“I don’t understand.”
Griffin paused, and then bent to remove his boots. It was a clear indication that he meant to stay and a new hunger replaced Olympia’s desire for food altogether.
“My uncle invested poorly for the most part and lost several fortunes. There were a few successful investments that are still producing… a shipping company in Liverpool, there is a salt mine to the south that is still doing well. And I’ve poured yet more funds into those businesses and people know it. If the family secrets that Mrs. Webster and Florence are privy to come out, no one will deal with those businesses… they will fail because the Darkes have been associated with them. And that’s nothing compared to the tenant farmers. What will become of them when local merchants refuse to do business with them? They’ll have no place to sell their eggs, meat, or wool; they’ll have no place to buy the supplies they need to survive.”
Those words quelled her burgeoning desire. “They would destroy everyone just to destroy you. I know that. Neither of them possesses the ability to see beyond their own selfish agendas to even consider the consequences of their actions to others.”
“Precisely. So, I will keep Mrs. Webster mollified. I will watch Florence like a hawk and attempt to rein her in when necessary. But we must try to appease them… whether we like it or not. At least for now.”
Olympia returned the uneaten food to the napkin he’d used to spirit it to her. After tying it up, she rose and walked toward him.
“I will try to remember that there is a valid reason for holding my tongue… but they do try me greatly,” she offered.
He reached out, latching his hands onto her hips and tugging her forward until he could fold her in his arms completely. His head was pressed to her, just beneath her bosom and his hands roamed freely over her calves and thighs as he tugged her nightrail upward.
“Let us not think of them anymore tonight,” he urged. “We are newly wed, after all. It is a time to be obsessively devoted to one another—to the exclusion of all else.”
Olympia sighed as his hands roamed the backs of her thighs, squeezing and caressing with deliberate intent. “You could tempt a saint.”
“I’ve no wish to tempt a saint,” he offered, lifting his head and pressing a hot kiss to her breast through the fabric of her nightrail and wrapper. “I only wish to tempt my wife. Have I?”
“You know you have!”
“Prove it me,” he said. “Let me see you. All of you.”
“You saw me yesterday afternoon… and last night,” she protested, embarrassed.
“Mere glimpses, Olympia. And I was lost in such a state of lust that I fear I did not pay proper homage to all of your charms… Take off your wrapper,” he asked, giving a playful tug to the ties that held it closed.
Olympia’s face burned at the thought. He had seen her, but it all seemed different now. To disrobe completely while he remained fully clothed seemed especially wicked somehow. Yet, she was reaching for the ties, loosening them and letting the garment fall even as her doubts shouted and clamored within her mind. It appeared he could talk her into anything.
When her wrapper lay discarded on the floor, and only the thin fabric of her nightrail covered her body, he pushed her away from him just a bit. His gaze traveled over her hungrily, so intently that she felt it almost like a caress.
“The rest of it, Olympia,” he said. “I want all of you bared to me… to look at you at my leisure and savor the perfection of your body.”
“I am far from perfect,” she protested, embarrassed at such overblown praise.
“You are,” he insisted. “Porcelain skin so soft I can scarce believe it is real, breasts that beg for my touch, to be taken in my mouth… Shall I go on? You blush so prettily when I’ve scandalized you thoroughly.”
“Will you stop saying such things if I remove my nightrail?” she asked.
“If you remove that garment, Olympia, I can assure you that neither of us will be saying very much at all for some time to come,” he promised.
Her mouth went dry and her heart raced in her chest. It was a challenge, but the reward he offered was beyond her ability to resist. With trembling fingers, she reached up and loosened the ties of her nightrail, drawing it open until it simply fell from her shoulders and pooled on the floor. Standing in front of him, she felt vulnerable in ways she’d never imagined. But as she saw his eyes darken, his gaze traveling over her body— that sense of vulnerability faded. Instead, she began to feel powerful. His hunger for her was evident in his expression, in the rapidness of his breathing and the heavy weight of his gaze upon her.
“You almost make me believe I am beautiful when you look at me that way,” she said with wonder.
“Come closer,” he urged. “I will convince you yet.”
Olympia did as he asked, moving closer to him, but he when she was standing between his parted knees, he didn’t tug her onto the bed with him as she’d expected. Instead, he held her there, his hands moving over her, mapping every curve and contour of her body even as his mouth followed. His lips burned a trail along her rib cage, the underside of her breast. When he bit her there, his teeth grazing the tender flesh, she let out a soft yelp of surprise. But what shocked her even more was that she’d enjoyed it thoroughly.
“You are wicked,” she muttered.
“As are you,” he replied softly, his breath fanning over one furled nipple. “Do you deny that everything I’ve done to you and with you, that every touch, has brought you pleasure?”
“No. It would be a lie.” Her response was breathless, her voice thin and weak as he was tracing delicate circles on the crest of her hip bone, each one inching closer to the juncture of her thighs where she was already wet for him.
He drew her down then, slipping his knees between her thighs and parting them until she sat astride him. They were face to face, her breasts pressed against the hard wall of his chest. Even through his breeches she could feel the hard press of his arousal against her. It was an instinctive thing to move against him, to rock her hips against his hardness. It eased the ache growing inside her for just a moment, but when it returned, its force was even greater.
He reached between them, unbuttoning the fall of his breeches. Olympia leaned back glanced down, embarrassed but also eager to see him. She’d been too shy to look at him the night before.
Curiosity got the better of her, and with tentative fingers, she stroked the domed crown. His breath hissed out between clenched teeth and she stopped immediately.
“Don’t,” he said. “It feels wonderful when you touch me that way.”
Olympia did as he bade, exploring the hard length of him, learning the satiny texture of his skin, the impossible firmness of his flesh. Knowing that she pleased him, that it only intensified his desire for her spurred her own desire to new heights. The ache at her center, the sharp and nagging need that only he could fulfill, grew beyond her ability to bear.
As if he’d read her mind and new precisely what she needed from him, he cupped his hand around hers, and with it, guided his rigid length to her entrance. It was an instinctive thing, to simply allow her hips to sink lower, taking him inside her.
The sensation of fullness was still novel to her, and the pleasure it brought still a marvel. His hands fell to her hips, lifting her and then bringing her down again. Olympia bit her lip, trying in vain to hold back the pleasured moan.
“Don’t,” he urged, stroking his thumb over her lip. “Let me hear you. Don’t hide anything from me.”
He surged into her again, and any thoughts of embarrassment, any thought at all, faded. Clinging to him, Olympia dug her nails into the heavy muscles of his shoulders, letting her head fall back as a soft cry escaped her.
Every movement brought a wealth of new sensations, every thrust of his body into hers took the blinding pleasure to new heights. She could feel it building within her, the tension coiling tighter. Every muscle drew taut as she hovered on that precipice.
Griffin
leaned forward, kissed her neck and then bit her there. His teeth scraped over her tender skin as he pressed deep one last time. Olympia simply came apart. There was no other word for it. Her body was wracked with tremors as waves of pleasure washed through her. She clung to him desperately. He stood then, bore her back onto the bed and thrust once, and again, before withdrawing from her completely. The warmth of his release bathed her thigh.
Precautions, he’d said. The term made infinitely more sense to her now. The perfection of the moment faded for her. But she’d agreed to his terms and she’d abide by it. To do otherwise would be dishonorable.
He sank onto the bed beside her, pulling her into his arms. She went willingly, grateful for the warmth and comfort of his embrace. Children hadn’t really been something she’d allowed herself to dream of for the last several years because the possibility of marriage had seemed so impossibly far away. And now, with a husband who desired her, even if love was not to be part of their arrangement— that yearning was growing within her. She resented it, but part of her also resented him. It was unfair and she knew it. He’d been honest with her from the start about that. She would have to make her peace with it, one way or another.
Eighteen
My Lord Darke,
Please forgive me for being absent so long from Darkwood Hall. I am sure you are quite curious as to why it has taken so long for me to complete the business matters in London as you requested. In short, my lord, I am a coward and am avoiding facing certain dismissal as a result of disobeying your orders.
My only defense, my lord, is that I have worked for your family for many years. Before your mother passed away, she requested that I look after you. In disobeying your orders, I am fulfilling my promise to her. Rather than procuring the bride you requested, I attempted to procure the bride that I felt would suit you best.
If I have succeeded in doing so, I will happily await your instruction as to any further business inquiries I should make for you in London. If I have not succeeded, than this letter will serve as my resignation.
My apologies if I have overstepped, my lord. But in all fairness, I must state that Lady Darke, formerly Miss Olympia Daventry, appears very much to be a damsel in distress and though she would hardly appreciate the description, I do hope that you will provide whatever assistance she may need should you deem to terminate the union I have forced upon you.
Your humble and loyal, but far from obedient servant,
Hon. Jasper Swindon, Esquire
Griffin read the letter again. Mr. Swindon’s apologies for disobeying a direct order were quite eloquent. They had also come late enough that the wily old fox knew full well that annulment would no longer be an option.
Still, try as he might, Griffin could not be angry at him. He should be, by all rights, but it would be disingenuous. Any anger he might once have had was overwhelmed by gratitude and by the relief of knowing that Olympia was his.
Sitting at his desk, Griffin penned a brief list of instructions regarding investments he wished to have made on his behalf. He also gave specific instructions as to a gift he wished to obtain for Olympia. If that didn’t allay the old man’s fears of having chosen poorly, nothing would, Griffin though.
With that done, he rose and headed toward the breakfast room. Olympia would be up and he found that he was eager for the sight of her, but that was not a new occurrence.
***
Entering the breakfast room, Olympia paused just inside the door. Griffin was there, but so was Lady Florence. They appeared to have been in quite a heated exchange when she entered, if the broken crockery and wide-eyed footmen were any indication. The tension in the air was palpable.
“I would wish you a good morning,” Griffin said softly, “But I fear it isn’t a possibility anymore.”
“I should go. I’ll have a tray sent up,” she offered.
“Don’t rush off, darling girl!” Lady Florence cooed. Her voice was deceptively sweet but there was murder in her eyes. “We’ve ever so much to talk about. Dear Griffin was just telling me that I’m to be banished. Strange that I should be tossed from my home only after you’ve arrived to occupy it!”
“Enough,” Griffin said. Though he spoke softly, there was a wealth of warning infused into that single word.
“Fine,” Lady Florence relented. “I’ll behave. You may enjoy your breakfast in relative peace and quiet!”
When she made no move to leave, Olympia asked, “Are you remaining here then?”
“I did say relative peace and quiet,” Lady Florence replied snarkily. “Is my presence so disturbing to you that you cannot even bear it when I sit quietly in the same room?”
“Not at all,” Olympia replied as she moved to the sideboard and began to fill her plate. “I simply wasn’t aware that you were capable of sitting quietly.”
Griffin coughed softly, camouflaging a laugh. Taking a seat at the table to his right, Olympia offered him a conspiratorial smile.
“You received a letter yesterday,” he said. “I meant to tell you last night but I forgot.”
“Who is it from? Mr. Swindon?”
“No,” Griffin replied, retrieving the envelope from the pocket of his waistcoat. “It was enclosed with correspondence from Mr. Swindon to me. Apparently, your aunt sought him out and asked him to see that you received it.”
Olympia felt the blood rain from her face. She clutched the edge of the table and willed herself not to faint. “I see,” she finally managed and took the letter from his outstretched hand. Ignoring his look of concern, she tucked it into the pocket of her morning gown.
“Well, don’t keep us in suspense, darling!” Lady Florence cooed. “Tell us what news you’ve had from home!”
Turning to Griffin, Lady Florence continued in a smug tone, “You know, Lady Darke and I were having the most interesting conversation yesterday! I asked her what sort of life she’d been living in London that would make her amenable to the idea of marrying a complete stranger and traveling off to some isolated house in the middle of nowhere. I suppose it’s true what they say… speak of the devil, and he shall appear… or in this case just send a note.”
“Are you all right?” he asked her softly.
“I’m quite fine. Just concerned that it might be a bit of bad news. My uncle had taken ill before I left,” she offered the too pat explanation and hoped that both Griffin and Lady Florence would accept it.
“Then open your letter, dear, and let us all know the poor man’s fate!”
Olympia glared across the table at Lady Florence, annoyed by her insistence and the sing-song tone she seemed to prefer when goading her. With hands that trembled, she opened the letter and scanned the first paragraph. Cold dread washed through her.
It was even worse than she’d expected. Her uncle hadn’t died, after all. Rather, he’d made a miraculous recovery. While he couldn’t yet speak clearly, her aunt stated, he was struggling to regain full function and would undoubtedly be able to tell them everything that had happened the night of his accident.
There was no mistaking the tone of the letter. Her aunt knew something. She suspected that Olympia must have had something to do with her husband’s accident. With her palms sweating and her heart racing, Olympia replaced the letter in her pocket. Collins would have to be told.
“It appears my uncle has made a miraculous recovery… I fear I’m quite overwhelmed by the news. If you’ll excuse me,” she said and rose on knees that trembled.
***
Griffin watched with growing concern as Olympia fled the small dining room. Whatever had been in that letter had upset her terribly.
“Secrets are such ugly things,” Florence said, her voice grating on him.
“Don’t you have a footman to bed?” he asked pointedly.
“I’ve worn him out, I’m afraid,” she said with a smile. “He’s lovely, but he lacks stamina.”
Griffin closed his eyes, disgusted by her and by the forced cohabitation. “Calling you a lady is an in
sult to the rest of them,” he said, and rose from the table.
“And is your lovely bride a lady?” she asked, her voice sharp enough to cut like glass. “Or is she a wildcat in your bed? So demure and yet she cries out so lustily for you in the night… I daresay her screams might even drown out Cassandra’s! But then you always were impressive. You look every inch the gentleman but fuck like a field hand.”
“You’re leaving this house,” he said. “Today. I won’t have you tormenting us any further!”
“I can’t. I’ve nowhere to go,” she said. “Alas, Lady Jane Darlington was my only remaining friend in Liverpool and she’s gotten herself into a bit of a pickle. Her husband has taken her off to the wilds of Scotland and hired a house filled with only female servants and ugly old men. Poor dear. Such a sad fate.”
“Then I’ll be sending for workman to begin repairs on the dower house immediately… even if it is the dead of winter. I can’t abide your presence here a moment longer.”
Lady Florence sipped her tea, her manners perfect and her face a mien of loveliness. “I do wonder what was in that letter,” she said, as she lowered her cup. “She didn’t look to be overwhelmed with relief or joy at the notion that her uncle had recovered… I would actually say that her expression appeared to be one of sheer terror. Why do you think that is?”
He meant to find out, Griffin thought. And whatever it was, he meant to be certain that information never fell into Florence’s hands. “Do not think to press her, to question her, or to vex her in anyway. I’ve allowed you free rein in this house, you and that termagant, Mrs. Webster. But I won’t see her harmed by either of you. If that means tossing you both out and damn the consequences, then so be it. Tread carefully, Florence.”
***
In her chamber, Olympia waited for Collins. She’d rung for the girl only moments earlier but it felt like ages. As she read through the letter again, she wondered if it truly was a veiled threat or if she were simply as paranoid as Mrs. Webster.
A Love So Dark (The Dark Regency Series Book 4) Page 13
