by Dayna Quince
Chance stiffened.
“You're absolutely right. This hasty wedding is because I'm dying, old friend. I would consider myself blessed if the other were also true, but as you say, my son has an exemplary reputation as an absolute gentleman,” the duke said sternly.
The archbishop looked miffed but then shrugged as if he decided not to bother with it and relaxed in his chair. “Well, I'm glad I could come to visit, though I cannot stay longer than today.”
“Let us eat, drink, and be merry. My son is wed, and I have a lovely new daughter. I will die a happy man.”
Chapter 12
Obedience retired shortly after their celebratory luncheon. Reaching her room, she sighed in relief and kicked off her slippers before plopping down onto the window seat. The window was open, the breeze warm but past the midday heat. She felt as if she were a coward. It was obvious she was running away, but she didn't know what else to do. She felt lost and nothing like she should feel on the day of her wedding, which also made her feel guilty. She pulled her legs up against her chest and rested her chin on her knees. She prayed the duke lived far longer than anyone thought he would, saving her from the next terrifying mantle of becoming a duchess. She cringed. She was the worst, most ungrateful bride in the history of brides. She should be rosy with joy, blushingly anticipating her wedding night.
Oh, God. Her wedding night.
This time she did blush. It was the one thing she was looking forward to, although she was nervous. Everything she had experienced thus far had been more wonderful than she could ever have imagined. Suddenly, she was assaulted with questions. Would he come to her or should she go to him? Was she moving to his room tonight, or he to hers? She should have asked at some point, but then again, her mind had been preoccupied with the wedding. She was married to Chance. It was surreal, and many other things both uncomfortable and wonderful. She didn't know what to expect being married to such a charming and sophisticated gentleman. She wished she had paid more attention to her mother’s ramblings about polite society and the duties of a hostess, but until this past week, she hadn't given marriage much thought and now... She was married.
Thinking of her mother brought back the darker feelings. It was a small loss, but it still felt like a loss. She had no parents now. Chance and the duke were her only family, and soon the duke would be gone too. She wished Chance were here. He would have something uplifting to say. He always did. He could always make her feel better.
There was a knock on her door. “Come in,” she called.
Chance stepped into the room and closed the door. He looked around, spotting her on the window seat and came to sit beside her.
“Speak of the devil,” Obedience said wearily.
“To whom were you speaking to?” Chance raised an eyebrow as he approached her.
“I was thinking of you right before you knocked,” she admitted. “Should you be in here?”
Chance smiled triumphantly. “I can come and go as I please now. You're mine.”
Obedience felt her face flush all the way to her hair. Something about his words had set off a physical reaction inside her. Her pulse quickened, and she felt different all over her body.
He sobered as he looked at her. “Are you all right? Today has been more difficult than I anticipated.”
“I'm overwhelmed and… Well, I don't know what else. I'm at odds with myself.”
“Do you regret marrying me already?” he teased.
She knew he was trying to lighten the moment. “No, I'm just trying to keep up with all the change and failing miserably.”
“I agree. I would have never believed you capable of fainting if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. I thought you were made of sterner stuff.”
Obedience huffed. “I am made of sterner stuff. You try coming to terms with the rejection of your family and marriage to someone you hadn't seen in five years in the period of four days. And at the same time, finding out the man who I love like my own father is going to die,” she finished angrily. Tears pricked her eyes.
“I'm sorry. You're right. I've asked so much of you, and you've taken it all in stride. I owe you so much gratitude for today, Obedience. A lifetime of groveling at your feet will never be enough.”
Obedience watched him dubiously. “I accept your apology.”
“I'd like to kiss you now.”
“Oh?” Just like that, all her anger and confusion melted away.
“Yes. Our ceremony was lacking something that I would like to rectify.”
“What was it?”
“A kiss, to seal our vows. Dominic and Lilly did it. It’s quite scandalous, but I think we've already jumped that puddle. And we're alone now...as husband and wife.”
Obedience licked her lips. “Are... Are we going to...”
Chance smiled again. “Not this afternoon, no. But I will come to you tonight if that is all right?”
Obedience took a deep breath and nodded.
“Do you remember what I said about going slow? I'm happy to give you all the time you need.”
She nodded again. Images and sensations of the carriage ride were filling her mind, and her skin was itchy with anticipation. Going slow... Yes, that sounded lovely. Slow kisses, slow touches, how divine it all sounded. She couldn't wait.
Chance looked down at her dreamy eyes. “Can I kiss you now?”
She nodded.
He brought a hand up to her cheek, his thumb glided over her bottom lip, and her mouth opened a little. “We are now man and wife,” he said softly. She tipped her chin up in anticipation. He brought his lips to hers, folding his arms around her. She dropped her knees and turned into him, opening her mouth and bringing her hands to his hair. He slipped his tongue into her mouth and she met him. Their tongues danced a rhythmic give and take until he pulled away.
“There.”
She licked her kiss-swollen lips but did not let go of him. “Is that all for now?”
He nodded. “The archbishop will be leaving shortly. We may have ruffled his feathers a bit with our unusual union.”
Obedience shrugged. “I tend to ruffle feathers.”
“I like it when you ruffle my feathers.” He dipped his head and licked her lips.
She turned pinker, her breasts pressing against his chest as she leaned into him. “I'm not the only one doing the ruffling, you know.”
He smiled wickedly. “I'll be doing so much more than ruffling, my sweet.”
Chance returned to his father and the archbishop. They had concluded their visit, and the archbishop was waiting for his carriage to be ready.
“It's a shame you must leave so soon.”
“I've many duties to attend to, but I am glad I could be of use to you in this delicate time. I wish you all the best in your marriage.” He turned to the duke and his face softened. “Maltravers, it has been an honor to know you, and quite enlightening if I may say.”
The duke nodded. “And I you, my friend. Safe travels.”
Chance bowed before the archbishop and he took his leave. Closing the study door, Chance watched his father as he poured himself a finger of brandy. His father looked pensive as he stared at the papers on his desk, lightly touching a silver inkstand with one finger.
“I do not like these goodbyes. It feels odd to know I am seeing someone for the last time.”
Chance sipped his brandy and took a chair before his desk. “You don't actually know that. We can only guess what the future will hold.”
His father didn't respond.
“Obedience has recovered from the wedding. I dare say it was a trial for all of us.”
“I did not intend it to be so,” the duke said forlornly.
“We did what we could.”
“Did we make the right decision? Forcing her to the alter for the sake of an old man’s wishes?”
Chance hid his surprise behind another sip of his brandy. “It's too late for regrets.”
“I thought I would be doing right by her. I thought her f
ather would be pleased to know that she was a part of our great family, but now I feel selfish.”
“I agreed to the marriage for the same reason she accepted my proposal. We did it out of love for you, and because there is fondness between us. Many couples marry for much less. I will do everything in my power to make her happy, Father. I swear it to you, just as I would swear it to her father.”
His father nodded. He looked somewhat mollified. The day had clearly taken its toll on him, as well.
“Why don't you go rest? We can have an informal dinner in your room, and you will see that she is fine. Everything will be fine.”
Chance knocked on Obedience's door, intending to escort her to his father’s rooms for dinner. She opened the door looking very much revived. Good, his father would be pleased. “You look lovely,” he said.
“You said that this afternoon when I was in one of my finest gowns. Now I'm wearing a plain cotton gown. It is a pretty shade of pale yellow but far beneath my other gown.”
“You will always look lovely to me.” He took her hand and pulled her from the room. He took her to the back stairs, holding her hand in his and admiring the way her curls bounced about her shoulders with only half of her hair pinned up.
They reached the duke’s suite far too quickly in his mind. He should have found a dark corner and kissed her senseless, but then they would have been late. Entering the antechamber, they found the duke already at the table sipping a glass of wine. A summer storm in the distant hills had brought gray clouds overhead, choking off the early evening light. Candles lit the room, lending a quiet ambiance to the informal dinner. Chance held out Obedience's chair as she sat and greeted the duke. Chance took his seat, relieved that the day was finally ending and the night held such promise. The footman began to serve them, and they settled into a routine of eating and sipping from their glasses. There was little conversation beyond initial greetings. Obedience and his father seemed content to eat in silence. Chance could feel the strain of the day sapping his energy and assumed they felt the same. His father looked older in the meager light. The shadow cast by the candlelight enhanced the lines of his face. He ate little and at a slow pace, leaning forward heavily on the left arm of his chair. Chance made a mental note to summon the doctor tomorrow, just for the sake of his peace of mind. His father was changing, his strength waning each day, his physical appearance being altered drastically. It was heartbreaking to see, and a reminder that time was running out. Obedience smiled at him frequently and ate with gusto. After dessert had been cleared from the table, Chance helped his father to bed, and Obedience pulled a chair to his side and read to him. Chance listened with his eyes closed, his arms folded behind his head, and boots crossed at the ankles as he reclined in his father’s favorite chair beside the fireplace. Her voice was soothing, light and soft, changing octave with the tone of the words.
She stopped reading. Chance opened his eyes and looked over to them. She was staring at his father intently and stood to put a hand on his chest. Chance stood from the chair, his body tensed to react but frozen in place. She sighed with relief, her hand moving with the inhale and exhale of his father’s. She looked at Chance and smiled with relief. His father was sleeping soundly.
Chance waved her to the door, taking her hand as they entered the hall and escorted her back to her room. She turned to him expectantly when he didn't follow her in, and raised a brow in question.
“How much time do you need to prepare for bed?”
“I just need to change.”
Chance reached in and pulled the bell pull beside her door. “I'll be back in a quarter hour.” He pulled the door closed and left her, the intrigued look on her face haunting him all the way back to his room.
Each minute felt like ten. He paced in his room, dressed down to his breeches and dressing robe. The breeches a reminder that tonight was not for his pleasure but for hers. It would be too tempting if he went without, although he usually slept nude. That was another question he had yet to answer for himself. Would he stay the entire night? It was tempting, but what if he took advantage of her in his sleep? A ludicrous notion, his mind answered, but another part of his anatomy made him doubt himself. Looking at the clock, he exhaled in frustration and left his room. He arrived at her door just as the maid was leaving, her eyes downcast as she passed him. Chance opened the door and found Obedience tucked in bed, hair curling madly about her shoulders. He paused and just looked at her, afraid to move closer for a heartbeat.
Seven days ago, if a fortune teller had told him he would be anticipating his wedding night, he would have laughed uproariously. But here he was and there she was, watching him nervously, her eyes as round as teacups. He entered and closed the door, turning the key to lock it. There was a soft click, the only sound in the room. He walked forward and untied his robe, pulling it from his shoulders. She looked down at his breeches and frowned. He almost smiled.
“A last bastion, so to speak.”
She frowned even more. “Against what?”
“Against going further than I intend to.” He put one knee on the bed. She was obviously disappointed.
Sliding to his knees and sitting on his haunches, he watched the play of emotions on her face as she took in his appearance.
“I don't understand,” she finally said.
“I promised I would go slow.”
“I understood that, but I thought...” Her cheeks colored. She pressed a hand to one cheek. “I suppose I don't know anything about what to expect.”
He chuckled and scooted closer, pulling the coverlet from her lap and taking her hand to pull her up to her knees in front of him. “That's all right. That is precisely why I want to go slow. You can take all the time you need to become accustomed to me and the shared intimacy between us. Tonight is about your pleasure.”
“But we will...you know.” She shrugged her shoulders.
Laughter rumbled in his chest as he pulled her closer. “No, sweet, not tonight. Have no fear.”
She tried to push away from his chest but he held her firmly.
“I have no fear. I want to know it all.”
“You're not ready,” he said. “We don't have to rush this.”
She ground her teeth together. “We've kissed and touched. What more is there?”
He smiled rakishly. “Quite a bit more.”
“More than can be shown in a single night?” she said incredulously.
He sighed. “This is for your own good. Many women don't like the marital act. I want you to enjoy what we do.” He pulled her hips against his, and he was already fully aroused. “I want you to crave it. Therefore, we will go slow, taking things step by step so you don't get spooked.”
“You've decided this all for my benefit?” she said in annoyance.
“Yes. It isn’t open to negotiation.”
“And what, my oh so unshakable husband, are we going to do this night?”
“I've been waiting all day to show you.” He dipped his head and claimed her lips. She might not like his plan, but she wouldn't be able to think coherently once he was done with her. If she thought she wouldn't be satisfied with what he had to offer, she would soon find out otherwise. Digging his fingers into her hair, he held the back of her head firmly while he ravaged her mouth. She was pliant in his arms—no fear, no reticence, only acceptance and untutored passion.
He pressed her back to the bed, sweeping a hand down her back. His hand swept over the curve of her bottom, to hook at her knees and pull them out from under her. Coming down on top of her, he rolled to the side and pulled up the hem of her nightgown, hooking her knee over his leg. He slid his hand up higher under her nightgown, running his hand over her bare skin. She shivered in his arms, a whole body vibration. Gasping, she pulled away, arching her back and pressing her breasts hard against his chest. He released his hold and loosened the tie at the neck of her nightgown. Pulling it loose, he slipped it over one pale shoulder and kissed her soft skin. She pressed her body against hi
s, her softness against his hardness. She was writhing with desire, shooting past his planned measured pace, eroding his patience and control with her fervor.
He had to pull back, take control of the situation, and slow her down. Then she set her hands to his chest, her fingernails lightly scoring his skin. He clenched his teeth against a wave of intense lust. She tucked her hips, grinding against the ridge of his arousal, all but decimating his restraint. She did it again and again, whimpering with pleasure. He caught her lips again to distract her, delving his tongue deep inside her mouth and stealing her breath. There he played, and with his free hand, he tugged her neckline lower, exposing her breasts. He cupped her, squeezing and molding her until she pressed back against his hand and fought to pull her mouth away to moan. He let her, and then he lowered his head to her breast to pull her nipple into his mouth, startling a scream from her.
He gentled, soothing her tender skin and using soft licks to set fire to her skin. Her leg hitched higher over his, pressing the core of her body harder against his erection. He groaned aloud, unable to harness his own response to her. Her eyes snapped open and met his with wonder. He suckled her harder, holding her gaze until she threw her head back and moaned. Gripping her bare hip, he moved his hand to the soft skin of her inner thigh, trailing his fingers upward to her curls and running his fingers along the cleft of her womanhood. She shivered again, her head still thrown back, but he knew he had her complete attention.
She was wet and hot, ready for him, but he still had some of his wits about him. He was straining in his breeches, so aroused it was almost painful, but he was still in control. He teased the entrance to her body with his fingers. She hitched her leg even higher, opening herself to him.
“Please, Chance,” she begged.
He knew what she wanted, but he wasn't going to give it to her. Not yet. He grabbed her knee and pushed it wider until she had to roll to her back. He slid down, wedging his shoulders between her legs and forcing them even wider.
