Page 57 of A Whisper of Desire
Rose jerked her glass and champagne splattered over her hand. “Ah, wouldn’t Christian or Grayson or actually Lord Fullerton, yes, Lord Fullerton strikes me as a very sensible and, I can’t stress this enough”—she fanned herself with her hand, splashing drops everywhere—“manageable man.”
Goodness, was there a story here? “Is there something you’re not telling me about Baron Labourd?” Marisa watched in disbelief as her new friend’s face colored. “You didn’t, you haven’t—ooh, what was he like?”
“Really! I think the question indecent.” But her wicked smile indicated she wasn’t overly upset at Marisa’s rash question. She wiped her hands on a napkin and said primly, “Our liaison was brief and satisfactory, that is all I shall say.”
From behind her lashes she willed Rose to say more. When she remained silent, Marisa said, “I spied on him and a lady in a garden one night. I didn’t mean to, but the sight…” Rose’s eyes widened. “She was pleasuring him with her mouth, it was the most erotic sight I’ve seen, mainly because he was so open in his pleasure. Most of the time Arend is a closed book, but in the throes of pleasure all his walls came down.”
“Walls down. Not with me. He’s a fabulous lover, but a woman likes to think she matters. While she is with a man she deserves his undivided attention. Arend sees to your pleasure, but it’s as if from a distance. He holds a part of himself back.”
Herexperience with Maitland was very different. She’d never felt closer to him than when he made love to her. He affected her, made her want things she’d never dreamed of. “Making love should be with someone special. A man you care for—deeply.”
Rose’s eyes welled. “Yes,” she choked out. “I never thought I’d find love and so…” She smiled through tears that rolled down both cheeks. She swiped them away and shook her head, smoothing down her hair. “Now I’ve found love, my past is likely to ruin it for me.”
“Love forgives many sins. I’d forgive Maitland almost anything if he swore undying love for me.”
A weak smile shined through Rose’s tears. “Perhaps. Philip never discusses my past or our future, and I’m petrified of raising the topic in case I don’t like the answer. Sometimes it’s better to live in the dark.”
“That is not true. If you can’t deal with the problems between you, then you can’t move the relationship forward, and in the end the special bond is strangled, and the connection withers and dies…” Her words petered out. The two women looked at each other and shared an unspoken truth. “First.” She held up her hand to stop Rose’s protest. “First, you have to ascertain if he is bothered by your past.”
“I suspect you’ll give me a ‘second’ now.”
“Second,” and the two women laughed as Marisa chatted on. “Second, if your past is behind you both and it doesn’t bother him, then you have to be brave and tell him you love him.” The laughter died.
They sat in silence for a moment, champagne forgotten as they focused on the truth of their situation.
“Aren’t we a pair? Both of us lacking the courage we need to learn the truth, and yet both with so much to win if we could just grab hold of the risk and shake it like a hound with a rabbit.”
“Think of the rewards we could win if we do.” Marisa’s hope would not be dashed.
“You love him like I love Philip,” Rose said softly.
Did she? She was attracted to Maitland, stuffiness, and all. She enjoyed sex with him immensely and she couldn’t see a life now without that intimacy. But only with him…If Maitland couldn’t fulfill her…She wanted a good marriage in all aspects. Living life as polite strangers would not do, but love?
“I’m not sure.” She raised her glass in a toast. “But I hope I learn to love him, but only if he learns to love me.”
Rose returned her toast, raising her glass high. “To reciprocated love and our happily ever after.”
The clinking of glass echoed round the room, along with the two women’s palpable hope.
Chapter 15
Maitland remounted Astraea, understanding that perhaps he had consumed one too many whiskies—hell, perhaps several too many whiskies. Astraea’s even gait was greatly appreciated, and he barely noted the busy streets as he made his inebriated way from Waverly Court to home.
That had been the most excruciatingly embarrassing few hours of his life. Sebastian had listened quietly to his concerns before tearing a strip off him for making Marisa think he did not desire her.
When Sebastian informed him that Marisa had been to see him, upset and concerned that there was something wrong with her, Maitland suddenly wanted to thank Arend. Arend’s stern words were those of a true friend. Only a friend would threaten to sleep with your wife to teach you a lesson.
Arend had been right, though Maitland was loath to admit it. His wife had been hurt by his cowardice.
When confessing his “problem” to Sebastian he hadn’t been able to bring himself to tell his friend what had happened in his father’s barn all those years ago. His shame would go with him to his grave. Instead, he had admitted his concerns about becoming like his father.
Warmth still cloaked him at Sebastian’s response. His friend had hugged him, something they rarely did, not manly behavior at all, and said, “I knowyou.I see the man you are. You are not your father. If I thought you capable of that sort of behavior I would never have allowed you to marry Marisa.” As Sebastian’s chest heaved with emotion he added, “I have faith in you to be an excellent husband for my sister.”
All these years Maitland had kept his wants and desires from surfacing. When Sebastian had seen the doubt in Maitland’s eyes, he’d told him tales of his amorous pursuits prior to meeting Beatrice, and Maitland began to understand that many of his fantasies were normal. That as long as the sex was consensual, both parties could engage in anything that felt good and gave pleasure.
They both laughed at the antics Sebastian used to get up to. He’d regularly enjoyed all forms of bed sport—multiple partners, a bit of bondage, brothels, many, many different positions that Maitland was now eager to try, but he could hardly say that to Sebastian. Marisa was his sister. What he’d begun to understand was that there was nothing unusual with a robust sex life.
What turned a healthy appetite for coitus into something obscene? The two men had discussed this at length. They determined it was when the urges started to affect the normal course of your life. That is, your work suffered, you forgot friendships, duty was pushed aside, and you did not care whom you hurt.
