On his way back into the abbey from a ride with Lord Quinton and Sir Jonas Buchannan, Lodge Veazey caught a glimpse of his wife scurrying from the drawing room and up the stairs as though the hounds of hell were at her heels.
Sir Jonas stopped in his tracks and faced him. “Is something amiss with your wife?”
Apart from the fact that she was a bit too puritanical for his base, lustful urges? But Lodge couldn’t very well voice such a thing before anyone else. It wouldn’t do. He loved her too much to cause her such discomfort, and if anything was bound to cause her instant mortification, that would certainly do it.
He frowned. “I suppose I’ll have to follow her up to see.”
“ We’ll see you later then, for some Vingt-et-un,” Quin said. At his nod, the two left him, heading for the drawing room Audrey had just vacated.
Could she be ill? Lodge tried to imagine what else might have caused her to run off in such obvious distress, but nothing came to mind. Resigning himself to go and discover the truth for himself, he squared his shoulders and followed her path toward the grand stairs in the front of the abbey.
Just as Quin and Jonas slipped into the drawing room, the bastard Holbrook popped his head out. “Chasing after your wife?” he drawled, crossing his arms lazily over his chest and leaning against a column.
Lodge narrowed his eyes at the blackguard. “What would you know of it? I swear to you, you bloody, lecherous cur, if you’ve done something-”
“ Relax, Veazey. I’ve done you a favor. You can thank me later.”
More likely he’d be drawing the damned scoundrel’s cork later-if not issuing a challenge. But not right now. He needed to get up to Audrey-to discover for himself just how badly Holbrook had damaged her. Nothing with Holbrook’s involvement could bode well.
Taking the stairs two at a time, Lodge called out over his shoulder, “I’ll deal with you later, Holbrook.”
The mongrel had the nerve to let out a snort of disdain. Lodge forced himself to continue up to his wife and to ignore Holbrook-at least for the time being. Holbrook could wait, but Audrey could not.
He threw back the door when he reached their rooms. She wasn’t in the sitting room between their separate chambers, so Lodge knocked on the door of her private chamber. No answer. He knocked again, louder this time, but still she didn’t respond.
Blast, this might be worse than he’d initially feared. He’d rip Holbrook’s arms from his body when he discovered what the rogue had done to upset his wife so fully.
“ Audrey,” he said, pushing her door open-but then he stopped. She wasn’t in there.
Good God, where was she? Had she run off somewhere else? His stomach dropped to his toes when the thought. If Holbrook ran into Audrey before Lodge did…
He couldn’t allow himself to think that way. What if was a dangerous game to play. Pulling the door to her chamber closed behind him, he turned to go search for her, but drew up short. Audrey stood across the sitting room from him, tears in her eyes, just inside the now open door to his chamber.
Lodge started to cross to her in a rush, a question on his lips that he couldn’t seem to voice. Before he made it halfway across the room, however, she asked a question of her own.
“ Am I squeamish?” Audrey asked of him.
He slid to a stop, his jaw hanging agape.
“ Am I?” she pressed, her brown eyes earnest and pained. “Am I prudish? Am I-am I cold when we make love?”
Lodge dragged a hand through his hair. “What brought this on?”
“ Does it matter?” A single tear slipped down Audrey’s cheek and she dashed it away impatiently. When he still didn’t answer after a few moments, she stamped her foot against the Parquet flooring. “Answer me, Lodge.”
This little fit of pique from his wife was as intoxicating to him as watching her find pleasure beneath him. Perhaps he did have a reason to thank Holbrook, after all. Of course, the final outcome of all of this had yet to be determined.
Lodge had the distinct impression that he’d better tread carefully in how he chose to answer his wife’s questions. “You’re not cold. But you aren’t very adventurous, either.”
Audrey’s mouth fell open as if she intended to issue him a rebuttal, but then snapped closed again. She crossed her arms over her chest in a manner which lifted her breasts in a decidedly alluring manner, though he doubted she had any idea what effect she was having on him at the moment. Again, she started to respond, but then pressed her lips together.
Damn, this was awkward. Perhaps drawing Holbrook’s cork would be the appropriate response, after all.
“ Do you wish for me to be more adventurous?” she whispered after long moments of crackling silence between them.
God, did he ever. His chest filled to the brim with air, which he let out slowly through his nostrils. He couldn’t botch this. Not again. “Yes.” Lodge stared into her eyes, watching the turmoil of warring emotions filter through them. He wasn’t certain she’d ever respond.
Finally, after the most torturously long period of his wife’s uncommunicativeness he could ever remember experiencing, Audrey nodded. Christ what did that mean? He was hesitant to attempt to interpret it on his own. He knew what he wanted it to mean, but whether it actually meant that or not was another story entirely.
Then her tongue darted out and licked her lips and Lodge had to stifle a groan. His lovely, little wife had no idea how she drove him mad with need.
Audrey locked her gaze on him and moved forward, until she was almost close enough for him to touch. “Teach me.”