Read Online A Whisper of Desire by Bronwen Evans - Free Book Online

the opulence of his home. He took pride in his homes. Like everything he undertook, he expected not perfection but precision. Everything functioned in his home and there was a reason for every item.
    Marisa did a slow pirouette in the foyer. “Gas lighting, very modern.”
    “Far more efficient and easy to use than candles or lamps. You don’t have to carry anything anywhere.” He indicated she should precede him upstairs. “Brunton, have a bath drawn for Her Grace.” He addressed his wife. “By the time you’ve finished, your trunks should be unpacked. Would you like a light supper afterward in your rooms?”
    She shook her head as she walked up the stairs in front of him. She appeared nervous, her fingers fiddling with her gown, something he noted she often did when anxious. They had not discussed sleeping arrangements in the carriage, and he realized the closer they got to his rooms the more nervous she became.
    —
    What had she been thinking, agreeing to marry a man she didn’t really know? As she climbed the stairs she felt his eyes upon her. Soon he would see even more of her. He now had the right to do whatever he wished to her, with her…
    Her mind cast back to last night and seeing him lying half naked in that bed. He had been quite beautiful to look at, but the idea of lying naked next to him, letting him touch her, kiss her…She wasn’t ready. It was too soon.
    They reached the landing and suddenly panic had her struggling to breathe. She stopped and tried to draw in deep breaths.
    “Are you all right, Marisa?” her
husband
asked.
    Struggling for composure, she said, “I don’t know where to go.”
    He came up beside her and took her hand from where it fidgeted with her dress, and pushed gently past her to lead her down a gaslit corridor with inspirational artwork along the walls. She noted the walls contained no family portraits.
    Soon they came to a room where the door was open, and she saw a man inside folding cravats into a tallboy. What immediately drew her eye was the massive four-poster bed dominating what was a masculine room, obviously Maitland’s bedchamber. It reminded her of Sebastian’s bedchamber.
    She suspected, as with her brother’s marriage, Maitland would expect her to share his bed. Beatrice rarely, if ever, was known to sleep in her room.
    This is where her husband would take her and make her his wife.
    She briefly closed her eyes. She was
not
ready. To her relief, they didn’t stop but continued on to the next room, the door of which was open too. The room was the opposite of his room, all floral and soft feminine pinks and reds. Not quite to her taste, but not so overwhelming as Maitland’s room.
    “I shall leave you now. Susan will join you soon and attend you. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. I break my fast at nine o’clock every morning, if you’d care to join me.”
    The relief was instant, and it must have shown on her face, for he squeezed her hand. “That would be nice,” she managed to say without a squeak.
    He smiled at her as if she were a child. “It’s been a long, stressful day. I understand your fears. We have all the time in the world to get to know each other. You’ll find I’m a patient man. I shall leave it up to you to tell me when you are ready to share my bed.” He led her into her room and pointed. “There is a connecting door into my bedchamber. Feel free to use it whenever you need or want me.” With that, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek and left her in the middle of her room. She watched with a mixture of relief and sadness as he retreated through the connecting door and closed it softly behind him.
    This is not how she’d ever imagined her wedding night. She’d thought to marry a man she loved and that the wedding night would be spent in unbridled passion.
    Gratitude at his understanding flooded her and she had to sit down. Her breathing began to return to normal and it was only then that it occurred to her that