An Inadvisable Wager (The Curse of the Weatherby Ball Book 2) Eliza Lloyd (reading books for 7 year olds .TXT) 📖

She’d slept in this bed since she was eight years old. How strange to have her husband with her now. The act itself was as nebulous as a foggy morning in the hills. There were paths which one might take with confidence with the right direction but turn down the wrong one and it was impossible to find the way back. A book with instructions might have been a good idea: What a Young Woman Ought to Know About the Marriage Bed. Or maybe Things Everyone Knows But No One Speaks Of.

With her whole heart, she believed Lady Fortenay had meant to reveal all, had Nora been betrothed and married in a traditional way.

Gigi hadn’t purposefully kept her from important knowledge. Their reading had been varied. Their conversations deep. Just not about the marriage bed. Living in the country was some help, though. A few rutting sheep might provide a simple tutorial, but that only made intercourse seem like a drudge.

So, she would have to ask Carlow to explain it to her. If she didn’t burn from the embarrassment of it all. Should she just slither into bed and pull the covers to her nose?

Instead, she plumped the thin pillows and crawled into bed, settling the covers in a modest way over her lap.

If only she were Nora of the Weatherby Ball—confident, determined and out to conquer all! If only she could wear her mask and costume. Her simple seduction of words and glances had worked once. Simple country Nora wasn’t all that mysterious, and she didn’t think she’d be able to breathe through it, let alone converse in an amiable manner.

Carlow knocked on the door, then entered slowly. “Nora?”

“I’m here.”

He strolled toward the bed, then leaned a shoulder against the column post. His steady look burned her, but she refused to avert her gaze out of shyness. “I am sure I can find somewhere else to bed down tonight,” he said, glancing toward the floorboards.

“I am sure you can, but I’m right here.”

Carlow laughed. “So you are.” He removed his jacket and folded it over the back of a chair. “You’ve changed your mind about the size of the bed?”

“You can see for yourself.” She watched him intently. Such an odd sensation. Wanting him. Lusting for him. “I’m sorry we don’t have a valet to assist,” she said, watching as he took a seat in the same chair as his jacket and then reached for the back of his boot.

“You’ve offered to help do everything else. Maybe you could help me undress?”

“I, uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said.

“It’s a wonderful idea. Maybe not tonight, but just make me a promise that sometime in the near future you will. Willingly.”

“Carlow?”

“Yes, my dear,” he asked, pulling off his second boot and setting it next to the other.

“I understand the gist of what is required of me.”

“Nothing is required of you.”

“I thought…”

“Do you want me to explain it?”

“Not in a way that will humiliate me.”

“From what I know of you, you won’t be embarrassed, only consumed by an insatiable curiosity for all the details.”

“Details? It seems very straightforward.”

“The gist of it is. The details are not.” He stood and worked at the buttons on his vest. One at a time. She watched his long fingers work, then took a deep breath. Was it normal to want one’s husband? She wanted him in a way she couldn’t quite articulate, but her mouth was dry and her chest heaved. She licked her lips as he continued to undress.

“What am I to do?” she asked, her voice creaking.

He tossed his vest over his jacket and walked to his side of the bed. “May I?” he asked, before turning back the blankets. She nodded. “Do you want me to blow out the candles?”

“No. Why?”

“You might prefer the dark, that’s all.”

“Is that a metaphor for a woman’s life? Because Lady Fortenay has always said I should face every situation head on, eyes open.”

He sat, pulled one knee to the bed and leaned against the headboard. “I would say you have exceeded in that.”

She popped up and crossed her legs. “Why don’t you tell me what is going to happen and then I can be more prepared. You can skip that part about anatomy. I have had those lessons and I understand full well all the important parts.”

“Then what other questions are there?” he asked.

“That can’t be all.”

“The parts need only fit together to procreate,” he said.

She knew he was laughing at her, but she didn’t know how. “That can’t be all.”

“Because?”

“Intercourse doesn’t explain prostitutes, and it doesn’t explain ladies who run away with stable hands and it doesn’t explain poetry.”

“Actually, it explains quite a bit about each of those things.”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t explain why wives only tolerate their husbands’ advances.”

“In what drawing room did you hear that?” he asked. “Not Lady Fortenay’s?”

“No, not here. But it is true. Everyone knows that.”

“Let’s start with the premise that all married couples also have an understanding of anatomy.” Gabriel glanced to his entwined fingers. “I’m not sure I can explain.”

She was leaning toward him. “You must. How will I find out?”

“There is one thing that matters, Nora, and that is the giving of pleasure. Mutual pleasure.” He had turned again and worked one hand beneath the bedcovers, before touching her covered thigh. She gasped. “Some things are better shown.”

As his hand ascended her body, Nora stopped breathing. She quivered as his hand ran over her stomach. When his hand cupped her breast, hidden by the robe, she was ready to die. She closed her eyes, as he slowly kneaded and ran a finger over her nipple. She’d never been so aware of