Giving a start, Brynn turned her head to stare down at him. “You intend to consummate our marriage here?”
“Can you think of a better place?”
“Certainly I can! A bridal chamber is the usual setting for a consummation.”
“But then our marriage is not exactly usual, is it? In fact, I would call it rather unique.”
She drew a steadying breath, grasping for arguments to throw in his path. “Do you have any notion the scandal it would cause if we were seen? Or do you simply not care?”
“No one will see us. I intend to wait until it grows dark, of course.”
It was nearly dusk now. Brynn took a deep gulp of champagne, hoping the sparkling wine would quell her agitation. “It will still be scandalous,” she murmured.
“Not much more so than your swimming nearly nude in this very location.”
She shook her head, feeling a bit desperate. It was one thing to swim here in privacy. It was quite another to purposely hold one’s wedding night on a rocky beach. “Surely you do not expect me to undress here?”
“Why not? I’ve already seen a good deal of your body.”
“It will be much too cold,” she said lamely.
“I brought several blankets. And I will do my best to keep you warm.”
He set the dish of strawberries aside and sat up, making Brynn tense. “I thought you would be more adventuresome than this, my sweet.”
“I am not as adventuresome as all that.”
A faint smile curved his mouth at her indignation. “I am your husband now, Brynn. Married women are permitted more freedom than young misses.”
He paused. “Do you know what is supposed to happen between us?”
“I am not completely green. My closest friends are married, and one of them told me… generally what to expect.”
“Then you know that carnal relations are necessary to conceiving a child.”
She wondered why a child was so important to him, but she didn’t dare ask and give him an opening for even more intimate confessions. “I am well aware of it, my lord.”
“Lucian,” he murmured. “Say my name, love.”
“Lucian,” she repeated reluctantly.
“That’s better. Would you like more champagne?”
“Yes, please.”
She was drinking too much, she knew, but she was not about to stop; she needed the courage if Wycliff meant to go through with his plan.
He refilled her glass, then proceeded to untie his cravat. “You have no cause for worry,” he said, catching her look of dismay. “I have every intention of making your first experience pleasurable.”
“Certainly I have cause for worry. You may not believe in the curse, but I have no doubt your obsession will only grow worse once we…”
“Become lovers?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve always held the opinion that a curse has power only if you give it credence.”
“Well then, you might consider my feelings. You obviously have a vast deal of experience, so you cannot understand my anxiety.”