A Lady's Secret by Jo Beverley

Author:Jo Beverley [Beverley, Jo]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Historical Romance, Adult
ISBN: 9781410407412
Google: jK7kt5OQoAUC
Amazon: 0451224191
Barnesnoble: 0451224191
Goodreads: 2293804
Publisher: Signet
Published: 2008-04-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

P etra lay there, still against him, sweat cooling, abruptly hollow with empty dread.

Hell?

What did one do or say? Ludo had said sweet things, flattering things. She was going to be sick….

A touch startled her. Robin’s fingers in her hair, playing gently. She could interpret it as loving and satisfied, but she thought of his fingers in Coquette’s fur—offering dutiful kindness to a burdensome devotee.

She longed to thrust away from him, to run. But where was there to go? This room offered only a few feet of escape, and outside lay the deck, the sailors, and the deep, dark sea. If she stayed very still and silent, perhaps this would all go away.

The boat tossed more wildly, and cold spray shocked her skin.

“’Struth,” Robin said, scrambling over her to close and fasten the shutters.

Petra sat up, hastily rearranging her clothing, thanking God for rescue. But she was surrounded by the smell of him, of them both, of what they’d done. The last shutter thumped closed, dropping pitch darkness over them. Hell.

She sensed him sit on the opposite bench. Please don’t say anything.

“You honor me,” he said.

She swallowed and tried to make her voice practical.

“You know I wasn’t a virgin, so that was of no great moment. Though pleasant, of course.”

Silence suffocated and Petra struggled not to gasp for breath, wishing that by some magic she could be sucked somewhere far, far from here.

“You could conceive.”

“A common risk. I won’t expect you to marry me.” Practical was becoming brittle.

“Don’t you think I might wish to make a child of mine legitimate?”

Petra wished she could see his expression. “Why? This can hardly be a new risk for you.”

“There are ways to lessen the risks, none of which we used.”

Petra rested her head back against hard wood and closed her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

After another long silence he said, “I need to check on our journey.” He fumbled around for clothing. Perhaps he stepped on Coquette, for there was a yelp, then some soothing. Soothing another inconvenient female. The door opened, letting in some moonlight and a blast of damp air, then shut again.

Petra sat where she was for a while, then lay down wearily on the pad still warm from their passion, still scented in that musky, mysterious way. She fought it, but began to weep. She wept until she hurt, she wept until she ached, and then until she slipped mercifully into sleep.

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