Carried away by her enactment, Isabel was startled when there was a splashing sound in the calm water. Chetwynd grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the shore. Isabel swallowed some water and struggled to find her footing. “What are you doing?” she managed to ask.
“What I should have done long ago,” he muttered as he continued to pull her after him. They were out of the water and rushing toward the trees.
She could see that the path they were following led to the manor house but avoided returning to the vineyard. “My gown,” she panted, as she pointed back toward the pond with her free hand.
“You won’t need it. You’ll be in your bedchamber in a minute.”
Isabel didn’t allow herself to believe his intention until he shut the door firmly behind them. When he turned toward her, the intense expression on his face left no doubt of his purpose. Within seconds he had slid her wet shift over her shoulders so that it landed in a puddle around her feet. Isabel turned away, embarrassed to be naked before him.
But Chetwynd was quick to move behind her and place his hands on her shoulders. “You’re magnificent, Isabel. Please let me look at you.”
Although shy, she allowed him to turn her around. He stood back and stripped off his own clothes without taking his eyes from her.
Pressing her lips together, Isabel watched. She had seen a nude male body before, even one in an aroused condition, but Derek belonged to Emily and had only stirred her curiosity. Seeing Chetwynd caused her knees to go weak, and her head felt like it might float away. When Chetwynd moved toward her again and cupped her breasts in his hands, she was afraid she might slide to the floor.
“Your body’s still wet,” he whispered. “Do you want a flannel?”
Chetwynd had meant to give her a minute to dry off, but when she shook her head no, he backed her to the bed, rubbing his own body against hers. In spite of his impatience, he lowered her slowly onto the bed. When she opened her legs, he moved between them, fitting himself against her. He was very aware that she was still a maid, and he didn’t want to frighten her.
“Wait,” Isabel whispered, and the word made him groan. He didn’t release her, but he pulled back to peer into her face. He had expected to see fear there, but her expression was more apologetic than fearful.
“What’s the matter, my love? Are you afraid? I’ll try not to hurt you.”
“No, no, it’s not that. But we shouldn’t do this. You wanted to wait for Justin’s approval. I have seduced you from your purpose.”
Chetwynd stared at her, trying to understand her reasoning. “You seduced me?”
“Yes, my lord. My grandmother, and later Marianna, suggested I seduce you into making me your wife. I promised myself I wouldn’t trap you, but now I’m doing just that.”
Wanting to be sure she wasn’t making an excuse to cover her anxiety, he asked, “You have no fear of my taking your virginity?”
“Oh no, my lord. I know it’s supposed to hurt, but I’ll be very glad to lose it with you. I do want to be your wife in every way.”
He did his best to control his urge to grin. “Your only worry is that you are seducing me?”
Isabel bit her lip and nodded.
“Will you feel better if I seduce you, Isabel?” As he asked this last question, he moved his hand between her legs to find her already wet and hot to his touch.
After a gasp, she answered, “I think that would be . . . acceptable.”
With this clear signal, Chetwynd caressed Isabel until she arched her body toward his, signaling her desire for more intimate contact. In spite of his need to plunge deeply inside her, he entered her gently until he felt resistance, then pushed quickly beyond the barrier. Once nestled within her, he thrust to his own release, calling her name as he came.
Ashamed that he had satisfied his own need without giving her pleasure, Chetwynd eased away from Isabel. She hadn’t cried out, but when he looked at her face he saw blood where she had bitten her lip. He kissed her gently, tasting her blood. “I’m going to fetch you a damp cloth, Isabel. That will make you feel more comfortable.”
Isabel was wondering if she should mention Emma’s suggestion, and he noticed her hesitation. “What is it, Isabel?”
“Emma gave me some ointment before I left Narbonne. It’s by the basin in a soft leather pouch.”
When Chetwynd returned to the bed, he didn’t pass the cloth to her and Isabel realized he intended to bathe her himself. He performed the intimate act of cleansing her in a loving manner that left no room for embarrassment. Then he gently applied the ointment to her swollen folds in a rhythm that soon had her breathless.
“Emma is a very clever woman, Isabel,” he whispered into her ear as he continued to stroke her intimately.
It was hard for Isabel to speak as she was rapidly moving close to losing all control.
Chetwynd grinned as she tightened around his fingers and found her own release. “Tomorrow we’ll try that with me inside you. Now turn on your side and let me hold you while you sleep.”
Isabel moved as he suggested. Nestled with her back against him, she thought about how he had called out her name when he was moving inside her. Then with a shudder he had relaxed, hugging her tight at the same time. Although he had given her pleasure while applying the ointment, she looked forward to sharing that powerful sensation with him.
The sky was just beginning to lighten when Isabel awoke, and it was heaven to feel Chetwynd’s hands cupping her breasts. When she moved slightly to see if he was awake, he kissed
