by Stella Riley
Someone knocked at the door. He held Cassandra tighter and ignored it.
‘Sebastian?’ Adrian’s voice contained a note of laughter. ‘Stop what you’re doing and come out. It’s time to go up to the ballroom.’
Sebastian lifted his head and looked into Cassandra’s eyes.
‘Damn,’ he growled. ‘It’s a dastardly plot.’
Laughing up at him, she placed one last kiss against his throat and said, ‘No. It’s my moment of glory. So let’s go – before Papa starts without us.’
At first largely unnoticed, they halted at the top of the shallow flight of stairs which led into the ballroom. Then the orchestra played a brief fanfare and Sir Charles said, ‘Serena and I crave your forgiveness, ladies and gentlemen. A little over an hour ago – and at Lord Wingham’s suggestion, I might add – this evening’s betrothal celebration became a wedding.’ He held out his hand towards the newly-wedded pair. ‘I have enormous pleasure in presenting my new son-in-law and his bride; Sebastian and Cassandra Audley.’
But for the Duke of Rockliffe, there might have been a yawning silence. As it was, while footmen circulated with trays of champagne and before anyone else could react at all, his Grace said, ‘If Charles and Serena will forgive my presumption … on behalf of those of us fortunate enough to have witnessed the ceremony, I would like to propose a toast to the health and happiness of bridal pair.’ He raised his glass. ‘Sebastian and Cassandra.’
‘Sebastian and Cassandra!’ came the obedient response.
‘Clever Rock,’ remarked Caroline approvingly to Adrian. ‘No one will dare make any sly innuendos about indecent haste now.’
The orchestra launched into a gavotte. Sebastian led his wife down the steps, bowed and kissed each of her hands, murmuring, ‘My dance I think, Mistress Audley. As, indeed, are all the others.’
‘We can’t!’ she objected – though not, he noted with any great conviction.
‘On the contrary. This is the one and only time we can. Tonight, Madam, you dance with no one but your husband – whom, in case you’ve forgotten, you just promised to obey.’
In fact, though Sebastian was adamant about claiming every dance, good manners meant that they trod every other measure and spent the ones in between accepting the good wishes of those who hadn’t already offered them. But when the supper dance loomed, Sebastian said softly, ‘Do you think we might slip away? We could have supper in our new home … and you can take off your shoes.’
Cassie’s breath stalled and her pulse rate increased but his remark about the shoes made it easy to smile and nod. Ten minutes later, thanks to Adrian’s forethought in ordering a carriage, they were on their way to Bruton Place.
* * *
The main reception rooms were no more furnished than they had been a week ago but Caroline had wrought miracles in the master suite. Followed more slowly by Sebastian, Cassie flew from room to room admiring everything as she went. Beds, hangings and curtains; rugs, mirrors and wash-stands; vases of fragrant roses and a tray with wine and glasses; and in the sitting-room, a sofa and comfortable chairs by the hearth, a breakfast-table near the window and even a small, elegant escritoire complete with pens, ink and paper.
‘Caroline has thought of everything!’ said Cassie, running her fingers over the glossy surface of her dressing-table. ‘Goodness only knows how she’s done it in the time – or how she’s managed to choose exactly what I’d have chosen myself.’
With due solemnity, Sebastian agreed that Caroline was indeed a genius; that yes, he loved the Nile blue hangings in his bedchamber; and his dressing-room had been fitted with just the right amount of drawers, shelves and closets.
Cassie laughed at him and put her arms about his waist.
‘Don’t tease. You like it, don’t you?’
He rested his cheek on her hair. ‘Yes. But mostly I like that you are here.’
There was little point in mentioning that the presence of Cassandra’s maid was a very large fly in his ointment and that he was having a hard time not wishing her at the devil. It wasn’t the girl’s fault. She was unobtrusive, efficient and plainly devoted to Cassandra. The problem was that she was there at all. If he’d wanted servants hovering about them, he’d have brought Hobson with him; but what he’d wanted was to have his wife completely to himself just for a few days; and tonight especially he’d looked forward to disrobing her with his own hands … very, very slowly.
Well, that wasn’t going to happen. He’d have to put up with the convention of kicking his heels elsewhere while Cassandra’s maid prepared her for bed … and praying the bloody girl didn’t trip into the bedroom tomorrow morning with a cup of chocolate or some such.
‘Come and take a glass of wine with me while we wait for supper,’ he said. And in her ear, ‘I seem to recall promising to take off your shoes.’
Flushing a little, she nodded and let him draw her into the sitting-room. Choosing the sofa so that he could sit beside her, she watched him remove his coat and pour wine. Then, setting both glasses on the table, he knelt at her feet and slid warm hands about her ankles, whilst his eyes held hers. Cassandra’s mouth felt suddenly dry and though she had no idea what she wanted to say, she tried to moisten it. Sebastian’s gaze dropped to her lips. Finally, he said huskily, ‘What was I supposed to be doing?’
‘R-Removing my shoes.’
‘Ah. Right.’ He drew off the left one and then the right, on each occasion taking the time to trace her ankle-bones and the arch of her instep. Presently, he said, ‘Is there anything else I can help you with? Hairpins, perhaps? Jewellery?’ A long pause, during which she could see a pulse beating in his throat, ‘Your stockings?’
Heat flared low in Cassie’s belly. She wanted to say yes. Even more disconcertingly, she realised that she wouldn’t have minded him removing every stitch she was wearing. But before she could say anything at all, a tap at the door heralded their supper.
‘Damn.’
Sebastian rose smoothly to his feet and told the footman to enter. The possibility of dragging Cassandra into his bedchamber and barricading the door occurred to him. He decided that might merit serious consideration later.
Although neither of them ate very much, food and talking about the wedding had the effect of lessening the tension that had begun vibrating the air between them. Sebastian said nothing about the dramatic events of two nights ago. He would tell her, of course – but it wasn’t something he wanted intruding on their wedding day. However, Cassandra made it impossible for him to completely avoid the subject of Blanche, so he said negligently, ‘She doesn’t like me. She never has. And she makes no secret of it.’
‘But why?’
‘I’m a blot on the family escutcheon.’
‘No you’re not.’
‘Now I’m not,’ he agreed. ‘Now I’m a respectable married man. And if I misbehave, Gerry has threatened to put my head through a wall.’
‘He what?’ demanded Cassie, sitting very straight. ‘He’d better not try!’
‘That’s my girl!’ laughed Sebastian, rising and offering his hand. ‘No need to tell him he’ll be putting his hand in a wasps’ nest, though. If the occasion arises, I’ll enjoy seeing you reduce him to pulp.’
Returning to the sofa, he sat down and pulled her into his lap. For a time, he just held her, his cheek against her hair before tilting her head up for a long, inviting kiss. Then he said, ‘Are you tired?’
‘No. I probably should be, but I’m not. This – us being together like this – is all too new and precious.’ She traced his cheek with her fingers. ‘I know we have the rest of our lives. But I can’t bear to say goodbye to today. Is that silly?’
‘No. And you don’t have to say goodbye to it.’ His voice took on a darker, slightly roughened note. ‘We have tonight.’
Once again, the curl of heat in her belly caught her unawares. Not knowing how best to phrase it, she said awkwardly, ‘Perhaps I might m-make myself more comfortable?’
‘Yo
u’re not comfortable here?’
‘Yes but that’s not --’ She stopped, catching his expression. ‘I didn’t mean that.’
‘I know.’ He stood up, taking her with him. ‘Go and rid yourself of the demon corset, by all means – though I should perhaps mention that we bridegrooms aren’t averse to helping with that kind of thing.’ He saw her eyes widen but prevented her from speaking with another brief kiss. ‘Off you go. I’ll have the dishes removed … and shed my cravat, if you’ve no objection.’
‘No. Only your cravat?’ And fled to her bedchamber before he could answer.
While the footman cleared the remains of their supper, Sebastian made his own preparations. Smiling a little, he discarded rather more than his cravat, washed, freed his hair from the jewelled clasp he’d worn for the wedding and brushed it out. Then, having donned a resplendent bronze-green dressing-robe, he returned to the parlour, bearing a large brass-bound box and proceeded to set out its contents on the low table by the sofa.
This was more than a means of passing the time while he waited. It stopped him dwelling on the artificiality and ritualism of a bride being readied for her husband and also helped silence his niggling anxiety about making love to a virgin. Although he knew the theory, it wasn’t something he’d done before – and the idea of hurting Cassandra twisted something inside him. He was also only too aware that no matter how slowly he intended to take things, his body would soon have ideas of its own. And so, since worrying wasn’t going to help, he concentrated on a task his hands could have performed in the dark.
Hesitating self-consciously in the doorway behind him, Cassie watched for a moment and then said, ‘I’m sorry. Have you been waiting long?’
‘All my life, darling,’ he began, rising and turning so quickly that the robe swirled about him. Then he stopped, barely able to breathe as he took in the loosened hair tumbling down her back and the trailing white robe, worn open over a nightgown of the finest silk which outlined the curve of her breasts, and was caught up here and there in strategically-placed pink bows. Both garments were cut to invite, rather than conceal; and beneath the hem, her bare toes peeped out … dainty and perfect with small pearly nails. Desire ripped through him like a tidal-wave, forcing him to clench his hands on the sash of his robe rather than reach for her.
Hell, he thought despairingly. If I can’t calm down, this is going to kill me.
On a slow exhalation, he said, ‘But it would be worth a lifetime to see you as you look right now.’
‘That is … a particularly lovely thing to say.’ Uncertainly, Cassie advanced a couple of steps, taking in the glories of his dressing-robe and shocking herself slightly by wondering what, if anything, he was wearing underneath it. ‘What were you doing?’
Taking care not to go any closer to her until he had himself under control, he stepped to one side and gestured to the table. ‘It’s the Casparov chess set I told you about.’
She moved to his side, staring down at the pieces on the board. The black ones were ruby-studded obsidian; the white, pale emerald-encrusted jade; and the kings and queens were crowned in gold.
‘It’s beautiful.’ Cassie perched on the arm of the sofa, studying the board. ‘But also a bit … I don’t know … sinister?’
‘I agree.’ Putting the White Queen in her hand, Sebastian sat down and toyed idly with its black counterpart. ‘There’s a legend attached to it which says it must always belong to the last person who won a game whilst playing with it.’
Cassie watched the drift of his hair against his cheek and the way his fingers touched the finely-carved piece. Both called to her body. ‘You.’
‘Yes. I wasn’t expected to win but I did. And now I intend to keep it.’ Setting down the Queen, he took her hand and teased the inside of her wrist and her palm with his thumb. ‘On our eighth birthday, Great-Aunt Flora gave Theo and me a chess set. Theo took to it straight away. I had less patience.’ He smiled crookedly down at their joined hands. ‘After Theo died, I couldn’t bear to look at a chessboard. It wasn’t until Cambridge that I began playing again and discovered I had an aptitude for it.’ He hesitated and finally looked into her face. ‘The Casparov is always set up and apparently in play. It’s not unusual to practice by playing against oneself. But I … insane as it sounds, I imagine I’m playing against Theo.’
‘Oh.’ Cassie slid off the arm of the sofa and into his lap. Brushing back his hair and kissing his brow, she said, ‘It’s not insane if it brings Theo close for you. Put it wherever you wish and I’ll make sure no one but you ever touches it.’
‘Thank you.’ Breathing in the scent of her hair, he allowed his hand to trail lightly over her hip and thigh, then back again. He said, ‘It’s our wedding-night and I’ve been talking about chess. If you name a forfeit, I’ll pay it.’
You weren’t talking about chess. You were talking about your brother, thought Cassie. And I’m glad that at last you’re able to. But she said, ‘Anything?’ Beneath the opulent brocade robe was the warm skin of a firmly muscled chest. For a few seconds, the discovery made her dizzy.
‘Yes.’ His tongue found a sensitive spot beneath her ear and he concentrated on her quiver of response rather than the drift of that small, soft hand. ‘Anything.’
‘Well, I’ve been wondering …’ Finding that his shoulders were no less splendid than his chest made it impossible to think so she tangled her fingers in his hair instead.
Sebastian set his jaw. ‘Yes?’
‘I was wondering,’ she whispered, ‘if you are wearing anything at all under your robe.’
The air evaporated in his lungs and he had to force himself to breathe.
‘Wouldn’t you like to find out for yourself?’ he managed to ask.
She buried her face against his neck. ‘Yes. I think … Sebastian, I think it’s time you took me to bed. If that would be all right?’
He stood up, taking her with him and said, ‘It would be very much all right, darling. To be truthful, I don’t think I could have held out much longer.’
As he carried her towards his bedchamber, Cassie said, ‘Why hold out at all?’
‘Because it’s your first time, love.’ He smiled at her. ‘I want you so very badly, you see … but even more than that, I want to make it good for you. So I need some self-control.’ He pushed the door shut with his foot. ‘Lock it. I’m not risking further interruptions.’
She did so and he carried her over to the bed to set her on her feet and gently nudge the flimsy chamber-robe from her shoulders. His senses were full of her and his hands were no longer quite steady so he folded his arms about her and kissed her. A tiny sound escaped her and he felt her melting even closer, her hands clinging to his shoulders. Finally, he lifted his head and, creating a little distance between them, said, ‘All these pretty bows … do any of them do anything?’
Cassie swallowed hard. ‘Wh-Why don’t you find out?’
His heart missed its usual beat, then resumed with a thud.
‘I’d like that.’ He appeared to contemplate the various choices and eventually tugged lightly at one of the ribbons at her shoulder. It slithered free and the silk fell away, exposing one breast. With a groan of mingled torment and appreciation, Sebastian stroked the lovely curve with his palm and marvelled at her immediate response.
Sucking in a breath, she reached for the sash of his robe and then hesitated.
‘May I?’ she asked, meeting his eyes uncertainly.
He laid his hands over hers but said, ‘Yes. You don’t need to ask. You may do anything you wish and be sure I’ll enjoy it.’ And with a smile as he freed her hands, ‘Men are simple creatures, sweetheart. And I love you.’
Cassie untied the sash, pulled the two sides of the robe slowly away from each other … and was suddenly very still. With the merest hint of a shrug, Sebastian sent the robe to the floor and stood equally still, watching her. Somewhat belatedly, it occurred to him that letting his innocent bride look at a fully aroused naked male wasn�
��t perhaps the best idea he’d ever had. But mercifully Cassandra hadn’t got to the aroused bit yet. Her eyes were too busy devouring his upper torso.
She said, ‘Simple? You – you’re beautiful. I had no idea. That is … I had but I didn’t realise …’ She stopped abruptly, her eyes widening and her breath escaping in a sort of whoosh. ‘Oh!’
Sebastian felt fairly sure he was blushing but had the faintly hysterical thought that Cassandra wouldn’t know because her gaze was riveted elsewhere. Oddly enough, she didn’t look alarmed or even shocked. She looked … intrigued. No. She looked curious.
And he’d just told her she needn’t ask.
He caught the thought the instant it was born and managed to check her hand’s descent. Then, answering the question she hadn’t asked and in the most matter-of-fact tone he could manage, he said, ‘By all means – but not just now, if you don’t mind. In fact, I think we’ll ignore that for a while.’
‘Ignore it?’ she echoed incredulously. ‘How?’
He shouldn’t have laughed. Given that his arousal was heading towards discomfort and he’d just been embarrassed by her perusal of a currently ungovernable part of his anatomy, he shouldn’t even have wanted to … but somehow he couldn’t help it. He said unsteadily, ‘You may leave that to me – though I thank you for the unintentional compliment. For now, however, it doesn’t seem fair that I’m the only one of us standing here without a stitch on.’ And making swift work of two more bows, he watched the nightgown slide slowly, almost reluctantly to the floor, revealing slender curves and pink-tinged alabaster skin, inch by glorious inch. Desire was thundering through him with an insistent beat and he skimmed the line of waist and hip with his fingertips; he wanted to lick every bit of her. He said unevenly, ‘Did you know I fell in love with your back at Bedford House?’
