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He took her hand and placed it over the bulge in his breeches. “See what you do to me? I want you so desperately, my love.” She stroked him through the material, still marveling at how her touch could make it so much bigger.

When she stopped, it was only to pull her chemise over her head and throw it to the floor. “I want you too, mi marido.”

He smiled and lifted her in his arms to take the two strides to the bed. She should call him husband more often if this was the response. Elena opened her arms to him, and he came down upon her. His weight settled between her thighs. He kissed the inside of her thigh as he hitched it higher.

His finger slid through her curls and found the spot she liked him to stroke. She flung her head back when he dipped inside her and then back out, flicking her clitoris with his thumb. “Dios mio,” she moaned as she twitched beneath him. “I need you,” she gasped and clamped her hands on his buttocks. He rose up on his knees to free himself, and her hand found him and pulled him towards her entrance. When he slid inside her, they both sighed. “God, I love you,” he said, but it was muffled in her hair as he thrust within her. Elena was mindless of everything but the man in her arms. The man who had turned her whole life upside down. The man she loved.

Heaven opened above her, and she clutched him to her as his lips crashed down on hers as they kissed savagely. Her hips urged him on and on. Then the wave hit her, and she cried out in pleasure. It was like she had lifted off the counterpane and was hovering above it, Tomas still within her. He thrust once more and joined her, both of them panting and sweaty and laughing and joyous.

*

Thomas never wanted to leave the bed. It was the first time he had made love to her on English soil. They both needed to break the tension they were both feeling. He knew this was a huge adjustment. She had not been taught the finer things, and although he did not care about socializing during the season, there was a certain society back home. He did not want her to feel on the outside simply because she did not know the rules. Hopefully, his mother and sister would take her under their wing and teach her, but would Elena let them?

His eyes closed, and he slept until there was a knock on the door—Mrs. Wilcox with their dinner. He got up and put on his banyan. He opened the door and took the tray from her, thanked her, and told her that a modiste would be coming tomorrow afternoon and to bring them straight upstairs.

He brought the food to bed and gently woke Elena. “Let’s eat it in bed like we did when we were at Carlos’s inn,” he suggested.

She rolled her eyes at him. “You just want to keep me naked.”

“You have caught me out,” he said with a laugh.

*

The modiste arrived with a flurry of assistants. She claimed to be French but did not really speak it, so she fluffed around her, waving feathers in her face. Thankfully, Tomas was there to translate the English. They took all her measurements and brought a number of new chemises and stockings, gloves and bonnets. Elena was pinned and pressed and draped with fabric. She wasn’t even sure how they decided on what, but by the end she had three morning gowns, three evening gowns, and a ball gown in a gold shimmering silk. Thankfully, the floor had stopped moving, or she could have found herself a pincushion. The modiste and her entourage then exited with the same flurry as they entered.

They left her with a gown that they had altered to fit, in a lovely light sage-green. She felt pretty in it. She had not realized how her drab-colored dresses made her look plain.

“I have always known you were beautiful, but that color highlights your beauty. I think we should go out somewhere. We are close to St James’s Park. Would you like to go for a walk?”

“Yes,” she said in English. “I would like that very much.”

“Perfect. That was absolutely perfect,” he replied, giving her a kiss and passing her the new bonnet and putting her arm through his. “Let us stroll, which is another way of saying a slow leisurely walk,” he explained. “Maybe we will go as far as St George’s so you may see the church we will marry in.”

“I would like to see the church of your England.”

“The religion is called the Church of England and St George’s is one of many churches here in London.” When they got to the front door, he turned to her. “Now, do not be alarmed by the many people. It will not be as bad as Cadiz but it can get crowded. Keep your hand on my arm.”

She had no intention of letting go of his arm. If she had expected sunshine and fresh air, she was disappointed to find that the London sky was overcast, and the air was dense. The closer they got to the park, the better the air became. It was obvious that this was an upper-class part of the city. The houses were grander with tidy fronts. As they walked, Tomas pointed out the various sites as carriages barreled past them.

About a half hour later, they stopped outside St George’s church. It was the strangest church she had ever seen, with great pillars out the front. It made the building look imposing compared to the small rural churches of her part of Spain. When they stepped inside, it was a lot smaller than she had expected.

There was light streaming in from the stained-glass windows at the front of the church. There were balconies on each side and a polished wooden floor that led them to the altar. The dark cherry-wood pews on either side held one or two people praying. It was grand in its own way, and she was happy to marry there if it meant she was the wife of Tomas here in England. Once they were married, they could leave London for his home in Dorset, and they could truly start their lives together.

Chapter Seventeen

Thomas knew that Elena was taking in her surroundings with a critical eye. Where Spain was hot and dusty at times, England was the opposite. London was dirty from all the soot of the many coal fires, and the roads were often filled with refuse and general garbage. His lodgings were on the edge of the acceptable part of town, but at the time it was more convenient as he was there very little, and the rent was fairly cheap. He regretted not having taken her to a nicer hotel instead.

His friend Lord Anthony Ashton stood on the doorstep. He had been leaning casually against the doorframe. He took one look at Thomas and extended his hand.

“By God, it is good to see you, my friend. I didn’t believe my ears when Warrington told me.” He then bowed to Elena, who was standing beside him, her eyes huge.

“Ashton, let me introduce you to my wife, Elena.”

“Mrs. Markham,” Tony said with a bow. “What a surprise. May I borrow your husband for an hour?”

“Come inside and I will tell you all about how this woman saved my life.”

“I am intrigued, but I think we should go somewhere…else.”