Page 21 of The Captain's Midwinter Bride
Sucking in a deep, bracing breath, she smoothed the non-existent wrinkles from her dress. “I met Mr. Thompkins about a year after we married. Oliver was not born yet, and I had nothing to occupy my time aside from ensuring our little flat near Victoria Square was clean and orderly. But I had managed to make friends simply walking in the park, attending church, or visiting the market. Invitations to dinners and soirées followed. I found myself paired with Mr. Thompkins for a game of whist at one such gathering.”
Annalise ran her hands over her skirts again, her palms clammy. She didn’t realize her hands were shaking until Phillip reached forward and grabbed one. Without saying a word, he tugged until she joined him on his squab, and he tucked her neatly into his side. The smell of his cologne, unchanged over the years, gave her strength, as did the sound of his heart beating under her ear.
She licked her lips and continued. “He was friendly. Witty. A strategic whist player, and I enjoyed being his partner. We won every hand we played. After that night, I saw him frequently at various gatherings. I never thought much of the fact that he always requested a waltz with me or found a way to sit at my side at dinner or chatted with me during after-dinner entertainments. Lord, I was so naive.”
Phillip kissed the crown of her head, his touch gentle…yet enticing. “You were young. And alone. How could you possibly have known he was a predator stalking his prey?”
Pulling her head up, Annalise looked at him. “What an apt description, although I had no notion of it at the time. I simply knew a nice gentleman with friendly green eyes was always willing to be my partner at whist. I think back on my naivety and want to cringe.”
Squeezing her tight, he was silent for a moment. “What happened, Lise-dear, that destroyed your naivety?”
Annalise always considered herself brave, and in so many ways she was. Where her children were concerned, she would walk over hot coals, like in those South Pacific rituals she read about in the paper, to ensure their health and happiness. And more. There was no limit of what she would do for Oliver and Beth. But in that long-ago moment, she hadn’t been brave, and she’d punished herself ever since.
“I was at a small soirée at the Pellinghams’ home.” She chuckled into his chest. “I know how much you enjoy those.”
“Only when you’re there, I assure you.”
She pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. Playing with the buttons on his waistcoat, Annalise tried not to be distracted by the firm, broad chest that rested under her touch. “I had just excused myself to visit the ladies’ retiring room, and as I walked down a darkened hall to reach it, a hand reached out from a side door and swept me into a small study of sorts. It was so dark in there, it took me several seconds to realize it was Mr. Thompkins standing before me.”
“And what did he say?” Phillip asked, his embrace tightening.
“He…” Her voice caught, and she gripped his coat, as if he could serve as her anchor. “He didn’t say anything at first. He simply kissed me.”
“How very rude of him,” her husband growled.
His angry words startled a laugh from her. “I thought so too. And after I was able to push him away, I told him so. I reminded him I was married and not at all interested in an illicit relationship with him.”
“And what did he say?”
Annalise gripped Phillip tighter. “He said I couldn’t possibly know what an illicit affair entailed seeing as I was so young, and then he tried to kiss me again.”
“And what did you do?”
She swallowed. “I want to say I stomped on his instep and darted away, but truthfully, I was petrified and couldn’t move. So…he kissed me again.”
“He didn’t kiss you, my dear. He assaulted you.”
Unable to think of a response to such a boldly spoken truth, she buried her face in his chest.
The carriage lurched to a halt, and Annalise clung to him to stop herself from falling to the floor.
Phillip didn’t make a move to leave. He simply ran his hand along her back in a leisurely pattern and she relaxed into his touch.
After a long moment, there was a knock on the carriage door.
“I suppose we should take this inside, where there’s a warm fire and plenty of bracing brandy.” His voice was a comforting grumble under her ear. “Are you ready, my dear?”
Her mind said no, but with Phillip’s warm presence to lean on, she said, “I am.”
Phillip assisted her down and immediately looped her arm through his strong one. Without a word, he escorted her up the front walk, stopping in the foyer to take her wrap from her shoulders and handing it to the manservant. With a gentle touch to the small of her back, he led her not to the study but to the stairs where he followed after her into her chamber. He dismissed her maid with a word that her assistance was not needed. Phillip unbuttoned the back of her gown with deft hands, pulling the constricting material from her shoulders and allowing it to pool at her feet.
Clad only in her corset and shift, Annalise knew she should be embarrassed, or at least uncomfortable. But she wasn’t. This was Phillip, after all. Her husband. The man who had always been kind and respectful of her. The man who never assumed liberties with her person simply because she was his wife.
The man whose touch she’d been craving for weeks upon end.
After stripping her of her corset, Phillip carefully plucked the pins holding her coiffure in place, carding his fingers through her hair in tender strokes that soothed her spirit as much as her scalp. He led her to the large bed that sat at one end of her chamber, and with due care, tucked her under the pile of covers. When he turned to grab a chair in the corner, Annalise shot out her hand and captured his.
“Lay with me.” She swallowed. “Please.”
