Page 60 of A Landscape of Love

Hart snorted with amusement, shaking his head. “Scandalous,” he murmured, trailing a fingertip down the vale between her breasts. “How shocking you are, love.”

Fidelia turned her head, staring at him and feeling such a wave of love and passion and astonishment she struggled to find the words to express herself. “Hart?”

“Yes, love?”

“I never realised. I… I never knew…”

He moved over her, gathering her in his arms and settling between her thighs and Fidelia sucked in a shocked breath as his arousal pressed intimately against her still throbbing flesh.

“I know, darling girl,” he said, smiling at her. “But that’s just the beginning. I’ve a deal more to show you yet. I think you’ll like the rest just as much. Perhaps more, even,” he added nonchalantly, sounding more than a little smug.

Fidelia let out a bark of laughter, wrapping her arms about his neck and gazing up at him, marvelling at how beautiful he was, how very wonderful, and how life could be so very generous after so many years of misery. She sobered at that thought, wondering if her lack of virginity really didn’t matter to him. In most men’s eyes she was spoiled, damaged goods, but he had never treated her as anything less than a lady. Yet she could not help but wonder.

“Hart, do you… do you really not mind that… that I…”

“No,” he said, his voice firm. “I don’t give a damn for anything that happened before you were mine, Fidelia. I wish it had been me, but it wasn’t, and if you hadn’t done what you had, you’d have married some bloody marquess or some such and I’d never had got the chance to know you. I would have minded that desperately, love, for that would have been a tragedy. Anything else is not worth a moment’s regret.”

Fidelia stroked his cheek. “You always know the exact right thing to say.”

He snorted. “I’ll remind you of that the next time I make you cross,” he said, before kissing her with such single-minded attention she hadn’t the slightest desire to say another thing.

Though she had known he would be tender, she had not expected that he would be so very careful with her, treating her as though she was the innocent she wasn’t. Except she realised now she really was, in every way that mattered, for she’d had no notion of the way two people could find such joy in each other’s touch, in the meeting of bodies designed to fit together so intimately.

At least her so-called ruination saved her the pain to be endured on most new brides’ wedding nights, and Fidelia knew nothing but wonder as he found his place inside her. Murmuring sounds of approval, Hart moved carefully, allowing her body to accept him by slow degrees as he pushed inside her. It was so different from her first experience that it almost blotted out the hated memory, replacing it with this as her original taste of intimacy. For that had been a mechanical act, and this… this was remarkable.

Kisses and caresses and soft expressions of pleasure and desire were all that existed in the hours that followed, as Hart showed her the meaning of physical love and desire until she was so lethargic she was certain she would never move again.

It was dark as they lay together, drowsy and sated, staring out at a starlit sky through the windows. Hart had assured her they were entirely hidden from view up here and so Fidelia simply wallowed in the bliss of Hart’s embrace, gazing up at a thin sickle moon on a night so filled with wonder she hardly knew what to make of it. Her husband’s hand drifted lazily up and down her side, stroking the curve of her breast before trailing back down the slope of her waist up to her hip.

“I know you can’t be truly happy until your son is with you, but… you are content, in this moment, I mean?” Hart’s voice was husky and low, heavy with the intimacies of the past hours.

Fidelia looked up at him, wondering how he could be in any doubt. “More than content,” she said, pressing a kiss to his jaw, where the first signs of stubble prickled against her lips. “Tonight has been perfect, so… so very wonderful. Thank you, my Hart,” she added in a whisper.

Hart’s eyes glittered with satisfaction as he turned her onto her back once more. Fidelia’s eyebrows rose in enquiry, rather surprised, though not in the least unwilling. “Again?” she asked, amusement lingering in the question.

He hesitated, regarding her face. “Unless…?”

“Oh, no unless, a definite yes. Please,” she added, just in case he wasn’t clear about that.

“I can’t help it,” he said, laughing softly. “I… I don’t know how I’m ever going to go back to work. I just want you. I can’t get enough. Do you mind?”

Fidelia snorted, a most unladylike sound, but he grinned so she supposed it didn’t trouble him.

“I don’t mind at all,” she said gravely, and gave herself over to his loving once more.

Chapter 17

Dear Ash,

I received your reply this morning.

I shall be brief, as I have only one thing to say.

You absolute lunatic. Are you out of your tiny mind?

―Excerpt of a letter from Mrs Vivien Lane–Fox to her twin brother, The Hon’ble Ashton Anson (children of The Right Hon’ble Silas and Aashini Anson, the Viscount and Viscountess Cavendish).

12th De Beauvoir Nurseries and Landscaping, Chelsea, London.