The Lady's Disgrace by Callie Hutton Read Free Book Online Page A

heard Joseph leave the bed, and rustling sounds that indicated he was dressing.
    Her flesh burned as she slid the nightgown off and wiggled into her chemise. She placed her hands on her cheeks, trying to dismiss what had just happened. Already her determination to hold herself apart from him was in jeopardy. The man had barely touched her, and even now she had to fight to keep from whipping her chemise off and dragging him back to the bed to finish what he’d started.
    With a deep breath, she pulled herself together to continue dressing. She would not allow him to fluster her, to cause her to shilly-shally about how this marriage would go on. They had work to do, and allowing whatever it was he’d just done to her get in the way, would destroy her resolve.
    Holding out her stays, she considered the problem of how to lace them up. Either she could leave them off—as no lady would do—or ask her husband to help. “Joseph?”
    “Yes.” From the sound of his voice and the splashing, she assumed he was at the wash bowl.
    “Can you, er, that is, would you be so kind as to—”
    “What?”
    “I need help with my stays.” Once again her face heated as though she would burst into flames. What was the matter with her? She had never been shy or hesitant. It appeared marriage had turned her into a blathering idiot.
    “Certainly. Come out here where I can see better.”
    Clutching the garment to her chest, she stepped out from behind the dressing screen and presented her back to him. Whereupon her husband—the rector—proceeded to lace her up with all the speed and experience that she would have expected from a London rake. A bit disconcerted by that, she returned to finish dressing.
    “I will go downstairs and arrange for our breakfast,” Joseph said.
    “Thank you. I shall join you shortly.”
    She exhaled when she heard the door close. This would not do. She was a nervous wreck, and she had no idea why. This was Joseph, for heaven’s sake. She’d known him all her life. He had been her first infatuation, her brother’s best friend. Why should she be so uncomfortable with him now that they were alone?
    Perhaps it was best if she didn’t try to answer that question.
    …
    Joseph studied Abigail’s profile as their carriage drew closer to Addsby End. Earlier, when he’d awoken and realized his wife was sprawled all over him, his morning erection had grown to an agonizing size. Her soft breasts beneath her thin nightgown were tucked into his side, her pointed nipples prickling his skin.
    Curly hairs that had escaped the braid she’d fastened lay against her silky skin, moving up and down as she took in and let out air. Her plump lips were slightly parted, glistening in the morning light. He had called on all of his control to keep from bending his head and kissing those berry-colored temptations.
    Although the conversation held steady as they rode toward home, neither of them brought up her request last night, nor the position she’d found herself in this morning. He laughed to himself. For a woman who all of a sudden had developed maidenly concerns, she’d certainly seemed quite comfortable draped all over him.
    They rounded the bend in the road, and the village appeared, once again filling him with a sense of familiar comfort, and gladness that his time in London was over. If he had his way, he would never leave Addysby End. Another concern with having Abigail as a wife. Raised with the attractions, shopping, and entertainments of London, would she be satisfied with life here?
    “Oh, this is lovely, Joseph,” Abigail whispered, almost reverently, gazing out the small window. “So many times I promised myself I would ride to your village since it is only a half day from Manchester Manor, but I never seemed to take the time. I can’t believe how much I missed.” She turned to him. “It is beautiful.”
    Warmth spread through him at her admiration. The snug town was built into the side of a hill, stretching