Page 18 of The Blind Lyon (The Lyon’s Den Connected World)

“Yes, I suppose it is.” And what was more, the feeling of freedom flowed around her for the sheer fact that she was outside the house in the fresh air and sunshine.

With her husband. There was a quiet power about him that demanded she pay attention.

Flutters moved through her lower belly that were both familiar and new, and what was more, she wanted to explore why that was.

“Um, I might wish to spend some time in your company now,” she said in a low voice.

“Ah.” For long moments he was silent. Was he already regretting their union? Finally, he nodded. “Do you fancy a dance, Lady Masterson?”

Her thoughts spun with the quick change of topic. “Do you enjoy that sort of exercise?”

“Do you mean due to my slight limp or because I’m blind?” Humor wove through his voice.

“Oh…” The heat in her cheeks renewed. “I, um…”

“I am teasing you. But I do enjoy dancing.” His grin convinced the heat to spread through her veins to all points of her body. “One doesn’t need one’s eyes to do that. Most of the time dancing is conducted by feel.”

That wasn’t far from the truth. She glanced about. “Do you have a ballroom in your townhouse? It would be lovely to—”

Then the duke was suddenly before her, smelling crisp and clean like open spaces with a hint of pine on a winter’s day. He rested his cane against the side of a stone bench. “Shall we?” As soon as she gave him a murmur of yes, he tugged her into his arms, and a feeling of peace came over her.

“I haven’t danced in what seems like forever,” she admitted in a low voice as he led her into a modified waltz, which was all the small garden area would allow.

While they moved together, he hummed a popular tune, and their steps mirrored each other as if they had been doing this exercise together all their lives.

How well she remembered dancing, for she’d done it often with Timothy, but in the duke’s arms, it was different, exciting, and it made her want more from the man who was her husband now.

By the time the waltz ended, and they slowly drifted to a halt, the duke held her in a loose embrace.

She smiled up at him, even though he couldn’t see the gesture.

“That was lovely. Thank you.” Surprising desire spiraled through her lower belly while anticipation buzzed at the base of her spine. “I think, perhaps, I needed that.”

“Agreed, it was lovely, and it makes me realize how much I enjoy the exercise.” The warmth of him was quite distracting. “It also brought home to me how much I miss indulging in such things and how keeping myself here instead of out in society means I miss those chances.”

“So do I.” It was another thing they had in common. How unexpected. Once more, she smiled. “I wouldn’t mind dancing more often.” Would he hear her unspoken need?

“Neither would I.” The duke remained silent for long moments. “Since I can’t see in the usual sense, would you mind if I ‘saw’ you by touch?”

“Like you did the day before our wedding, and our ceremony?” Where she had originally thought it was odd and scary, she now understood why, and she welcomed it, even if it made her shiver with possibilities.

“Yes.”

“Certainly.” Annette nodded, then huffed at her stupidity. “Here.” She took one of his hands even as hers shook. “I don’t mind. If you’d like, I can describe the dress I’m wearing.”

“Please do.” As she spoke, he gently and lightly moved his fingertips over her face. When he moved them to her hair, slid them down her shoulders and arms, her words died away, for this embrace went beyond the sensual. It was special, new, and it had the power to steal her breath.

“Oh…” She trembled. In his care, she was on fire from his innocent caresses. “Peregrine, I…”

The duke was quite intuitive, for he framed her face with his hands, bent slightly, and brushed his lips over hers.

She nearly melted into a puddle at his feet.

Then he pulled away, as if he were waiting for her permission to continue.

So many sensations battled with grief and confusion and a tiny bit of guilt, yet…

The duke was here, and he was warm and strong, and she felt all too protected in his arms whereas her first husband had been gone for three years.

I know you wouldn’t want me to constantly suffer from your loss, and that you always adored it when I smiled… Peregrine, I think, will make me happy.

It was a big concession on her part, and that alone frightened her, but it was time to begin exploring this new path to see what might come of it.

“Annette?”

“I need to stop being so fearful so I can grow…” She rested her palms on his hard, warm chest as she peered up at him into the blue pools of his eyes that didn’t see her. “To discover what else life can give me instead of wallowing in pity, letting fear control me…”

“While waiting for death?” When she gasped, he nodded. “That was much how I felt for a long while until I had the same realization you just had.”

Then she was on the right path. “Yes.” She nodded, realized again he couldn’t see the gesture, took his hand, and brought it to her lips.

“Please continue, Peregrine. I have missed how sharing physical affection or rather desire can help smooth the rough edges and bring a couple closer.” She pressed her lips to his palm.

For a few seconds, the duke froze, appeared to think about what she’d said with a frown. Then, with a soft growl, he bundled her more comfortably into his arms and set out to apparently kiss her senseless.

It was odd, this being in his arms, receiving his kisses, but in this moment, she wasn’t as frightened as she’d been in a long while.

What was more, she kissed him back as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

This was a culmination of the other two he’d already given her, a natural progression of his patience, compassion, and understanding on the other side of that door, as if she had been holding her breath since then, waiting for this moment, this surrender.

And him.

Oh, how she missed being wanted by a man, feeling that solid masculine form beside her in a bed, coming undone with heated pleasure, and they had delayed consummating this marriage long enough. With effort, she pulled away, breaking the kiss.

“Peregrine?”

“Mmm?” His lips brushed her chin, the side of her neck as he nuzzled the crook of her shoulder.

“Might we go inside?” If her heart beat any louder, he would surely hear it.

Disappointment flickered over his face. “You wish to hide again? Have I hurt you? Angered you in some way?”

“No, of course not. Nothing like that.”

A frown tugged the corners of his mouth downward. “Then what?” He inhaled sharply. Surprise replaced the disappointment in his expression. “Surely you don’t wish to—”

“Couple with you? Yes, I do.” Admitting it aloud sent heat into her cheeks, but she didn’t care. They had drawn close over the past days. “I want to be with you without the barrier of a door.”

His swallow was audible. “But we’ve not spent time together to warrant this.”

A snort escaped her. “Poppycock. You sat with me for days since the nuptial ceremony. How many men would have had the patience to do that?” One of her hands curled into his lapel, and the superfine fabric was soft against her skin.

The sunlight caused the stone in her ring to sparkle like mad.

“You haven’t demanded anything of me or yelled at me or taken me by force.

Instead, you talked to me and gave me space.

You waited, and that means everything to me.

It goes quite far in building trust and desire. ”

For long moments, he was silent as he cupped her cheek. “You are certain?”

“Yes.” She nodded, hoped he could feel her honesty.

“I, uh, I might be a bit out of practice. I haven’t been with a woman in far too long and—”

“Hush.” Annette pressed her forefinger to his lips. “We will figure it out together. There is no correct way to find pleasure in bed. Don’t you think? And you know how broken I am. There is every possibility I’ll panic in the middle of the act, which will embarrass both of us.”

“First, you are not broken.” The duke pressed his lips to the top of her head. “Second, since we are wed, we will support each other, go as slowly as we need to. Third, you are no longer alone, as I’ve said before.”

“I know.” Tears welled in her eyes. “That has been quite the comfort to me this past week.” Lifting onto her toes, she kissed his mouth. “I want you, Peregrine. You are mine, and I am yours, bound by marriage, so let us finally have that wedding night, hmm?”

“If I could, I’d carry you upstairs.” Instead, he guided her hand through the crook of his elbow, and they went inside the house together, moved through the library and into the corridor beyond.

“There is no need, for you have already provided enough romance.”

“I don’t intend to stop, in the event you wondered.”

How could she not grin about that? “And neither should you. Aren’t gentlemen supposed to continue courting their wives even after marrying them?” As best she could, she would do the same for him. Would it be enough to keep her from fear?

Only time would tell.

By the time they’d entered the ducal suite, anticipation warred with apprehension in her chest. How would this work with a man who couldn’t see? Perhaps it didn’t matter, for like dancing, was the intimacy of intercourse based more on feeling and instinct and not just sight?

“What a lovely space for a duke.” His rooms were a welcome distraction from her racing thoughts. “It gives a masculine air.”

“Thank you. It’s comfortable for me.”

Decorated in shades of dark maroon and navy with dark-stained wood furniture, everywhere she turned spoke of power and position and wealth.

Cushions were shot through with gold thread, oil paintings of seascapes and wildflower fields were hung in gilt frames, while the pillows and counterpane on the large four poster bed were lush and inviting.

Silver handled combs and brushes rested just so on top of a bureau. Candlesticks had boxes of matches next to them. Bits and bobs were placed in obvious places, no doubt to make it easy for him to be as independent as he could be.

When another man came into the room, she stared at him in surprise while he stared back with the same expression.

“Pardon me, Your Grace, I didn’t know you had company.”

“Quite all right, Collins. This is my wife. Annette, this is Collins, my valet.”

“Lovely to finally meet you, my lady.” The valet offered a smile. “Masterson speaks quite highly of you.”

“Thank you for telling me. He is ever the gentleman.”

The duke smirked at the other man. “I won’t need your services for the remainder of the day, Collins. I’ll ring tonight if I require your services. Until then, I’ll leave you to your own devices.”

“I appreciate that, Your Grace. Enjoy your time.” Then Collins exited the suite, while heat raged in Annette’s cheeks.

“Do you suppose he knows what we’re about to get up to?” She hated to ask but she needed to know.

“Oh, I’ll wager he does, and probably approves.” Then the duke reeled her into his arms. “The staff have been concerned for your well-being, so when you have the chance and the wherewithal, I’ll take you ’round and introduce you to them.”

Before she could answer, his lips were on hers and he kissed her with such tenderness as well as intensity, that her head spun and sensations swirled through her blood.

It was going to be so lovely to be lost in this man, in what they would do to each other, if only to serve as a distraction from the grief and worry she usually carried.

With a sigh, she surrendered into his care while shoving everything else from her mind.