Lessons in Pleasure Read Free Page A

Sure to make her wet and ease his way. But stroking the little pearl that made other women scream had only made Sarah a bit more relaxed.
    Until last night.
    Shifting, James looked again toward the open doorway, but she wasn’t there. A quick glance at his watch revealed the sad truth that he could tarry no longer. A meeting with this new incarnation of his wife would have to wait.
    “Damn,” he cursed as he folded his paper and snapped it shut. He’d wanted to see her. Kiss her good-bye. See if her eyes shone a little more brightly when she spied him. But he’d not wake her. After last night, she needed her sleep.
    James couldn’t help his smile as he took his hat from the butler—more slowly than strictly necessary—checked the stairway one last time, and reluctantly took his leave.
    * * *
    Sarah didn’t wake fully aware of the night before. No, her head felt a bit achy and her throat raw with thirst when sunlight finally woke her. She was snuggling into her pillow to escape the discomfort when the first inkling of what she’d done hit her. Hand pressed to her chest, she sat bolt upright and inhaled as much air as would fit in her lungs.
    She was stark naked.
    “Oh, good Lord.”
    The memories weren’t exactly crisp, but they were vivid nonetheless. She’d moaned and writhed. Shuddered and scratched. A stray cat howling for a tom. And then . . . then she’d had some sort of fit. A screaming, jerking fit.
    “Oh no,” Sarah sobbed, pressing both hands to her mouth. What must her husband think? Eyes rolling, she scanned the room, but saw no sign of him. When her gaze caught sight of the small clock on the mantel, her shoulders collapsed. It was nearly ten. He’d left for work long before. She would not see him for hours, and she couldn’t help but be thankful, disloyal as that seemed.
    She fell back to the pillows and pulled the coverlet up to her nose. What in the world had happened to her? The wine perhaps, except her strange mood had started earlier, so much worry and restlessness. And then . . . when her husband had touched her, something had . . . come to life inside her body. Something hot and trembling. Something almost hungry.
    A groan escaped her throat, scaring her almost as much as her thoughts. If there was a beast inside her, lurking in her deepest soul, she knew what it must be. Her secret. Her family’s secret.
    Sarah set her teeth and swallowed hard. She wasn’t a woman prone to dramatics. James had hardly seemed alarmed, from what she could recall. He had seemed . . . What? Encouraging? But he did not know the truth. She had not told him the truth. So she could not depend upon him to know whether her paroxysms were a normal phenomenon or a sign of worse to come.
    In truth, she had heard her own mother cry out like that on occasion. Usually when the doctor would go in and shut the door for her treatments. Then, afterward, her mother would weep, sometimes for days.
    Knowing full well that time spent lying in bed would only mean more worry, she dug her nightgown from beneath the sheets and twisted and wiggled until she had it on. Then she rang for a bath. By the time the clock struck eleven and she found herself staring down at the congealing breakfast on her plate, Sarah knew what she must do.
    Though the housekeeper was a slightly terrifying presence, Sarah forced herself to calmly request the woman’s attention in the morning room. It took her approximately two minutes to quench her suddenly dry mouth, wipe her fingers, and rise to make her way to the morning room. The housekeeper was already there, awaiting her.
    “Oh, Mrs. Baylor. Such a prompt response.” Sarah could not understand how Mrs. Baylor could be quite so round and still move more swiftly than a startled mouse.
    “Yes, ma’am. Would you care to review the menus this morning, then?”
    “No, I think the schedule is going splendidly. You run this house with great efficiency.”
    Mrs. Baylor waited, eyes darting toward the