One arm leveraging himself above her, Lucas used the other to guide himself into place, then with one steady push, he seated himself fully within her.
The fullness, at once overwhelming and deeply satisfying, stole Cecily’s breath. When she looked up, the planes of his face, only inches from her own, were stone hard, his eyes closed as if he were in pain.
Just then, his long lashes rose, and she was arrested by the intensity of his gaze.
“Hold on to me,” he ordered, his customary grin replaced with a serious expression that made her stomach leap.
He dipped his head and took her mouth. Her hands slid down to grasp his hard buttocks as he began to move within her, mouths and bodies working in tandem as they rocked together.
Cecily lifted her hips to meet his thrusts, digging her heels into the bed as she fought for purchase against the power of his penetration.
Lucas broke their kiss to bury his face in her neck. “Wrap your legs around me,” he said, his breath hot against her skin. Cecily was too far gone with feeling to mind his continued orders. It no longer mattered who was in charge or whether she might embarrass herself. Giving herself up to the demands of her body, and her husband, she drew her legs up to grasp him to her and was rewarded with a few more precious inches of fullness.
“Oh God.” The words escaped her as the feel of him sliding into her channel radiated through her in a wave of pleasure that nearly brought her to tears. And all the while she felt it building within her, urging her toward that same nameless pinnacle that she’d briefly reached the last time she and Lucas came together.
“Sorry,” he breathed into her skin. “Can’t wait.”
And as he spoke, he slipped both hands beneath her bottom, bringing her closer to him as he began to move harder, more erratically in and out, in and out. The increased momentum added to the need Cecily felt rising within her.
Of its own volition her body moved, rising to meet his pumping flesh in a feverish race toward ecstasy. Then, as if sensing how close she was to shattering, Lucas reached one hand down between their bodies and, with a flick of his thumb, sent her spiraling into wave after wave of mindless, wanton release.
Almost against her will she felt a rush of emotion as she plummeted over the edge of some invisible precipice, her chest filling with affection for this man who even now cradled her body as he found his own pleasure, bit lightly at the apex of her shoulder while he shuddered his own climax within her.
Fourteen
Cecily awoke to find herself alone in the enormous bed. Only a light indentation in the pillow beside her indicated that she’d not spent the night alone as she had done every other night of her life. A slight soreness, however, reminded her of last evening’s novel activities, and a flash of Lucas’s face as he held himself over her brought back a physical memory of what they’d done.
It had been much more pleasurable than the night in the club. Though that had been pleasant enough. She smiled to herself at the memory of his whispered words during their second coupling in the night. Who would have guessed Lucas to be such a romantic? It would be a struggle to keep herself from falling in love with him. She saw that now.
Maintaining a certain distance was crucial to the success of their marriage. Which meant that she must guard against such unfettered joinings as they had enjoyed last night. Part of her mourned for what might have been, had they been different people, free to act as they wished. But she had known the pain of losing a loved one before and only she could guard against exposing herself to such pain again. Lucas was a kind man, and she could not imagine him casting her aside as David had done, but who knew what might happen in the right circumstances? Even kind men could cause pain.
She dressed quickly and found her way downstairs to the breakfast room without incident. Though the house was much larger than Hurston House, it was well ordered. And though she was disappointed to find the chamber empty, she decided it was for the best. They should not live in one another’s pockets, after all.
She’d just accepted a second cup of tea from the footman when she heard what could only be her husband’s confident stride pass by the door.
Wiping her mouth, she hurried out into the hall, only to see his back as he took the stairs down to the floor below.
“Winterson,” she called to him, noting with a certain feminine satisfaction the way his broad shoulders filled out the dark blue coat. “Are you going out?”
He glanced behind him in surprise. Almost as if he were a small boy caught engaging in some activity his governess had strictly forbidden. But the look was gone in seconds, replaced with what looked suspiciously like pleasure at seeing her.
“Good morning, my dear.”
As it always did, his deep voice sent a little thrill down her spine. She steeled herself against her body’s reaction. It would not do for her to melt into a puddle of desire every time he bid her good morning. She’d never get a thing done at all.
“Good morning,” she answered, irritated when instead of sounding sophisticated, her own voice sounded breathy.
“Are you going out?” she asked again.
“Just out to White’s for a bit,” he said, taking her hand and drawing her down to the entrance hall, where the butler awaited them.
Lucas pulled her with him into a small parlor and shut the door firmly behind him. Before she could protest he pressed her against the door and took her mouth in a scorching kiss that sent currents of pleasure through her, reminding her in explicit detail of just where that mouth of his had been last evening.
“Good morning,” he whispered, against her lips. She opened her eyes, now drowsy with passion, to see his smiling down at her. “Now that is a proper greeting. I hope you will learn these small things I teach you about how a wife behaves with her husband.”
“Indeed.” She smiled, unable to keep the joy that suffused her at bay. “And how does a heretofore single gentleman like yourself learn all these details of marriage etiquette? Is there a book, perhaps?”
He kissed her nose and stepped back. “As a matter of fact, there is a book. However, I do not believe it gives rules per se. In fact there are rather more pictures than words. To illustrate the activities that most contribute to spousal happiness, I suspect.”
She reached out to return his cravat to something similar to what his valet had achieved, but it would never be the same, she feared.
“I look forward to your showing me this book.”
“Oh, fear not.” He grinned. “I will.”
He reached down to straighten his cuffs, “Now, madam wife,” he said, “I dislike leaving you here with all that pent-up energy, but I must be off.”
“Must you?”
“I’m afraid so,” he said. “I’m off to the club.”
“That’s all right, then,” she said. “I thought for a moment that you were off to visit Lord Peter Naughton without me.”
His eyes blinked, and it was enough to confirm her suspicion.
“You are!” she hissed. “I should have known you were trying to distract me with kisses. That is most unfair, Lucas!”
He had the grace to own his guilt. “I did genuinely wish to kiss you, my dear,” he said. “But I do need to visit Naughton, and I need to do so alone. I had hoped to forestall this discussion.”
“Oh, we will have this discussion now, Your Grace,” she fumed, pacing further into the room. “I should have known better than to think you’d play fair when it came to this investigation.”
“I am being reasonable, Cecily,” he said, stepping further into the chamber to stop her pacing. “There are some things that a gentleman feels more comfortable discussing with another gentleman. You cannot think that Lord Peter Naughton will speak in front of you about artifacts he may have purchased on the black market? He would be a fool to do so. Especially the daughter of the man from whom they were stolen. I’ll have a devil of a time getting him to speak to me, let alone to you.”
“But without me you will
have no way of knowing the value of the items. Or even ascertaining whether these are the items that were found in the Alexandria tomb.”
“And with you, I will not be able to see the items at all,” he countered. “Perhaps you can give me a brief description of what to look for.”
Cecily stared. Could he be so foolish?
At her look, he nodded. “Yes, I see. It is absurd of me to think you could teach me in a few moments what it’s taken you years to study. But surely there is something you could tell me to look out for.”
“There is no way, Lucas. You are a quick study, but as you say it would be impossible.”
She stared at him, her eyes appraising, before she stepped closer. He had the good sense to eye her with suspicion.
“What are you doing?” he asked her, as she stepped into his arms, and tilted her head so that she could press her lips against his.
“What do you think I’m doing?” she purred, kissing his cheek, and working her way down his neck.
“I suspect,” he said wryly, “that you are trying to seduce me into letting you come along.”
“As I said.” She nipped his chin, darting her tongue out to touch the slight indentation there. “A quick study.”
“Cecily.” His voice was low, raspy. “I have made up my mind.”
“Then you will just have to change it,” she whispered, lifting his hand up to cup her breast. “I do so want to come with you.”
“I know, my dear.”
She gave a little jump as his thumbs rubbed against her straining nipples. As she’d said before. A quick study.
“Please, Lucas,” she cooed. “You need me there. I promise that I will leave you to speak to him in peace so that you can have your man-to-man conversation. I will simply request to see his collection. I know his type. They are always eager to show off their most prized items. And he will be unable to resist letting the daughter of England’s foremost Egyptian explorer view his finds.”
Lucas nodded. He was clearly beginning to see some merit in the plan, though Cecily tried not to allow her triumph to show.
“All right,” he said against her hair before setting her firmly away from him. “I will let you come with me. But I must warn you that you’re playing with fire. If you intend to use this method to wheedle me around your little finger for the whole of this marriage you are very much mistaken. I have agreed to bring you along because you argued your point well. Any other inducements you offered, while pleasant, in no way affected my decision.”
What a liar, she thought, grinning at him. She supposed she must allow him these little solaces to his pride. Still, a little doubt gathered within her. Had she misjudged her effect on him? She was not as confident in her lovemaking skills as she was in her language skills. And she did not like being a novice. At anything.
“You have grown quiet all of a sudden,” he remarked as he assisted her into her pelisse, which had been brought forward by the household’s newest footman. When Cecily gave the young man a smile of thanks, the lad turned as red as a beet. Lucas bit back a grin. His new wife would need to ration her smiles, else she’d have the entire household staff mooning after her, including young George.
Cecily did not respond until he handed her into the waiting carriage.
“I am merely thinking about strategy for questioning Lord Peter,” she lied. She was thinking instead that she must guard against allowing her affection for him to turn into anything stronger. The last time she had succumbed to the wiles of a man she had lost all sense of perspective and dignity.
She would not let that happen again.
Once they were in the carriage, Lucas took her by the arm and seated her next to him, casually draping an arm around her shoulders. When she flinched away he looked down at her in surprise and removed it, nodding for her to return to her seat if she chose. With a heavy heart she did so.
“Apologies, my dear.”
Her heart constricted at the hurt he quickly masked before turning his gaze to the carriage window. But it was for the best. If she allowed their easy relationship to develop into anything deeper, they both stood to lose all sense of perspective. And that would spell disaster for this marriage.
* * *
The journey to Lord Naughton’s home in Kensington was brief and they were soon being shown into his lordship’s opulent drawing room. The magnificence of the architecture coupled with the vivid colors on the walls, the carpets, and the upholstery made the room as enthralling as anything Cecily had even imagined.
As the child of an antiquarian she was no stranger to the collector’s impulse to cover every available surface with bits and pieces of treasure. Her father had certainly done so with both his country and town houses. Lord Naughton, it would seem, had been unable to resist the impulse to show off his prize pieces as well.
“Remarkable,” she said, leaning in closer to examine a frieze of the Furies that had long ago been broken into three separate pieces, and was now mounted on a red silk-covered wall. “I believe this must have been part of the Parthenon marbles. I wonder how he was able to convince Elgin to part with it.”
“What, no date?” Lucas teased, his scent tickling her nostrils as he leaned over her shoulder to more closely inspect the piece. “I would have thought at the very least you could give an approximate value.”
“Priceless, I should imagine,” Cecily returned. Though she had long ago become accustomed to being around, and even working with, priceless artifacts, the notion that Lord Peter Naughton would place so valuable an item here in the open made her distinctly nervous. “Though there is no way of knowing, of course, without conducting a careful examination.”
The butler returned and informed them that Lord Peter would see them in his study. Cecily and Lucas followed him through the black-and-white marble-tiled hallway and upstairs to a room overlooking the gardens.
It was a richly appointed library, with glass-fronted mahogany bookshelves lining every wall, plush oriental carpets covering every inch of floor. The room had clearly been influenced by the owner’s love of antiquities and the Gothic, for the room itself was composed of a mixture of arches and curves and the mahogany-trimmed walls were adorned at regular intervals with exquisitely carved finials in the same finish. The walls—where they were not covered by artwork, sculptures, and floor-to-ceiling mirrors—were a rich, Moroccan red, at once arresting and warm.
“Your Graces,” Lord Naughton said, stepping out from behind a massive desk to offer Lucas a bow and to kiss the air above Cecily’s hand. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”
He was a devastatingly attractive man whose bright blond hair and wide shoulders put her in mind of a Viking warrior. She was not surprised that her cousin Madeline had found the viscount attractive. Especially if his manners were as handsome as his looks.
The man did not look as if he spent a great deal of time engaging in the sort of debauchery her cousin Jamie seemed to gravitate toward. His eyes were clear, and he did not sport any of the signs of dissipation she had come to expect from the more hardened rakes of the ton. Still, there was something about his eyes. Something jaded. He might not wear his sins upon his face, but he was clearly not a green youth.
“My lord,” Lucas began once he and Cecily had been seated. “We are here on a rather urgent matter with which I hope you will be able to assist.”
Naughton seemed surprised, but not unpleasantly so.
“Whatever it is, I hope that I may do so, Your Grace,” he said, his brows raised in curiosity.
“It has come to my attention that you have recently purchased some items of Egyptian origin for your personal collection.”
Lord Naughton’s gaze shuttered. “And if I have?” he asked silkily.
Before Lucas could answer, Cecily said, “We suspect that they may have been stolen during my father’s most recent expedition.”
Lucas flashed her a look of exasperation but added nothing.
Naughton leaned back in his chair.
“The expedition where your father fell victim to an apoplectic fit?” he asked. Then turning to Lucas, he added, “And where your brother went missing? That expedition?”
Cecily nodded.
“And is this theft a part of the curse, or is that strictly meant for the welfare of the expedition team and not the goods they retrieved from the angry Egyptian’s tomb?” His words were mild, but Cecily couldn’t miss the hint of sarcasm in the man’s tone.
“I suspect that all three unfortunate circumstances can be blamed on all-too-human perpetrators instead of nameless Egyptian gods,” Lucas responded dryly. “With the possible exception of Lord Hurston’s illness. Though there is some debate over whether his distress at my brother’s disappearance might have negatively affected his health.”
His words startled Cecily, but she remembered just in time not to let Lord Naughton see her surprise.
“Yes, well,” Naughton responded with an approving nod. “I have little use for superstitions, either, but one never can tell who will fall prey to such tales. I am sorry to hear about your father, Duchess,” he said, nodding to Cecily in acknowledgment. “He has done much to promote the appreciation of Egyptian artistry in our nation. I wish him a speedy recovery.”
“I beg your pardon, my lord,” Cecily said, after thanking him for his well wishes, “but you have not answered my husband’s question about your newest acquisition.”
Lord Naughton threw back his head and laughed. “You are delightful, Your Grace.” Turning to Lucas he asked, quite seriously, “Wherever did you find her, Winterson? I should very much like one myself.”
“I’m afraid that she is unique,” Lucas told the other man, before Cecily could voice her objection to being referred to as his possession. He thought wistfully of his earlier plan to call upon the collector alone, but chose not to dwell on it. “But she does raise a good point; please do tell us about your Egyptian pieces.”
Naughton sighed. “I suppose it was too much to hope you would be easily led away from the subject.” He ran a hand over the back of his neck, appearing to think over his next words carefully.
How to Dance With a Duke Page 23
