A Substitute Wife for the Prizefighter: A Victorian Romance by Alice Coldbreath

Author:Alice Coldbreath [Coldbreath, Alice]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-12-29T18:30:00+00:00

15

Benedict hastily dumped the used washing water out of the basin and returned to the wagon. He wasn’t leaving Lizzie time to undress tonight. They’d both visited the field, checked on the dog, and washed in cold water. As he pulled the door shut behind him, Lizzie was bunching up her stiffened petticoat and struggling to stuff it into the chest. In three strides, he was beside her, closing the lid on the cumbersome undergarment.

“Thanks,” Lizzie puffed and sat on the edge of the mattress to draw off her stockings.

Benedict watched her as he stripped down to his long underwear. He drew off his vest and joined her on the bed, bare chested. When he knelt behind her, reaching for the fastenings at the front of her corset, Lizzie looked back over her shoulder.

“Thank you,” she said simply as he unhooked the row of fastenings.

“My pleasure. Let down your hair.”

Lizzie reached up and began drawing out the pins and silk flowers, arranging them in a neat pile atop the trunk.

He draped her stays over the top of the trunk and ran his hands down her sides which were clad now only in a thin chemise. “She emerges from her chrysalis,” he murmured, and Lizzie gave a gurgle of laughter.

“I don’t have any wings,” she pointed out. “I emerge just as much as caterpillar as ever.”

“A very captivating caterpillar,” he muttered, kissing the side of her neck. “You don’t need wings to captivate me, Lizzie.”

He heard the hitch in her breathing. “Captivate you? You don’t have to say those things, you know,” she said in a constrained voice. “I know I’m not beautiful.”

He frowned, drawing back his head. “I say it because I want to, no other reason.” He turned her about and pressed her back down onto the mattress, running his hands over the slight swell of her breasts. “Let’s take this off,” he whispered, tugging at her chemise.

Lizzie extended her arms above her head, and he pulled it up over head. Gazing down at her, he found himself short of breath. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” he reminded her huskily. It was true, he did remember a time when he had thought her features sharp and plain and her coloring pale and drab in her severe gowns. Now, though, he found her high cheekbones, pointy chin, and little mouth delicate and pleasing. The fact she blushed so easily enchanted him. “You should see yourself right now.”

She met his gaze, her own questioning. “Do I display to advantage, half-clothed, then?” she asked doubtfully, glancing down her slender body, now clad only in plain white cotton drawers.

“God, yes,” he said thickly and placed his hand on her belly. He contemplated a moment the picture his large tanned hand made against her flat stomach. When she shivered, he moved over her, covering her with his much larger body. “Cold?”

“A little.”

Strange, he felt like he was on fire. Drawing the bedclothes up about them, he wrapped his body about her. “Better?”

“I’m returning to my cocoon,” she joked.

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