Page 38 of Married to a Wicked Duke
All at once, pleasure erupted within her, and a loud cry escaped her lips. Her legs gave way beneath her as the dizzying sensations flooded her body, and she felt Frederick’s arm wrapping around her waist, holding her to him as she sank into the sensations.
Veronica closed her eyes, feeling her breath coming hard and fast. When her legs felt strong enough to support her again, she turned around to face her husband.
“Frederick,” she breathed. “That was…” She had no thought of how to finish the sentence. No thought of how to put into words what she had just experienced. She reached for her husband, but he took a step backward, holding her hand in his for a moment, before letting it fall. Though she could still his arousal straining against his breeches, a closed-off expression had fallen over his face.
He cleared his throat, toying edgily with the buttons on his waistcoat. “I…” he began. Veronica held her breath. Surely he was not about to apologize for the way he had just made her feel? He swallowed visibly. “I wish you a pleasant evening,” he managed. And before Veronica could make sense of it, he was gone.
ChapterFifteen
Despite her late night in the studio, Veronica was awake early the next morning. In truth, she had slept little, her mind constantly replaying the events of the previous night, and her body still humming from the pleasure her husband had awoken in her.
After Frederick had left her studio, Veronica had sat back at her table and tried to return to work, but had been completely unable to do so. All she could think about was the feeling of her husband’s body pressed against hers, and those dizzying, blissful sensations he had drawn from her body.
All she could think about was how much she wanted to do it all again.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew how unlikely that was to happen. It had clearly been a moment of weakness on her husband’s part, wrought by candlelight, and the late hour, and the sight of her engaged in the same passion for art that he shared. The fact that he had refused to kiss her left no doubt in Veronica’s mind that it had not been a moment of marital intimacy they had shared, but rather a mistake that would not be repeated.
Bleary-eyed, she made her way toward the breakfast room, a faint flicker of nerves in her stomach. There was a part of her that was nervous about seeing her husband this morning. While last night had been impossibly blissful on her part, it was clear that Frederick had regretted his weakness.
When she stepped into the breakfast room, Veronica’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of her husband alone at the table. He was sitting at the head of the table with a sketch book and pencil in front of him, drawing with one hand while eating a piece of toast with the other. He looked up at the sight of her and closed the sketchbook hurriedly.
“Good morning,” he said. He too looked bleary-eyed, as though he had not managed much sleep either after their elicit encounter.
Elicit? How foolish.It had felt that way, yes. But Frederick was her husband. They had been husband and wife for four days now. In any normal union, they would have consummated the marriage long ago. In a very non-elicit manner.
The footman pulled out Veronica’s chair and she took a seat at Frederick’s left. “Good morning.”
“Did you sleep well?” he asked stiltedly. He looked down at his plate, looked at the closed sketchbook. Looked everywhere other than in her eyes.
“Not particularly,” she said, hoping vainly to nudge him into speaking of what had happened between them.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Frederick emptied his teacup and gestured to the footman to refill it. He took a long sip, not speaking further.
So it is going to be like this, is it? We are not even going to mention what passed between us last night?
Veronica supposed she could not be surprised that Frederick was doing his best to pretend it had never happened. After all, he had been the one to set the rules. And he had been the one to break them.
And even last night, he had been impossibly guarded; deliberate in refusing to kiss her, as though it might somehow draw them closer together. She shook her head slightly. Last night had been a mistake, that much was clear. A mistake on his part, yes, but a mistake on hers too. She ought to have kept her distance. Because she knew allowing herself to get close to her husband would only end up causing her pain. Somewhere, deep inside her, Veronica knew she had the ability to develop feelings for Frederick Barnes. And she knew all too well that they were feelings that would never be reciprocated. If he was going to keep his heart guarded, then she would have to do the same. As far as Veronica was concerned, the only thing worse than not loving her husband was for her love for him to be unrequited.
She nodded toward the sketchbook. “What are you working on?”
“Nothing of any importance,” he said shortly, biting into his toast.
Veronica gritted her teeth. Refusing to talk about their dalliance last night was one thing; refusing to talk to her about anything at all was quite another. Were they not supposed to be partners in this venture? Still, she was beginning to recognize that probing Frederick for answers was the best way to get him to close down completely.
“I would like to go to the school today,” she said. “I would like to continue work on the mural.”
Frederick nodded. “As you wish. I will have the coach prepared for you. I am afraid I have other tasks to attend to today, and will not be able to accompany you.”
Veronica smiled wryly.Of course, you do. But she just smiled thinly and said, “Thank you.”
When the door opened to reveal the Dowager Duchess, Veronica had never been more glad for her company.
* * *
Frederick knew he had escaped the breakfast table just a little too quickly. A big part of him had been hoping Veronica would be exhausted from her late night and would sleep through breakfast—and lunch too, if he was lucky.
But it seemed he was to have no such good fortune.
