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With the tremors still wracking her sated body, he groaned and pulled himself free. But, as mindless with pleasure as she was, she could not think of him finding release alone just then. Immediately she was there, pushing him onto his back, replacing his hand with her own. She worked her fingers over his slick member, squeezing the thick shaft, dragging her fingers over the head.
“Margery,” he moaned. And she suddenly wished she could see him finding his release, for it would have been a beautiful sight. Instead she strained to see him in the shadows, watching with hungry eyes as he threw his head back against the pillows, his hands gripping the sheets beneath him. Suddenly he covered his mouth with a hand, his muffled shout nevertheless ringing through the dark room as he found completion.
Grabbing a towel, she cleaned them both before curling against his chest. His arms came around her, his grip on her tight.
“Margery,” he managed, his breathing ragged. “My God, Margery—that was—my God—”
She smiled, listening to his heart galloping beneath her ear, a perfect accompaniment to her own. Despite the racing of her heart, a wonderful lethargy had taken over her. Her body felt sated as it had not in too long. “Yes it was,” she murmured with feeling.
“I’ve never—that is, I never imagined—”
Suddenly he stilled, then shifted, pulling back to look down at her. His eyes glittered in the faint orange glow from the banked fire. “Did you—that is, are you—?”
Her smile widened. Of course he was concerned for her own pleasure, being the utterly wonderful man he was. “Oh, yes, Daniel.”
He released a relieved breath, relaxing beneath her. They lay in silence for some time, as their breathing returned to normal, as their hearts slowed. Exhaustion dragged down on Margery then. Her eyes grew heavy, the peace of such a moment, with Daniel’s strong arm secure about her and the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her head, lulling her closer to slumber. Just as she was about to drift over the edge, however, his hesitant voice rumbled in her ear.
“I don’t suppose you would wish to repeat that, would you?”
And suddenly she was wide awake, desire—somehow even more potent than before—coursing through her. In answer she rose over him, taking his lips in a kiss. And there was no room for talk, only sensation, and pleasure, long into the night.
Chapter 14
Margery wasn’t certain what she’d expected to happen the following morning. Whatever possibilities might have been swirling about in her mind, however, she certainly didn’t expect to receive an urgent missive from Swallowhill before she’d even had her morning chocolate.
She rushed to her grandmother’s room, the letter held tight in her hand, fear and joy and anticipation making her heart gallop like mad in her chest. “Gran,” she said as she burst through the door. “I’ve been called to Swallowhill.”
Gran, already sitting up in bed and accepting a plate of toast from Miss Denby, promptly dropped it. Perfect points of browned and buttered bread fell to the sheets, but she didn’t pay it the least mind. One hand flew to her neck. “Clara?”
Margery rushed forward to hand the letter over with trembling fingers. “Not yet,” she managed. “But soon. Quincy is asking for me to be there for her. Though I rather think he’ll need the distraction more than Clara will need my help. She has Phoebe and the midwife and the physician, after all. And Lenora has been summoned as well.”
“Pish,” Gran said, scowling at Miss Denby as she attempted to clean up the mess of toast and crumbs, all the while fending off Mouse as he tried to reach the treat. “Quincy will have Peter and Oswin on hand. You go help that cousin of yours birth her child.” She grinned, her excitement plain to see. “And give it a kiss from me.”
Margery couldn’t help but grin back. “I will, Gran.” She kissed the older woman on the cheek before spinning about and rushing down the hall. So immersed was she in what had to be done, however, that she didn’t immediately see the very large figure emerging from a room just ahead of her.
“Mrs. Kitteridge.”
There wasn’t much that could have stopped her just then. Daniel’s voice, however, was one of them. She skidded to a halt, her breath leaving her as she took him in. His hair was carefully brushed, his clothes just so. He looked no different from how he had yesterday.
Yet there was something different all the same. She felt it deep in her belly, this new knowledge of him. And he felt it, too, if the quiet way he sucked in his breath when their eyes met was any indication.
“Your Grace,” she whispered. “Good morning.”
“It is,” he whispered back, then swallowed hard. “That is, good morning to you as well.”
“Did you sleep well?” It was inane, really, to ask him that. She knew very well he hadn’t. At least not before he’d left her bed just a few short hours ago. Yet she found she was loath to leave him just then.
A small, lopsided smile played about his lips. “I did not. And yet I’m surprisingly rested.”
Her gaze snagged on that smile, tracing the contours of his lips. Remembering them on her skin last night. “Are you?” she murmured.
“Oh, yes.” His voice was deep and vibrated through her in a delicious way.
Suddenly a commotion behind her. And then Miss Denby was at her side. “Lady Tesh bid me to give you these,” she said, pressing something wrapped in a snowy handkerchief into Margery’s hands. “Scones from her breakfast tray, for the journey. Said you could eat them in the carriage. Your Grace,” she quipped with a bright smile, dipping into a curtsy before hurrying back to her employer’s room.
But Daniel appeared not to acknowledge her departure. “Journey?”
“Goodness, yes. Please forgive me. My cousin Clara has need of me; it’s most urgent.” Her mind blessedly back on track, she made to dart around him. His voice, however, stopped her again.
