Passion and Propriety (Hearts of Honour Book 1) (38 page)

“So you wouldn’t mind being woken in a similar fashion on
other
mornings?”

“Not at all.” Hannah’s blush returned.

“You are gorgeous,” William whispered, almost upending their trays when he sealed his words with a kiss. “I don’t mean
every
day, of course. Only on those occasions when you’re so inclined.”

Hannah expected to be inclined quite often.

She was surprised to discover the balance of power was in her favour when it came to their intimate relations, with William deferring to her needs and preferences. Fortunately, more often than not they were of one accord. While their days continued to follow a similar path of shared company and congenial conversation, they chose by mutual agreement to retire as early in the night as could be deemed respectable.

Hannah had assumed all such endeavours would be steeped in seriousness, but she was pleased to discover laughter could be shared amidst the passion. Her husband’s sheer inventiveness gave her cause for amazement, as she’d had no idea there were so many ways in which one could engage in intercourse. Some of their attempts were more successful than others, William’s physical limitations needing to be taken into consideration. But Hannah was more than willing to experiment “in the cause of being a dutiful wife,” she informed him with mock solemnity. His teasing response—pinning her to the bed and kissing her senseless—inspired her to reveal the truth. She was willing because she wanted William as much as he wanted her.

“I have no wish for you to do anything you don’t feel right about,” he insisted. “The last thing I want is for you to agree to something you’re not comfortable with out of a desire to please me.”

“I won’t,” she assured him, all too eager to discover whatever this wonderful new world of sensuality could offer. “As long as you don’t come to think badly of me for behaving in such a
manner.”

“Never.” He caressed her cheek with his hand. “I think you’re the best wife a man could ever wish for, and I respect and desire you in equal measure.”

Hannah smiled, finding his words—and the
experiences
they shared
—
both extremely satisfying.

“Heavens, that was delightful,” she said one evening after a particularly creative bout of lovemaking. They lay sprawled across the bed, William’s body spooning her from behind. “I wouldn’t mind trying that again some time.”

“You can count me in.” William rocked against her.

Hannah laughed. “Well, I wasn’t planning on attempting it with anybody else.”

Growling, he rolled them so she was pinned beneath them. “I should think not.” His tone and expression were rebuking, but the sparkle in his eyes revealed his true feelings. “It was rather exceptional, wasn’t it?” he added smugly. “There are a couple of other things I’d like to try sometime, if you’re willing?”

Hannah’s willingness was not in question, although her husband seemed convinced she would soon lose interest despite all evidence to the contrary. She conceded that once they were no longer cocooned from the demands of daily life, fatigue and time constraints would invariably impact the frequency of their endeavours. In the meantime, ample opportunity to rest and recuperate, combined with William’s diligence in making certain she experienced the most blissful satisfaction whenever they did make love, encouraged her compliance. If she’d been left tense and wanting like the first time, rejecting his advances to save herself from sheer frustration would have become inevitable. Since that was not the case, she was more than happy to oblige the husband she secretly adored.

Hannah was yet to tell William she loved him. Sometimes it seemed foolish not to come out and say the words, considering how readily she expressed her affection for him in other ways. But a niggling fear remained he wouldn’t welcome her declaration.

“Gentlemen of the
ton
, especially
those of the upper ranks, despise clinginess,” Lady Cromley had instructed in the days before Hannah wed, Lady Wescott reiterating the dire warning with much grimacing and shuddering. “One must
never
make sentimental avowals of affection unless one desires to be an object of scorn and ridicule by both one’s husband and society in general. If one does succumb to the imprudence of attachment”—the comment was accompanied by the disdainful rolling of the grand lady’s eyes—“then one must hide one’s weakness in the sure knowledge that the affectation will soon pass. There is absolutely no place for love
in a noble marriage.”

Neither was there place for passion, pleasure, or even friendship, apparently, but Hannah had found all three. Since she’d ignored the rest of her mentors’ advice, she considered ignoring this piece also . . . but she hesitated.

It would be so much easier if William would say the words first. In their place, he showered her with kindness and compliments. Fully informed as to how dismal and downright lonely her marriage was
supposed
to be—and as long as she didn’t consider her barren womb—Hannah felt she had very little about which to complain.

The newlyweds’ first foray into society as a married couple was with Hannah’s family, a gentle introduction. She had missed them terribly—well, when she’d stopped to think about them—and after two weeks of welcome seclusion she looked forward to their coming to dinner.

“You look well, my dear.” Her father greeted her with a kiss to her cheek, a question evident in his raised brow.

“I’m very well,” she said, her smile shy but genuine. It faded as a wave of self-consciousness overcame her. Her father was fully aware of the activities she’d been engaged in with her husband. A disturbing image flashed through her mind, and she shuddered. Of course, she understood her parents must have been intimate, but she’d never
envisioned
it before. One thought led to another, and soon sadness welled inside her. Blinking back tears, she perceived the depth of her father’s loss in a new light.

“Is something amiss?” William murmured close to her ear after they’d followed their guests through to the dining room.

“It just struck me how awful it must have been for my father to lose my mother,” she said, covering William’s hand where it lay upon her arm. “When I think of all the years he’s had to spend without her . . .”

“Which is why I’ve no intention of risking you.”

Unlike previous occasions when he’d made such comments, she didn’t take umbrage. For the first time, she asked herself if she wouldn’t act the same way were the tables turned and William’s
life the one potentially at risk. When he reached to cup her cheek, she leaned into his caress.

“Neither of us is going anywhere,” he said, his dark-eyed gaze as intense as the feelings crowding her chest.

At the sound of her father clearing his throat, Hannah startled. She’d forgotten all about their audience, but when she would have drawn back, William did the unthinkable and put his arm around her shoulder.

“Sorry to keep you.” He sounded far from apologetic, and Hannah blushed crimson. Rachel’s mouth was agape and Naomi’s expression bemused, but when she glanced at her father, his look was indulgent . . . pleased even. Relieved by his lack of censure, Hannah managed a wan smile.

“William!” she whispered on the way into the dining room. “It’s not appropriate to display affection in public.”

“They’re not the public
,
they’re your family.” He shrugged. “If we can’t be ourselves around them, when can we?”

In the privacy of our bedchamber when the door is locked against prying servants
, Hannah mused. She agreed with him, to an extent, and was relieved to discover he welcomed her family’s society so readily. Still, there were clearly defined limits to socially acceptable behaviour he appeared happy to ignore. Fortunately their faux pas didn’t negatively affect the evening, and the conversation flowed easily.

“I shall have to introduce you to Wilberforce and his cohort when next we meet,” William said to Naomi after a spirited discussion regarding the lack of options available to single mothers. Through Naomi’s volunteer work at the orphanage in Thornton, she’d encountered more than her fair share of young women forced into dangerous and disreputable occupations in their quest for survival. Hannah had worried her sister’s passionate opinions might offend her husband, but not only was William receptive to Naomi’s views, he appeared keen to endorse the charitable ventures she was eager to implement.

He had no trouble finding mutual topics of interest with Hannah’s father, as both men were committed to seeing the Blackthorn District improved. Even Rachel was soon enamoured of Hannah’s surprisingly charming husband, who managed to regale her youngest sister with enough tales of adventure from his time on the continent to ensure her rapt attention.

“Oh, Hannah, he’s quite marvellous,” Rachel said when the three sisters withdrew to the drawing room, leaving William and their father to indulge themselves with a small glass of port. “And the way he looks at you . . . heavens! You said the attachment wasn’t mutual, but that’s not true at all. Why didn’t you tell us it was a love match?”

Hannah gulped. “A love match? You mustn’t go spouting such nonsense, Rachel.”

“I wouldn’t call it nonsense,” Naomi said. “A blind man could tell you are in love with your husband, and he with you.”

Hannah considered her newfound propensity to blush an inconvenience, especially
in response to a provocative statement made by one of her own sisters. There were times since her marriage that, rather than feeling matronly as she should, her physical reactions seemed more in keeping with those of a giddy girl caught up in her first infatuation. It wouldn’t be so bad if Hannah had behaved in a skittish fashion when she was young, but it had not been in her nature then and seemed incongruous now.

“What
I
want to know,” Naomi continued, “is what went on when you were up here nursing him . . . all alone . . . for days on end?”

“Don’t be silly, Naomi. Hannah would never do anything remotely scandalous,” Rachel said. “She’s far too proper and upright for that. Aren’t you, Hannah?”

For once, Hannah wasn’t quick to agree or happy to be so designated. Rachel seemed to think her too timid for adventure and too stuffy for passion. While she had no desire to corrupt her youngest sibling, she nevertheless found herself admitting to a few minor truths.

“If you must know, William held my hand at every opportunity while I was nursing him,” she said before admitting, “I think he was afraid of dying alone.”

“That’s sweet . . . and sad.” Rachel came to sit beside the sister who’d been more mother than sibling to her the past several years. “There’s nothing improper about his needing the reassurance of your touch under the circumstances.”

“Does letting him kiss me after accepting his betrothal count as improper?” Hannah couldn’t resist asking, knowing the answer full well. She was surprised by how much she enjoyed the looks of shock that appeared on her sisters’ faces and wondered what mischief had overtaken her.

“I
knew
it. Yours is a love match.” Naomi’s grin faded when Hannah’s expression fell. “Am I wrong?”

“Not on my part.” Hannah was desperate to share her news but wary of the consequences. “I love my husband dearly, but you must
promise
you won’t tell a soul.”

Naomi frowned. “Why ever not?”

“Because it’s considered common by the
ton
,”
Rachel said, confirming Hannah’s fears. “Love is dreadfully unfashionable and to be avoided at all costs. Even
liking
is frowned upon. Arabella Cromley told me all about it, as did Margaret Wescott. They’re both set on making the most advantageous marriage available with affection not even factoring into the equation. They say
a husband’s age, appearance, and even disposition are irrelevant, as long as he is wealthy and highly positioned.”

“So speak their mothers,” Hannah muttered. A smile curved her lips when she considered she had somehow managed to win the trifecta, her husband being highly placed, exceedingly wealthy, and exceptionally personable.

“How lucky are you, Hannah, to have found a husband whom you find agreeable.” Rachel said, echoing Hannah’s thoughts. “I imagine it would be better if your tender feelings were reciprocated, even if you must keep them hidden from public view.”

“I don’t think there’s any fear of her feelings
not
being reciprocated.” Naomi’s tone was dry but a smile played at the corner of her mouth. “William seems very taken with you. We all saw him practically
embrace
you when you entered the dining room, and he was hanging on your every word over dinner.”