Page 73 of What a Widow Wants

Finally, Matthew raised his head, panting. “I had thought we would wait until the wedding, but I believe that is impossible.”

The hardness poking her thigh told her he spoke truth. She laughed deep and throatily, pulling him onto her again. “I see no reason to delay our pleasure.”

“Then we must marry soon, sweetheart. Unless you no longer care if our next child is said to be born too early.”

Fanny went still beneath him, closed her eyes, and swore silently.

“What?” The edge of concern was back in his voice. He sat up, fumbled with the candle on the nightstand, and the flare of a single flame brought his face into sharp relief. Puckered brow and taut jaw greeted her. “What is wrong?”

Putting a reassuring hand on his arm, she stroked the firm muscles. “Nothing, save I suspect we are too late for that to be a consideration, my dear.”

His frown deepened, then his eyebrow raised, a look of surprise on his face that made her chuckle.

“Do you mean you—”

Smiling, she nodded. “Yes, I am almost certain I am carrying your child.”

“Fanny! Oh, my love.” The joy in his voice made her heart sing. Then he shook his head. “But how is it possible, sweetheart? We have not been together since Charlotte’s house party. You had said then you believed yourself safe.”

“So I did. I’d been drinking the concoction all along. Yet, ever since Charlotte’s wedding, when I discovered both she and Elizabeth were increasing, I have recognized the symptoms—unexpected flashes of heat, fatigue, my breasts have been sore and swollen, and I have developed a strange craving for milk in my tea.”

He sat back, staring at her with wide eyes. “Milk in your tea? You have never liked it that way.”

“Save when I carried Ella.” An odd thing that disappeared the very day her daughter was born.

“And your courses?”

“Absent since September.” She took his hand, twining it in hers. “Somehow your seed vanquished my Queen Anne seeds.” Hesitant, still she needed to ask, “You are pleased, my lord?”

He stroked her cheek, his eyes shining with love. “With all my heart, my love. I am thrilled that you may even now be carrying my heir, or another beautiful daughter. But how did it happen? Your seeds have not failed before.” He raised accusing eyebrows at her. “When you took them.”

“I have no proof; however, I suspect it may have something to do with that startlingly sensual pagan rite at the Wrotham Harvest Festival. You remember when the Harvest Lord claimed the Corn Maiden?”

His eyes grew the darkest black and he settled himself on top of her again. “That I do remember very well.” He kissed her neck, nuzzling along the side until he came to her shift. Growling, he grasped the fine linen material. “We need to dispense with this now.”

“Wait.” She closed her hands over his to stay them, then pushed them away. “If you tear this garment I will have none to wear tomorrow.” Sitting up, she untied the string at the neckline. “You must wait a little as I disrobe.”

“Ahhh, you mean to torment me. Go faster.” Matthew threw himself full length on the bed.

“Going faster would merely lessen the element of seduction, my lord. Lie back.”

With a groan, Matthew complied, lying in her place with one arm beneath his head.

Fanny rose to her knees, pulling the chemise from around her until it covered her completely from neck to knees.

“Why do you assume the Wrotham festival possessed some quality that assisted in getting you and your two friends with child?” Bright eyes taking her in as she slipped the garment off her shoulders, Matthew extended his hand toward her neckline.

“No, I need no assistance from you, my lord. Yet.” She blew him a kiss, then pulled the one remaining comb from her straggling hair, bringing it tumbling around her shoulders and spilling down her front covering her breasts further. His sudden intake of breath and a stirring beneath his shirt to her right made her own body yearn for his, deep within her. “I find it interesting that all three of us had passionate interludes that night after witnessing the rite. A fertility rite, if you recall. Charlotte and Nash were actually in the field.” She lowered her shift until it barely covered her nipples and raised his shirt, revealing his cock at keen attention.

“I remember.” The husky voice only increased her need.

Grasping his member, she slowly stroked up and down. “I also discovered that Elizabeth and Lord Brack shared a bed that night. I scarcely believed it, but she told me it was true.”

“For pity’s sake, Fanny, I’m about to burst.”

She threw back her head and laughed.

A whimper from the trundle bed cut her short and she froze. After a moment, when no further sound was forthcoming, she returned her attention to her impatient lover.