Falling for the Marquess (American Heiress Trilogy Book 2)

by Julianne MacLean

  Yes, he should be able to relax somewhat. There was a small measure of space now.

  So. All he had to think about was the very pleasant task of providing his line with the future Marquess of Rawdon. He would devote himself entirely to his wife’s pleasure, hour upon hour, until she was completely satisfied and sighing in his arms.

  Not such a terrible fate after all.

  Clara waited in her room that night for her husband to come to her.

  Her husband. It hardly seemed real. One day, she was adoring him from afar, not even knowing his name. Now she was married to him—to her mysterious dream lover.

  Just then, the doorknob turned, and her husband entered the room. Her breath caught in her chest at the awesome sight of him. He wore a black silk robe and approached the bed like a panther—all confidence and suave seduction. If there was any resentment in his mind left over from that morning, he certainly didn’t show it. He looked completely at ease and full of anticipation.

  “You were right,” he said, climbing onto the bed. “It was a good idea to consummate our marriage in advance of the wedding. Tonight, there will only be pleasure.”

  Pleasure. It was always the priority.

  She gazed at him with a sense of bewilderment. This was her wedding night, but she didn’t know how to feel. She couldn’t be frightened, because they’d already made love, and there was nothing to fear as far as her body was concerned. She should be looking forward to the pleasure he promised to give her.

  But there was a small part of her that worried that he did not trust her, and that they would never be able to move past this wrinkle in their relationship because of what he’d learned about Gordon that day.

  Seger rolled onto his side, rested his cheek on his hand and gazed at her with rakish eyes. She couldn’t help but smile because her new husband was clearly in the mood for fun, and it wasn’t much of a stretch to find her own yearnings for such delights. This was the basis of their marriage, after all. At least up until now.

  “I thought it went well today,” Seger said. “The food was superb.”

  “Delicious. I especially liked the cream cakes.”

  “Ah, you like desserts. I knew it,” he said wickedly.

  “Knew what?”

  He ran his finger along her jawline and down the front of her neck. “Some women enjoy appetizers, while some prefer the main course. But you...I had you pegged for a dessert woman.”

  “We women fall into such simple categories,” she replied.

  Seger laughed. “But is it true? You look forward to the dessert, even when you’ve already eaten enough and are completely sated.”

  “Yes, it’s true,” she said with laughter. Then her voice became sultry. “And what do you like, Seger?”

  He sat up and helped her remove her nightgown. “Everything. I do enjoy the appetizer, but when the main course arrives, I think it’s the best—the most substantial part of the meal.”

  He gazed at her naked form in the flickering lamplight. Clara laid her head back on the pillow, enjoying the way he admired her with such voracity.

  “Tonight, I would like to be your appetizer, main course and dessert,” she said. “Consider it my wedding gift to you.” She tossed her arms up behind her head and crossed one leg over the other.

  Seger devoured her with his eyes, then he removed his robe and tossed it onto the floor.

  Clara loved that she could have this effect on him in bed. This part of their marriage, at least, was perfect. If only that perfection could spill over onto everything else.

  Naked, her husband rolled on top of her and pressed his mouth to hers.

  “Perhaps we could forego the appetizers this time around,” Clara suggested breathlessly. “After a week away from you, I’m afraid I am craving the main course.”

  He laughed and gathered her close. “You are a dream.”

  A moment later, smoothly and skillfully, he entered her. Clara sucked in a breath, elated by how he filled her. Bliss shot straight to her core. Seger moaned and withdrew. He rose up on his arms above her, drove forward again, and struck that part of her where pleasure seemed to begin and end, all at once.

  Losing herself in the feverish ache that reduced her to something sweltering and unfamiliar, Clara sighed as Seger made love to her in the flickering light. Before long, she felt her senses reach a peak and clutched at Seger’s broad shoulders. Clara drove her hips upward to meet each of his firm, deep thrusts.

  Afterward, her body relaxed, and she didn’t care about anything outside of that moment. All her doubts and insecurities disappeared, replaced by a physical satisfaction that somehow went beyond the physical—so much so it was confounding.

  She opened her eyes and looked up at her husband. He was still inside her, moving with the hypnotic cadence of a poem. His eyes held hers, and for a brief instant, she felt as if she were floating.

  Seger then let his own passions take him where they would, and he groaned with the ultimate fulfillment. Clara hoped he was putting a child in her womb. She wanted a baby with him. She wanted to do and share everything with him.

  Slick with sweat, he collapsed on top of her and held her for a few minutes, then rolled off her and smiled.

  “I have only one question,” Clara said.

  He turned his head on the pillow to look at her.

  “I don’t want to be presumptuous, but when is dessert being served?”

  He laughed out loud and rolled to face her. “As soon as my cake rises, darling.”

  She laughed as well and nibbled on his earlobe. “How long will that take?”

  “Not long.”

  She slid her hand down his muscled chest. “The main course was delicious, but you’re right—even when I’m satisfied, I’m still hungry for a little more. Strange, isn’t it?” She leaned up on one elbow and laid a trail of kisses down his abdomen. “Do you mind if I turn up the heat in your oven?”

  Seger lifted his head to look at her. “Kitchen skills too?” He weaved his fingers through her hair, then closed his eyes and relaxed back down on the pillow. “I had no idea I married a woman with so many hidden talents.”

  “I don’t mean to brag,” she replied, “but I’m a very fast learner.” And down she went.

  Clara woke the next morning to bright sunlight streaming in through the windows. Seger’s arm was stretched across the bed, just below her pillow in the crook of her neck. She was still naked.

  This was bliss.

  She inched a little closer, admiring Seger’s beautiful face as he slept. She touched her nose gently to his, wanting to kiss him but not wanting to wake him, for they had slept very little the night before. Chivalrous to the end, he had given everything to her pleasure, delivering ecstasy again and again, and for that, he deserved another hour of slumber.

  Gazing at his face as he slept, looking at his peaceful countenance and the divine structure of his cheeks and nose, she felt drunk with fascination. She remembered the exquisite feel of his hands on her body in the darkness, and the way she had opened herself to him. He was a man of infinite skill when it came to a woman’s desires. His energy was limitless, his desire to satisfy never ending. She had been exhausted when dawn came. Then he’d finally let her sleep, knowing with certainty that she was fulfilled. Her hunger for what he offered had been satiated, her thirst quenched, and afterward, she had slept better than any other night of her life.

  Suddenly, a knock sounded at the door. Seger awakened sleepily, gazing around as if he didn’t know where he was. As soon as he saw Clara’s face, he rolled toward her, took her into his arms, and tried to go back to sleep.

  “Seger, the door,” she whispered.

  The knock sounded again, and he lifted his head. “Who is pounding at my door the morning after my wedding night? It had better be important.”

  Sluggishly, he rose from t
he bed, pulled on his robe and went to see who was knocking. He opened the door a crack and Clara recognized the butler’s voice.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you, my lord, but there is a gentleman caller here to see you. He says it’s urgent.”

  “Urgent? Who is it?”

  “His name is John Hibbert, my lord.”

  Seger stepped back and began to close the door. “I don’t know anyone by that name. Tell him to come back later.”

  The butler persisted. “He says it concerns Miss Flint, and it is a very urgent matter.”

  Seger held the door half open. “Gillian? Has something happened? Tell him I’ll be right down.”

  “What’s going on?” Clara asked, tossing the covers aside and slipping out of the bed. She reached for her wrap and pulled it on.

  Seger pulled on his trousers. “I have no idea, but I must find out right away.”

  “Yes, of course you must.” With no shortage of concern, Clara watched him leave.

  Chapter 16

  Seger entered the drawing room where the gentleman was waiting. He wore a shabby-looking suit and held a bowler hat in his hands and straightened uncomfortably when he locked eyes with Seger.

  “Sir, you have disturbed me at a most inopportune time. I hope this is important.”

  The man spoke shakily. “It is, my lord. Gillian Flint...is she a relative of yours?”

  “A relative by marriage, yes. She is my stepmother’s niece. What of her?”

  The man turned his hat over in his hands. “I regret to inform you that Miss Flint fell from her horse in front of my house this morning. She was unconscious and a good civilian brought her to my door. My wife is with her now. The young lady mentioned your name.”

  Seger tensed. “Is she all right?”

  “Shaken up, to be sure, but I reckon she’ll survive.”

  “Have you summoned a doctor?”

  “No, my lord, I came straight here.”

  Seger nodded. “Thank you for bringing this news to me, sir. Wait here, if you please.”

  Seger left the drawing room and requested that his coach be brought around to the front door posthaste. He returned to the room just as Clara appeared in a simple morning dress with her hair in a loose knot.

  “Gillian has been hurt,” he told her.

  “What happened?”

  “She fell from her horse. I must go and fetch her right away. Will you tell Quintina to send word to my physician to meet me at this gentleman’s home?”

  Seger questioned the man, who related the address to Clara.

  A short while later, Seger was stepping into the coach with John Hibbert, but paused when he heard Clara call his name from the front door.

  “Wait!” Without so much as a shawl or gloves or hat, she bounded down the steps and practically leaped into the coach. “I’m coming with you.”

  Seger helped her inside and shut the door behind her.

  Clara sat by the sofa where Gillian rested in the Hibberts’ front parlor and listened to the physician speak to Seger at the door.

  “She’ll be fine,” the doctor said. “No signs of bruising or any broken bones. I believe she is simply distressed, as any lady would be. You might want to take a look at that horse, however. Miss Flint said he bucked suddenly without any cause whatsoever.”

  Seger shook the man’s hand. “I will, Dr. Lindeman. Thank you.” A few minutes later, Seger entered the parlor. “You gave us quite a fright, my dear girl,” he said to Gillian.

  She squeezed Clara’s hand. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to cause this much trouble. I was riding too fast, I suppose.”

  Sensing the girl’s embarrassment, Clara pushed a lock of hair away from her forehead.

  “Why would you do such a thing?” Seger asked. “And why did you go out alone without your groom? It’s not like you to be so careless.”

  She shrugged. “I know it was foolish...I...I simply couldn’t help myself. I felt reckless this morning.” Gillian leaned up on both elbows. Her gaze flitted back and forth from Seger to Clara. “I didn’t mean to disturb you, the morning after your wedding.”

  An uncomfortable silence ensued, and Clara tried quickly to dispel it. “Nonsense. Don’t be silly. We’re just glad you’re all right.”

  Gillian smiled up at her. “Yes, me too.”

  Mrs. Hibbert entered the room. “Would anyone like a cup of tea?”

  “No, thank you, Mrs. Hibbert,” Clara replied. “You’ve been very kind.”

  The woman bowed slightly and left the room again.

  “All this reminds me of the time I fell at Rawdon Manor,” Gillian said. “I was only twelve. Do you remember, Seger?”

  He smiled kindly at Gillian. “Of course. I remember how you cried.”

  Clara gazed down at Gillian’s face and saw a warm radiance in her eyes.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  Seger reminisced. “Gillian was running, that’s all I saw. I don’t know where she was running to, only that she fell. You went down very hard. Your nose scraped the rocks.”

  She touched it. “I still have a small scar.”

  “Barely noticeable,” he replied.

  Gillian tried to sit up. “But you came to my rescue.”

  “I merely carried you into the house.”

  Clara watched the exchange and realized that Gillian was like a sister to Seger. She hoped Gillian would become like a sister to her, too.

  Seger glanced toward the front hall. “Perhaps it’s time to leave the Hibberts to their day,” he said. “Will you be able to walk, Gillian?”

  “I believe so.”

  “I won’t have to carry you this time?” he said merrily.

  Eyes flashing with delight, she giggled and shook her head. “No, Seger.”

  “Good. I’ll summon the carriage, then. Are you ready, my dear?” he said to Clara.

  She nodded and took his hand as he helped her to her feet.

  Gillian chose her newest, most fetching gown when she dressed for dinner that evening. Quintina had convinced her that the color amber brought out the best in her complexion, especially in candlelight, and went well with her sand-colored hair. Quintina also chose a pearl-and-diamond choker from her own collection to go with the gown and lent it to Gillian.

  Gillian watched herself in the mirror as her maid hooked the choker at the back of her neck. She wished she had been more daring with her appearance before now, when it was probably too late.

  She supposed if things didn’t work out with Seger, at least she would have learned a thing or two from Clara about how to attract a man. She’d never experienced admiration from a man before—at least not a man worthy of her notice.

  Gillian touched the pearls at her neck. Yes, if things didn’t work out here, she would put this new knowledge to good use and do even better than Seger. A duke, perhaps? That would be very satisfying. She would outrank Clara at social functions. Her blood quickened at the thought. Perhaps one day, she would have an opportunity to give her the cut direct.

  Just then, a knock sounded at her door and Quintina walked in. She waved the maid away and moved to stand behind Gillian, who looked at her aunt in the mirror’s reflection. “Well?”

  Quintina rested her hands upon Gillian’s shoulders. “You look stunning, my dear. He will be very surprised. We should have been dressing you like this all along.”

  “I thought the very same thing a moment ago, Auntie. Why didn’t we?”

  Quintina released a sigh. “I thought he would prefer someone demure for a wife. Someone like...well, you know.”

  “Yes.”

  Someone like Daphne. A merchant’s daughter who dressed like...like a merchant’s daughter.

  Gillian bristled just thinking of her. Daphne hadn’t even been all that pretty. Seger’s affection for her had
never made any sense to Gillian. She thought the girl was no better than a dairy maid. Surely, Seger would have realized that eventually. Even if Daphne had not gotten on that ship to America, he probably wouldn’t have married her in the end. He would have come to his senses.

  Quintina fiddled with Gillian’s hairstyle in the back, folding locks into place. “It went well this morning, don’t you think? We got them out of bed at any rate.”

  “Yes, and the Hibberts were very helpful.”

  “Did you feel badly about lying to them?” Quintina asked.

  “Gracious, no. They think they did a good deed, and Seger thanked Mr. Hibbert, who is probably bragging about it at the local pub as we speak.”

  Quintina nodded. “Well, let us go.”

  Gillian gathered up her gloves and stood.

  They crossed the room toward the door, but Quintina paused before opening it. She turned around to face Gillian. “Remember, look directly into his eyes when you speak to him, darling. You must make him see you in a new light. Meanwhile, I will handle Clara. I know exactly what to do. She won’t last long.”

  Quintina glanced down at Gillian’s low neckline, then lifted her gaze and smiled. “I believe you have larger breasts than she does.”

  “Auntie!”

  “It’s true, my dear. That gown is perfect. Now come along.”

  That evening after dinner, Seger retired to his study to attend to some business matters, while Clara played the piano for Quintina and Gillian in the drawing room. Gillian sat under a lamp, embroidering a small pillow. Quintina read a book.

  When Clara finished her piece, Gillian set down her needlework and applauded. “You play beautifully, Clara. It is such a joy to have you here.”

  “It’s a joy to be here,” she replied. “You’ve both made me feel very welcome.”

  “I’m so glad. We are going to be wonderful friends, I know it. We must stay up late and enjoy each other’s company like this every night. We’ll be closer than sisters.”

  Clara stood and moved to sit on the sofa beside Gillian. “But you’re forgetting the parties. The Season is far from over. There were a number of invitations today.”