Whirlwind Wedding

by Jacquie D’Alessandro

  He stared at it in silence, warm pleasure spreading through him. While it was customary for his family to exchange gifts on occasions such as birthdays, he couldn't recall the last time anyone had surprised him with a present.

  It took a full minute to locate his voice. "I find myself at a loss for words, Elizabeth."

  "Oh, dear. You don't have to say anything," she said in a small voice.

  "But I do." He dragged his gaze from his gift and looked at her and was surprised to see she appeared distressed. "I suppose I should say thank you, but it certainly seems inadequate for such a thoughtful gift." He smiled at her. "Thank you."

  "Oh! You're very welcome. When you didn't say anything I thought…"

  "Thought what?"

  "That my amateurish sketch was a foolish thing to give a man who has everything, including many priceless works of art."

  "My silence meant nothing of the kind I assure you. It's just that I cannot recall ever receiving such a lovely gift. I was momentarily at a loss for words." His candid admission surprised him. "Where did you get the frame?"

  "Your mother graciously invited me to search about in Bradford Hall's vast storage room and I found it there." A wry grin pulled at her lips. "You would not believe the lengths I had to go to to escape the seamstress's clutches for even a few minutes. In spite of my time away from the pincushion, she fashioned a beautiful wedding gown."

  "Yes, she did." He carefully rewrapped the sketch, then placed it on the seat next to her. "Would you care to sit beside me?" he invited patting the cushion next to his thigh.

  She moved alongside him without hesitation. As soon as she was settled he leaned over and placed a light kiss on her lips. "Thank you, Elizabeth."

  "You're welcome." She smiled at him and he fought the powerful urge to drag her onto his lap and kiss her senseless. Determined not to succumb to desires that would only leave him aching the entire journey, he pulled a deck of cards from his pocket.

  "The trip to London will take nearly five hours," he said shuffling the cards. "Do you play piquet?"

  "No, but I'd love to learn."

  It didn't take him long to realize his new bride possessed an uncanny aptitude for card games. It seemed he'd no sooner explained the rules to her than she was beating him. Soundly.

  Although he'd suggested they play cards to keep his mind and hands occupied and off his bride, things were not going quite as he'd planned. He'd played quite well until she removed the spencer to her traveling ensemble. It was impossible not to notice how her full breasts pressed against the soft peach muslin of her gown as she studied her cards with frowning concentration.

  Then, to make matters worse, she grew warm and discarded her fichu, allowing him a clear view of her creamy skin and an occasional teasing glimpse of cleavage. He found himself staring at her breasts, unable to concentrate, and down two tricks in no time.

  "Are you all right, Austin? Is your head paining you?"

  He snapped his gaze up to her face. "Actually, I feel a bit, er, overheated." He pulled aside the curtain and drew in a relieved breath. "We'll be stopping in a few minutes to change the horses." Thank God. I need air.

  While the coachman changed the horses, Austin gratefully stretched his legs. He kept his eye on Elizabeth, whom he observed a short distance away, bending over some plants.

  When she returned to his side, he helped her back into the coach and they resumed their journey.

  "You'll never guess what I found" she said, settling her skirts around her.

  "By your delighted smile I'd have to guess diamonds."

  She shook her head and held out her bonnet. It was filled with bright red strawberries. "There were dozens of them. The coachman invited me to help myself." Reaching into the bonnet, she picked up a berry and handed it to him.

  "Have you ever heard of the Origin of Strawberries?" she asked, popping one in her mouth and chewing rapturously.

  "No. Is it an American story?"

  "In a way. It's a Cherokee Indian myth. Papa told it to me. Would you like to hear it?"

  Leaning back against the velvet squabs, he said "Absolutely."

  "A very long time ago, there was a couple who were very happy together. But after a time they began to argue. The wife left her husband and headed toward the Sun land far away in the east. He followed her, but the woman never looked back.

  "The Sun took pity on the man and asked if he were still angry with his wife. The man said no and that he wanted her back." She paused and popped another berry into her mouth.

  "So what happened?" Austin asked fascinated by her unusual tale.

  "The Sun made a patch of succulent huckleberries rise up directly in front of the woman, but she paid them no heed. Later he put up blackberries, but she ignored them as well. He placed several other fruits along the way to tempt her, but still she walked.

  "But then she saw the strawberries. Beautiful, ripe, luscious strawberries. The first ever known. When she ate one, her desire for her husband returned. She gathered the berries and returned to give them to him. They met on the path, smiled at each other, and went home together."

  She smiled and offered him another berry. "Now you know the Origin of Strawberries."

  "A very interesting story," he said his eyes trained on her lips, moist and stained pink with strawberry dew. The memory of kissing her berry-sweet mouth washed over him and he immediately commanded himself to think of something else. Bloody hell, why was that so difficult?

  While they enjoyed the rest of the fruit, he wondered just what he was going to do to keep his hands off her for the remainder of the journey. His wife, however, solved that problem for him soon after finishing the last berry.

  "My goodness," she said stifling a yawn. "I'm so sleepy."

  Her eyelids drooped and he breathed an inward sigh of relief. He could easily resist temptation if she fell asleep. Pulling her against him, he nestled her head on his shoulder. "Come here, Miss Robust," he teased "before you slide to the floor and render yourself unconscious."

  "I suppose that would be rather undignified" she said in a sleepy voice, snuggling closer against him.

  "Behavior most unbecoming a duchess," he agreed but she didn't hear him. She was already asleep.

  Shifting gently so as not to awaken her, Austin stretched out and cradled her against him. With her lilac scent surrounding him, and her soft body pressed against him, all his senses leapt to life. Damn it, it appeared resisting temptation was not going to be as easy as he'd thought.

  While he was throbbing, she was sleeping. He was hard and heavy with need she was soft and languid with slumber. She sighed in her sleep and hugged him closer. A deep groan escaped him.

  Damn it all, this was going to be one hell of a long ride.

  Chapter 12

  Elizabeth came awake slowly. The first thing she noticed was that it was dark inside the coach. The next thing she noticed was that she was stretched out full length on the soft velvet squabs.

  Then she realized Austin was stretched out right next to her. And his arms were around her. And she was lying half on top of him and their legs were entangled. She tried to move, but his arms tightened pinning her where she was.

  "Where are you going?" he asked in a husky whisper near her ear, enticing a legion of chills to skid down her spine.

  "I must be crushing you."

  "Not at all. In fact, I'm very comfortable."

  Thus reassured she settled back, closed her eyes, and breathed in the wonderful smell of him. He smelled like… heaven. Like sandalwood and clean sunshine. Like Austin.

  She breathed deeply again and sighed. "When will we arrive in London?"

  "We'll be home in less than half an hour. In fact, as much as I'm enjoying lying here, we'd best sit up and repair ourselves before we arrive."

  She sat up and shrugged her arms back into her spencer. "Where is your London home?"

  "Our London home is on Park Lane, the same street as your aunt's Town residence. We're right n
ext to Hyde Park in a section of London called Mayfair. We're also very close to Bond Street, so you may shop all you wish."

  "Oh. Shopping. I cannot wait."

  Clearly her unenthusiastic response gave her away. "You don't care for the shops?" he asked, his surprise evident.

  "In truth, no. I view gadding about to dozens of shops, looking at items without a specific need to purchase them, as a total waste of time. However, if it is something that duchesses must do, I shall endeavor to force myself."

  "Surely there will be baubles and personal items you'll wish to buy. After all, you need to do something with your allowance."

  "Allowance?"

  "Yes. It's an English word meaning 'a regular, periodic sum of money' You'll receive a quarterly allowance that you may spend as you wish."

  "How much of an allowance?" she asked wondering what she would need to buy that he did not already own. He named a figure and her jaw dropped. "You're not serious." He couldn't possibly mean to give her that much money.

  Even in the dim light, she saw his expression harden. "What's wrong? Is it not enough?"

  She blinked at him, astounded. "Not enough! Good heavens, Austin. I assumed you were far from poverty stricken, but I had no idea you could afford to give me that much money every ten years, let alone every quarter."

  Reaching out, she touched his sleeve. "I appreciate the offer, but it's truly not necessary. I already have everything I need."

  Now it was Austin's turn to gape. She didn't know he could afford it? Had she really just stated it wasn't necessary for him to give her an allowance? She already had everything she needed? He thought of the many shallow, greedy, scheming, conniving women in the ton and tried to imagine even one of them saying the words Elizabeth had just said. He shook his head. Good God. Could this wife of his truly be real!

  He continued to stare at her, to study her eyes, and his answer was clear. Yes. Yes, this woman-his wife-was absolutely real. She was everything good kind and unselfish. He hadn't even been looking, but he'd somehow found a treasure. And I thought her reaction to the amount of the allowance was based on greed. He shook his head at his own folly.

  Her soft voice broke into his reverie. "I've upset you. I'm sorry."

  "I'm not upset, Elizabeth. I'm… amazed."

  "You are? Why?"

  He brought her hand to his lips. "Because you are amazing." Just as he kissed the center of her palm, the coach came to a stop, marking their arrival. "To be continued" he promised in a husky drawl that brought a blush to her cheeks.

  They alighted from the coach and he escorted her through the elaborate wrought-iron gate. Candles glowed from every window of the elegant brick town house, casting the house with warm, inviting, muted light. As they approached the huge double doors were thrown open in welcome.

  "Welcome home, your grace," the butler intoned escorting them into the marble-tiled vestibule.

  "Thank you, Carters. This is your new mistress, her grace, the Duchess of Bradford."

  The butler bowed deeply. "The staff extends our heartfelt felicitations on your nuptials, your grace," he said to Elizabeth, his dour face sober.

  "Thank you, Carters," she said with a smile.

  Austin saw her gaze move beyond Carters to the group of servants standing in a line, waiting to greet them. Unmistakable pride bubbled up in his chest when she stepped forward and smiled at the group. One by one Carters introduced the staff to Elizabeth, and one by one each servant was charmed by their new mistress who repeated their names and favored each of them with a friendly, dimpling grin. What his wife lacked in polished sophistication, she more than made up for with warmth and natural charm.

  "It's late, Carters. I suggest you and the staff retire," Austin instructed once the introductions were completed. "I'll escort the duchess to her rooms."

  "Of course, your grace." Carters bowed again. He and the others filed out, leaving Austin alone in the huge foyer with his bride.

  "Carters is rather intimidating," she whispered. "Does he ever smile?"

  "Never, at least not that I can recall."

  "Where on earth do you find such terribly serious people?"

  Unable to keep from touching her, he tweaked one of her auburn curls. "Carters' family has been in service to the Duke of Bradford for three generations. He was born serious."

  Tucking her hand beneath his arm, he led her up the curving staircase. Her head bobbed from left to right, taking in her new home.

  "Goodness. This is fabulous. As is Bradford Hall. Are all your homes this magnificent? Don't you own anything, well… smaller?"

  He thought for a moment. "There's a modest cottage in Bath."

  "How modest?"

  "About twenty rooms, give or take a few."

  She laughed. "Twenty rooms is hardly modest."

  "I fear it's the best I can do. If you'd like, you can buy a hut or hovel with your allowance." He shot her a teasing wink. "Something with only ten rooms." Pausing, he opened a door. "Here we are."

  She stepped over the threshold and gasped. The bedchamber was decorated entirely in ivory and gold from the cream velvet drapes to the sumptuous Persian carpet beneath their feet. Several low, burning lamps bathed the entire room with a soft glow, and a cozy fire danced in the marble hearth.

  "What a beautiful room," she said clearly delighted. She ran her fingers lightly over the gold brocade settee and matching wing chairs. Throwing her arms out, she twirled around several times, her skirts billowing behind her. "What's in there?" she asked pointing to a door on the far wall.

  "A bathing chamber that adjoins my suite. It's part of the recently completed renovations I've done and is quite innovative. Your maid is drawing you a bath now. I'll await you in my suite." He touched her cheek, then left, closing the door behind him.

  Elizabeth opened the door to the bathing room and was greeted by a shy young girl.

  "Good evening, your grace. My name is Katie. I'm your abigail."

  Thank goodness there wasn't anyone else in the room, or Elizabeth would have craned her neck around looking about for "your grace," as she'd nearly done in the foyer when Carters had greeted her. The title was certainly going to take some getting used to.

  Katie helped her undress and assisted her into the tub, which to Elizabeth's amazement was not only sunken into the floor, but easily large enough for two, possibly three people. Warm, lilac-scented water washed over her, and a blissful sigh escaped her. When she emerged fifteen minutes later, her skin tingled with pleasure.

  "I've laid out your lovely peignoir, your grace," Katie said.

  "Oh, thank you. It's a gift from my aunt. I cannot wait to see it."

  " 'Tis unbelievably beautiful."

  Elizabeth decided that unbelievable was certainly an apt word. Oh, the garment was beautiful enough, a diaphanous creation in the palest shade of blue, but it clung to her every curve in a way that could only be described as indecent.

  "Gracious! What on earth was Aunt Joanna thinking?" she exclaimed dismayed by the expanse of flesh the deeply plunging neckline left bare. The material barely covered her nipples. The back of the gown was no better, the scoop there was so low her entire back was bare to her hips. "I cannot possibly wear this."

  "You look stunning, your grace," Katie assured her.

  "Perhaps the robe will help," Elizabeth muttered. But it didn't help at all. The matching robe was nothing more than long sleeves with a back made of yards of material that hung to the floor. It was edged with cream-colored lace that only served to accentuate rather than hide her exposed flesh.

  "I've never seen a robe like this," Elizabeth gasped trying in vain to pull the two sides together in order to cover herself. It was hopeless. "What on earth am I going to do? And more important, what will my husband say?"

  "Somehow, I believe his grace will be pleased" Katie said.

  His grace was indeed pleased when he opened the door to his suite in answer to a quiet knock. In fact, he felt as if his breath had been knocke
d from his body.

  Before him stood a vision in ice blue silk. An auburn-haired vision whose creamy skin glowed beneath a tantalizing gown that left her just barely covered. His gaze strolled down from her flushed face, taking in the daring décolletage of her gown and the provocative way it clung to all her curves. His groin instantly tightened.

  "You look exquisite," he said softly, bringing her hand to his lips.

  She cleared her throat. "I feel rather… bare. I cannot fathom what my aunt was thinking when she gave me such an ensemble."

  Austin forced himself not to laugh and led her into his spacious bedchamber. He knew exactly what Lady Penbroke had been thinking and he sent her a mental note of thanks.

  "Exquisite," he assured her again.

  "Then the duke is pleased?"

  "The duke is very pleased."

  "Then I suppose I'm doing my job as duchess."

  "See there? I told you it was simple." He indicated a small, beautifully set table near the fireplace. "Are you hungry?"

  "No."

  "Thirsty?"

  "No."

  "Nervous?"

  "N-" A rueful smile curved her lips. "Yes. But I was trying so hard not to show it."

  "I'm afraid those expressive eyes of yours give you away-as well as the crimson blush staining your cheeks and the fact your fingers are twisted into knots."

  Her gaze dropped to her hands and she disentangled her fingers.

  "Do you know what is going to happen between us, Elizabeth?" he asked running a single fingertip down her soft cheek.

  Her gaze lifted back up to meet his. "Oh, yes," she said surprising him with her matter-of-fact tone. "I'm well acquainted with the studies of animal husbandry and human anatomy."

  "I… see." Stepping closer to her, he gently laid his hands on her shoulders. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I'm nervous, too."

  Her eyes widened. "Do you mean to say you've never done this either?"

  He choked back his laughter. "No, that is not what I meant."

  "My apprehension springs from a fear of experiencing the unknown. As that is not the case for you, then why are you nervous?"