The Spinster and the Rake

by Eva Devon

  He drew in a slow, steady breath.

  “Are you well?” she asked.

  He nearly laughed. She was a young bride asking him if he was well upon their first night together.

  “I am indeed. Are you?”

  “Yes,” she said, “only you seem different.”

  “Do I?” he queried as he slid her to the floor.

  “Yes, you do, Your Grace.”

  “You must call me Thornfield.”

  “Might I call you Edward?” she asked with a quirk of a smile. “I know people of your standing use titles in intimacy, but it seems so odd.”

  “You may call me Edward,” he said before he considered the strangeness of barely ever using his given name. “For that is who I am. I don’t really like to be called by my title. It seems so…”

  “Thorny?” she said playfully.

  “Yes,” he said, pulling her toward him in a great embrace that turned warm and soft.

  “Aren’t you thorny?” she asked, as her hands pressed against his back. “You do seem to try to make everyone believe so.”

  He shook his head. “I cannot explain why I act so. I have always done. My parents tried to assist me, but it seems to be my nature. But with you, the world seems to still a bit, and I can focus on you, on the lines of your face, the light of your eyes, the tilt of your mouth, and the way you defy convention. It makes everything go away.”

  “Everything?” Her eyes narrowed as she clearly tried to understand.

  “Yes,” he said. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to describe how he felt so often. “You help the rattle of this world, the buzz of it all, the shaking of it…dim.”

  Her brow furrowed, and he wondered if he had said too much.

  “I am glad.”

  “You and I, Georgiana, we are who we are without alteration and without artifice.”

  And he wondered how long that could remain. But he would enjoy it and keep it as long as he could.

  Chapter Sixteen

  If anyone had asked Georgiana but a fortnight ago if she would be a spinster or no in less than a month’s time, she would have guffawed in their face…after she rolled her eyes rather hard at such an asinine question.

  Of course, she’d be a spinster. From the night of her first card party she’d known that the general life of a married lady was not for her. But now, not only was she not a spinster, she was a young wife swept up by connubial enticement and conjugal vows.

  No bloodless, dry marriage for her.

  Edward, even if he seemed in complete control, gazing down at the world with judgment, was a man who held an inferno of desire at his very core. Much to her surprise, it burned for her.

  “Are you afraid?” he asked softly, tipping her chin back with his thumb and forefinger.

  It was a kind question, but fear had never been an emotion she’d given much sway. Fear, in her opinion, caused a good deal of trouble, for it made people act in the most terrible of ways.

  His touch stirred such powerful feelings inside her, but fear most certainly wasn’t one of them. “Should I be?”

  “Some young ladies are, as I understand.” He eased down beside her, stretching out his long legs. It was a languid unfolding of limbs and a captivating display of masculinity. “Shouldn’t like you to run screaming into the next room because I had not had this conversation with you.”

  She gave him a look of mock horror. “That you think me even capable of such vapors is an insult.”

  He blinked rapidly, then a hesitant smile curved his sensual mouth. “Forgive me. I should have known you would not be easily overborn.”

  “I have read of it. I am no stranger to anatomy books and novels, as you know.”

  His eyebrows rose ever so slightly. “You are an excellent theorist, then.”

  She considered this. “Excellent is too strong a word, but I am not ignorant.”

  His gaze fell to her lips, the look of a man who had not eaten for days spotting his favorite dish. “Then shall we put theory to practice?”

  She rather liked the way he used reading and study to ease her into this, for if she was honest, she was nervous. Only a foolish person wouldn’t be, and foolish she was not.

  He was not a small person, and while she found the way he dominated a room with his remarkable physical power most fascinating. She was a tiny bit daunted that they were about to… Well, no matter how much she wanted him, it did give one pause.

  Georgiana drew in a calming breath. She wasn’t a ninny and she wasn’t about to begin acting like one. The action drew his gaze to her bosom. Oh so slowly, he lifted his large palm and skimmed the slightly calloused tips of his fingers over her breasts.

  She gasped at the subtle onslaught. No one had ever touched her so boldly and gently at once.

  “Tilt your head to the side for me,” he urged, his voice delicious.

  Bracing her hands on the soft woven rug beneath her, she made herself comfortable, leaning back, and did as he bid. She had no idea what he intended and gazed at him through slitted eyelids. Wary, but desperately curious for this awakening.

  Something in his face changed, then. The usual sharp intelligence warmed with hunger and he lowered his head, kissing the curve of her neck. His lemon, leather, and cinnamon scent surrounded her. She drank it in, delighting in the masculine freshness of it. She felt surrounded by him, and the kiss…

  It never would have occurred to her that the brush of his lips over the place where her neck met her shoulder might be so enticing, but the pleasure of it raced through her blood straight to the rather fascinating place between her thighs.

  As he trailed open-mouthed kisses with agonizing slowness down to her clavicles, her world spun. She’d expected him to kiss her as he had done before. On her lips.

  Not here.

  He lingered over her breasts, gazing at them with an admiration she’d never seen in a man before. Then he lowered his head, skimming his mouth over them.

  Her elbows trembled a bit and she found herself tempted to lay all the way back before the ruby glow of the fire.

  Edward swept her up into his arms, and with utter ease bore her to his bed, the great bed that was the largest she’d ever seen. Gently, he placed her down onto the soft counterpane. He stilled in his ministrations and gazed at her. “Follow your instinct, Georgiana. And I will follow your desire.”

  She swallowed.

  What the blazes did that mean?

  Given her vast inexperience, she really couldn’t know, and oh how she longed to know. So, she followed his suggestion and paid heed to her inner voice.

  The silky fabric beneath her felt cool against her back as she settled down. The soft goose down embraced her as she allowed herself to trust him…and more importantly, herself.

  And she did trust both of them implicitly in this.

  Edward easily slipped free the hidden ties at the front of her bodice and then slid her gown over her shoulders, and shimmied it down her legs.

  She made no comment about the ease in which he did it. In fact, within moments, her stays and chemise were in a snowy pile beside her gown and she was in nothing but her pale stockings before him.

  With him still fully clothed, she bit down on her lower lip, feeling tremendously exposed. Daring herself, she cleared her throat and ventured, “I-I’d like…”

  “Yes?” he whispered, stroking his strong hand along her forearm then up to her shoulder, where he traced his forefinger down the valley of her breasts.

  She could scarce draw breath.

  Her nipples tightened, though he had yet to touch them, and when his fingers teased over her stomach and stroked her hips, it was impossible to weave two thoughts together. “I should like to see you, too.”

  He paused, his dark eyes suddenly alight. “Whatever the duchess commands.”

  D
uchess.

  The word echoed in her head and she could barely wrap her mind around it. From Miss Bly to the Duchess of Thornfield in but a few unexpected hours.

  But even more intriguing was the fact that she liked the word uttered in his rumbling tones.

  Edward locked gazes with her, as if he could caress her from within. He worked his cravat free. Slowly, he unwound it, then he reached for his linen shirt and tugged it from his tight fawn breeches.

  In one smooth stroke, he pulled it up and over his head. It joined her chemise.

  Without looking away, he undid the buttons at the placard of his breeches and once again, the garment and his boots vanished in an instant.

  He was remarkably graceful in his movements as he joined her on the bed. The full sight of him was breathtaking. Of course, she’d seen representations of the male form in art, but she had never seen a real man nude.

  She marveled at his hard body.

  Velvet skin poured over taut sinew.

  The hills and valleys of his chest were captivating. All the defined muscles leading her gaze down…down…down.

  What the devil? It was nothing like the statues she’d seen.

  “You look perplexed,” he said.

  “I do not know what to call it.”

  “Ah,” he replied without embarrassment. “The education of ladies is not particularly thorough in this area.”

  “I agree,” she breathed. “And why… Why is it like that?”

  He answered her question easily, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “My cock is upright because it cannot wait to be inside you,” he said.

  Georgiana swallowed. “I see.”

  “Let me show you.”

  Gently, he took her hand and placed it on his chest. The power he was giving her was unquestionable. He was letting her dictate this. Licking her lips, she decided, she might as well go about this as she had decided to go about everything else. Boldly.

  Georgiana savored the feel of his warm skin beneath her fingers. The living, glorious feel of him. The intensity of it amazed her, for she could hear her own heart beat, and her breath came in faster and faster takes as she let her hand trail lower…and lower…until at last, she let her palm slide over his erect length.

  A hiss slipped from his lips and she yanked her hand back. “Did I hurt you?”

  His lids fluttered shut. He did look pained. “Your touch is heaven, Georgiana.”

  “It doesn’t appear thus,” she protested.

  “It is also torture,” he said, opening his eyes.

  “How can that be?” she demanded.

  “Describing it is rather pointless.” And with that, he bent forward, placed his hands at her hips, and slid her down onto her back.

  Her thighs trembled as gravity assisted her knees in slipping apart. “Whatever are you doing?” she whispered.

  “Showing you heavenly torture,” he drawled. He paused. “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes,” she breathed, stunned that she truly did.

  “Then allow yourself to have this.”

  What the blazes did he mean, allow herself to have—

  His mouth kissed the inside of her thigh and then— Oh!

  His mouth was upon the most secret part of her body, eliciting sensations that she had never experienced.

  Was this possible?

  She wasn’t dreaming. Of that, she was certain. She was not going to suddenly wake up at home. She was truly in his chamber. But the sheer pleasure dancing through her seemed improbable.

  A hungry, pleased sound rumbled from him as his tongue teased her folds.

  She gasped and a feeling so intense shot through her that she reached down and wound her fingers into his hair. Unthinking, she tossed her head to the side and sucked in a breath.

  Surely, she shouldn’t be allowing him to do such a thing! But he was her husband, and a duke. Who was she to tell him he must be mistaken?

  And more so…she liked what he was doing.

  Like was not the word.

  This was beyond all things imagined.

  Edward kissed her again and again, his mouth and tongue circling over her sensitive spot until she thought she couldn’t bear it another moment.

  Her thoughts slipped away until all she could do was feel, and feel she did. Higher and higher, she searched for something. Something she did not know.

  That was indeed heavenly torture.

  Edward slid a finger over her opening, teasing it even as he kissed her between her thighs. A cry tore form her lips as pleasure burst through her body in wave after impossible wave.

  She arched against him, but he didn’t cease, until she lay desperate for air. Once her body was relaxed and warm as molten wax, he knelt before her and said, “This may hurt a bit. Do you wish—”

  “Please,” she rasped. “I want to know.”

  And she did.

  She had uncovered a whole new world of knowledge and she could not wait until the rest of it was hers.

  …

  Edward had never felt so alive or so seen in his life.

  The way he desired Georgiana was indescribable. What was occurring between them went far beyond passion. Far beyond reason. Whatever it was, it made him do things he would have considered mad.

  For instance, a midnight marriage was far beyond his usual approval.

  Not only had he approved it, he had done it.

  Now, he had watched her crest in pleasure, and he felt a surge of pride that was the greatest he had felt in his life. He wished her to love what happened between them. Given the way he hungered for her, his need was going to have no end.

  He wished for her to need him as much in turn.

  But, in this instant, he had to hold himself in check.

  She looked up at him with only a hint of apprehension. He never wished to see pain in her perfect eyes, but this moment, as he understood, could be difficult for an inexperienced young lady. He slid the head of his cock along the slick folds between her thighs, until she arched against him and a moan of desire escaped her lips.

  Edward braced himself on his arms and rocked ever so gently at her opening.

  Her cheeks flushed and she reached up, her hands holding onto his shoulders.

  Then her eyes flared in surprise as he thrust forward, and she yelped.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked, stopping immediately.

  “It is most strange,” she replied.

  She panted for a moment, wiggling underneath him as she tried to adjust to having him within her.

  The feel of her body moving thus nearly undid him, but he held perfectly still, taking deep breaths, keeping his bloody brain and body on task. He could cease if he had to, but damnation, he prayed she would not ask him to.

  Instead, her brow furrowed in concentration and she rocked her hips.

  “That feels much better.”

  “Indeed, it does,” he said. The way her body wrapped around his cock was a glory heretofore unknown.

  Slowly, he began to thrust again, carefully and attentive. Studying her for any sign of distress, he increased the pace of his hips, driving deeper into her body. And when he felt his world begin to come apart, he stroked his fingers between her thighs, seeking the place he knew would send her to perfect heights.

  After a moment, she tensed. Her core rippled around him, and he could no longer hold himself back as he cried out her name.

  For the first time in his life, he let himself go entirely.

  He did not think of the past or the future. He only thought of Georgiana, this moment, and a pleasure so wild he knew that his world had forever changed.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Edward rolled off his bed, feeling completely at ease with the world.

  Or as at ease as he ever had.

 
His feet hit the cool wood floor and he strode over to the fireplace. Crouching down, he did not bother to call for a footman and added another log to the dying embers. He grabbed the poker and carefully jabbed at the ruby red wood that was only beginning now to spring back to a fire. As he hung the brass poker back, he contemplated what he should do next.

  He had quite a long list of things that had to be done.

  Quietly, he headed over to his dressing gown, slipped it onto his shoulders, and picked up one of the ledgers from his desk. He hefted it in his hand, took his traveling desk, and moved back to the fire, for the room had quite a chill.

  He felt content in that moment.

  Things were going exactly as they should, even if he had not planned to be married.

  The night had been a success and he was glad they had married so secretly and in such quick action. It had been exactly what he needed and exactly what he desired.

  And now this morning, it was a relief going back to the tasks necessary to the smooth running of his estates and his dukedom.

  “What are you doing?” Georgiana asked.

  He did not even bother to glance back over his shoulder; he was so absorbed at the task at hand.

  “Edward,” she called rather loudly.

  Had she said his name more than once?

  He was not certain.

  He flipped open the ledger, determined to finish this task. It was absolutely necessary he do so. And he began jotting figures in the book. If he did not sort this particular aspect out, several of his tenants would not be able to have a proper roof this fall when the bad weather came.

  Such a thing was unacceptable.

  “Edward,” she called again.

  “Hmm?” he muttered, realizing some response was necessary.

  “What are you preoccupied with?”

  “Work, Georgiana,” he stated, his eyes still transfixed as his gaze flew over the ledger. Ten roofs to be repaired. How many builders would be required? What exact amount of material?

  Facts and figures began to fly though his head, the room disappearing in a whoosh. He blinked as a strong voice cut through his thoughts.