The Inheritance

by Joan Johnston

  “What? No.” Nicholas forced himself to smile. “I’ll be glad to have the ceremony over with, but I’m more than willing to marry the duchess.”

  Nicholas was pleased to see that Daisy had invited only the Rotherhams. Lady Roanna was there. He watched with narrowed eyes as Colin ignored her, seating himself on the opposite aisle at the front of the simple country church to wait for his father to join him so the ceremony could begin.

  Daisy was already at the front of the church with Lady Rotherham beside her. Nicholas left Charles to join his wife before the altar.

  “You’re trembling, Daisy,” Priss whispered to her friend. “Are you frightened?”

  “Just excited,” Daisy whispered back. “I’m so glad you’re here, Priss.”

  “Me, too,” Priss said. “Be happy, Daisy. Oh, please, just be happy.”

  There was nothing Daisy could say to that. Her happiness was not of primary importance at the moment. The future of Severn Manor and all who depended upon it rested on her shoulders. She was entering a marriage of convenience in order to help a great many people. She was willing to put her own needs aside long enough to ensure the survival of Severn.

  Daisy tried to listen to the reverend, but his words jumbled up in her brain. How could she go through with this? She was like a martyr willing to be burned at the stake who had serious second thoughts when someone arrived with torches to light the fire. What steadied her nerves was the painfully honest admission that her motives in marrying Nicholas weren’t wholly unselfish.

  She wanted the duke to make love to her, and she had every expectation of enjoying herself in bed with him. That made her sacrifice for the tenants of Severn considerably less than noble. But the fact she was going to benefit didn’t make the marriage any less necessary.

  Daisy heard herself speaking, but had no idea what she said. She felt something cold slide onto her finger and saw Nicholas had put a simple gold band there. She realized with dismay that she had no ring for him. She looked at him in a daze, as if he were a stranger.

  He was a stranger. She had known him barely a week.

  But she knew more about him, about Nicholas the man, than she had learned about Tony in eight years of marriage. And she wanted him physically in a way she had never imagined wanting a man. And though she was anxious about the night to come, she wasn’t as terrified as she had expected to be.

  Daisy felt a light kiss on her lips, and it was as if the prince had woken Sleeping Beauty. She blinked and realized the ceremony was over. She was the Duchess of Severn, Nicholas’s wife.

  She turned and received Priss’s hug and then received a gentle kiss on the cheek from Colin.

  “Shall I call you Ma now?” Colin whispered in her ear.

  “Daisy will do. Or Your Grace if you can’t remember that,” Daisy said, returning his teasing grin.

  “You win,” he said. “Daisy it is.”

  Sometime during all the felicitations Daisy became aware that Nicholas had slipped his arm around her waist. He was leading her inexorably toward the church door.

  “Leaving so soon?” The Earl of Rotherham intercepted them and gave Daisy a quick buss on the cheek. He shook Nicholas’s hand. “Congratulations. I wish you both every happiness.”

  “Thank you, Charles. Daisy doesn’t know it, but I’ve planned a short honeymoon for us. We won’t be staying for the wedding breakfast, but I hope you’ll go back to the house and enjoy it.”

  “What?” Daisy said. “You’ve done what, Nicholas?”

  “I’m kidnapping you,” he said with a roguish grin. “We’re going on a honeymoon, my dear.”

  “But—”

  He swept her up in his arms. “For the next two weeks you’re mine. I don’t want anything interrupting our time together.”

  “But you can’t just—”

  “I can and I have,” Nicholas said as he settled her in the carriage.

  “Where are we going?” Daisy asked. “I haven’t packed. I—”

  “Jane packed for you.”

  “Jane knew about this?”

  Nicholas grinned. “She did. She and Porter will be joining us in London a few days from now. I’ll be your maid until then,” he said with a gleam in his eye.

  “Who else knows?” she asked, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

  “Most of the household. I had to tell them we would be gone so they could take care of things while we’re away.”

  “This must be the first time in history that servants ever kept a secret,” Daisy said.

  “I wanted to surprise you.”

  Daisy caught his glance and realized that while he wouldn’t have taken no for an answer if she had refused, he nevertheless wanted her to be happy with what he had planned.

  And she was, Daisy realized.

  Two whole weeks alone, with no thought of Severn. Two weeks alone to discover whether they were compatible. Two weeks alone to investigate the delights of each other’s body. It would be wonderful.

  Daisy’s smile started at the corners of her mouth and ended with a sparkle in her green eyes. “I think it’s a wonderful idea, Nicholas. Thank you.”

  Nicholas tapped the ceiling of the carriage, and it began to move. Before they were even out of sight of the church, he dragged her into his lap and kissed her. Her barbarian wasn’t tender. He wasn’t gentle. She felt his hunger as one hand claimed her breast and the other captured a handful of copper curls. He arched her head back to give him better access to her mouth.

  “Mine,” he murmured harshly. “You’re finally mine.”

  Yes, yours, Daisy thought.

  The little warning voice inside her head replied, But for how long?

  13

  The duke’s kisses consumed Daisy. She gloried in his touch, in the taste of him. She refused to think about the future. They had two weeks alone. She was determined to enjoy every moment of it. Her hand crept into his hair, and her mouth invited him to deepen his kiss. His mouth ravaged hers, and she surrendered to his invasion.

  It was Nicholas who finally brought things to a halt.

  “We have to stop this,” he said, his breathing labored.

  Daisy reached mindlessly for his mouth, slipping her tongue between his lips.

  Nicholas was so surprised by Daisy’s kiss that he let the passion drag him back under. He had his hand on her naked breast, lifting it so he could suckle her, when he realized what he was doing. He didn’t want to bed her for the first time in a moving carriage. There wasn’t space to do everything he wanted to do. He lifted his head and looked into her face and realized she was going to be upset when he stopped. But stop they must.

  “Daisy,” he murmured against her ear.

  She arched against him, and he groaned as his body tightened with need.

  “Please, sweetheart, we have to stop.”

  “Nicholas?” She was dazed, her eyes heavy-lidded, her lashes creating coal crescents on her cheeks. Her mouth was swollen pink and damp from his kisses.

  He resisted the urge to suck on her lower lip. Instead he began to tug her clothes back into some semblance of order. “This isn’t the way I want us to make love the first time.”

  “Oh.”

  As Daisy regained her senses, embarrassment set in. Nicholas did his best to ease things for her, as he quietly and calmly—as calmly as a man with aching loins could—settled her back onto the seat across from him. His hands were shaking, and he stuck them in his pockets to keep from reaching for her again. He shifted, trying to get more comfortable, and realized he wasn’t going to be content until he had eased himself inside her. Fortunately, they would be stopping soon.

  “Fix your hair.” Nicholas cursed himself for his abruptness. It was just that the sight of all those copper curls made his hands itch.

  She didn’t say anything, just sniffed and did her best, with the few pins she could find on the seats and the few he found for her on the floor of the carriage, to bring her hair under control.

  When Daisy was fin
ished, she checked herself one last time and sat back primly in the seat. “How do I look?” she asked.

  Nicholas took the time to admire her naked throat and shoulders and the swell of bosom that rose from her dress. She looked a little disheveled. Her skin was flushed, and her eyes sparkled. She looked like some man had made passionate love to her. “You look exactly like a bride ought to look,” he said as an unholy grin split his face.

  “What’s so funny?” Daisy asked in a sharp voice. She checked her clothing and hair again, but could find nothing amiss.

  Nicholas wiped the smirk off his face. “Nothing’s funny.” Except Daisy probably wouldn’t be sitting there looking so calm and dignified if she had any idea there was a perfectly visible love bruise at the base of her throat. He had no idea when he had put it there, and his only regret was that, knowing Daisy, she would likely wear high-necked dresses for the next week or so until it disappeared.

  “Will you tell me now where we’re going?” Daisy asked.

  “London.”

  “London!” Daisy exclaimed.

  “Not today. We’ll be stopping shortly in Camberly. Tomorrow morning—not too early, I hope—we’ll travel on.” Nicholas enjoyed watching the flush rise on Daisy’s cheeks. He had every reason to hope they would consume the better part of the night making love and would both sleep well past dawn.

  “We’ll be spending the rest of our honeymoon at Severn House on Grosvenor Square,” Nicholas finished.

  “That house has been closed for the past year,” Daisy protested.

  “I had it opened and cleaned and staffed with servants. We’ll be very comfortable, I assure you.”

  “Why London?” she asked.

  “Because I haven’t been there before. Because it’s the center of the English world, and by all accounts a fascinating place. Because we’ll have more privacy there.” Nicholas didn’t add the final reason he had decided to go to London.

  Because Lord Estleman is reputed to be living there.

  In the day between sending for the special license and the day of his wedding he had not had an opportunity to speak again with his aunt. Absent any new information from her, he believed a meeting with Lord Estleman was imperative.

  The carriage stopped, and Nicholas realized they had arrived at the inn where they would spend the night.

  Daisy looked out the window and saw a charming brick two-story cottage with a thatched roof. A hanging wooden sign proclaimed it as The Wolf and the Lamb. The name seemed particularly apt in light of her circumstances.

  Nicholas descended the carriage first and realized suddenly that he didn’t want anyone else seeing the signs of his lovemaking. So, as Daisy stepped down from the carriage, he picked her up in his arms and tucked her head under his chin so the bruise would be hidden from sight.

  “Nicholas, this really isn’t necessary,” Daisy said, squirming in his arms.

  “Trust me, Daisy. It’s necessary.”

  Daisy remembered his unholy grin and realized that something in her appearance must be amiss. Rather than argue with him in the courtyard and draw attention, she reached up and put her arms around his neck, hiding her face against his throat for good measure.

  “My wife isn’t feeling well. Perhaps you can direct me to our room,” he said in a voice that was every bit as arrogant as any duke of the realm.

  “Yes, Your Grace,” the proprietor said, bowing obsequiously and racing to keep ahead of Nicholas, who was already headed for the stairs.

  “Here’s your room, Your Grace. The best in the house.”

  “Send up some water for my wife to wash. We’ll have our dinner in the private parlor later. Everything has been arranged?”

  Nicholas raised a regal black brow that the proprietor acknowledged with another bow. “Yes, Your Grace. Everything will be ready at your convenience.”

  “Close the door on your way out,” Nicholas said.

  The proprietor bowed again and left them alone.

  “You can put me down now,” Daisy said.

  Nicholas eyed the bed. That was where he wanted to put her, but he knew there would be servants coming soon with water for Daisy to refresh herself. When he made love to her, he didn’t want to be interrupted. Slowly he eased her down the front of him, enjoying the trembling shiver that shimmered through her.

  The eyes that met his weren’t the least bit droopy or sensuous. They were downright suspicious.

  “All right,” she said. “What’s wrong with my appearance?”

  Nicholas grinned. He couldn’t help it. He gestured toward an oval mirror standing in the corner. “Take a look for yourself.”

  Daisy stalked over to the mirror. In the dusky light from the leaded window she didn’t see anything at first. Then she spied it. She took a step closer and leaned in toward the mirror. Her fingertips examined the small bruise on her throat.

  “Oh.” She turned to face him. At first her lips flattened. Then her eyes crinkled with humor.

  Nicholas was surprised and confused by her response. “You aren’t angry?” he asked in a wary voice.

  “Not if you aren’t.”

  “I don’t understand what you mean.”

  She stood back and gestured toward the mirror.

  Nicholas marched over and looked at himself. There, just beneath his right ear, was a small purple bruise. His cravat was askew, and his hair was standing on end.

  “Oh.” His ears turned pink.

  Daisy laughed. When Nicholas turned to her with a frown on his face, she covered her mouth to try to stop her giggles. But they kept coming. And got worse. “Oh, if you could only have seen yourself,” she said, hugging her ribs and bending over with laughter. “My wife isn’t feeling well,” she mimicked. “And all the time … all the time … he must have known what was wrong with both of us.”

  Nicholas’s mouth twitched, then turned up in a smile. Finally he laughed, a deep guffaw that came up from his belly. “Good Lord! I wonder how many other dukes have arrived here looking like they’ve come from an orgy?”

  “I’ll never be able to show my face in this place again,” Daisy said.

  “Maybe we won’t sleep late tomorrow, after all,” Nicholas said. “Maybe it would be better if we sneak out at dawn.”

  Daisy laughed until tears spilled from her eyes. “Oh, Nicholas, I don’t know when I’ve laughed so hard. It’s been so long. It feels so good.”

  Nicholas could no more have stopped himself from taking Daisy in his arms than he could have stopped the rain from falling in England. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to seek her mouth with his. To feel the smile on her lips, to take the joy that bubbled out of her and merge it with his kiss. He reached over without looking and turned the key in the door.

  “To hell with water for washing. To hell with dinner. To hell with everything. Except this.”

  His mouth found hers again, and he took what he wanted, what he needed from her. “Daisy, Daisy,” he said in a raw voice. “I need you. Now.”

  A knock on the door interrupted him.

  He tore his mouth from hers, knowing they wouldn’t be left alone until he answered. “Go away,” he said in his best ducal voice.

  “But, Your Grace—”

  “Leave us alone!” Nicholas waited until the footsteps in the hall had receded before he returned his gaze to Daisy. Her hands were around his neck, and her body was pressed close to his. Even through the layers of cloth, he knew she must feel his arousal.

  “Well, Daisy, we’re alone at last.”

  The fear came and went so quickly in her eyes that he wondered again whether he had really seen it. But she did nothing to stop him as he lowered his mouth to hers and took the sustenance she offered him.

  Daisy had already lived through one wedding night. But it had been nothing at all like this. She had experienced more intimacy with Nicholas in the carriage than she had with Tony in all her years of marriage. And she was totally unprepared for the fever Nicholas kindled in he
r blood.

  Tony had kissed her, but only as a perfunctory prelude to the main act. She wondered whether it would be the same with Nicholas, whether having kissed her with such abandon in the carriage he would behave the same way once they were in bed. Her anxiety made her nervous, and her nervousness made her stiffen.

  Nicholas immediately noticed the difference. The pliant woman, receptive to his kisses, had disappeared. In her place he held a rigid, unyielding board.

  He let her go and stepped away from her. She immediately lowered her eyes to keep him from looking into them. But he wasn’t about to let Daisy hide from him. He took her chin in his hand and forced her head up.

  “Look at me, Daisy.” His fingers tightened. “Look at me.”

  She lifted her lids, and he saw the fear.

  He should have known she would be afraid. She had called him all sorts of names, labeled him a beast. And a beast was certain to be a savage in bed. It made him furious to think she believed he would harm a hair on her head. “What are you afraid of?” he asked in a low, menacing voice.

  Daisy swallowed hard. It was more in the nature of a gulp. “It’s been a long time.”

  “Tony’s only been dead a year.”

  “It’s been much longer since … since he came to my bed,” Daisy confessed.

  “How long?” Nicholas demanded.

  “Six years.”

  Nicholas’s hand circled her throat, where he felt her pulse pounding crazily. “Are you telling me Tony didn’t touch you for six of the eight years you were married to him?”

  Daisy chose to respond with anger rather than embarrassment. She grasped the wrist of the hand that held her. Her eyes flashed with annoyance that she was being forced to reveal things to her new husband that were not his business. “Once he knew I couldn’t give him an heir, he wanted nothing further to do with me.”

  His thumb brushed her cheek. Gently. Very gently. “He was a fool.”

  Daisy stared at Nicholas, her heart in her eyes. That wasn’t the response she had expected from him. Nor did she expect the bare brush of his finger to send a frisson of sensation streaking to her belly.

  “I suppose he had a mistress or two,” Nicholas mused. “Although why he would want another woman, when he had you, I can’t imagine.” His hand smoothed down her throat and over a shoulder bared by her wedding gown.