In Compromise with the Earl by Ava MacAdams

Chapter Eighteen

The idyllic town of Bath was so far removed from London that Aphrodite fell in love with it instantly. Oswald’s townhome, Number Fourteen, Queen Square, Bath, fit the classic temple architecture of the Palladianism that was en vogue in the late seventeenth century.

Two outside footmen came and bowed. “Welcome, Earl and Countess Tennesley.”

After Oswald thanked them, Aphrodite added hers, “May I know your names?”

“Smithe, My Lady,” the youngest of the two bowed.

“Richardson, My Lady,” the other added. With another smile and a parting word, she headed into the townhouse and passed through a spacious foyer into the main hall with a single curved staircase heading to the upper tiers. Simple but elegant crystal chandeliers hung above, Aubusson runners were under her feet and elegant art rested on the walls.

They had arrived at the downside of two in the afternoon and the air was cool and windy. After greeting the butler, housekeeper and indoor staff, and accepting their congratulations on the wedding, Oswald rested a hand on the small of her back as they mounted the stairs and led her down a corridor to a massive suite of chambers, a sitting room with a set of couches, end tables and a coffee table in the middle.

Beyond it was a bedchamber with a dominant rosewood four-poster bed, with velvet hangings and matching furniture placed around the chamber. With a smile, Aphrodite touched the rich cloth. “How long have you had this townhouse?”

“Three years,” Oswald said while removing his jacket. “Won it in a card game.”

Surprised, Aphrodite’s brows lifted. “Oh, my.”

“Don’t worry,” he flashed a grin. “He has a lot of houses. It not as if I denied him his birthright.”

Taking a seat, she asked, “How many houses do you have in London or otherwise? You said your Estate controls a good number.”

Oswald unlocked a cupboard, took out a bottle of brandy and two glasses. Pouring out a finger in each, he handed one to her. “Three in London that are rented, this one in Bath, two in Virginia, America that are under the supervision of my Uncle Bartholemew. If you fancy a trip overseas, that is our lodging home.”

“Ah, lovely,” Aphrodite smiled. “I’ve always wanted to see America.”

“How about Christmastide?” he offered. “It would be a change of pace.”

Setting the glass down, she turned to the window. “Have you thought what reception we’ll get when we go back to London?”

His index finger circled the rim of his glass. “Honestly, Sweetling, I don’t care. All three papers, the Times, the Gazette and the Observer can splash my name around for all I care. Nothing much can perturbed me anymore. Why? Are you worried?”

She shook her head. “No. I don’t have much to worry about when it comes to rumors. I have heard them all before.”

“Then what is concerning you?” he asked. “And I can see it in your eyes. The hues shift from bright blue to cornflower and your brows draw together.”

“They do not,” she replied staunchly.

Instead of replying, Oswald reached out and pressed his index and middle finger on the very spot where her brows met. He smoothed them out. “Yes, they do. You may have mastered nonchalance with many others, but I am starting to know your mannerisms. What is it?”

Giving a defeated sigh, she said. “At our wedding, I overheard you and your cousin speaking, did he truly marry you and your first wife?”

“Yes, he did,” Oswald pulled away to sip his drink. “My cousin and I are close, almost brotherly. When my mother’s brother, his father died, we took him in but made sure he was provided with everything he needed. It was only after Oxford we split up.”

“I…” she paused and rubbed her arms, “will it be uncomfortable with him knowing that he used to know your late wife?”

“No,” Oswald reached out and took her hands, rubbing them with his. “Leo loved Claire like a sister, he will love you too.”

Secretly, Aphrodite doubted it, but she marshaled a smile. “I hope so. May we take a turn in the garden? It seems so lovely.”

“My pleasure,” he stood.

It did not take long to descend the stairs and exit one of the palatial French doors into the generous half-acre garden. It was late spring, only the daffodils, primrose, and crocus were out. The roses were budding again, and the trees were heavily laden with sweet blossoms. A few ancient elms lined the property line, and the grass was cut evenly over the lawn.

“It’s sublime here away from the hustle and bustle of London,” Aphrodite said as they took the walk to the small fountain in the middle. And it’s so peaceful. I confess, that London sometime makes me terribly restless with all its constant movement. It’s as if no one will take the time to just breathe.”

“I must admit, I haven’t taken time to enjoy the countryside for over two years,” Oswald said. “Have you ever been to Vauxhall Gardens?”

“No, and while I really wish to go, I stayed away because I know the rumors about the Gardens and how easily anyone who goes there can be mired in rumors about trysts and amorous rendezvous. With my father already sullying my name I decided to not add more, and moreover, I understand it can be quite dangerous.”

“For a Lady alone, yes, it is,” he replied, then quirked a brow. “Are you truly afraid of a little danger?”

She eyed him. “I did not wish to be assaulted by a ruffian.”

“Hm,” Oswald plucked off a rose. “Remind me to take you when we get back to London. I’ll take the greatest care of you in the insidious gardens.”

“Are you laughing at me?” Aphrodite narrowed her eyes.

“I am,” his lips ticked up while he reached over and cupped her cheek. She could see him reining in his passion, as he bestowed a series of gentle kisses on her lips, at the corner of her mouth, on her bottom lip, and then on her upper lip.

Gathering her in his arms, he feathered tender kisses along her jawline, down the side of her neck, and then back to her lips. She melted into him, lacing her arms around his neck while she kissed him back.

Smoothing a hand over her hair, he asked, “Shall we take this to bedchamber?”

Shuddering, Aphrodite whispered, “Yes.”

* * *

The door barely closed behind her when Oswald pressed her against it. His mouth hot and his kiss passionate, her inhibitions melted in the searing bliss. She felt when every one of the buttons pop as he undid them and felt a strange searing under her skin the more he stripped her bare.

When the dress pooled at her feet, she repaid in kind smoothing her hands over his chest while slipping the fine lawn shirt off. His eyes were hooded and dark with sensual promise; it was all Aphrodite could do not to shudder under his heated gaze.

Anticipation was a thick knot in the middle of her chest, but she knew that Oswald would take care of her. When he grabbed her hip and nipped her earlobe, Aphrodite gasped out a sound halfway between a moan and a whimper and gained a rumbled growl from Oswald in exchange.

Impatient with the layers that separated them, he did away with the clothes between them and after she slipped into the bed, he followed. As he covered her body with his rigid bulk, she slipped her hands into his hair while he kissed a burning stripe down her neck.

A large, callused hand cupped her breast, the silken weight fitting perfectly in his palm, a thumb, coasting over the budded nipple. Her back arched when his mouth, hot and wet, closed over the other and sucked her breast into a ravenous inferno.

“O…Oswald—” Hot, smooth hands swept over her thighs, as he coasted his tongue down the valley of her breasts and over her belly, heading to the valley of her thighs. Aphrodite sunk her fingers into his thick hair while he kissed every inch of her body.

Palming her hips, he buried his face deeper, using his lips and tongue to pleasure her. He tongued her folds and her nub sent pleasure hurtling through her like a lightning strike. He worked two fingers inside her while fitting his tongue over the button of her pleasure and sucked.

Aphrodite felt herself clutch at his pumping touch, and when she felt his hot breath against him, she was lost in the raw pleasure. He suckled her pearl, and she bucked against his mouth. Heat, lush and wet raced up her spine, incinerating her thoughts as she shouted her pleasure.

As the tremors shuddered through her body, Aphrodite smiled to herself in post-orgasmic bliss. Her hand stroked through his hair while she felt Oswald kiss her inner thighs. Cupping a hand around his neck, she gently tugged him to her and shared a languorous but heated kiss.

“Your turn,” she whispered.

Maneuvering him on his back, she kissed his neck, tasting the faint salt and musky cologne on his skin, sliding her tongue over him and biting gently as she explored his neck, nipped at his collarbones, and skimmed the breadth of his shoulders with her hands.

Satisfied, she ran a hand down his ridged abdomen, stroking her fingertips through the thin hair that ran from under his belly button to his manhood, spreading her fingers wide as she moved lower down to grip the root of his shaft.

“Aphrodite,” he said in a hoarse tone.

She tightened her grip on him. “Shall I stop?”

“I love how you touch me,” he murmured while lifting her to his chest. “But I have something better in mind.”

Aphrodite let herself surrender to the kiss, his soft lips meeting hers as he pulled her against him, her full breasts pressed into his muscular chest. His tongue made its way into her mouth, and she eagerly kissed him back, soft moans escaping her throat as his tongue dueled with hers.

His thumbs strummed her nipples as they traded places She struggled against him. “Oswald, I need—”

“I know what you need.” His eyes had gone dark, burning up with desire. A moan left her as his finger traced her opening “You ache here, don't you?”

“Y…yes.”

His finger left her, replaced by a broader, thicker length. “Breathe, Sweetling. It gets easier.”

The head of his member notched against her opening, setting off shocking waves of pleasure. Instinctively she knew that pure bliss lay inches away but there was going to be some pain first. Her back bowed a little and her fingers dug into his shoulder as his engorged tip burrowed against her entrance.

He went slowly allowing her body to adjust to his with tortured minutes of delicious stretching. The hot, thick glide of him inside her body had her breath catching, then he laid his mouth over her moments before his hips snapped in.

Tears spilled from her eyes as the pain started to ebb inside her. Oswald had pulled away to kiss her chin, her cheek, her ear. “Breathe, Sweetling, it’ll pass. If it’s too much, I’ll stop—”

“No,” Aphrodite stopped him, while dropping a kiss on his jaw. With his body caging her, with him inside her, she felt filled so completely that her heart took on another rhythm. “Don’t stop. I want this, I want you.”

Wrapping her legs around his lean hips, she encouraged him. “Make love to me.”

“My pleasure, Sweetling,” he promised. Gently, Oswald began to move inside her. Slow, steady thrusts that peeled away her last shreds of innocence and replaced it with utter bliss.

His dark eyes left her face only when he ducked his head to kiss her neck or suckle her nipples. A rich flush spread across his face and the force and pace of his lovemaking intensified.

She moaned as the sensations built, different and more intense than before. Seeking relief from the tension, she instinctively raised her hips to meet his rhythm. He was pounding into her, harder, deeper, her breasts swaying from the power of each thrust while white hot heat snaked up her spine.

Suddenly, his plunge nudged a place deep inside her and Aphrodite’s vision blurred; a dam burst open within her. She heard her own muffled scream as she tipped over the edge again, her body clenching on his shaft, the sharp bite of bliss almost too much to bear.

“Come again, Aphrodite,” he grated out, his grip firm on her leg, while his hips pounded into her. “Come with me this time.”

Digging her fingers into him, her back arched and she moaned as the scintillating sensations built, different and so much more intense and sharper than before. She raised her hips to meet his rhythm while her blood quickened and the inferno inside grew.

“Oh, Oswald, yes—” The first spasm of capitulation had her back snapping off the bed, he pounded into her, her passage a vice grip around his length. Heat sizzled down his spine and exploded from his stones, his seed boiling up his shaft and flooding her passage while the rapture stole her senses.

After their breaths evened out, he slipped out of the bed, and came back with a damp cloth, wiped off the excess sweat from her and did away with it. When he slipped back beside her, Aphrodite tilted her lips up for a kiss.

Later, as they lay on their sides, facing each other, he skimmed his knuckles against her jaw. “I'd say that was worth the wait, wasn’t it?” he murmured.

“Very much so,” she replied, tracing circles on his chest. “You’re quite skilled. I never thought I could…twice.”

His hand trailed over her arm. “It happens, most women can, well if you have a partner that knows what he’s doing.” Looking into his wife’s sated eyes, he murmured, “And I love how naturally you respond.”

Resting her hand over his heart, she smiled, “I cannot take all the praise. You woke something in me.”

“As you’ve done to me,” Oswald replied, sliding a hand into her hair. “As turbulent as our start was, something good will come from this.”

“Hmm,” she replied. “You mean children?”

He tensed a little. “That too, but I mean us, our connection. It’s not as stained as I thought it would be. We understand each other, well to a degree. I suppose the tests will come as the days go by.”

“Not anytime soon, I hope,” her words slurred as she drifted off to sleep. “I want us to stay this way for a while.”

Glancing at her lax face and the sweep of her lashes on her cheek, he smiled, “Me too, Sweetling. Me too.”

* * *

Waking up with Oswald still asleep had Aphrodite treasuring those intimate moments. He looked so unbothered asleep, the tight knot in his brows was gone and so was the almost permanent downtick of his lips. He did not look haunted by the events of the past nor did he look apprehensive about the future.

Reaching out, she lightly moved his hair from his eyes. He didn’t stir from her touch, and she took the time to admire him more. Thinking about the girlhood crush she had on him so many years ago paled in comparison to what she felt now.

Knowing what she knew about him now, the tortured soul behind a handsome mask, Aphrodite had to smile wanly. It showed that one should never go off looks alone, it was best to know the soul too.

I’m not a fool, I know there are things, important things, that we have said, but we have a lifetime ahead of us to say them all.

“It’s oddly strange to know that you are staring at me in my sleep,” he murmured. “It’s even odder that I like it.” Shifting to face her, his eyes were so peaceful half-asleep, that a strange feeling of contentment rested on her heart. If only the world outside did not exist, and they could live in the world they had created.

“You love being admired?”

He reached out and tugged her to rest on his chest. Her left leg slotted between his thighs, and she felt the rampart erection he had. “No,” Oswald replied, “I only like when you do it.”

“I adore you,” she replied. “I don’t care that you are not the effusive type.”

Relieved at the teasing, loving sparkle in her eyes, he said, “I’m not. Were you expecting poems on your pillow? If you are, I happen to know a Marquess who has the gift of the bard. I can recommend him—”

“Oh, shut it,” she laughed. “I do not want some poet in my life. I have never been fond of couplets, anyway.”

His hands slid up her back. “Couplets, hm? How about Tercets and Quatrains?”

Narrowing her eyes she said, “Stop being smug.”

Laughing, Oswald switched their places and Aphrodite wrapped her legs around him while he littered her body with kisses. “We have only one plan for today,” he said while palming her breast. “We dance at the Assembly Rooms tonight. Until then—”

She grinned and tugged his head down. “Until then.”