under hers and she closed her eyes in defeat.

Then he slipped her strap back onto her shoulder and kissed her cheek softly.

He slid his arms under her, lifting her up long enough to turn and rest her on the bed.

Then he stood and walked around the room, dousing the candles except the two red ones beside the empty wine glasses.

“Richard?” she murmured, wrapping her arms around her legs.

He glanced back at her. “Lie down, sweetheart,” his voice came from the growing shadows.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as the light in the room drew dimmer and dimmer. She’d wanted it to be special but now that was gone. And it was all her fault. Then she heard the rustling of fabric.

“I take it you have no objections if I remove my clothing?” he asked.

Her lips parted in shock before she shook her head. He wasn’t putting her to bed? He wasn’t leaving?

She watched in stunned silence as he untied his robe and shrugged it off, leaving him utterly, gloriously naked from his broad shoulders and chest to his flat ridged stomach and powerful thighs, hanging heavily between them was his penis.

She didn’t move, didn’t breathe, just stared greedily at every angle, every ridge of muscle under that smooth skin.

She watched him walk around the bed to the other side and climb up onto the bed, a moon kissed god of love.

Like Eros coming to Psyche.

Her husband.