by Unknown
The light traveling coach bearing the Linton arms stood at the door. Justin handed his bride into its upholstered interior after a slightly tearful farewell from her grandparents before entering himself and closing the door firmly.
"Now, my love," he said with satisfaction, seating himself beside her. "Let us rid ourselves of that hat."
"But, Justin, we have not yet left the square." She made half-laughing protest.
"True," he concurred and pulled the blinds over the windows. "Now we are free of prying eyes, so I will have no more excuses, if you please." The hat left her head to be tossed carelessly onto the opposite seat and the Countess of Linton found herself ruthlessly crushed against a broad chest as imperative fingers lifted her face to receive a kiss, at first gentle and exploratory, then increasing in demand and possession as the earl, for the first time, truly gave rein to his passion.
When finally he released her lips she remained in the circle of his arm, sobbing for breath and composure as the pulsing heat in her body slowly receded. "You . .. you have kissed me many times before, milord, but never quite like that," she stammered in wonder.
"Before, my little love, I had to keep myself in check." He smiled gently, running a long finger over the bridge of her tip-tilted nose. "Today, I may anticipate a little."
Danielle absorbed this slowly. There was so much that she still did not understand about this business of lovemaking, particularly its effects on her mate.
"How soon before we reach Danesbury?" she asked carefully. It seemed a natural enough question in
the circumstances.
"We are not going to Danesbury today" came the totally unexpected reply.
"But why is that?" Danielle pushed her hands against his chest in a quite unsuccessful attempt to right herself.
"I do not wish to spend unnecessary hours of my wedding day boxed up in a chaise," he replied placidly. "And neither do I wish you to become tired, my love. Not yet, at least."
"But . . . but you told the other chaise with my abigail and all the luggage to go straight to Danesbury.' I heard you."
"I have dressed and undressed you before, Danielle. Will you not allow me to do so again? Surely, I was not so very unskilled," he teased, running soft fingers through the lightly powdered curls resting against
his shoulders.
"You were most skilled, milord," she murmured mischievously. "I seem to remember remarking on how very experienced you were."
"But you will be a little more discreet today, my brat?"
She laughed softly and possessed herself of his hand, examining the long beringed fingers with frowning concentration. "But I have no clothes, Justin, no toilet articles. Is it to be as it was that first evening in Paris?"
"Not quite. I have everything you will need for one night, which, I take leave to inform you, madam,
will be very little! Now try to sleep a while, I wish you rested when we arrive at our destination."
Their destination turned out to be a pretty, whitewashed inn on the banks of the River Thames about fifteen miles from London. An apple-cheeked woman enveloped in a voluminous white apron came to
the door to greet them, wreathed in smiles as she bobbed a curtsy.
"My lord, you made good time, indeed. My felicitations, sir, and to you, my lady. Welcome to the Swallow's Nest. As you instructed, my lord, you and her ladyship are the only guests and everything is prepared exactly."
"My love, may I introduce Mrs. MacGregor? To me she has always been Biddy." Iinton smiled.
"And to you too, I hope, my lady. I've known His Lordship since before he was in leading strings."
Danielle gave the woman her smile. "Then, Biddy, you shall tell me some stories of that time. I have a great desire to know what manner of child My Lord was."
"A real imp, m'lady." Biddy laughed, totally won by this frank, open manner. "Now many's the time
I've ..."
"Biddy, not now, please," His Lordship interrupted, anxious to forestall a long catalog of reminiscences which would probably not reflect too favorably on his boyhood character.
"Goodness me, what can I have been thinking of?" Biddy recollected herself briskly. "You must be tired, my lady, after your journey and such an exciting day. I'll show you to your apartments and you need have no fear you'll be disturbed. There's a cold supper waiting for you and Jed's best burgundy." She bustled ahead of them into the inn, up a flight of oak stairs, and along a passageway to open a door at the end. Danielle walked into a long, sunny room running the length of the inn. It was both bedchamber and parlor with a bright fire in the grate, an oak piecrust table set for dinner, flanked by two carved wooden chairs, tapestry-covered armchairs, and an enormous canopied bed, fluffy with feather pillows and a patchwork comforter. A worked screen stood to one side of the fire and a pink-cheeked girl emerged from behind at their entrance.
"Your bath's all ready, m'lady." She curtsied. "If you'd like me to help you . . . ?"
Danielle glanced up at Iinton and his lips curved. "I think, Maggie, that My Lady would appreciate your assistance," he said calmly. "Ah, here is the luggage. You will find everything you need in the portmanteau, my love. I shall go and talk to Jed for a while—it's been many months since we met. I shall join you in about half an hour." He pinched her cheek lightly, smiling reassuringly into her suddenly anxious eyes and left her.
With Maggie's help she got out of the crimson traveling dress, the wide hoop, petticoats, stockings, corset, chemise, and pantalettes and stepped behind the screen into the sloping-backed tub of hot water. It had been typical of Justin that he had sensed she would feel more comfortable this first time preparing herself alone and Maggie did not intrude on her thoughts, merely busied herself tidying the discarded clothing and unpacking the portmanteau.
"I have laid everything ready on the bed, m'lady," she called softly from the other side of the screen.
"Will there be anything else?"
"No thank you, Maggie. You have been most helpful." The door clicked shut and she was truly alone.
The gown on the bed took her breath away. It was of ivory silk, caught under the bosom to fall in a straight line to her feet. The low, wide neckline was threaded through with a dull gold ribbon to be drawn and tied above the cleft of her breasts. She slipped it over her warmed nakedness and the soft material rustled against her skin, and clung most immodestly to the curves of her body. It was the sort of garment to cause raised eyebrows and gasps of shock from the likes of Lady Lavinia, but her husband clearly knew what pleased him when it came to the bedchamber. She sat at the dresser to brush the powder out of her curls, allowing the ringlets to fall as they pleased around her face and on the nape of her neck. She decided that she was, on the whole, pleased with what she saw. Her eyes carried an unusual brightness which, if anything, made them seem even bigger, and her skin glowed with an inner light that she knew reflected the trepidation and anticipation surging somewhere in the pit of her belly.
The door opened and she whirled from the mirror, unable to restrain the slight, startled gasp as Linton came in. He said nothing at first, merely removed his coat and shoes before crossing toward her.
"You must not be nervous, Danielle," he whispered, sweeping the hair from the back of her neck and bending to kiss the soft, vulnerable skin.
A slight shudder ran through her as his lips burned against her bent neck and his tongue stroked smoothly upward into the indentation of her skull.
"Come, my love. It is time for me to show you just how enjoyable this matter of loving can be." His hands cupped her elbows, lifting her off the dresser stool, drawing her toward the long pier glass where
he positioned himself behind her as she faced her image.
"First you must understand the beauty of your body and see something of the effects desire will have." His hands reached in front of her, cupping the soft breasts, the heel of his palm lifting the nipples under the thin silk, before he untied the ribbon at the neck of the gown and slowly bared
her shoulders and breasts, catching them in his hand as they fell free.
Danielle looked at them in the glass, their whiteness startlingly blue-veined, their tips suddenly small and hard under his caressing fingers. "Do you think I am perhaps a little inadequate, milord?" she asked hesitantly.
Laughter sprang in the depths of those black eyes as they met hers in the mirror. "Were you any better endowed, my sweet, you would be, to use your own inelegant expression, positively top-heavy! See how comfortably they fit in my hands?" But those hands were now pushing the gown further, sliding it to her waist. She gasped in soft protest as one long finger played in the small, tight bloom of her navel, but her
protest went unheeded as, with a deft movement, Justin slipped the fine silk over her slender hips to fall
in a whisper around her ankles.
She stood, long-legged, clean-limbed before her reflection and the tall figure behind her allowed a whisper of contentment to escape his lips as he began to stroke over her belly, her hips, and down her thighs.
"Ah, but you are perfection, Danielle. Do you see how straight and slim your legs are, how flat your belly, and how sweetly round your little bottom?" He turned her sideways slightly, running his hand down the long length of her back, meandering lazily over the curve of her hips and down the backs of her thighs.
Danielle swallowedrUnder the soft caress of his fingers, the honeyed warmth of his voice, a deep tension was building, sending fluttery shivers across her skin and the blood pounding through her veins. He drew her against him, one arm circling her waist and a curious hardness stirred against her buttocks. She stiffened suddenly and then moaned involuntarily as his hand curled itself in the springy triangle of fair hair at the base of her belly. She moved her own hand, pushing him away, but he shook his head slightly and continued to finger the mound beneath. His breath whispered across her neck and the fingers reached further.
"You must not," she pleaded softly, unable to withstand the moist weakness filling her secret places.
"Oh, but I must," he insisted gently. She clenched her thighs and buttocks against the invasion, but he pushed with firm determination between them, parting the silky, swollen petals to bring tears of shame and delight to her eyes as her entire body shivered and shook beneath an onslaught of heat and icy cold that misted her skin with a fine sheen of sweat.
"See how heavy your eyes are, my love?" he whispered. "How your breath comes fast when I touch you like this. See how your breasts swell and stand out? Don't resist your desire. It will bring only exquisite pleasure, I promise you."
"Is there pleasure for you?" she whispered.
"Can you not feel it, my love?" He pressed her against him again and the hard bulge of his awakened manhood burned against her flesh.
"Come, Danielle. I will show you the extent of my pleasure." Lifting her easily, he carried her to the bed, laying her down tenderly.
Slipping out of his britches, undergarments, and stockings, he reached for Danielle's hand and drew her
to her feet. Her eyes were wide as saucers as she gazed at his nakedness, unable to look away from the slender trail of black hair curling from his navel down to the evidence of his passion. The thought of allowing him inside a body that she still thought of as belonging only to herself sent a thrill of fear down her spine.
"Touch me, Danielle," he commanded quietly. "If you learn the shape and the feel of me, you will not
be frightened."
Tentatively she stretched her hand to enclose him. He was hard, yet soft, the blood pulsing strongly against her fingers. Her other hand ran hesitantly over his muscled chest, touching the hard buttons of his nipples. Justin exhaled on a soft groan and looking up she saw his eyes were closed, the handsome head thrown back. It occurred to her, then, that in some way she was giving back the pleasure she had received from him and that that pleasure was not something to be hidden or denied.
"Lie on the bed now, Danielle." The soft command was enforced by his hands pushing her gently backward. She obeyed in watchful, waiting, trusting silence as he stretched himself, long and lean, beside her. His head bent to her breasts, drawing the nipples between his lips as his hands stroked languorously over her body creating a dreamy lethargy that was hardly disturbed as he again began to explore her vulnerability.
"Keep still, my love." A hand pressed firmly into her belly and the next instant she felt fingers sliding inside her, moving gently. Her hips bucked in protest, arced against the firm pressure on her stomach,
and then began to move of their own accord in rhythm with the alien exploration within.
"I will be as gentle as I can," the soft voice stated evenly. His own passion was well in check now as,
with quiet deliberation, Justin began to bring her to the brink of ecstasy. The tension within Danielle now built to an unbearable peak as those skillful fingers unerringly played on the sensitive center of her passion, until, with a small cry, she took her release in the only way possible, the muscles in thigh and belly tightening convulsively as the searing sweetness flooded and spilled over, leaving her gasping, heavy with involuntary relaxation. He swung himself over her supine frame guiding his manhood within the still pulsating entrance to her body. For a second, the brown eyes beneath him opened in shock, but in the aftermath of her climax she had neither the strength nor the will to tighten her body against him. The soft barrier of her innocence opposed his path and with swift resolution he drew back slightly before driving deeply.
Danielle cried out at the abrupt shaft of pain, but her body was still relaxed and the moment passed as swiftly as it had come.
"All over, my sweet." He spoke softly, pushing the sweat-dampened curls away from her face, bending his lips to hers in a kiss of overpowering sweetness. "Now we shall both take our pleasure."
His eyes never leaving hers, he began to move smoothly, rhythmically, adjusting his speed and position as reactions flitted across the mobile face beneath him. He was taken as much by surprise as Danielle when her half-closed eyes suddenly shot open on an expression of astonished wonder. Her back arched as her legs curled around his buttocks, pulling him hard against the cleft of her opened body. The demanding movement destroyed all control and his passion gushed hot and fast within her. Danielle cried out again, holding his throbbing manhood inside until he fell, spent, crushing her breasts beneath his exhausted weight.
It was a long time before Justin shifted sideways, disengaging himself as he drew her into the curve of
his arm.
"Dear God, Madame Wife, will you never cease to surprise me?" he muttered weakly.
"Was that not the right thing to happen?" Danielle pushed herself onto one elbow, examining his face intently.
"Absolutely the right thing, my love, just a little unusual. Virgins do not, in general, achieve such delight without some practice."
"Perhaps, in general, they do not have such skillful or experienced tutors," she murmured, lowering her lashes over an impish gleam.
"I am glad that the loss of your innocence has not meant the loss of your wit, my brat." He laughed.
"Now, little love, we must eat some of Biddy's supper. I dare not risk hurting her feelings, and, besides, we need to keep up our strength, we have a long night ahead of us."
Danielle smiled with anticipation at his words as she took the outstretched hand and rose languidly to her feet, crossing with long strides to the discarded gown in its rumpled heap before the mirror.
"I think, milord," she stated definitely, as her head emerged from the silken folds, "that this is not the
kind of garment normally worn by wives."
He laughed appreciatively, coming to smooth the material over her hips. "No, it is a gown for a mistress, Danny. And, unless I much mistake the matter, I have acquired a mistress to gladden the most exacting heart."
Danielle smiled, her eyes meeting his in the mirror. "Can one love a mistress, Justin, as one can love a wife?"
"If they are one and the same, my
sweet, there can be only inexplicable joy. For you, too, since you have both husband and lover."
"Yes," she whispered, turning within his embrace to face him. "For me, also, only inexplicable joy."
Part 2: Out of the Chrysalis
Chapter 9
"I fear, Peter, that I must return to town in the morning." The Earl of Linton did not look up from the close-written sheet in his hand.
Peter Haversham had recognized the bold black script immediately. The Countess of Linton was an inveterate note writer and in the six months since she had transformed the stately pace of life at Linton House he had received any number of these hastily written communications containing information, prettily worded requests, and, on occasion, terse instructions.
"Nothing wrong, I trust, my lord?"
