Page 21 of Secrets of the Marriage Bed
She slowed her breathing, tried to still the panic she had felt on awakening. ‘I am sure I do not know what came over me.’ She swallowed hard. ‘Have I slept long?’
‘Two hours, or so.’
So long. How could that be? She groaned. ‘I apologise for being such poor company.’
‘And here I was thinking it was my treatise on crops and yields and mangel-wurzel that had you snoring.’
‘Snoring?’ Horror filled her. She squeezed her eyes shut. ‘Oh, I do beg your pardon.’
He frowned. ‘Julia, I am jesting.’
‘It is hard to tell when your expression is so stern.’ She winced at the words she had meant to keep to herself.
He half turned to face her. ‘You are my wife, Julia. Am I not entitled to undertake a little teasing?’
She stared at him wide-eyed, aware of the small curl at one corner of his mouth signifying amusement, but the shadows in his grey eyes showed concern. ‘You must forgive me, I was not quite awake,’ she said, miserably aware she was apologising yet again.
‘Someone hurt you.’
She stared at him blankly.
‘You flinch, Julia. When your speech is unguarded. You startle when I move too quickly. When you awoke a moment ago, you seemed nigh on terrified.’
There was an accusation in his tone, yet it did not seem directed at her.
‘Who, Julia?’
It was the first time he’d used her first name for an age. She shook her head, the memories of her husband’s cruelties too raw, too filled with unhappiness because of her own failures as a wife. She shook her head. ‘It is all in the past.’
He reached out slowly, the way one might reach out to a skittish horse, and took her gloved hand. His steady gaze rested on her face. ‘I will make you a promise. Never will I raise a hand to you or physically cause you harm.’ He spoke as if he was taking a vow. ‘Do you believe this?’
His gaze was so intent upon her face, she felt as if every thought, every memory was bared to him. Yet she did not want him to know how cowed she had been by her husband. Or how she’d failed him.
Naturally, Alistair was irritated by signs she did not trust him. It likely impinged on his honour as a gentleman. And truly he had never given her cause to think he might raise his hand to her, even if his words at times sliced at her feelings.
She nodded her agreement and promised herself she would do better.
He brought her fingers to his mouth and kissed her knuckles.
Her stomach tumbled over and her inner muscles tightened. The hot restless feeling low in her abdomen increased tenfold. She swallowed a gasp of shock.
The twinkle in his gaze said he knew exactly the reaction he had provoked. He kept her hand in his, resting on his thigh. Her heart gave an odd little thump. She tried to ignore the heat of his hand permeating through her cotton gloves and the strength of his muscled thigh against the back of her hand.
He glanced out of the window. ‘Not long now.’
She leaned forward to look out of the window. Her head spun. Her stomach rebelled. She slapped a hand over her mouth. ‘Oh, no,’ she whispered through her fingers.
His expression hardened, but he didn’t waste a second. He hammered on the roof. ‘Pull over.’
He held her around the shoulders as the carriage came to a halt.
Her stomach heaved.
She lurched for the door.
‘Steady. Let me help you.’ He held her while he opened the door with the other hand.
She wasn’t going to make it. ‘Please.’ She swallowed.
