A Lady's Guide to Courtship

XLI. A Lady's Guide to Life

Perhaps they could push their grandmother to spill more about the Town later.

Or would their grandfather be willing to tell a tale?

Well, it would not hurt to try, would it?

*****

Ysabella opened one eye with a frown. She was awakened by the heavy weight on her midriff.

But it merely took her a moment to realize it was her husband's arm wrapped around her waist. She stretched and quietly yawned.

Wakefield groaned against her neck and she smiled at the tingling sensation it sent down to her fingertips and toes.

"It is too early to rise, little one," her husband murmured against her skin. His hand unwound around her, his palm caressing her naked hip under the covers.

Ysabella suddenly felt the warmth of his touch spread out and she turned to snuggle closer, wrapping one leg over his. "Should we do something else then?" she croaked, lightly biting his shoulder.

"Hmm," he said, mouth traveling to her jaw.

His hand rested between her legs and Ysabella's hips hitched. "Now?" she wickedly suggested but groaned in frustration when he removed his hand. It travelled back up to the underside of her breast. "William," she started to protest but gasped in surprise when her husband swiftly pushed her to lie on her back and he was suddenly on top of her, his erection pressing into her.

"Did I not tell you it would be wonderful?" he asked as he slowly moved, slowly burying himself in her warmth.

Ysabella could not help but groan and roll her eyes. "Do you have to say it every single time?" she snapped, her cheeks flushed, her thoughts slowly drifting away as their bodies moved.

Her husband's hungry mouth devoured her, her question forgotten.

Having him in bed was utterly wonderful. It was heavenly.

But to be with him outside the privacy of their chambers was equally rewarding as well.

Never did she have to suffer a moment of boredom.

Most often than not, he would feed her childish fantasies of fairy tales. And when the moments came that he rejected to do so, he would drag her somewhere and prove they could be far better.

Nearly a few hours later, or forever if Ysabella would allow her mind to do the counting, Wakefield rang for breakfast and helped her dress, delaying the process by stealing kisses.

"Emma will be calling for tea this afternoon," she told him after breakfast.

"And I assume Mrs Beagle is still missing?"

"Oh, she came back two days ago. Did I not tell you?"

Her husband scoffed. "I would have remembered if I could remember how many times your cat has ran away and returned, darling."

"But do admit that you nearly dragged me around the dangerous alleys in Haram when you thought you saw a black cat."

"I did, did I not?"

"By the by," Ysabella said, "would you join us later?"

"Will your sister promise not to talk more about Mr. Jones and her theories?"

Ysabella chuckled. "No, of course not, dear husband. But I do love hearing her theories. They are quite convincing, see?"

Wakefield turned to face her. "I will join you later."

"You will love Mr. Jones," she promised. "Simply have an open mind."

"I do not believe that a myth about a man who supposedly came from aboveground would interest me greatly. I do like where I am now," he said, walking up to her. He cupped her cheeks with both hands. "I would not ask for another place than here."