She reached up to smooth her hands over the bunched muscles of his shoulders, kissing his throat, his jaw, the corner of his mouth.
‘Tease,’ he growled, turning his head to take control of the kiss.
Then, just when she was beginning to think they were going to make love in front of the fire, he surged to his feet, swept her into his arms and carried her into her bedroom where he disposed of her clothing with an efficiency born of much practice.
Midge had not had to send for Pansy to brush her hair, or unhook her gowns or untie her stay laces since the night she had got married. Monty was extremely keen to perform all these services for her. And get her into bed.
But not to stay there, once he had got what he wanted.
She knew she ought not to let his reluctance to spend an entire night with her bother her so much. She told herself that he was just not the kind of man who would want to hold anyone close all night. His mother, who her aunt had said was a cold, proud woman, had abandoned him at Shevington by all accounts. And then his father had packed him off to school, while keeping his older brother close. Experiencing that kind of rejection as a little boy must have made him harden himself.
Army life, too, must have made him become even more self-sufficient. A soft-hearted man would have been in agony watching friends and comrades dying all around.
But she just could not shake the yearning to get closer to him. To break through all those barriers he had built around himself, and become, well, if not the love of his life, then at least his bosom friend.
He was beginning to open up to her, about his past and what had made him the way he was.
She had also heard, from Pansy, who’d got it from Cobbett, who had got it from a parlour maid who’d been just outside the door, that Monty had demanded that his father show her more respect. There had been a heated argument, apparently, but the outcome was that the earl did now accord her the common civilities any gentleman should extend to a lady.
All that had to mean something, did it not?
Summoning up every ounce of courage she possessed, she waited until Monty had stripped her completely naked, and was backing her towards the bed, before ducking out of his embrace.
‘Where are you going?’ he asked, mystified, as she darted over to her bedroom door.
She looked at him coyly over one shoulder. ‘I should like to try something different, tonight.’ She crooked her finger, beckoning him to follow her as she sashayed across the sitting room.
‘My God, Midge,’ he croaked, tugging off his cravat and tossing it aside as he stalked after her. ‘What you do to me!’
She opened his bedroom door, and nervously entered his domain for the first time since their marriage. She could hardly believe she had brought herself to walk around stark naked, but she had been sure that only acting so brazenly would excite her husband to the point where he would not argue about the spot she had chosen for their coupling.
What happened afterwards would be another matter. She knew that she might still be wanting more from him than he was willing to give. But she just missed him so much every second they were apart, waking or sleeping.
The worst that could happen would be that he would carry her back to her own bed once she had fallen asleep, and she would wake alone, as she had done every morning since she had married him, with the feeling that yet again, she was not quite good enough. That she was not the kind of woman a man would want to hold close to his heart all night.
He caught up with her, put his arms round her and drew her back against his chest. On the way through the sitting room, he had got rid of his shirt. She flexed her spine against the hair-roughened skin, butting her head up against his chin like a cat, as she gazed round his room.
There were no candles lit, but an enormous fire blazed in the hearth.
‘It is—’ she gasped, as he nuzzled the nape of her neck ‘—very warm in here.’
‘And it is about to get even hotter,’ he promised, taking one breast in each hand and squeezing rhythmically.
For the next few minutes, she lost the power of rational thought entirely as she gave herself up to Monty’s ministrations. And it was not until a long time later, when they lay, sated and panting on his bed, that she reflected, with great relief, that he had not seemed to mind her invading his sanctuary at all.
Perhaps all she had needed to do was ask. He was the product of a loveless marriage. Perhaps it had simply not occurred to him that a wife might want to sleep in her husband’s bed.
‘May I stay?’ she murmured drowsily, as he tucked her into the crook of his arm.
‘Hmm?’ He was dozing himself, now.
She raised herself on one arm, propping herself on his chest so that she could look into his eyes.
‘All night. I want to stay here. With you. May I?’
‘Not a good idea,’ he grunted, reaching up and twirling a strand of her hair round his forefinger. ‘I am bound to disturb you.’
‘What do you mean?’
He sighed, and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. When he opened them, his expression was defensive. ‘I do not sleep much these days. Not for more than a few minutes at a time, unless I have all the windows wide-open. Which is why my valet insists on building up such an enormous fire every night.’
‘Oh,’ said Midge thoughtfully. Whenever Rick had come home on furlough, he always wanted to keep the windows wide-open at night as well. It had caused no end of arguments with his brothers. Often, she would come down in the mornings to find him rolled up in his greatcoat, on the hearthrug in the parlour, with an empty brandy bottle at his side.
‘Do you have nightmares?’ she asked softly.
‘Not so much now, as when I first got back to England,’ he admitted, looking downright uncomfortable.
She lay down, with her head on his chest, and he wrapped both arms round her. Rick had always denied having nightmares too, even though she had heard him crying out in his sleep. Men hated anyone seeing they had any kind of problem that might be construed as a weakness.
‘You might not have any if I stay with you,’ she offered tentatively.
He chuckled. ‘You will freeze in here, once I open the windows.’
‘No, I won’t,’ she declared stubbornly. ‘Not with you to keep me warm. And not if we have plenty of blankets. Please, Monty, let me stay. What harm can it do?’
‘If it means so much to you,’ he said with a shrug, then set about rearranging the blankets so that most of them covered her.
She watched his silhouette, backlit by the firelight as he crossed the room and began systematically to fling open all the windows. And she sighed with pure contentment. He had not been leaving her bed every night because he did not care about her. Quite the reverse! He was attempting to be considerate.
It was almost as if he was trying to make this marriage as real as it could be, under the circumstances. What more could she ask for?
It was light when he carried her back to her bed. And as he set her down, she noted that he was fully dressed.
‘I did not think you would want my valet to come in upon you in that state,’ he said, covering her naked body with a sheet. Midge sleepily returned his kiss, rolled over and shut her eyes. Things could only get better from now on. He cared about her welfare. He really did. He had stood up to his father on her behalf and was beginning to talk to her as though her opinion mattered.
Her day followed its usual pattern. Though the sun shone brighter, the colours of the spring flowers were deeper, and she had far more energy, now those niggling fears over Monty’s feelings towards