Chapter Thirty-Eight
November 28th, 1808
Devonshire
Letty watched Reid and Houghton plow their way through breakfast. Reid was embarrassed by memory of last night—she’d seen it in the way his cheeks had colored faintly when he’d first entered the room—but at least he was able to meet her eyes this morning. His manner became easier as the minutes passed. By the time breakfast was over, it was as if the intimacies in his bedchamber had never happened.
But they had happened. She could remember what he’d done to her, what she’d done to him. Those latter memories were the ones she dwelled on, the ones she returned to time and time again: Reid’s taste and his scent, the shape of him in her mouth, the heat and the smooth hardness, the helpless noises he’d uttered. And most precious of all—the
