The Infamous Duchess

by Sophie Barnes

  “I am the luckiest man in the world,” he told her as soon as she reached him. Lifting her hand, he pressed a kiss to her knuckles and helped her turn so they could face the vicar together.

  The rest happened in a blur and with only a slight awareness of reciting a few important lines that would bind him to Viola forever. Whatever they were, Henry didn’t really care. He would have promised to walk through hellfire for her if that was what had to be done in order to make her his before God and the rest of the world. And then it was finally over, and for a startling second it was almost as if time drew to a halt, announcing the end of the life he had led before her and then ticking onward again with her as his wife.

  Joy surged through him and he pulled her into his arms. “I love you, Mrs. Lowell.” She answered with a wide smile meant exclusively for him and laughed as he bent to kiss her, sealing their union with every bit of passion he felt toward her, the most wonderful woman he’d ever known.

  Viola was tempted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Everything was perfect, especially Henry, who hadn’t stopped looking at her as though she were an angel descended from heaven to bestow a blessing on him. Incredibly, in spite of the swift wedding arrangements, Henry’s mother and grandmother had managed to organize a lovely wedding breakfast at Scranton House. After almost four hours of eating and drinking with friends and family, Viola and Henry had finally managed to take their leave and head for Henry’s more modest town house. Her own would remain in her possession for the benefit of Diana and Harriet and any other women who might one day need a place in which to recover from a difficult life.

  Leaning into Henry, whose arm was wrapped firmly around her waist as they sat side by side in his carriage, Viola considered what was to come with a mixture of thrilling excitement and apprehension.

  As if reading her mind, Henry dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Don’t be nervous, my darling. I have every intention of ensuring that you enjoy all aspects of your wedding day and night to the fullest.”

  “I know,” she said, taking comfort not only in his words but in the way her body instinctively clamored for his. And yet, “It is just . . .” She hesitated, unwilling to bring up the past and ruin the mood.

  Turning slightly, he tipped her chin up so her gaze met his more directly. “You want this, Viola, but your previous experience has been unpleasant. I know this, so you mustn’t fret. Our lovemaking will be entirely different because of the love we share and because I would never ever do anything to hurt you. Nor would I force you into something for which you’re not ready. Just . . . try to put everything else out of your mind so all that remains is you and me and the pleasure we long to give and receive. Can you do that for me?”

  She nodded, and his mouth met hers in a gentle caress that continued until the carriage jostled her toward him and she caught his shoulder for support. The impact forced her more firmly against him, and the deep rumbling growl he emitted in response sent waves of heat darting straight down her middle. His arms tightened and the kiss deepened, transforming into something else entirely, namely a primal urge to claim and be claimed in return.

  “Dear God, we need to get out of this carriage,” he murmured while scraping his teeth against a sensitive spot by her ear. “I cannot wait to fully seduce you.”

  Viola shivered in response and pressed herself further against him in a futile effort to relieve her response to his touch. “Are we almost there?”

  He planted a row of scorching kisses along the length of her neck. “I hope so,” he told her gruffly as she arched up against him. “Bloody hell.”

  Henry kissed her again as if he was starving and she was the nourishment he required to live. It was urgent and rough and unapologetic, and Viola cherished every wonderful second of it until they arrived at his house. Henry opened the door with an urgent thrust of his hand and leapt out so he could help her alight. He then escorted her up the front steps and into the foyer, where they were met by Rex, who proceeded to circle their legs and sniff at their feet. They’d given the servants the day off, so only the pets remained. Newton watched as if bored from his position at the top of the landing.

  “Would you like some treats?” Henry asked. He approached a box on the hallway table and pushed back the lid. “I asked Cook to prepare something special for these two.”

  To Viola’s relief, Rex and Newton had accepted each other almost immediately when they’d been introduced the previous evening. Rex had bounced back and forth a bit as if hoping to get a playful reaction out of Newton. When the cat had walked away without any sign of interest, the pair had both settled down for naps at opposite ends of the parlor.

  “Sit,” Henry ordered. When Rex complied, Henry offered him a large bone with meat still clinging to every side. Rex disappeared down the hallway with his prize.

  Henry directed his attention toward Newton next. “How about you?” He waved a dried herring at the cat, who rose to his feet, stretched his back and proceeded to come down the stairs. Henry gave him his treat and the cat sauntered off to another part of the house.

  Henry turned his full attention on Viola. “Mrs. Lowell,” he said with a glint in his eyes. “The things I have planned . . .” He smirked, no doubt because he could tell she was struggling to remain upright.

  “You did mention something about seduction,” she said, her voice slightly thinner than she’d hoped.

  Henry chuckled. “I did, didn’t I? But before we get to that, I have a surprise for you.”

  “But . . .” She glanced toward the stairs.

  He stepped toward her and offered his arm. “Consider this little detour of ours part of the lovemaking process.” He leaned in, scraping his jaw against hers. “It will only help heighten the anticipation of what is to come—of you and I fully undressed in my bed.”

  “Good Lord,” Viola squeaked as she let him escort her.

  He drew her closer. “On the contrary, I have every intention of being rather bad.”

  Viola’s stomach dipped and her heart took flight, pounding against her chest with increased frenzy. “I see,” was all she could manage to say as visions of him and her in the most debauched embraces proceeded to clutter her brain.

  Henry paused in the doorway to the library and stared down into her upturned face. A wolfish grin tugged at his lips. “Yes,” he murmured, “I believe you do.”

  It took some effort to force her feet to cooperate and to follow him into the room. Was it hotter in here than in the rest of the house or was she simply having a blistering reaction to his words? Of course, he’d collected himself once again while she was left feeling as though she might suddenly combust.

  But then she spied the glass case they were heading toward and she realized why they were there. So she could finally see how the automaton worked. She moved toward it, studying the figure more closely this time than when she’d last seen it. The detail on his face was impeccable.

  Henry reached behind the case and wound a lever. A soft grinding of cogs and wheels accompanied the slow movement of the machine. Viola watched in fascinated silence as the automaton dipped his quill in his inkwell, repositioned himself and proceeded to write. The letters appeared to be neat, though perhaps a bit shaky at times, but overall, it looked as if they were written by a real live person as opposed to by a machine.

  Squinting, she tried to discern the words, but they blurred just enough around the edges to make it impossible for her to do so effectively.

  “These might help,” Henry said, gently nudging her arm.

  Viola glanced down at his hand and smiled. “Thank you,” she said, accepting the spectacles and placing them carefully on the bridge of her nose.

  “I have this relentless fantasy,” Henry murmured while sliding his arm around her shoulders, “of you wearing my shirt and spectacles and with your hair falling softly around your shoulders.”

  Viola’s breath hitched and her skin tingled with awareness. “How am I to concentrate on anything when
you continue to muddle my head?”

  He grinned and stepped away, adding distance. “Forgive me, but you’re a treat I’m having some trouble resisting.”

  Loving the effect she had on him, she gave him an adoring smile before returning her attention to the automaton’s work. Words had started to emerge and Viola was eager to know what they said. She leaned forward and started to read.

  You are my life, my world, my . . . The automaton scratched a few more letters . . . everything.

  “I wanted it to write Shelley’s latest poem for you, but I was limited to only forty characters.”

  Viola removed the spectacles with trembling fingers and turned to her husband, who was standing utterly still, his eyes fixed upon her with intense anticipation. Closing the distance between them, Viola pressed her mouth to his, kissing him with endless degrees of gratitude and affection. She was vaguely aware of tears clinging to her lashes, the joy thrumming through her so powerful it caused her to weep.

  “I am so blessed to be married to you, Henry. You truly are the most incredible man I have ever known.”

  “You don’t know the half of it yet,” he told her, and swept her up into his arms.

  She squealed with surprise and then laughed with delight as he carried her out the room. “But I’m about to show you,” he promised in low, seductive tones.

  Winding her arms around his neck, Viola held on tight as he marched toward the stairs and proceeded to climb. Gone was her earlier apprehension, replaced by wanton desire.

  This was Henry, after all, a man who thought her the most beautiful woman in the world, even if no one else ever had. He loved her, and because of that, Viola knew deep in her heart that whatever passed between them was destined to be special.

  Reaching the landing, Henry turned right and continued toward the door at the end. “I know we never discussed this,” he said as they entered the bedchamber, “but I’m rather hoping you’ll agree to sharing a room instead of sleeping apart. Of course, if you prefer, I’ve—”

  “Yes,” she said before he could finish. “The alternative never even crossed my mind, Henry. I’ve always imagined us sleeping together and . . .” She felt her cheeks warm beneath the heat of his gaze. “I like the idea of us spending as much time together as possible.”

  Setting her on her feet, he closed the door behind them, shutting them away in a lovely room decorated in creamy tones. A massive canopy bed occupied most of the space, dwarfing the armchairs that stood to one side and the dresser beneath the window.

  Viola stared at the bed and tried to steady the rapid beats of her heart, but all effort to do so dissolved when she felt Henry’s hands on her waist. He’d stepped up behind her, his chest pressed securely against her back.

  “Viola,” he murmured, and proceeded to place a series of kisses along her shoulder.

  Sighing, she leaned into the caress and surrendered to his ministrations. His teeth nipped her skin and a frisson went through her, teasing her senses and making her restless.

  Henry’s hands left her waist and slid up her sides, exploring each curve until finally, when she feared she might die from her need to be touched more fully, he gave his attention to the buttons on her gown.

  To her dismay, it felt as though his fingers trembled as he unhooked them, and when he pulled the gown down over her hips and asked her to step out of it, his voice shook.

  On bended knee before her, he gazed up the length of her body as if she were Venus and he her mortal servant. Almost hesitantly, his fingers traced over one ankle and up the length of her leg. He paused when he reached the edge of her stocking, closed his eyes briefly as if in deep veneration and then peeled the silk slowly away.

  Setting the flimsy stocking aside, he went to work on the next one until both legs were completely bare. “You have the most delicate ankles,” he said as he brushed his thumb over her skin. “I noticed when we were at the beach and you hitched up your skirt to prevent the hem from getting wet.” Stroking his way up her calf, he paused to toy with the edge of her chemise. “Since then I’ve had the most demanding need to uncover your knees . . .” He slid the chemise higher. “Your thighs . . .” His palms settled firmly against her as he rose, dragging the fine cotton upward. “Your belly and . . .” He swept the chemise up and over her head, pulling her stays off with it and leaving Viola completely naked. “Your breasts.”

  Viola sucked in a breath. She’d been so entranced by his touch she’d completely ignored his intention. For a second she stood as if frozen, but then she saw his expression and the way in which he was staring.

  “Christ, Viola . . .” He spoke with sensual yearning and with so much desire that all inhibition she might have had ceased to exist at that exact moment.

  Tentatively he reached out and touched her, the reverence in his gaze compelling her to be bold, to abandon restraint and to follow his lead. So she raised her hand and tugged at his knotted cravat and pulled until it was gone. Next came his jacket, which she pushed down over his arms. It was followed by his waistcoat, both items landing on the floor in quick succession. Eager to feel his skin against hers, she grabbed at his shirt and pushed it upward.

  “I love your determination,” he said with a grin as he helped her discard it. His mouth captured hers in the very next second as he pulled her to him so her heart met his. Running his hands over her hips, he wrought several sighs from her lips before lifting her slightly and setting her down on the bed.

  Leaning back, Viola looked at the man she’d married and found herself staring in wonder. His chest was more defined than she remembered from when she’d helped Florian pull a lead ball from his shoulder. The scar was a redder hue than the rest of his skin and so small it was barely noticeable at all.

  “You’re the handsomest man I’ve ever seen,” she told him honestly.

  His chest rose and fell as he stared back at her, almost daring her to avert her gaze as his fingers dropped to the placket of his breeches. Diligently, he worked the fastenings to loosen the fabric until, with one swift movement, he pushed his breeches and smalls down over his hips, all the way to the floor, where they joined the rest of the discarded clothing.

  Nothing in the world, not even a million pounds, could have made Viola tear her gaze away from her husband’s splendor. “Oh my,” she murmured as she took in the lean musculature of his legs and . . .

  Swallowing, she scooted back on the bed. Because Henry Lowell was the very definition of masculine perfection.

  “My experience isn’t exactly—”

  “Hush, Viola.” He climbed onto the bed, and the mattress shifted beneath his weight. “None of that matters anymore, so please rid your mind of it if you can and focus on this instead.” He bowed his head and licked his way along the entire length of her body with such thorough dedication that thinking of anything else became utterly impossible.

  “The way you respond to my touch is thrilling,” he whispered close to her ear while making her moan with the softest caress of his fingers.

  “Henry.” She drew him closer, spearing his hair with her fingers and needing . . . simply needing . . . something more.

  His mouth met hers in a fierce caress as he settled between her thighs. And as he joined his body with hers, Viola welcomed the powerful sensation. Sharing herself with him so completely made her feel whole for the first time ever.

  “I love you,” he assured her, pausing for a moment to meet her gaze.

  “As I love you,” she replied, and then sighed as he started to move. This was the closest thing to perfection she’d ever experienced in her life. She clung to Henry and matched his movements, pushing herself toward the unknown until every sensation her body experienced collided and burst on a wave of euphoric pleasure. And as it did and she started to tumble, a guttural growl was wrenched from his throat right before he collapsed beside her.

  Breathing heavily, he pulled her against him and simply held on. “You amaze me,” he told her after a while. His fingers traile
d along her hip, sparking a new desire. “You are far more passionate than I ever dared to imagine.”

  “I hope you don’t mind,” she said with a teasing lilt to her voice.

  Without warning he rolled her toward him and kissed her deeply. “Not at all, my darling. It is yet another thing for me to love about you.” A wicked gleam lit his eyes. “Because it makes me think you might enjoy this as well.” Upon which he showed her precisely what he had in mind while she in turn wondered how she’d ever find the will to get out of bed again.

  Chapter 25

  Unfortunately she was forced to do so when she and Henry awoke to the sound of loud banging. Groaning, Viola reached for Henry, who was already climbing out of bed.

  “Must we respond?” she asked him while savoring the splendid view of his naked backside. They’d made love until dawn and she was both achy and exhausted, though in the best way possible.

  “It might be important,” he told her while throwing a shirt over his head. Another bang sounded and Henry put on his trousers and left the room without bothering to continue dressing.

  Viola sighed. She desperately wanted him back in bed with her so they could explore each other further. But when he returned to the bedroom a few minutes later, his expression told her that this was unlikely to happen.

  She sat up and pulled the sheets around herself. “Who was that?”

  “Officer Ericson. He wants to give us an update.” Henry came to sit on the edge of the bed. He took her hand in his. “I’ve admitted him to the library, so he’s waiting for us to join him.”

  “Give me ten minutes to get myself ready,” Viola said. She moved to get out of bed, but Henry held her in place.

  Leaning toward her, he pressed his mouth to hers. “I should probably put on my hose and shoes as well,” he murmured against her lips.

  “And stop kissing me or we’ll never get out of this room.”