Passion and Propriety (Hearts of Honour Book 1) (34 page)

“Don’t stop,” he said when she hesitated, and they found the rhythm together.

It was all so new and wondrous . . . the feel of William’s skin was warm and smooth beneath her hands where she stroked his back, rougher from its dusting of hair where his chest brushed against her breasts. Hannah hugged him close, feeling the pressure building inside her with every surge of his body. When he pushed deep, her insides clenched, releasing a burst of the most intense pleasure she’d ever experienced. With her eyes closed, she focused her attention on the fleeting sensation, wanting to feel it again.

Eager, searching, Hannah held tight as William thrust harder and quicker inside her. She felt as if she was climbing to a great height, the journey a revelation of sensation and desire. Cries escaped her lips as he drove deep, her body pulsing with pleasure. Arching her back, she sought more of the same . . . much more
.
But just when she thought it—whatever
it
might be—was about to happen, William groaned. A tremor rippled through him, and he withdrew from her body with a suddenness that left her reeling. She felt him grab for the towel he’d tucked beneath the pillow as he continued to shudder and shake in her arms. Even with him holding the soft cloth between them, she could feel him pulse against her thigh.
 

“Hannah,” he groaned and buried his face against her neck. His other arm held her so tightly she could barely breathe, but it didn’t matter. Breathing was a nonessential in that moment. Her husband had joined his body to hers. A strange and intimate mixture of pleasure and pain, the experience had the potential to be truly extraordinary . . . she hoped. The agitation she’d felt when he’d called a halt to their kisses was
nothing
to her current degree of frustration, her body humming with an almost unbearable tension.
 

As for the ache in her heart, Hannah understood why William had chosen to deny her his seed. He sought to protect her. But as his grip on her relaxed and he collapsed against her side, she was unable to stifle a sob.

Chapter 27

Recovery

Hannah woke with a start. William had promised to stay, but she was alone in the bed. Bereft at his absence, she curled on her side, intent on hugging her pillow, until she saw the note on her bedside table. At least he hadn’t left without explanation this time.

Reaching for William’s missive, she was pleased to observe she wasn’t overly sore. In fact, she felt no worse than after spending a day scrubbing laundry or beating rugs. Of course, the location of her tenderness was not customary, and a smile curved her lips at the memory of what had caused her discomfort. There was something very satisfying about knowing she was no longer a maiden but a married woman in every sense of the word.

After opening the folded sheet of parchment, Hannah settled back on her pillow to read her husband’s note.

My Darling Hannah,
he began, and her smile widened. There was nothing equivocal about his greeting.

I am sorry for not being there when you awake, but I’m used to rising early and feared my restlessness would disturb you. Please, take as long as you need to recover. I’ve instructed your maid to bring you breakfast in bed and to have a hot bath prepared for when you are ready. I do hope it is beneficial and brings you some relief from your discomfort.

I sincerely apologise for the distress I have caused you as a result of my less-than-considerate behaviour. Your generosity puts my boorish actions to shame. My hope is that, in time, you will be able to forgive me.

Your devoted husband,

William.

Hannah reread the letter several times, but was no less bemused by its contents.

Forgive him? What did William think he had done to her?

It hadn’t been that bad, even if the moments following the consummation of their marriage had been rather awkward. He’d apologised for his abrupt withdrawal, concerned he must have hurt her.

“I’m fine,” she’d assured him, considering her body’s tenderness a more-than-acceptable price to pay for the consummation of their marriage. Once the initial pain had subsided, she’d found their coupling extraordinarily pleasant. The sweet but fleeting sensations she’d experienced when he was moving deep inside her had been enchanting, raising questions she was eager to have answered. Hannah hoped her husband’s altogether unnecessary self-castigation would not deprive her of the opportunity for further discovery
.

Breakfast in bed was an indulgence she could quite easily become accustomed to, although sharing the first meal of the day with William was still preferable. Rising when her bath was ready, she caught sight of a reddish stain on the sheet and her face turned crimson.

“Is it time for your courses, my lady?” Marianne asked, and Hannah jerkily shook her head. “Oh . . . I see,” the maid added with a knowing look.

Hannah sighed. If there had been any doubt as to the state of the viscount’s marriage, this would put it to rest. The news would be all over the village by nightfall. Marianne might not speak of it, but the laundress surely would, with everyone from the lowest scullery maid to the butler being apprised of William’s and her intimate business. The benefits of having a retinue of servants could sometimes be outweighed by the appalling lack of privacy.

“Are you
well,
my lady?” Marianne asked, her tone filled with compassion.

Hannah squared her shoulders. “Perfectly, though I imagine a nice hot bath will be welcome.”

“I’m sure it will.” Marianne nodded, her expression turning wary. “You’re not
afraid
?”

“Afraid?”

“Of becoming with child to His Lordship.”

“Not at all,” Hannah said. “The Blackthorn Curse is broken. My husband and I have nothing to fear.”

After luxuriating in her bath for much longer than she typically allowed, Hannah took a long look at her reflection. Marianne was very skilled at styling hair and, combined with
another
lovely new gown, Hannah was pleased to note she looked quite presentable. That her change in status and experience were not more evident in her appearance was a little surprising, although she did imagine there was something different about her smile.

She’d thought to find William in his study, but a passing footman informed her the viscount was in the library. Pausing in the doorway to one of her favourite rooms in the manor, she observed her husband for a moment. Seated by a sunlit window, he was intent on study, his head bent over a book. Releasing a sigh, she admired the way his dark locks and sun-burnished skin contrasted with his snowy white cravat, his broad shoulders flattered by the well-cut jacket.

Hannah’s stomach fluttered. Her husband was a handsome man, scars and all.

She approached quietly and waited until she was close to draw attention to her presence. While she hoped the activities they’d engaged in the previous night would increase their sense of familiarity, in reality she imagined things could be quite awkward between them at first.

“William?” She spoke softly, but he leaped from his chair, slammed shut the book he was reading, and spun to face her.

“Hannah!” His surprise bordered on alarm, and she took a step back.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.” She frowned, not knowing what to make of his reaction. “I can leave if you’d prefer.”

“No!” He strode towards her and captured her elbow, ushering her back the way she had come. “We’ll both leave . . . the library . . . together.”

“Are you sure?” She looked back over her shoulder to the pile of books he’d left scattered across the table. “I’m quite capable of amusing myself if you want to keep doing whatever it is you were . . . doing.”

“I’m finished,” he muttered, not slowing their pace even once they were in the wide, picture-lined hallway. Hannah almost had to run to keep up, surprised William’s leg could afford him such speed.

“Where are we going?” she asked when he led her down a side corridor and out into the garden. “I don’t have my bonnet.”

“We won’t be in the sun for long.” He spared her a glance and then thankfully slowed to a more respectable pace. “There’s somewhere I’ve been meaning to show you, somewhere we can talk without being disturbed.”

Hannah thought any one of the drawing rooms, or the library
for that matter, would have sufficed—all they would have had to do was close the door—but William seemed intent on his destination. When they reached the vine-covered bower that overlooked the lake, all but hidden in a grove of willows, she appreciated his choice of location.

“This is lovely,” she said from beneath the shady overhang, not that William gave her time to take in the view.

“Be honest with me.” He turned her to face him, his hands gripping her shoulders. “How bad is the pain?”

Hannah’s eyes widened. Her husband seemed to be operating under the assumption he’d caused her a terrible trauma.

“I’m fine,” she insisted before adding, “other than being dragged from the house and halfway across the garden without a by your leave.”

With a groan, he clapped a hand to his forehead. “Idiot. Not you . . . me,” he clarified at her startled look. “I wasn’t thinking. Should you even be up and about? God, you must think me despicable. I’m so sorry.”

“William, enough.” Hannah placed a hand on his chest to add weight to her words. “There’s absolutely nothing for you to fret about or apologise for. I am
perfectly
well. My discomfort is inconsequential.”

“Oh.” His shoulders sagged. “You’re certain?”

“Positive.” She nodded, hoping to reassure him with a smile.

“But you
were
in pain last night.” His scowl darkened. “You cried.”

Hannah sighed. In the aftermath of their lovemaking, a sudden fear he would leave combined with her disappointment over his withdrawal had caused unwelcome tears to spring to her eyes.

“I admit our coupling was a little painful in the beginning, which I gather is to be expected. But after the initial discomfort, it was very pleasant
.
”

He raised his eyebrows. “Then why the tears?”

Deciding that nothing but the truth would placate him, she reluctantly made her admission. “Because I was saddened by the knowledge consummating our marriage could not lead to a child.”

Releasing her shoulders, William took a step back. “Hannah—”

“It’s all right,” she said before he could continue. “You believe the risk is unacceptable, and this is the only way for us to have a real
marriage. I’m not disputing your assessment. I’m not
agreeing
with it either. I’m just explaining why I became emotional.”

“A woman deprived of the chance for motherhood is certainly entitled,” he muttered bitterly.

“I understand. Really, I do.” She clasped his arm when he would have turned away. “You’ve found a compromise, and I’m glad. Last night was lovely.”

“You’re not just saying that?”

“Not at all. I’m just sorry I spoiled it for you by acting missish.”

“No, sweetheart.” He bent down to capture her gaze when she dropped her head. “You didn’t spoil it.”

“Was it everything you thought it would be?”

“Everything and more.” He stroked her cheek. “Although I hope it will be better for you the next time.”

Hannah hoped so, too, though she was mostly relieved there was going to be a “next time.”

“One should take time to recover, of course,” William added almost sternly.

“Of course,” Hannah agreed before her curiosity overcame her sense of decorum. She knew so little about the process and was eager to learn. “How long is required?” she asked, and then blushed at the forward nature of her query. “I mean, how long before you’re recovered?”

Disappointingly, William swore . . . a rather pithy epithet. Hannah had hoped he was overcoming the tendency, as his behaviour in that regard had been exemplary since their betrothal.

“I wasn’t speaking of
my
recovery, but yours.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t meant to offend him. “Because I am . . .
was . . .
a virgin?”

“Precisely. Your body needs time to heal.”

“Whereas
your
body?”

“Has no such need,” he said dryly. “I’m a man in my prime. Believe me, I require little
recovery time.”

“Well, that’s good to know.” Hannah decided if she didn’t deal with his misconception head-on, he would drag this out indefinitely. “Because I can assure you I’m not the fragile flower you seem to think me. While I imagine a certain degree of
gentleness
might be wise, I am perfectly recovered from the loss of my virginity and ready to accommodate you whenever you desire.”

Rendering her husband speechless was a rather enjoyable exercise. When his shocked expression was overtaken by one of blatant desire, she was glad she hadn’t made a grand exit after delivering her response. One moment she was standing in the middle of the floral-covered enclosure, engaged in what could almost be described as risqué repartee. The next, she was in her husband’s arms, pressed against a timber post and being thoroughly ravished. Well . . . passionately kissed
.
They were in a somewhat public place, and she trusted William not to let things get
too
out of hand.