Page 33 of Duke in Darkness

“She lied,” he said bluntly. “Having an orgasm…does not kill a baby. Saying such a thing is beyond belief.”

“But it must be true. Otherwise, how do, er, you know, ah, ladybirds, stop themselves from conceiving?”

Exton sighed and shifted position on the bed again. “You really want to know? It’s not, as you would say…proper.”

At this moment, she didn’t care if the information turned her hair green and made her toenails fall out. All she could cling to was the promise that she hadn’t accidentally committed a most terrible deed. And if her husband deigned to actually answer her question rather than rebuking her curiosity…

“Please tell me,” Lilian whispered. More than anything she wanted to be held tightly in his arms, to rest her cheek against his shoulder and be warmed. Instead, she reached out and grasped his hand. “Even if it isn’t something a lady should hear. I know I ask too many questions, but I want to know the truth. Not another lie. Please.”

For a long moment he stared almost yearningly at her slender fingers curled around his big hand, then he lifted her hand to his lips and brushed a light kiss over her knuckles. Blast it, why was he so confusing? Why did he never remove his robe, and why did he forbid her to touch him anywhere other than his hands and forearms, when he seemed to want so much more?

“You don’t ask too many questions,” he said eventually, his voice low. “On bedchamber matters, you may ask me anything. There are several ways to avoid conception. A man might spill his seed on her belly. Or use a sheath made of sheep’s gut over his cock. The woman might have a sponge, soaked in brandy. Or vinegar. Worn inside her.”

Her eyes widened so far it felt like they might pop from her head. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Nothing to do with orgasm. Also, not every bedding results in a baby. Sometimes once is enough. Usually it takes several attempts. Can take years. Others never do. Look at the royals.”

Lilian sagged against her pillow, suddenly more exhausted than if she’d run the length of the city and back. “I never thought of that. You are quite right. But why would Grandmother say such a wicked thing? I’m so cross with her.”

“No idea. Perhaps that is what her mother told her. Or her husband. Maybe he was a selfish bas—er, man. Or perhaps she just passed on her own beliefs. Some people have a…distorted view of the world. Very Cromwell-like.”

“Hmmm,” she said, reaching down so she could pull the sheet and quilt up over her legs.

Exton smiled and tucked the blankets around her hips. “The main question is, did you enjoy yourself? Before your fright, of course.”

A fiery blush heated her cheeks. It had been incredible. Her first orgasm, from his finger and thumb between her legs. The deliciously stern order to remove her nightgown. His hot, hungry stare as he’d looked on her scandalously near-naked breasts. The way he had carefully pushed his cock inside her, and astonishingly, while the stretching fullness had danced on the edge of discomfort to start, when he started to move…the wondrous friction. The oh-so-good pressure on her mound. Last of all when he’d pinched her nipple and said those raw, crude words, the jolt had gone straight to her center and hurled her over the edge into a second orgasm much stronger than the first.

As for discovering that not only could pleasure be found in marital relations, but that it had no dire consequences…well. That changed everything.

Lilian opened her mouth to answer and yawned instead.

Exton laughed. “Poor, tired duchess. I should leave you to rest. More ledgers tomorrow.”

He moved off the bed, and she had to clasp her hands so she didn’t stop him. Bite her tongue so she didn’t embarrass them both by asking him to stay and hold her, to kiss and touch her some more until the chill of the terror she’d experienced had been fully banished. Even perhaps let her explore that intriguing triangle of bare, hair-dusted chest she couldn’t stop thinking about.

Firmly suppressing such thoughts, Lilian nodded. “Indeed. Goodnight, Exton.”

“Goodnight…” he hesitated, and again, that wayward yearning made her heart thump.

Stay with me.

His shoulders straightened. “Breakfast for two in the morning? On the trolley?”

Lilian smiled. “Yes please.”

Exton inclined his head, and left her bedchamber. Eventually she climbed out of bed and walked over to her washstand. Swiftly attending to the stickiness between her legs, she then returned, put her nightgown back on, and settled under her sheets and embroidered quilt.

The silly feeling of disappointment needed to stop. At once.

Everyone knew husbands and wives of the ton did not sleep together all night, let alone dukes and duchesses. The only reason to share a bed was marital relations, and once completed, they bid each other goodnight and went their separate ways. Just because her feelings toward him were changing, didn’t mean the reverse was true. Really, she should be counting her blessings: a title at the pinnacle of society, generous allowance, one of London’s premier addresses. A most considerate husband.

Only a fool would crave anything more.

CHAPTER 8

T he next time he saw the dowager Lady Kingsford, he would be hard pressed not to strangle her.

Absently rubbing the scar on his upper thigh, once again unhappily trapped in form-fitting buff trousers, Gabriel took his breakfast plate and sat down at the dining table. Miracle of miracles, after the time he’d spent in Lilian’s bedchamber, he’d actually been able to sleep for a few hours. Now he was ravenous for the coddled eggs, sautéed potatoes, buttered toast, and thin slices of rare beef in front of him.