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S hay felt as if he had been picked up in a storm funnel and set back down in the same place while everything else in his life had gone completely sideways. He was a husband. Something he’d never thought to be.

Something he shouldn’t have been so selfish as to have done. Thea was happy now. Thanking him even. But if she knew the truth… If she knew who he was, she would likely not be so happy.

It was easy enough for him to use her worm of a brother as an excuse. Marrying Thea had ended that threat once and for all. But Shay was not so deluded about his honor to know he had other reasons. And the reason at the top of his list was about to happen forthwith.

He took his wife’s hand and led her up the stairs. It had been so long since he’d been upstairs in the cottage, it took him a moment to remember which was the dowager’s chamber and which were for guests.

Thea helpfully pointed in the right direction.

The room was tidy and he wondered if she was ever in it long enough to disturb anything but the bedcovers. And even those were not touched every night, for he knew on occasion she fell asleep at her writing desk. And other times she got up early when she couldn’t sleep.

He knew a lot of intimate details about Theodora Sutton Buchanan, Marchioness Flemming, but what he desperately wanted to know tonight was what she looked like when she took her pleasure.

He wanted to see the color of the blush on her cheeks and hear her moans of desire. What he wished he didn’t have to hear was his name. Or rather the name he’d gone by since he was eleven years of age. Not now when they were about to consummate a marriage neither expected, but perhaps both of them secretly wanted.

He couldn’t think of any way around it. He’d given her leave of using it, rather than have her shouting “Lord Flemming” as she reached climax. That would have been awkward and unsettling indeed. Still, for this moment he wished for anything she would whisper his real name.

The name his mother had given him when he was born. But, alas, that was impossible for many reasons.

He stroked the side of her face with the back of his hand.

“Ye are lovely,” he said because it was true and because a bride on her wedding night should hear such words.

“So are you.” She closed her eyes. “Handsome, I mean.” She laughed. “For all my command of the written word, I still have difficulty wrangling the correct words when I speak.”

“Neither of us need speak very much if we are kissing.”

She nodded quickly as if she’d been eagerly waiting.

He leaned down to press his lips to hers. Like the day they’d been doing their research, he allowed himself to get caught up for there were no lessons to be taught or points to be made. Just them coming together in the most divine way.

He reached for his cravat and was about to pull it away when a timid knock on the door interrupted them.

Thea blinked at him as if unaware of who it might be. Shay went to the door and opened it wide enough to take the tray and thank Frannie for the food.

“That will be all,” Shay said to make sure the girl knew they wished to be alone for the rest of the evening.

Thea looked at the tray as it was set it on a table and then to him. He wondered if she was hungry and wished to eat first, but she stepped closer to him and initiated their kiss. Leaning up on tip-toes to put her hand on his cheek and pull him to her.

He went willingly and gave all the power over to her to explore and lead them along the connection. Her tongue reached out to touch his and he responded, curling his into her mouth.

She moaned in such a way his cock throbbed against his trews. He restrained himself a little longer before allowing his hands to float over her back and then around to her breasts.

She gasped and pulled away to look at him.

“No?” he asked when she didn’t say anything. Did she not want to be touched there?

“Yes,” she answered. “Yes,” she repeated when he didn’t move to touch her again.

“You may touch me wherever you wish as well,” he encouraged and she didn’t waste any time reaching up to run both hands up over his chest to his shoulders.

She made quick work of the loosened knot of his cravat and pulling it off. He’d done away with his coat downstairs but she unbuttoned his waistcoat and slid it off of him as well.

He turned her so he could make haste with her buttons. Her gown slid down her body and he looked at the threadbare shift she wore underneath. It was naught but a bunch of strings clinging to one another. While he hated that she had not been afforded the things she should have, he was at least grateful for the view this garment was unable to hide from him.

“You shall have new shifts on the morrow. Pretty silk,” he promised her. For a moment he wondered why she had not bought them herself. Some indulgence her brother would never see. But he knew she would not have enjoyed such a thing before. Luxurious shifts wouldn’t have made up for the anxiety over losing one’s home at any moment.

She would never need to worry over such a thing ever again. She was free.

And he wanted to extend that freedom to what happened between them in bed.

He removed his boots, stockings, and trews next as she watched. The flare of interest and desire in her eyes communicated how much she liked what she saw and it made him ache even more. When he reached behind his head to pull his shirt over his head, she gasped.

She looked away with a maiden’s blush on her cheeks, but not before he’d seen the shock.

“It is proportionate then?” she said. “To your size.”

He pressed his lips together so not to laugh. She was always researching even if he knew this particular topic would never make it onto the pages of one of her books. She was curious and he enjoyed being able to answer her questions.

“I can’t say that I’ve seen many besides my own. So I don’t know for sure. But it would stand that since I’m larger than most men everywhere else I’d be larger there as well.”

“Well, I’ve only seen one.”

When he cocked his head she explained.

“Lord Billings. After a night of drink with my brother he seemed to have lost possession of his clothes and his mind for he was walking about the house in nothing but his stockings. It was nothing like this.”

“As rewarding as this discussion is for my ego, I find I’m not so insecure to need it to continue. I’d rather you only thought of one man’s cock this evening.”

She laughed and nodded.

“Please forgive me. I will trust that you know best. After all you’ve done this many times in the past and I’m to assume you never permanently injured anyone or you would have boasted about it by now.”

He hung his head and shook it with a chuckle. “We are getting completely off course. You’re not to be thinking about the other women or Billings’s cock. We should only be thinking about us. Here. Now.”

“You’re right. I’m just nervous. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. I’ll take care of you, Thea. In all things.”

She nodded. “It’s so strange to not be alone.”

He kissed her again, getting them back on track. When she touched him, she followed the same trail she’d used before. This time, however, her cool fingers trailed over his bare skin leaving goosebumps in their path.

He deepened the kiss and untied the thin, frayed ribbon at her bosom before he realized there was no reason to be gentle with this garment since its replacement was nigh. He recalled her writing about the hero ripping the woman’s shift.

Pulling away slightly, he grinned before grasping the fabric with both hands and rending it down the front. She gasped but her eyes darkened with lust at his show of ferocity. He may need to get her an entire coach of shifts for this garment would probably not be the last casualty.

He kissed her hard and she kept up, her touch drifted down his back, lower until her palms fit against his arse. Then with more confidence than any other virgin might have had, she slid her hand around his hip to his front and grasped him.

Despite him scolding Thea for thinking about other people, Shay was unable to stop himself from comparing her touch to all the others before her. If only to wonder why it was so different when his new bride touched him. He was no green lad, he’d had pleasure in a myriad of ways but this simple touch nearly unmanned him.

He held her slim wrist to make the agony stop.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked.

“Nay. Not at all. It is lovely that you wish to touch me. It feels good. Too good and I want to last for you.” As well as for him.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Right. She wouldn’t understand that part. He opened his mouth ready to explain like he did with all her questions but then he smiled and took her hand in his.

“Let me show you,” he said instead before leading her to the bed.