Wild Passions of a Mischievous Duchess

by Violet Hamers

  “Of course I do,” he answered. “Now, there is nothing to stand in our way. We can be married here in London, if you like, with a big announcement and all the guests and pomp that the Duchess of Stonehill can muster.”

  Elizabeth shook her head slowly. “No, thank you. I know Bridget would leap at the chance to throw such a party, but to tell the truth, I had gotten my heart set on that quiet country wedding. With just us.”

  Gerard touched the side of her face and kissed her. His lips were so soft and warm, and Elizabeth melted in his careful embrace.

  “If it’s a quiet country wedding you want, then that’s what you will have. And then, Rome? Do you still wish to go to Rome? We have no need to run from England anymore, but I still want to show you the world.”

  “Yes, and then Rome,” she said.

  “Oh!” Bridget said, coming into the room with a swish of her skirts. “Am I interrupting?” Her face turned pink.

  Gerard rolled his eyes slightly and sat back down in the chair he’d slept in. “Not at all, Bridget. What is it?”

  “I just wanted to check on Lizzie,” she said, sweeping to Elizabeth’s bedside. “I see Gerard has cleaned you up as the physician ordered. That’s good. Can you eat? You must be hungry?”

  Elizabeth smiled. She knew that all of this anxious energy radiating off of Bridget was masking her grief over what had happened with her childhood friend.

  “I am, yes. Starving, actually.” It was a lie, but Elizabeth figured she could eat if she forced herself, and Bridget looked like she was desperate for some way of being helpful.

  Bridget smiled and bent down to kiss Elizabeth’s forehead. “All right, love. I’ll send up the best the kitchen can offer this morning. You’ll be right as rain in no time, I know it.”

  “Thank you,” Elizabeth answered. And that she meant from the bottom of her heart.

  The bluebirds continued to sing outside her window, and the sunny morning faded effortlessly into a vibrant afternoon. Stonehill was still in shock by all that had transpired, but there was a quiet sense of hope for the future that brightened even the darkest memories of the past.

  Epilogue

  “Just the slightest touch of rouge,” Bridget coaxed. “I promise I won’t make you look like a painted lady, but just the tiniest suggestion of color will make you look absolutely stunning, I swear it.”

  Elizabeth gazed at herself in the tall mirror that stood in the corner of the bedroom she had been staying in since arriving at Hadminster. It was the last day she would call this room her own. In just a few hours, she would go to bed with Gerard, in his bedroom, in his bed, as his wife.

  The gauzy white wedding gown was light as air, inspired by the ancient Greeks, and her hair was done up with gold ribbons and strings of delicate pearls to highlight the Grecian influence even more. She had never worn all white before, that she could remember. And perhaps it did make her skin look slightly pale.

  She chewed her lip and noticed the beautifying effect of the flush of pink that went to them after the bite.

  “Oh, all right then. Just the slightest touch. I want my groom to be able to recognize me, after all.”

  Bridget exclaimed and opened the small faceted pot that contained the red powder. Elizabeth winced at the bright vermillion, but Bridget barely touched the powder with her ring finger before delicately patting it into the apples of her cheeks and her lips.

  In the mirror, Elizabeth watched as her face transformed. The pallor which might have made her look nervous washed away, leaving behind a glow and faint flush of the happiness she truly felt.

  “There, you see? You can’t even tell it is rouge.”

  “I never should have doubted you.”

  Bridget wrapped her arms around Elizabeth’s shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug. “You know, when you first arrived at Stonehill, I knew we would be friends. You were so quiet and shy but you had that wry, intelligent look in your eye and I just adored you right away. I can’t tell you how pleased I am to call you my sister.”

  Elizabeth laughed, the mirth and excitement bubbling up from deep inside as she returned Bridget’s embrace. “I adored you straight away, too. I thought you were the most beautiful, gentlest lady I ever saw.”

  “Gerard should count his lucky stars every day that he has won you,” Bridget said. “And if he ever starts to take you for granted you tell me, and I’ll come and box his ears for you.”

  Elizabeth laughed. She could easily imagine the sight of Bridget doing just that. Before she had come to Stonehill, Elizabeth may have had certain preconceived notions about duchesses, that they were haughty and prim and lacking in genuine emotion. How wrong she had been.

  A gentle knock came to the door and the two ladies turned to find Dorothy, dressed in a crisp new uniform just for the occasion.

  “Are you ready, love?” she asked. “It’s just about time.”

  Elizabeth swallowed thickly and nodded. “Yes, I think so.”

  The three women would walk together to the chapel. It was not far from Hadminster, and the countryside was drenched in warm sunlight on that particular morning. Elizabeth turned her face up to the sky, closing her eyes for a moment as they walked along the hedgerows, to feel the sun warm her eyelids and her cheeks. The fragrant blooms in her bouquet wafted around her. If she had been nervous about the impending nuptials in the days leading up to this moment, those niggling fears were burned away by the white light.

  The chapel was modest, but stained-glass windows drenched the inside with puddles of colored light, casting the whole space in a magical glow. Gerard was standing at the altar next to the minister. His business partner, whom Elizabeth had met only briefly since arriving at Hadminster but whom she had already come to like, was behind him.

  As Elizabeth had no father, it befell Jonathan to walk with her to the altar. The Duke grinned at her, then cast his wife a sidelong glance and wink as he offered his arm.

  Elizabeth couldn’t tear her eyes away from her groom as she walked sedately towards the altar. Gerard wore his customary navy blue, but his waistcoat was trimmed with bright gold. His sharp jaw was accented by his crisp white collar and it looked as though he had had his hair trimmed for the wedding.

  To Elizabeth, he was the most handsome gentleman in the world. A prince among men. She had no doubt that the rogue on her cheeks was unnecessary now, as she felt warmth flood her at the sight of her beloved.

  The chapel was silent save for their soft footfalls until she joined Gerard at the altar and the minister began the rite.

  Elizabeth could hardly hear him. She could hardly pay attention. Her heart was drumming in her chest so loudly that she felt sure that everyone could hear it. The ceremony passed in a blur of giddy excitement. She was sure that she caught tears brimming in Gerard’s eyes as he gazed at her, though.

  Elizabeth’s entire life felt as though it tipped towards the moment when Gerard took her hand, and sliding a gold ring onto her finger, said, “With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow. In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

  She felt tears on her cheeks, and her hand trembled in his. The words rang in her ears all through Communion, and all the way out the door of the chapel, where they were met with a small crowd of local citizens who had somehow caught word of the wedding of the Duke of Hadminster. They were eager, it seemed, to catch a first glimpse of their new Duchess.

  Duchess…

  The word seemed to follow her as they were pelted with rice and white flower petals. Elizabeth laughed, gripping Gerard’s hand as they ducked through the crowds to the waiting carriage. Once tucked within the relative privacy of the carriage, Gerard wasted no time in cradling Elizabeth’s face and covering her with kisses.

  * * *

  The wedding celebration had been small, with only a few people in attendance, but with music and cake and dancing it was more than Elizabeth could have ever dreamed of. The
entire day seemed wreathed in golden light and she knew that she would remember these moments for the rest of her days.

  As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the room, a final toast was given by Jonathan.

  “To the Duke and Duchess of Hadminster,” he said, raising a glass of port. “May you have many years of happiness together, and all good luck and blessings upon your home.”

  Elizabeth laughed, feeling Gerard’s warm hand at the small of her back as the toast was finished and she swallowed her own small glass, the alcohol searing her throat and gathering a feeling of heaviness in her limbs. She was grateful for that as, while the day grew longer, she had begun to think forward to what would happen that night when she ascended the stairs with her husband.

  My husband.

  Her nerves at thoughts of her wedding night were tempered by the warmth and safety that word, husband, held for her. As he led her up the stairs, away from the others, her heart skittered against her ribs, but she was not afraid.

  Someone had prepared the room for them in advance. A cheerful fire crackled in the fireplace, sending the shadows in the room into a flickering dance. She was grateful for the cover of shadows when she felt Gerard behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing his lips to the back of her neck. Goosebumps raised along her arms.

  “Gerard,” she whispered into the darkness.

  “Hm?”

  “Do you remember…that night in the library?”

  “I’ve thought of it every night since it happened,” he murmured, turning her to face him.

  “This is kind of like that, isn’t it?” she said, noticing a tremble in her voice.

  She saw the corner of his lip turn up in a smile before he raised her chin and kissed her, parting her lips expertly. His mouth tasted of port and the faint sweetness of cake. Heat flooded her at this kiss which was unlike any other time he had kissed her. Where before there had been the thrill of the forbidden, now there was only anticipation and the thrilling surety that the desire which had been blooming for so long would soon be consummated.

  She allowed herself to trace her hands over his shoulders, pushing his waistcoat down his arms. He smiled against her lips as she did so, apparently pleased at her boldness.

  “Are you scared?” he whispered against her lips as he led her towards the large bed hung with thick curtains.

  “No,” she replied. And it was true. She was nervous, yes. But not truly frightened. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

  He shook his head, kissing her again. “Never.”

  As he undressed her, Elizabeth stood with her arms hanging heavily at her sides. She shivered as the air hit her skin, but his hands warmed her. With her gown and chemise removed, her heart thudded so hard she thought she might faint as he knelt down in front of her to remove her garters and roll her stockings down her legs one at a time.

  When she was completely bare before him, she squeezed her eyes shut and laughed anxiously. He responded to her maiden shyness by groaning quietly in her ear and devouring her neck in ravenous kisses as he pushed her back against the bed, laying her down.

  She watched him, her breathing becoming shallow as he stood over her and shrugged out of his clothes. His cravat made a whispering sound as he pulled it off, exposing the sharp angles of his neck. When he sat down on the edge of the bed to remove his boots, Elizabeth stood up and scooted behind him, pressing her breasts against his back as she tugged the ends of his shirt out of his trousers.

  As she lifted his shirt over his head, she was delighted to find constellations of dark freckles that decorated his back and shoulders. She kissed each one of them in turn, relishing this secret knowledge as he shifted his weight on the bed to remove his trousers.

  Twisting to face her, his grin was wolfish and sent a lightning bolt of excitement down her spine as he pushed her back against the pillows and climbed over her body, pulling the thick blankets over both of them.

  In the warm darkness, his hands roamed over her body, teasing pleasurable shivers out of her as his fingers coaxed and tickled over the pieces of her that had never been touched by another person. She gripped onto his shoulders as he braced himself over her, pressing her face into his neck and wriggling against his touch.

  The cover of darkness and the words of the wedding rite that rang in her ears calmed the shame that might have threatened to dampen her pleasure.

  “With my body I thee worship…” she remembered his voice pronouncing the words in front of God and everyone gathered. The words took a darker, more earthy meaning in the flickering firelight.

  The pain she had feared when he joined with her was not as frightful as she has thought. In fact, the sharpness of the deflowering was so tempered by the gentleness of his hands and his lips on hers that she hardly took note of it before it was replaced by a spine-shaking feeling of fullness. She arched her back, lifting her hips to meet his as he shuddered against her.

  His movements were slow and deep, like the soothing waves of the ocean. She thought briefly of Rome, of their upcoming sea voyage, of their life together that spread out before her like a vast blank page waiting to be filled. All coherent thought was shattered by the crashing waves of pleasure that soon washed over her. The muscles of his arms underneath her fingers flexed spasmodically and he lowered his head, groaning through his teeth shortly after. She wrapped her arms tightly around him, cradling him as his body softened and relaxed before he rolled off of her, pulling her against him.

  She fell asleep surrounded by the scent of a wood fire and the faint tobacco aroma that was distinctly Gerard’s, cradled in the crook of his arm, where she would remain for the rest of her days.

  The End?

  Extended Epilogue

  Eager to know more on how Elizabeth and Gerard’s relationship evolved? Then enjoy this free complimentary short story featuring the beloved couple.

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  Sins of an Intoxicating Duchess

  About the book

  She is enough to drive a saint to madness or a Duke to his knees...

  Forced to stay with her obnoxious cousin who hates her, Selina Drake, daughter of the Earl of Quinton, is on the brink of despair. When she sees her cousin’s betrothed for the first time, her life is besieged by a mixture of dread and excitement...

  While ready for his much-talked-about engagement party, Jasper Munro, Duke of Gillingham falls madly in love for the very first time. The object of his desire is not his intended but, rather, her utterly ravishing younger cousin…

  A romance doomed by the Fates before it even starts, meant to drown them in longing...

  Suspicious murders around the Dukedom see the wedding postponed, and Jasper realizes that betrayal starts with little lies and wears a smile. Standing before his very own nemesis, Jasper must make a choice: save himself or the one he loves most...

  Chapter One

  Lady Selina Drake peered out through the window of her father’s landau, which was taking her from her father’s estate in Hertfordshire, to her uncle’s home in Colchester, a two days’ journey by carriage. The shiny black carriage was pulled by a perfectly matched pair of Norfolk Trotters.

  On the pale-blue velvet seat across from her, Faith, her lady’s maid, was sound asleep, snoring softly. Her head rested against the window. Her bonnet had slipped back, and her mousy-blonde hair was tumbling out of her bun. Selina let her sleep—it had been a long journey.

  Selina was dressed in a smart gray frock, which wouldn’t show the wrinkles after a long drive into the country. A simple straw bonnet covered her golden hair, the gray silk ribbon tied beneath her chin in a bow.

  From far off, she spotted the familiar façade of Kirby Hall, her uncle’s country seat. It was like returning home
, in some ways. She’d spent much time at Kirby Hall when she was young. It had been five years since her last visit.

  Her father, Lord Everett Drake, the Earl of Quinton, was traveling for business. He’d been called away to Paris to oversee some of his investments in silk. Her mother, Lady Quinton, never let an opportunity to go to Paris pass her by, and Selina’s older brother, Thomas, was visiting a friend in the Lakes District.

  Selina didn’t want to remain at Staunton, her father’s sprawling estate, so she had written to her aunt and uncle, to see if she could visit. As it turned out, her cousin, Leah, was newly engaged, and they were happy to receive her. She was invited to stay through the spring, so that she could be there for the wedding festivities.