Pride and Fire

by JoMarie DeGioia

  * * * *

  The next few days passed with speed, filled with last minute preparations. The wedding day dawned clear and bright. As was Lady Helen’s very recent custom, she threw open the door to Michelle’s room.

  “Up, dear!” she called.

  Michelle groaned as she struggled to a sitting position. “Mother, I wish you’d cease this infernal morning ritual of yours.”

  “No need to scold me so, dear.” She opened the draperies. “Starting tomorrow, it will be your husband’s duty to wake you in the morning.”

  Michelle blinked at the sunlight streaming through her window as her mother’s words settled on her. “Oh! Paul and I are getting married today!”

  “Yes, dear.”

  As her mother kept up a steady stream of chatter, Michelle rose and attended to her morning toilette. She was washing her face when her mother spoke from the other side of the privacy screen.

  “Dear, I ordered a bath for you,” she advised. “And I have some very special soaps, as well.”

  “Special soaps, Mother?” Michelle wiped the towel over her face and peered from behind the screen. “What are you about?”

  “Tonight is your wedding night, dear,” Lady Helen said. “I thought you’d wish to feel your best.”

  Michelle slowly nodded, unsure of the direction this conversation would take.

  Her mother took Michelle’s hands and led her back to the bed. “Do you have any questions about what will happen tonight?”

  “Happen?” Michelle asked with trepidation.

  “Yes, dear,” her mother answered. “What will happen between you and your husband. On your wedding night.”

  Michelle blushed hotly at what her mother was intimating. “I can’t talk to you about this, Mother!”

  Lady Helen patted her hand. “It’s all right to be nervous, Michelle. Trust your husband to guide you.”

  Michelle dropped her gaze. “I trust Paul. Very much.”

  “Michelle, has Lord Leed ever…?” Her mother was suddenly agitated. “That is to say…”

  “No! We have never been… intimate.”

  Her mother’s brow smoothed and she fanned her face. She proceeded to inform Michelle of what to expect. Michelle’s mouth fell open in shock. Paul was a large man. She remembered the hard bulge in his breeches that first night in his carriage. Why, he’d rip her in half!

  “But, how can that be, Mother?” She pressed her hands to her heated cheeks. “I cannot imagine such a thing.”

  Her mother simply smiled. “All will be well, dear.”

  “I hope so.”

  * * * *

  Later that morning, Paul changed into his formal attire. He tried repeatedly to tie his cravat, but the task proved impossible for him. He went downstairs and implored Starks to finish the task.

  “But, My Lord,” the man started. “Your valet—”

  “My valet,” Paul cut in, “is busy moving my furniture about to make room for my wife’s arrival, Starks. Just tie the bloody thing!”

  Starks deftly tied the neck cloth. He stepped back and nodded his approval over his master’s appearance. He glanced down at Paul’s boots, clicking his tongue. “I can take your boots and give them another shine, My Lord.”

  “My boots are fine,” Paul snapped. “I’m sorry, Starks. I believe I’m nervous this morning.”

  “It’s to be expected,” Starks said. “This is your wedding day, My Lord.”

  Paul started to laugh at the man’s jest but checked himself. The butler stood ramrod stiff, ever the proper servant. “Yes, well.” Paul nodded, hiding his grin. “That will be all.”

  “Very good, My Lord.” The man bowed, taking his leave.

  After going to the kitchens to make sure everything was ready for the late supper he’d planned, he set out for the Thomas townhouse.

  He waited in the parlor. The guests would arrive shortly after the ceremony, Lady Helen had advised him, and the reception would take place in the main salon. His father and sisters stood nearby, the twins nearly bursting with excitement. His nervousness increasing tenfold, he began to pace about the room as Lord and Lady Kanewood looked on.

  “Leed, do calm down,” Geoffrey teased. “It’s only your wedding day.”

  Paul turned to glare at his friend.

  Geoffrey opened his mouth again, but Becca’s hand on his arm stilled him. He cleared his throat. “I wonder when Michelle will be ready for my escort?”

  Paul shrugged and looked at the minister. Reverend Grey would perform the ceremony, much to Lady Helen’s obvious delight. She’d informed Paul of how pleased she was that he could officiate on such short notice. The elderly man smiled a sweet smile of patience, agitating Paul all the more. Of course he’s calm and patient. He wasn’t the one getting married.

  At long last a servant came into the parlor and asked for Geoffrey. Geoffrey grinned and slapped Paul on the back as he strode by and Paul managed a small smile.

  Just when Paul thought he’d perish if the damn ceremony didn’t get underway, Geoffrey appeared in the doorway with Michelle on his arm. She took Paul’s breath away. Her gown of ivory, shimmery-smooth and draped in lace, made her look like a goddess. Her glorious hair was pinned up on her head in a shining mass of curls, tendrils allowed to escape to frame her face and trail down to bare shoulders he longed to kiss. She wore pearls, which picked up the glow of her skin. Lord, she was magnificent.

  Geoffrey led her over to where Paul stood and placed their hands together. She trembled as she looked up at him and Paul felt it, that spark between their joined hands, and took it as a positive sign. If he’d harbored any doubts, he did no longer. He gave her a wink, and turned her to face the reverend.

  The ceremony was over as quickly as it began, or so it seemed, thank God. Paul sucked in a breath, relieved that at last Michelle was his. He swept her into his arms and kissed her tenderly, sealing their union.

  Lord and Lady Kanewood were the first to offer their congratulations as Lady Helen cried loud, happy tears. Paul’s sisters squealed happily as his father patted him soundly on the back. Michelle shot him that coy look he’d seen on the balcony with Roberts, but there was heat there she’d never show another man if he had anything to say about it.

  They all soon retired to the salon to begin the reception. The newlyweds had a wonderful time, dancing closely as their guests looked on. Paul’s father danced with Michelle as the groom twirled about the floor with first Catherine and then Elizabeth. Paul mentally ticked off the hours before he could make her completely his.

  “Ah, you’re back at my side.” He kissed Michelle’s hand and placed it in the crook of his arm. “Where you belong.”

  Michelle opened her mouth to say something in return, something teasing and outrageous he was certain, when she stiffened.

  “Do introduce me to your husband, dear cousin,” a young man said as he stepped in front of them.

  “This is my cousin, Paul.” Her luscious lips curled with a distaste he’d never glimpsed before. “Reginald Thomas.”

  Paul ran his gaze over Reginald Thomas. He had hair nearly the red of Michelle’s, curled effeminately about his head. The slight man was dressed outlandishly, appearing the fop. Paul dismissed the man as a dandy the very moment he laid eyes on him, knowing his dim memories of the man hadn’t been far from the truth. There was obviously no love lost between his bride and the fop, though.

  “Thomas.”

  “Congratulations, Lord Leed.” Reggie took Michelle’s free hand in his. “You have plucked England’s fairest flower.”

  Paul heard Michelle give a tiny snort. “Michelle, what…?”

  “Paul, my boy!” His father pounded him on the back again. “I cannot tell you how pleased I am.”

  Paul turned away from Michelle and her cousin to speak with his father.

  * * * *

  “Lovely affair, cousin,” Reggie said to Michelle.

  Michelle pulled her hand from Reggie’s. “Thank you for coming,�
� she said flatly.

  Reggie leered, his eyes roaming over her, and her skin began its customary crawl when in his presence.

  “Are you ready for your wedding night, my dear?” He leaned closer and dropped his voice. “Perhaps you should have let me instruct you in the art of love. It would have been my pleasure.”

  Michelle could only gasp in answer, at which the man chuckled.

  “Do enjoy tonight, my dear.” Again his eyes raked over her. “Leed no doubt will.”

  Reggie left her and she clutched Paul’s arm tightly, drawing his attention from his father.

  He looked down at her and smiled, bending his head to hers. “Not still nervous are you, wife?” he asked softly.

  Looking into his eyes, she forgot all about her disgusting cousin and his lewd comments. “Not at all, husband.” She returned Paul’s smile. “Perhaps anticipation is what you see.”

  When his beautiful blue eyes darkened, she knew they shared that thrill of anticipation.

  A while later, Paul helped Michelle into his waiting carriage. “Let us leave our guests to enjoy the celebration in our absence, love.”

  She agreed wholeheartedly, eager to get to Paul’s townhouse and spend their first night together as husband and wife.

  Inside the carriage, Michelle cuddled up against her new husband.

  “Ah, Michelle,” Paul breathed, rubbing his hand over her back. “We’ll be so happy. I promise you that.”

  She pulled back and looked up at him. “I am happy, Paul.” She smiled. “Aren’t you?”

  He grinned in answer and kissed her soundly.

  When they arrived at his townhouse he alighted the carriage and held his hand out to her. She placed her hand in his and let him help her down. Suddenly he grabbed her in his arms and swept her up the steps to the front door.

  “Paul!”

  He pushed open the door and carried her over the threshold, letting loose a booming laugh that echoed in the entryway. As he placed her on her feet, she noticed a young butler standing in the foyer, surprise on his face.

  “M-my Lord…?” the servant stammered.

  “Hello, Starks!” Paul beamed. “This is the new Lady Leed.”

  The butler’s face soon wore a placid expression as he bowed low to Michelle. “Good evening, My Lady,” he said in his most formal tone of voice.

  “I’m pleased to meet you, Starks,” she replied.

  “I’ve seen to your personal effects, My Lady,” he informed her. “As well as seen your maid settled.”

  “Thank you, Starks,” she said with a nod. “I appreciate your attention.”

  His chest puffed with obvious pride, he turned on his heel and left them there.

  “Very proper, isn’t he?” she asked Paul.

  “Very,” Paul said.

  Michelle glanced about the townhouse then. It was pleasant and, though sparsely decorated, the furnishings were of a fine quality. She narrowed her eyes. Perhaps with some new curtains, and some decorations from her mother’s home…

  “What are you thinking, love?” Paul asked.

  “Oh, just that my husband’s home is in dire need of a woman’s touch.”

  Paul smiled crookedly. “Why do you think I married you?”

  She swatted at him. He grabbed her hand and pulled her through the house, giving her a quick tour. “This is the parlor, which could no doubt use more of your woman’s touch. The kitchen is in the back belowstairs.”

  “Paul.” She panted as she tried to match his long strides. “Paul, what is the hurry?”

  He stopped just outside the dining room, giving her a moment to catch her breath as his eyes twinkled. He then threw open the door with a flourish. She looked inside and sharply drew in a breath, dazzled by the scene within.

  The table was set beautifully, the crystal sparkling in the candlelight. The china and silver rested on fine white cloth. A vase of flowers finished the table-setting, filled with blood red roses. His thoughtfulness astounded her.

  “Paul, however did you—?”

  “Welcome home, darling,” he said softly.

  She blinked. Paul took her to her chair, bowing gallantly. They shared their wedding supper of pheasant accompanied by braised vegetables, though she barely tasted the food. She couldn’t stop staring into Paul’s gorgeous blue eyes.

  They’d barely started dessert, a rich and fragrant pudding, when Paul stood and grasped her hand. Michelle looked up at him in question.

  “Come, wife,” he said, his voice low.

  Her heart pounding, Michelle slowly stood and followed him away from the table. Surely what was to come was better than any dessert his gifted staff could prepare.

  Chapter 11

  Paul waited for what seemed like forever for her to come out of the dressing room, all sorts of delicious images in his mind as he pictured her undressing. Easing that gorgeous gown downward to reveal her flawless ivory skin. Letting loose her fiery hair to float about her. It had taken him seconds to disrobe, though he’d kept his breeches on in deference to his wife’s innocence. He was grateful for that brief clarity of thought. When she finally emerged her gaze wandered over him, making him harder than the bedpost at his back. That thin nightgown! Her nipples pressed against the lawn, her hips outlined with every small step she took toward him. And now, he could almost feel the heat of her on his own skin across the space that separated them.

  She slowly brought her gaze up to his face. “You’re beautiful.”

  He chuckled. She blushed as if realizing she’d spoken her thought out loud.

  Paul crossed over to her and took her hand in his. “You’re the beauty, wife.”

  He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her gently. He thought to take his time with her, to ease her shyness before rousing her passion. When she kissed him back with an urgency that unnerved him, he was tempted to forget his noble plan.

  “My God, Michelle,” he murmured. “You set me on fire.”

  She only nodded.

  He forced himself to take his time unfastening the tiny buttons on the front of her gown, but couldn’t resist letting his fingers trail over the soft heated skin he revealed. He thought back to that night in the parlor at her mother’s home, of how close he’d come to taking her.

  “I fear I won’t be able to stop tonight, love.” He cupped her bare breasts in his hands. “Not tonight.”

  “Don’t,” she whispered.

  He froze. His hands shook as he pulled them away. “If you’re frightened, I’ll do as you ask.” The thought caused him to swallow a groan.

  She grasped his hands and placed them on her once more. “Don’t stop, Paul.”

  He swore softly. “As my wife requests.”

  His hands roamed over her, tracing every curve. She gasped as he palmed her nipples and he felt her response to his core. Pushing the nightgown off of her shoulders, he studied her in the candlelight. She threw her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him.

  He breathed in sharply. “So much for going slow.” He crushed his mouth to hers.

  He placed his hands under her bottom and lifted her. He walked to the bed and laid her gently on it, coming to rest beside her. Leaning up on one elbow, he slowly trailed a finger from her cheek down to the swell of her breast. He brushed his fingers over her nipple, causing her to shudder.

  “I can’t believe you’re mine,” he whispered.

  He bent his head and closed his mouth over her breast, gently teething the nipple.

  Michelle closed her eyes and let out a ragged sigh. “Paul…”

  As his mouth kept up its sweet torture, his hand slid between her legs. He gently stroked her, making her hotter, wetter. She arched toward him and he groaned at her uninhibited response.

  “Ah, Michelle,” he said. “I want you so much.”

  “Take me.”

  Paul stood then and peeled off his breeches. He stretched out along the length of her, settling himself between her thighs. His arousal touched the heat of he
r and he prayed for control. Slowly he entered her, his eyes closed tight. He shook with the need to bury himself in her softness. The barrier of her virginity stopped him and Michelle’s eyes fluttered open.

  “Paul, what…?”

  “Easy, darling,” he said gently. “Easy…”

  With one deep thrust, he entered her fully.

  Michelle cried out. “Stop, Paul! Please stop. It hurts.”

  He soothed her as he held her tightly against him. “Shh, love,” he whispered. “The pain will cease in a moment.”

  She wriggled beneath him, as if trying to get away from the pain, and his member swelled in response.

  “No, Michelle,” he ground out. “Don’t move that way. I can’t—”

  He shuddered as he felt her heat caress him. Every inch of him felt her silken flesh, felt each drop of moisture deep inside her. He closed his eyes and sank deeper, catching her sighs in his mouth.

  Her gasps of pain eased as her pleasure began to build. “Oh, yes…” she moaned.

  His control began to slip. He drove into her, harder and faster, and felt her tighten around him. She was so close to her release, and he prayed he could hold back his own until she found it. Her nails raked his back and she cried out. He let go of his control then, seeking his own fulfillment as she rose beneath him. Shouting her name, he climaxed.

  He rained kisses on her face, waiting for his heart to stop its pounding. He’d never felt such passion before. She took away all of his control with her whispers and caresses, with her innocent sensuality that was his alone now. It was incredible.

  “Ah, wife,” he said at last, looking down at her.

  Michelle opened her eyes then, staring up at him in surprise. “Paul,” she whispered, “I never knew.”

  He smiled crookedly at her. “I should hope not, love.”

  She nodded and closed her eyes once more. Her color was high, her skin flushed, and he knew he was the luckiest of men.

  He rolled off her and gathered her in his arms as she sighed and cuddled against his chest. He stroked her back, marveling at her soft skin. Suddenly she picked her head up to look at him.