Alice had no answer for what was she to say? The fact that she was not trying to kill him for what he did was answer enough. She turned her head to find his mouth and when she did, her arms went over his shoulders, wrapping around his neck as she indulged in the taste of him.

His hands hastily worked on the front buttons of her nightdress as he led her to the bed. They did not lie down gently. The bed squeaked in complaint as they fell and tumbled, both breathless from the kiss. But Alice barely heard it as blood rushed to her ears in anticipation to what was coming.

"You can be loud," he whispered in her ear as his hand found one breast. Alice fought the whimper that threatened to escape her throat by biting on his shoulder. "You can be loud, darling," he whispered hotly against her ear, his tongue tracing the lobe.

Her nightdress was pulled down to her waist, exposing her to him. Harold gave her another shattering kiss before he pulled her up to straddle his lap. His hands shook as he caressed her bare back. It was not gentle but it did not hurt either. They stopped at the side of her breasts, his thumbs moving up and down to tease.

A moan escaped her lips as his mouth descended down her throat.

"Undress me," he ordered before he bent his head to claim one nipple into his mouth.

Alice gasped in pleasure and surprise. She took a sharp breath as his mouth ravished her breast. Her head fell back and he pulled her closer to him just as when she was about to fall back on the bed.

His mouth returned to hers, sharing her taste with his tongue. "No, not yet, darling," he murmured against her mouth. "Undress me."

Alice's hands were shaking. She hated being ordered, but if undressing him was the only way she could fall back into that mattress, then she shall. She did not bother with the buttons. She pulled and caused them to fly and skip across the floor, opening his shirt in one fluid motion.

His head snapped to look up at her, eyes wide. "What the bloody hell—I do not have enough clothes—"

"You did not say please," she said, pressing closer to his exposed chest. A small moan escaped her, finally felt the feel of his skin.

Buttons finally forgotten, Harold pushed Alice on her back. He trapped her body by maintaining his position between her legs. His emerald green eyes locked with hers, he hastily stripped himself of his shirt. Next, he loosened his trousers.

"I will do it properly again later, darling," he almost growled as he bent down to capture her mouth. Then he was nibbling on her breast again. His hand pulled the skirt of her nightdress to her waist, exposing her drawers and that, too, was discarded in haste.

Alice could no longer help the cry that escaped her throat.

"I promise I will do it properly later," Harold whispered harshly in her ear. She squired and moaned louder as his fingers found her. Alice could feel the muscles of his shoulders bunch as though he was fighting something. "Are you ready, Alice? Tell me now," he whispered in her ear, his breath hot and damp.

Alice moaned senselessly as his hips jerked against her. She felt it. She felt his raw arousal courting its way inside her.

She knew how it was done, but she never imagined it to be this good.

No wonder the moaning from the other room was not stopping.

"Now, Alice," Harold prodded once again. His voice sounded begging. "Tell me now before it's too late, please."

Alice could only whimper as she felt the pressure. Lifting her knees higher to give him more space was answer enough.

Harold growled above her, muscles bunched and eyes closed.

And then came the pain.

It came swiftly and lingered longer than she had anticipated.

She was starting to regret having believed that lovemaking was delicious when slowly, Harold began to move his hips. The fire that was dying down erupted in flames and danced with the ebbing pain. Alice felt it almost criminal to feel this kind of wonder with the pain.

His hands went to her hips as she began to follow his rhythm. His mouth returned to hers, to her breast and back to hers. He was telling her to calm down, guiding her to a rhythm she was finding hard to follow. But when she finally got a hold of it, the moment she felt the delicious sensations that seemed to devour on her very soul, Alice desperately wanted to feed it more.

Surely there was more.

She moved her hips faster, moaning senselessly, ignorant of the noisy squeak of the bed as she tried to reach for that promising unknown.

She opened her eyes and found that Harold was looking at her, eyes half-closed.

He moistened her lips and smiled. His hands went to brush the damp strands of hair off her face. "It's okay, darling. It's okay."

Harold bent his head and kissed her, his hips increasing pace, slamming against her as though punishing her.

The fire was too high now. And then she was there, finally falling.

She let out a loud cry as she erupted, writhing beneath him. She heard his low chuckle as his hand covered her mouth. "I did not say you can be that loud," he whispered in her ear.

He lifted his hips and Alice whimpered in protest when he pulled out of her. She looked down and realized he was still aroused.

Seeing the look in her eyes, he chuckled. "I will let you rest a while," he said, stripping her fully of her nightdress. "You are not going anywhere tonight." Her drawers followed the heap of clothing on the floor.

"I do not think I would be able to do it again," she faintly said as she watched him pull his trousers off, finally seeing him fully in his natural form.

He was not ashamed of it and he had every right not to, Alice thought, watching him confidently make his way to the washstand where he soaked a towel with water.

He squeezed it and returned to the bed.

He sat beside her and raised his brows in question. "Allow me?"

Alice was confused at first and only realized what he intended to do when he started to use the washcloth to wipe her intimate part.

When she saw the hint of blood, she grabbed the cloth from him and murmured, "I will do it."

He kissed her cheek and lay on the bed beside her as she finished the task. Once done, Alice slipped out of bed, not bothering to cover up. If he was confident enough to walk around the room naked, then she was as well.

She knew he was watching her. And that thought alone was enough to make her warm.

She turned to face him lying there on the bed, boldly looking at her with a small smile curving one corner of his mouth.

"You said you shall do it properly," she reminded him, walking back to bed.

The fire was back in his eyes. Or perhaps they never left.

He reached for her hand, pulling her gently back into bed. "I will do it very properly until you cry for me to do it just properly," he assured before rolling on top of her to claim her mouth.

*****

Alice had imagined countless of times what her first sexual encounter would be like.

Secretly, she had always wanted a romantic, one which she would be in love with the man.

She had imagined something similar to the one she just had with Harold, one which was filled with intense attraction and passion, with love being too early to consider.

The first time was wonderful and satisfying, but the second time they did it was even more so because Harold was relieved of his own fire and it surprised her how lovemaking could satisfy one when the passion was mutually shared and released.

Her mother never spoke to her about it. Most women in her circle who had experienced it would make one believe that their part was a task. Yet Alice did not feel at all burdened. Harold did not make her feel she had to do something for him to please him.

Slowly, she turned her head and watched him sleeping beside her. One arm was wrapped around her waist and she slowly slipped out of it and slithered her way out of bed.

She gathered her clothes from the floor and quietly dressed.

Taking another glance at Harold's sleeping form, Alice sighed.

He was not the marrying kind.

A big part of her wanted to shake him to wakefulness to talk. But what would they talk about?

She was aware of what she entered herself. It was one that might never happen again.

One without consequences.

One without promises.

Alice left the room to go back to hers.

Everything was quiet now.

*****

Harold did not have the time to take Alice aside and talk the following day.

He woke up alone and when he next saw her, it was in the breakfast room packed with guests.

She met his eyes without awkwardness or any hint of shame for what they had done. But what else did he expect from this woman? She was not like the rest. She was confident. And she was too bloody unreadable.

Never had Alice left Eva's side, both of them talking in whispers, making him feel somehow conscious. Could they be talking about him? Had she shared with Eva what had transpired the night prior?

One could never tell.

He cursed himself for being stupid. How else did he think things would be like after last night? Did he think Alice would still be beside him when he woke up that morning? Did he expect to be showered with morning whispers and quiet, lazy lovemaking?

No, this was different. Alice was not like any of his past lovers.

The carriage ride back to Langworthy was long and intimate. They had decided to share the same carriage and sent Lord Henry's carriage back home with a note that Alice's horses would be fetched once they arrive in Langworthy.

Alice would join the conversation, even directly talk to Harold all throughout the journey.

And on their stop at a tiny village for rest, she went straight to her room and never left until the next morning when they had to continue their journey back home.

As they neared Langworthy, the subject of their conversation was none other than the parents.

Harold and Alice were surprised that the new couple had already sent their parents letters, explaining their current status.

"We shall be going home to a place burning with fury," Alice said with a sigh, looking out the window.

Harold had been watching her. In fact, his eyes had never left Alice.

Personally, he did not care how the entire Langworthy household would react to Martin and Eva's union. All he wanted was to land his feet on the ground, in a place large enough to hide him and Alice as they talked.

Because they needed to talk.

"My mother must not be home as we speak," Martin said.

"And my parents will be pleased," Eva added.

"So will my father."

"Your father wanted you to marry me," Alice reminded Martin. Harold hid his smile of amusement. However she could talk to Martin about such matter without reservations was beyond his ken.

"My father merely wanted what my mother wanted," Martin answered. "I am certain he will act mad when in fact he does not truly care so long as I can produce future heirs."

"Oh well, so long as I can keep my mother away from you for a while, I believe the news could be handled quite well."

"Although Mother would berate me for marrying the man Lady Edwina wants for her daughter," Eva later said, breaking the silence that followed Alice's statement.

"Mother will not be disappointed in her or you, Eva," Alice reassured. "She will be disappointed in me."

"Can we not talk about this until we have to actually face it?" Martin asked, shifting in his seat and taking his wife's hand in his. "I wish to enjoy the journey while it is still peaceful."

Harold saw Alice nod beside him.

What was on her mind? Was she fretful? Martin's marriage meant her last hope to keep Langworthy was gone. Was she thinking of leaving home? Where would she go?

*****

Lord August was obviously not very pleased. After greeting his son's wife cordially, he ordered for Martin to follow him into his study.

From there, he talked to and screamed at his son.

Alice, Harold and Eva stood at the hallway, listening to Lord August scream about Martin attempting to kill his own mother by doing something against her will.

It lasted for a few minutes until Alice could no longer stand by and listen to something that was already expected from the new Lord of Langworthy.

She turned to Eva and Harold. "Tea?"

The two nodded and they all turned together to walk to the parlor.

They rang for tea and talked about their pleasant journey, all the while ignoring the distant muffled screaming.

"I was not able to enjoy White Rocks. We were in haste, thanks to Lord Kenward," Alice was telling Eva who was obviously distracted.

Harold watched as Alice studied her friend and sighed.

"Oh, go on," Alice said to Eva with a wave of her hand. "Go and save your husband. I am sure Lord August will be calmer if you are in the room."

Eva was already on her feet even before Alice finished her statement. "We shall join you in a while."

"No, you will not," Harold heard Alice murmur into her teacup.

Finally, he was able to breathe. He leaned back into his chair and cleared his throat.

And finally, Alice looked at him. Really finally looked at him. "You wish to talk." It was not a question.

"Yes."

She gave him a small smile. "I understand, my lord. There is no need for you to subject yourself to a very uncomfortable conversation."

He frowned. "You do? Understand?"

"Of course," she nodded, placing her cup back on the table. With gentle grace, she relaxed in her chair and met his eyes. "Surely you do not wish to marry me simply because of what happened? Did you expect that I will be expecting you to offer for me?"

He blinked. "I am not the marrying kind."

"I am aware of that," she said, the small smile on her lips still there. "But can I ask a question?"

"Yes."

"Is it about the curse?"

Harold did not answer. He could not. She would think he was insane if he gave her one.

"Well, at the very least it can be a consolation that you do not wish to offer for me because you do not find me suitable." She pushed away from her chair ever so slightly and squared her shoulders. "Do you wish me to be your mistress?"

Harold was rendered speechless in disbelief. No woman had asked him such direct questions. Only this one. And he was starting to feel crazy for this particular kind.

He did not answer—could not answer—because he was hoping she would have something better to offer him, something that did not require marriage and family. But it was also something he would not dare ask of her because he knew she deserved far more.

She shook her head with a small chuckle. "You want me enough to want me to be your mistress, but not quite enough to offer marriage."

Although he never suggested the idea in words, he still felt the attack of guilt for his thoughts were begging her to accept what he could only offer.

His heart was hammering against his chest and stopped when the smile left her lips and her beautiful blue eyes stared back at him, flat, dead and unreadable. "Very well, I will not accept it, my lord. I cannot be your mistress."

Harold finally found his voice. "I would hate for you to be one." Liar. "You deserve better."

"The something better you cannot offer."

Harold nodded. "I am sorry."

Alice shrugged. "You and I and what we shared can be considered a pleasant memory, my lord. Do not be guilty for I am grateful for it." Harold swallowed the bitter taste in his tongue. It got even worse when she asked, "Friends?"

His jaw tightened. Every fiber of his being was in total rampage. "I can never be friends with you, Alice," he managed to say gently and honestly.

"That actually hurt, my lord," Alice admitted. The look in her face told Harold she meant it. And it caused a pang in his chest. What was this feeling? Was it guilt? But Harold knew guilt and this was not it.

Before he could gather his thoughts, Alice stood to her feet and looked down at him. "You do not wish to be my husband. I reject the unspoken offer to be your mistress. And you abhor the idea of being friends. Then perhaps we can both be strangers who pretend to be friends in front of our mutual acquaintances."

"I do not think we are strangers, Alice."

She gave him a mocking smile. "Then what do you suppose we are, my lord?"

Harold could not answer.

He still did not have one when the door closed and he realized she had left the room.