“Well, I’ll leave you be for a while, as I no doubt you’re eager for me to do, if I know anything about newlyweds. There’ll be a hot meal waiting for you in an hour, should you wish for it, but I shan’t bat an eyelid if you don’t. I’ll leave tea and biscuits outside the door in the meantime, but I’ll not disturb you again, my lord. Ring for me if you need aught, though.”
“Thank you, Widdy,” Ludo said, sending her such a warm smile that poor Widdy looked quite flustered. “For such a lovely welcome. I know we shall be very happy here.”
“Ah, well. All is as it ought to be at last, my lord,” Widdy said, dipping a curtsey before she left them alone and closed the door behind her.
Bunty watched as Ludo moved to the dressing table, touching perfume bottles and silver-backed brushes that must have belonged to his mother with reverent fingers. He lifted one of the crystal bottles and took out the stopper, lifting it to his nose, and smiled. Placing the bottle back with care, he stood by the window and looked out. The light was fading now, twilight settling upon the snow and leaving the landscape hushed and silent. Bunty moved to stand beside him, and he slid his arm about her waist, pulling her close.
“Over that way is Sedlescombe and Battle Abbey, and that way to Hastings. In the summer, we can go to the beach and you can sea bathe. Pevensey Bay is over there, where William the Conqueror landed. There was always a lot of society to be had here, too. A good community, or at least my mother found it so. I’m afraid you may struggle there, what with my black reputation to overcome.”
“Nonsense,” Bunty said briskly, not wanting anything to spoil his good humour, though there was truth in his words. “Soon enough, they’ll see that you’ve turned over a new leaf and are a good husband and a wonderful man, and until then I am more than content to keep you all to myself.”
“Are you?” he asked softly, touching her cheek with a fingertip. “For I don’t doubt the rumours are flying already. The neighbourhood will be bracing itself for wild parties and tales of scandal and debauchery.”
Bunty snorted.
“Well, they must content themselves with my scandal, and how I trapped the wicked Lord Courtenay into marriage and tamed his wild heart. That should entertain them through Christmas at least.” She moved closer to him and laid her head on his chest, hearing the reassuring thud of his heart. “And yes, you daft creature. I am in no need of society just yet. You are all I want for Christmas.”
“I have always hated Christmas,” he said his voice low. “Since mother died, at least. We had wonderful Christmases here. The house was filled with greenery and Widdy cooked up a storm. Mother helped her, too. She liked stirring the plum pudding, and I always put the charms in.”
“Then let us have a Christmas like that,” Bunty said, excitement bubbling through her at the idea. Christmas with her parents had always been a bit dull. It had been a blessing when her friend Freddie had been with them to add some fun to the proceedings. “We’ll have a wonderful celebration, just as you did when you were a boy. We’ll fill the house with food and laughter, and it will be the best Christmas ever. I can make you love it again, Ludo, I’m sure. With a little help, at least.”
“I already do,” he said, laughing now. “I love you, Bunty. My word, I love you so much I get these moments of sheer terror when I’m afraid I’ll wake up and discover I dreamed it all.”
Bunty stared at him, so touched by his words she could not speak for a moment.
“I’m no dream, Ludo,” she said, pulling his head down for a kiss. She pulled back, whispering the words against his mouth. “I’ll prove it to you.”
***
Ludo’s breath caught as Bunty pushed his coat from his shoulders, allowing it to fall to the floor in a heap before reaching for his waistcoat buttons. He’d meant what he’d said. Everything that had happened since he’d accepted that note had brought him such joy he lived in terror of losing it, of waking and finding it a dream, or of something crashing down upon him that would ruin everything. Yet, looking into Bunty’s eyes and seeing her certainty, her confidence in him, he knew now that he was worrying for nothing. This was no dream. This wonderful woman, this home, this future… they were all his. He did not doubt that there would be challenges ahead. There would be difficulties, good days and bad days, for that was life and no one could escape its vagaries and quirks, but he could face it now. Such a short time ago, the world had looked bleak and lonely, and his efforts to change his life had seemed like climbing a mountain with one arm behind his back. Not now. Now he felt he could face anything if Bunty was beside him, and she was. She always would be.
She’d made short work of his waistcoat and had flung his cravat across the room with a wicked grin. He watched, delighted by the anticipation in her eyes as she tugged his shirt from his breeches, and slid her hands under the fabric.
“Christ, your hands are cold!”
Ludo sucked in a breath as goosebumps chased over his skin, but she only laughed at him.
“Wicked creature,” he murmured with affection. “Just see how I’ve corrupted you.”
She nodded, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Indeed you have, my lord. Just think of all the dreadful things I’ve learned these past days in your company.”
“And nights,” he added gravely. “Don’t forget the nights.”
“Oh, Ludo,” she said, her voice trembling with laughter. “I could never forget the nights.”
She made him strip off the shirt, and then stood for a long moment, staring at his chest in a way that made Ludo feel like king of the world. He watched as she bit her lip, considering, and then moved towards him and rubbed her face over his chest like a cat, her hands caressing his skin as she sighed happily. He thought perhaps she might purr.
“Oh, I’ve wanted to do that for an age,” she said, looking up as he quirked an eyebrow at her. “You’re just so….”
“Hairy?”
“Well, yes, but… big and hot and… cuddly.”
“Cuddly?” he repeated doubtfully. “I’m not a kitten.”
She snorted at that. “Certainly not, though you rather make me feel like one, which is lovely.”
He grinned at her, aware he must look smug, but the expression was swiftly wiped from his face as he realised she’d undone the fall on his trousers and was getting to her knees. Her fingers brushed through the trail of hair that arrowed down his belly to the thick thatch from which his arousal strained, begging for attention.
“I found a book when I was packing, Ludo,” she said conversationally. “I’d never seen anything like it.”
“Oh?” Ludo said, not paying much attention, not when her mouth was so close, her breath a teasing whisper of warmth over his taut skin.
“It had pictures.”
“Did it?” he murmured, before his mind snagged on the only book he had with pictures. “Oh!”
“Oh, indeed,” she said, though to his relief she did not sound disgusted, or cross, rather amused and curious.
“It was most… illuminating.”
Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes, please. His brain kept up an internal monologue as she trailed a fingertip along the crease at the top of his thigh, making him shiver.
She leaned closer and her tongue darted out, giving him an experimental lick, and Ludo groaned. She did it again, and he held his breath. With excruciating tenderness, she took him into her mouth and sucked gently. He felt dizzy.
“You like that?” she asked, pleased.
Ludo whimpered.
There was a surprisingly naughty chuckle, and Ludo gave himself over to the most exquisite torture of his life as his wife practised the art of driving him out of his mind. She was a quick study, and it was an embarrassingly short time before his body grew tight, his mind blank and emptied of any thought except the pleasure she gave him.
“B-Bunty,” he said, trying to force her name out, to warn her, but his lust-addled brain could not form words. Ludo gave a hoarse cry and sank his hands into her hair, too far gone t
o stop, to do anything but give in to the orgasm that rolled through him with the force of a tidal wave.
It took him a long moment to come back to himself, leaning on the wall beside him to keep himself upright, for his knees felt ready to buckle. Dazed, he focused on his wife with difficulty, but did not miss the smug expression that curved her lush mouth as she looked up at him from under her lashes.
“My word,” Ludo managed, wondering if he might sit down for a moment. “I’ve created a monster.”
Bunty snorted and covered her mouth with the back of her hand, no doubt to cover up her delighted smile at having brought him practically to his knees.
“Don’t make out like you’re sorry,” she said, grinning at him.
Ludo gave in. He sat heavily down in the nearest chair and quickly divested himself of breeches and boots. He turned a wicked expression on his wife and shook his head. “Oh, no. Not the least bit sorry, love, but… turnabout is fair play.”
Bunty, correctly interpreting the look in his eyes, scrambled to her feet with a little shriek as Ludo lunged for her and swept her up into his arms and over one shoulder. Feeling rather like a caveman returning home with his spoils, he dumped her on the bed, where she bounced invitingly on the mattress before he climbed over her.
“L-Ludo,” she said, wagging a warning finger at her. “If you m-make me scream, I’ll never be able to leave this room, I’ll be so mortified….”
“I always make you scream,” he retorted, making short work of the buttons on her bodice. “And I can live with that. There seem to be advantages to keeping you in my bed at all hours.”
“I’ll never be able to look Mrs Widdershins in the eye again. Nor her husband!” she said, covering her face with her hands.
“You’ll get over it,” Ludo said placidly. “And the rest of the household will just have to get used to it. I may be married, but I have a reputation to uphold.”
“Oh, you’re—”
“Dreadful,” he supplied for her, giving a happy sigh as he exposed her lovely breasts. “Wicked, depraved, utterly reprehensible….”
“Marvellous,” Bunty said closing her eyes, a blissful curve to her lips. “The best, best husband anywhere in the world… ever.”
Ludo cupped her breasts. You lucky bastard, he thought, grinning.
“So… you do want me to make you scream, then?” he asked, all innocence.
Bunty cracked open one eye. “Well, obviously. What are you waiting for, Christmas?”
Ludo gave a bark of laughter and shook his head. “Certainly not, love. I am yours to command. So… prepare yourself.”
He flung her skirts over her head and wondered how his heart could contain everything he felt as Bunty laughed, and then squealed. She laughed louder still when he pressed a kiss to her stomach, then blew a wet raspberry against her skin. She squirmed and wriggled, and Ludo stared down at her in wonder.
“I love you,” he said, serious for just a moment. “And this will be the best Christmas ever.”
Bunty shook her head, smiling up at him, her dark eyes filled with adoration.
“No. Only the first of many best evers,” she said.
Ludo nodded, seeing the certainty in her eyes and believing it.
“Our first best ever, then. The first of many,” he said.
Bunty nodded, and he moved up the bed to kiss her tenderly.
“I love you too, by the way,” she said, stroking his face. “In case you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t,” he said, because he knew now, because he believed he was loved, and wanted, and belonged. “But don’t ever stop telling me.”
He kissed her again, long and slow, and then sat up, staring down at her with a devilish smile.
“Now then, where was I?”
“Making me scream?” Bunty suggested.
Ludo nodded gravely. “Ah, yes. Husbandly duties. Let’s see if we can melt all the snow on the roof, shall we?”
Ludo settled back to his work and, whilst they might not have melted all the snow, he certainly made his wife scream, and laugh, and love him all the more.
Epilogue
“Wherein there are roses at Christmas.”
Five years later…
24th December 1825. Russell House, Kent.
Bunty looked around the dining room with satisfaction. The silver and crystal glittered in the light of the Yule candle that Ludo had lit for her at sunset, as tradition demanded. Her parents were here, having long since come to terms with her wedding Ludo. That their daughter’s marriage was a success was something the most cynical of critics would have been hard pressed to deny. Ludo’s business had gone from strength to strength, in no small part due to Bunty suggesting they give away some of the puzzles to the most elevated members of the ton. Ludo had been sceptical, remarking wryly that they were supposed to sell the things, not give them away, or he’d be bankrupt in short order. However, the tactic had worked marvellously, as those mamas who saw the likes of the Marchioness of Winterbourne’s children playing happily with such a toy rushed out to get one for their own little darlings.
Ludo had also finally given in and allowed Bunty to send one of his paintings to Henry Barbour. The response from the man himself had been no surprise to Bunty, who had long been aware of her husband’s many talents, but had stunned Ludo. To have such an acclaimed artist so thoroughly endorse his work had been the boost to his confidence he had needed, and he had agreed to submit a piece to the Royal Academy’s summer exhibition. If Bunty had been any prouder, she would have crowed.
This Christmas they had a house full, having persuaded Mr and Mrs Middleton and their youngest daughter to come and stay. Mr Middleton’s eldest four girls were now married and off his hands, and the man’s relief was palpable. So only young Betsy remained. She was almost nineteen and would likely spend the entire holiday making sheep’s eyes at Ludo, but Bunty could hardly blame the girl. Besides which, it would do her no good, for Ludo only had eyes for Bunty. It seemed extraordinary, especially after five years and three children, but he could find no fault with her and loved her to her bones. After so many years of finding fault with everything about herself, it was little short of miraculous to Bunty, and she never took his adoration for granted.
A blast of frigid air from the hallway announced his arrival home, and Bunty hurried out to greet him. Their eldest boy, Luca, had wide, dark eyes like his mother, and his father’s thick dark curls and Mediterranean looks. The child was stamping his feet and leaving chunks of melting snow on the floor with a gleeful grin.
“Look, Mama,” he said, holding out a fistful of mistletoe. “Papa said you’d have to kiss us if we brought some home.”
Bunty laughed and ran to him, kissing him on his rosy cheek.
“As if you need mistletoe to get me to kiss either of you!” she exclaimed. “But it’s very pretty. I shall put a red ribbon on it and hang it up for you.”
“Oh, Master Luca, you look chilled through,” his nurse said as she bustled into the hallway. “Let’s get you in the bath and into clean clothes, quick smart, or you’ll not be ready in time for dinner.”
For once Luca needed no chivvying, as he’d seen the splendid feast Widdy had been preparing for days now.
“Baby is sleeping, and I’ll bring Miss Rose down to say goodnight in a bit, my lady,” the efficient Nurse Robinson informed Bunty, with a quick curtsey, before taking Luca’s hand and leading him off for his bath.
Bunty turned back to her husband.
“And what about you?” she asked, smiling at him. “Do I need to get you into a hot bath before dinner?”
Ludo returned a pleased grin but shook his head.
“No. Or, at least, in a minute,” he said. “I have something for you. Close your eyes.”
Bunty laughed and did as he asked, knowing that Ludo would spoil her this Christmas, as he always did. He was forever bringing her presents no matter how often she reassured him she did not need them, but he seemed to enjoy making a fu
ss of her, and she was hardly going to complain.
“You can open them now.”
Bunty gasped at the bouquet of Christmas roses he held out to her, and was at once transported back to their wedding night. He’d decorated his sparse rooms with Christmas roses for her, wanting to make the place welcoming for his new bride.
“Oh,” Bunty said, taking them from him with care. “Oh, Ludo, they’re so beautiful.”
“We found them down near the woods,” he said, his blue eyes alight with pleasure at having made her happy. “I’m going to get Mr Widdershins to plant some in the garden, too, outside your parlour. Then you’ll have them every Christmas.”
Bunty blinked hard and sniffled. Ludo chuckled, pulling her into his arms, careful not to crush the roses.
“Don’t cry.”
“I’m not crying,” she protested, as tears slid down her face.
Ludo touched her cheek and lifted his wet finger for her inspection.
“Proof positive. You’re a proper watering pot these past days, anyone would think—”
He closed his mouth with a snap and took a step back, inspecting her.
Bunty huffed. “Oh, and now you’ve spoiled my surprise. I was going to tell you in the morning.”
Ludo gave a crow of triumph and lifted her up into the air, spinning her around as Bunty shrieked. One of the downstairs maids came running to see what the commotion was about, saw them, blushed furiously, and darted away again.
“She’s new,” Ludo said, grinning. “She’s not used to us yet.”
Bunty snorted, wondering how she ever looked any of her staff in the eyes. Only the knowledge that they were all wildly jealous let her hold her head up.
“You’re sure?” he asked, setting her down gently, one large hand moving to cup her cheek.
“I am,” she said, smiling at him.
“How perfect,” he said with obvious pleasure. “You are quite perfectly perfect.”
Bunty made a sound of incredulity, but he smothered it, kissing her with slow and thorough attention until she remembered they were still standing in the hallway for all to see.
The Christmas Rose: A Rogues & Gentlemen Novella Page 9