Page 119 of Aurelia

“That has already been the case for a while now, Aurelia.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “What about Mrs. Neel?”

“It is true she was my lover, but I have not gone to her since”—he squinted and stared up at the ceiling, as if there might be a calendar.

“I do not care when you last saw her,” she lied, but only partly. “As long as it is over.”

“Long over.”

“What about Sadie Roy?”

He laughed. “My, that is going back a few years—decades, even. And no, before you ask, her daughter is not mine. I gave Sadie my permission to say that Dora was mine because it is better to bear the Laird of the Isle’s bastard than to admit that her lover left her with a bun in the oven and no marriage lines.”

“Easier for her, perhaps.”

He kissed her lightly and regarded her with amused affection. “You are angry that my character has been besmirched.”

“I am.”

“I like that; nobody has ever defended my honor before.”

“I am entirely in earnest, Roland. It is not fair that she trades on such untruths.”

“Oh, it’s very fair, I assure you.”

The jealousy that had kindled in her belly roared to life. “What are you saying?”

“Do not be jealous of her, Aurelia, or of any woman. I have given my body often, but never before have I given my heart.”

Well.

He dropped to one knee beside the settee. “I love you, Aurelia Bellamy. Say you will make me the happiest man in Britain.”

A smile began to steal over her face, no matter how hard she tried to restrain it.

His answering grin was slow, sensual, and wicked and he raised both his eyebrows, the silky golden one and the tufted bits, too.

“Yes, Roland. I will marry you.”

He kissed her soundly and Aurelia kissed him right back. When he pulled away, he began to lift her chemise up over her thighs.

“Roland, what are you doing?”

“I thought we might celebrate.”

“Right now? In the middle of a conversation?”

“It seems a perfect time,” he said, ignoring her hands, which were trying to shove the fabric back down and losing the battle. “Why are you suddenly shy?” he asked, cutting a quick glance at her before casually parting her lower lips and lowering his gaze. “I have licked and kissed this beautiful cunt before.”

“Roland!”

He looked up, saw her scandalized expression, and laughed. “Oh, was that vulgar? But vulva is such a clinical term. Although I must say I rather like clitoris, which makes me think of a flower—or a bud, perhaps.

Aurelia gave an embarrassed laugh.

“What is it, sweetheart? You are superb at depicting anatomy. Surely you have examined your own body?”

“Well… yes, but I don’t go around talking about it.”