‘What?’
She cleared her dry and sore throat. ‘Those are the names of the marshals who will be in command with Napoleon...and they are leaving tomorrow morning.’
He inhaled sharply. ‘Wellington will want to know immediately. I do not think it would be wise to leave tonight—it might cause suspicion, since we have already paid for lodging. We must leave at first light in the morning and get ahead of the army. It will take them much longer on foot and with their equipment. We should be able to beat them by a couple of days.’
Frederica sniffed and twisted her wrists. Her body flushed with an uncontrollable heat as she realised how close her plan had come to disaster.
‘Can you hold me?’ she asked in a small voice. ‘I had no idea it would be quite so awful.’
Samuel took her into his strong arms. She rested her head against his chest, trying to hold in her tears. But still they fell down her cheeks and onto his nightshirt. She shivered and he held her tighter against him.
He patted her hair and whispered, ‘No one will ever harm you again.’
Closing her eyes tightly, Frederica wanted desperately to believe him.
Chapter Twenty-One
Samuel woke up with Frederica still encircled in his arms. Her skin felt hot and flushed against his. The angry red welt on her cheek had turned into a purple bruise. He touched it gingerly, and she turned her head away from him and slept on. He watched the lace of her nightgown rise up and down. He could feel his own heart pounding inside his chest. Never before had she needed his help for anything. He was so used to viewing her as a competent minx. Not that she wasn’t very capable, but everyone needed help sometimes. And he could not remember ever seeing her scared until last night.
This trip.
Their wedding journey had been eye-opening in so many ways. He had learned so much about Frederica. He had seen her nervous, shy, scared, and vulnerable. All traits he never dreamed his indomitable wife possessed. Samuel now understood why she danced out of his reach in Brussels and made a point to flirt with other soldiers. She’d wanted him to chase her, as she had chased after him. He even supposed that she worried if she let him catch her, that he would lose interest.
There was very little chance of that.
His body was overly warm and stimulated in all sorts of ways that were most uncomfortable with a shy wife. Shaking his head, he could not help but smile. Frederica felt nervous with him. He would not have believed it possible.
Moaning, she stirred in his arms.
Samuel was not yet ready to let go. He had never felt anything like this before. He wanted to hold her for ever. Protect her. Laugh with her. Love her. Slender Billy was right. Frederica deserved to know how he felt and not just through a death letter.
But how to tell her?
She’d lowered her guard with him on the ride to Paris, but it had been firmly back in place since. Sighing, he realised that they were both very careful with their hearts.
Frederica blinked several times and rubbed her bruised face into his chest. ‘Is it morning? Should we be on our way?’
‘Not quite yet and if we leave before sunrise, it will draw the kind of attention that we don’t want. We cannot appear to be in a rush.’
She kissed his neck and then underneath his chin, making a trail of kisses to his lips. He returned her kisses gently, not wishing to scare her with the force of his own feelings. It felt so right to have her encircled in his arms, to touch her satin-like skin with his fingers, and to lose himself in her wicked mouth.
Frederica kissed him once more before nuzzling her head in the crook of his neck. ‘I want more than kisses, but I am scared to disappoint you. And I do not want you to laugh at me.’
Smiling tenderly, he caressed her cheek and then her glorious hair. ‘Why would I laugh at you?’
She covered her face with her hands, burying her head further against him. ‘At my inexperience. What if I am awkward or, even worse, bad at lovemaking?’
His body temperature rising exponentially, he gently pulled her hands away from her face and gazed into her beautiful hazel eyes. ‘What if I promise not to laugh?’
‘Stop smiling.’
He pressed his lips together in a thin line, but the edges turned upward.
‘You are still smiling.’
‘We are in bed together, Frederica,’ he said with a light laugh. ‘And you said that you wanted me to make love to you. It would be a miracle if I was not smiling.’
Shaking her head, she gritted her teeth. ‘I do not know what to do—I mean, I do know, but I have never done it before and I could not bear it if you mocked me.’