on the bed beside her, lifting her to help her out of the satin robe so that she lay naked amongst the sheets. Then he bent his head and began to kiss her breasts, caressing them with the tip of his tongue so that her nipples peaked and hardened. Lying beside her, he stroked the smooth arch of her back as he pulled her towards him. His hand moved down her thigh as he caressed and fondled her, his lips seeking hers in a long hungry kiss.
Lucinda did not flinch from him, though she did not reach out to caress him in return. Justin longed for her to touch and stroke him as he stroked her, but she lay quiescent, trembling a little in his arms as he loved her, though once or twice her lips parted on a sigh.
When his hand moved between her thighs she stilled, her eyes opening. He saw the fear she was trying to hide and he kissed her, moving his fingers slowly, gently, giving her time to discover that a man’s intimate touch could be pleasant rather than a humiliating punishment. Gradually, she relaxed again, a little sighing moan leaving her lips.
Lucinda would not deny him if he took her now, but despite his hunger and the burning need in his loins, Justin knew that if he took their loving all the way that night he might lose something precious. He wanted her to be eager for his touch and he suspected that she was nervous, steeling herself for what was to come, though determined not to refuse him. In his haste to make love to her he had neglected to consider her feelings sufficiently. Because of what had happened to Lucinda when she was sixteen he must take great care not to hurt her.
‘I believe we shall need a little longer to know each other,’ he said. ‘Tonight I shall pleasure you, but I shall not enter you, Lucinda. You must learn to trust me and welcome my touch before we become truly one.’
‘I do trust you,’ she said and pressed her face against his chest. ‘I’m sorry if I am a disappointment to you, Justin.’
‘Hush, my sweet. Do not weep. Let me show you that there is pleasure in loving and many ways to please the one you love.’
Lucinda lay looking up at him with wide eyes as he bent his head and began to kiss and caress her with tongue and lips and the sensitive tips of his fingers. As Justin kissed her breasts, her navel, licking delicately at the tender flesh between her thighs, and then the most secret centre of her femininity, she quivered and trembled, giving a little moaning cry. Yet still her hands lay unmoving by her sides and she did not touch him.
As she lay trembling in his arms, he saw tears on her cheeks.
‘Forgive me if I have distressed you. I wanted only to show you that it is not usually the way it was for you that night. I wanted to teach you how to find pleasure in the marriage bed.’
‘I wish I could be the shy virgin bride you wanted,’ she said in a muffled voice, her face against his shoulder. ‘I must be such a disappointment to you.’
‘No, my love, you are not,’ he said and drew her close to him, stroking her back. ‘Hush, Lucinda, do not weep. I am sorry. I should have waited until you were ready.’
‘I shall forget,’ she vowed, her words distorted because she had buried into his side like a little kitten seeking comfort. ‘I shall make you proud of me. I shall learn to be the wife you need.’
‘Go to sleep,’ he said and kissed her hair. ‘We shall do much better when you are used to me.’
Lucinda lay still beside him and after a while realised that he was sleeping. He had one arm over her, holding her to him, and she found that comforting, but she was afraid she had let him down yet again. Justin had been kind, but he needed more from her. Something she had not known how to give.
His kisses and his touch had made her feel that she wanted him to love her, but then she’d lain like a block of wood not knowing how to respond. Her father had called her a shameless hussy and her grandmother had ridiculed and beaten her for showing any emotion other than contrition.
Justin had been gentle and patient with her that night, but she knew he’d wanted something more from her. His touch had made her cry out, giving her an exquisite pleasure, but she had given him little in return. She sincerely wished to be a good wife and please him in all ways, but something inside her had held back, perhaps because she feared to be hurt, not so much physically but in other ways.
She loved Justin, wanted him to love her, but she knew she could not measure up to his high standards. He expected so much of her and she had failed him in every way.
If he discovered that she had lied to him about her daughter, if he knew that she had been visiting her daughter in the woods or guessed what she meant to do now, he would be so angry.
Lucinda lay sleepless as the first rays of dawn penetrated the crack in the curtains. It might be better if she took Angela and ran away again. Surely Justin would be relieved to be rid of a wife who could never be what he wanted? He might be angry or hurt for a time, but then he would be glad she’d gone; he would divorce her and marry again.
A little voice inside her urged her to leave before it was too late and her husband discovered what a wretch she was, yet she could not bear to leave him. She bent over him as he slept, her fingers itching to stroke his body as he had stroked hers. She had longed to touch him, to kiss him and tangle her legs about him as he gave her pleasure, but she was afraid that he might think her wanton. If she showed desire and need, Justin might think she was shameless, as her father had called her.
It might have been better had they never met. Tears trickled down her cheeks. She loved the man she had married and, as he kissed and caressed her so tenderly, giving so much and taking nothing, she had felt that he was once more that man. Her guilt at deceiving him was sharp. Justin did not deserve to be cheated and lied to—and that was what she was doing by bringing her bastard into his house.
If he discovered the truth, he would never forgive her.
Lucinda crept from the bed and went into the dressing room, where she put on a simple gown that fastened in front and needed no assistance from her maid. She looked back at Justin, who was still sleeping as she left the room, closing the door carefully behind her.
Trying not to feel guilty, Lucinda put her regrets from her mind. She must fetch Angela and Nanny before most of the servants were up and about. Once they were installed in the attics Alice could tell people that the child was Lucinda’s cousin’s. In time Justin might discover what she’d done, but perhaps he would believe the story.
‘She seemed a little better last night,’ Nanny said. ‘It was warmer, of course. I think once she is in a dry place she will soon begin to thrive. She has already begun to fill out, Lucinda—it is just her chest. The damp of this cottage does not suit her.’
‘The attic rooms I have found for you are warm and dry. When the nights are cold, perhaps I can move you into the nursery where you can have a fire.’
Nanny frowned at her. ‘You have not told your husband. Do you not think he will be angry when he discovers what you’ve hidden from him?’
‘Yes, I fear he may. It may be that we shall have to leave Avonlea and find somewhere else to live, but then we shall look for a small town and I shall take up the trade of seamstress. Justin has given me a generous allowance each month since our marriage, which is paid into a bank and I have hardly touched. I dare say he would not ask me to return it if we separated.’
Nanny shook her head doubtfully. ‘This is not like you, Lucinda. You have always been honest and candid in your dealings with others. I know you care for this man. It might break your heart to leave him.’
‘Would
