Ivy was coming into his room, peering around the door. “Forgive me for disturbing you, but I wanted to make sure you have everything you need. Are you all right?”
“Yes,” he answered, drawing his dressing gown tightly around him. “As are you, I see. But should you be here?”
She shook her head as she closed the door. “No. I shouldn’t. But…I have questions, Colly. Matters upon which I would like some guidance.”
Still, he hesitated. “They could not wait until morning?”
She swallowed, her throat moving in the low light of the single candle. “I’d prefer now, but if you’re tired, then of course I understand…” She turned away.
“No, wait.” He moved toward her. “Please. Let’s talk. If it is important enough to bring you to my room at this hour, then we shall give it our fullest attention.” He drew her to one of the two chairs arranged near the window. “Now. Ignore the storm and tell me what it is that is troubling you.”
“I’m not sure it’s troubling,” she began, settling her own dressing gown around her feet. “But it is of concern to me.”
“Then by all means let’s hear it.”
She took a breath. “Do you really want to marry me, Colly?”
He opened his mouth to reply, but the words were swept away on a loud rumble of thunder. He sighed, waited, and tried again. “Yes.”
She blinked. “Oh. I wasn’t expecting…well…I didn’t really think…”
He wanted to grin, but managed not to. Her confusion was delightful, her presence brought a happy warmth to his heart and other places, and it appeared she wanted to talk about their wedding.
He proceeded carefully. “I don’t make such statements lightly, Ivy. Nor would I cry off. When I said we were engaged, yes, it was in response to the situation. But having said it…” he paused, trying to see her expression in the dim light. “I stand behind my words.”
A flash of lightning illuminated the look of surprise on her face. “You really do want to marry me?”
Once again he kept his answer brief. “Yes.” The less information he gave her, the less she could develop an argument against their marriage; something he suspected she might try to do.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you want to marry me? You could do much better. Many young ladies have vast estates, or boundless wealth to increase the Maidenbrooke coffers. Isn’t that how marriages are made in your world?”
“Ah Ivy,” he sighed. “Understand this, my dear. We live in the same world. Trust me.”
“I can’t…”
He took a breath, rose, walked to her chair and lifted her up out of it, ignoring her shocked squeak.
“Colly…”
Stepping back to his chair, he sat, plunked her down on his knees and held her there with one hand, while the other pushed her hair away from her cheek. “There. Now we can be quite comfortable. Talking is easier this way, wouldn’t you agree?”
Her expression was uncertain, but she made no move to rise. “Dreadfully improper.”
“You started it by coming in here.”
She sniffed. Then peeked at him, her lips slightly curved. “Yes, I suppose I did.”
“What is at the bottom of this, Ivy? What is troubling you?”
She leaned against him, relaxing, her body loosening as she shifted herself a little. “I am afraid I’ll disappoint you.”
He wanted to roll his eyes, but dared not, in case the lightning showed that scornful display to the worried armful of woman heating his lap.
“How could you possibly disappoint me?”
She hesitated, then raised her chin. “I am not experienced enough in the ways of the world to be your Duchess, Colly. I will make terrible mistakes. And then there’s the matter of…of the bedchamber…”
Her face was lowered and the last words mumbled, but he heard them all the same.
“Your concerns may be valid to you,” he said quietly. “But I hope you’ll believe me when I tell you that they are of no worry to me at all.”
“But…”
He stopped her words with his mouth. She was too close, too fragrant, too warm for him not to take what he so desired. She stilled for a brief moment, then parted her lips on a sigh, welcoming his tongue as she slid her arms around his neck.
This time, he could not hold back, drawing her up against his chest, moving so that she could feel the evidence of his need hard beneath her thigh.
“I want you, Ivy. There’ll be no trouble between us in bed, my sweet.”
“I…” she pulled back, her lids heavy. “Is this desire? This heat that burns inside me? I’ve never felt quite like this…”
He looked down at her thin gown, seeing the buds of her nipples sharply rising against the fabric. With a pained smile, he lifted his forefinger and brushed against one, loving the gasp of shock that gusted from her lips.
“This is desire, Ivy. Yes, I want you. You know how much because the evidence is beneath your leg right this minute. But this…” he ran his fingernail lightly across the hard nub, making her shiver, “this is your body telling me that you want me as well. That my touch is not unpleasant…” He repeated the move and she moaned. “It isn’t unpleasant, is it?”
“Nooo,” she breathed, her eyes closing. “Oh no, not at all…”
He shifted her a little, relieving some of the pressure on his cock and letting her gown slide away from her legs. “Everything we do will be pleasant, sweetheart.” He slid one hand beneath the thin silk and found more silk, this time warm and firm.
His touch brought another tiny whimper and as he moved his hand upward, her legs parted as
