by Matilda Hart
He slipped a shaking hand beneath her skirts, which had ridden up her thighs from her unladylike position across his lap, and slipped his fingers into the crease beneath her petticoat. She knew she was wet, and his fingers slid easily up and down its length, making her desire rise, and her moans with them. He kissed her into silence when he slid one finger down enough to push it into her hungry center. She squeaked, but rolled her hips, encouraging him to do it again. He obliged, sending his finger deeper and adding a second, and when she found herself unable to hold steady above him, she began to move.
“That’s it, my sweet. Ride my fingers. Show me how much you need me.”
He plunged in in time to her downward strokes, and before long she felt a fire building in her core. It grew wilder and faster and hotter than she could bear, and when he stroked his finger over the bundle of nerves at the top of her slit, she cried out into his mouth, clinging to him desperately as her skin burned and her core leaked fluids, and her limbs trembled. She was breathless and aching for more, suddenly needing to feel the tempting length she sat on stroking into her.
“Please, Robert,” she whispered. “Please, I want more.”
Her cheeks flamed as she begged him for more, but she needed to feel him, and she knew he had not had the relief she had just experienced. When William had found relief in her body, he had called out in pleasure, and Robert had been silent.
“And you shall have it, my love,” he promised, “but I will not have my first time with you to be in a carriage with my driver for an audience.”
He kissed her deeply, pushing his fingers up inside her again, teasing her and bring her back to the edge, before withdrawing them. She watched in utter fascination as he licked them clean, and blushed when he whispered,
“You are delicious, and this is better than afternoon tea.”
The wicked grin on his face had her smiling in return as he helped her off his lap. The front of his trousers was damp from her pleasure, and she turned shy eyes to his face when she saw it.
“Do not fret, my love,” he said, taking her hand to his lips. “It will be dry by the time we return.”
They made the rest of the ride circumspectly, with Lavinia pointing out spots of interest, and providing running commentary on the environs through which they passed. By the time they arrived back at her parents’ home, not only was he dry, but the scent of their foreplay had dissipated, no doubt due to the opening of the carriage windows during the drive.
“Was it a lovely drive?” Mama asked when she walked into the house.
Lavinia saw the glint of humor in her mother’s eyes and fought the urge to blush.
“Yes, thank you, Mama, it was quite pleasant,” she replied coolly, avoiding looking at Robert, who was standing in the doorway to the parlor where the women had headed.
“Good. Perhaps you can help me to lay the table, after you show the Duke where he may have a wash,” her mother said. “I’ve had the boys help his valet set things up for him.”
Lavinia noted the smile on Robert’s face, and the way her mother smiled back at him. She was happy that her parents had accepted him, because she was coming to feel a great deal for him, and she decided that if she had had to choose between him and William, she would have chosen him every time.
Dinner was a happy affair, unlike the solemn business it had been the evening before with William. She hoped he had arrived back in Tillygrove safely, and decided that she had nothing to be guilty about in her feelings for Robert. After all, he was her husband, and she was free to love him, even if she could not remember doing so before. All she knew for certain was that she had felt nothing for William but mild affection, but her feelings for Robert were blossoming like flowers in the Spring, and she seemingly had no control over them.
The pudding was finally eaten, the table cleared, and Robert made a request.
“The first time I saw Lavinia gain. she was singing at a birthday party,” he told her family. “She has a voice like an angel. Did you know?”
Mama smiled, and nodded. “We know, Your Grace,” she replied.
“If you don’t mind, Lavinia, I would like a song.”
“Sister, sing ‘Robin Adair’,” her youngest brother demanded.
Lavinia obliged, much to everyone’s delight, but she found herself more pleased by her husband’s regard than by any other. When she sang the last measure, his eyes told her he wanted to kiss her, and she felt herself grow warm at the prospect of his lovemaking.
“That was beautiful, Lavinia,” Papa said, a wide smile of approval on his face. “I had forgotten how your singing moves me. We must do this again tomorrow.”
Lavinia smiled her consent, feeling content for the first time in a week, and happier than she could ever remember feeling.
“I suppose we had best retire for the evening,” her mother said.
“The Duke and I will share a last drink first,” her father said, and pushed back his chair. “Come with me, Your Grace,” he invited Robert, who stood and followed him into the small room he called his study.
Lavinia watched them go, and looked anxiously at her mother.
“Not to worry, love,”, Mama reassured her. “He’s just welcoming the Duke to the family. You need to go and get ready for bed until he comes.”
This time she could not stop the blush from staining her cheeks. her mother’s quiet chuckle followed her up the stairs.
Chapter 7 — The Ancient Dance of Love
The room was dark and quiet when Robert finally made his way up to bed. Two glasses of port and a quiet handshake welcomed him officially to the family. Robert couldn’t be more pleased. He was glad his father-in-law agreed that they should find the ones who had hurt them, and for the first time in eighteen months, he felt less despair than he had become used to feeling.
Moving quietly so as not to wake his wife, he stripped naked and slid into bed beside her. The bed was not nearly as large as the one in his bedchamber at the Abbey, but that suited his purpose just fine. He needed to feel her as close to him as possible, and he was happy to forego the luxury of his huge bed for this simpler, more intimate version. He looked at her in the moonlight that streamed through the uncovered window, and his heart soared with joy at the sight of her beside him at last.
He stroked her cheek gently, needing her to wake so he could ravish her. His body had been aching all day since their play in the carriage, and he could wait no longer to claim his prize. His cock was hard as stone, and his desire raged as she stirred and opened her eyes.
“I need you, my love,” he whispered hoarsely, and stroked her cheek again before bending to kiss her lips.
“I’m sorry. I fell asleep,” she whispered back. “I tried to wait for you.”
“You are beautiful when you sleep,” he told her, caressing her face, pushing the hair back from her forehead, smiling into her sleepy eyes. “I could watch you sleep forever.” He kissed her forehead, and added, “But first, I must slake my thirst for you, my love.”
Her eyes gleamed at him in the moonlit darkness, and when she licked her lips, he groaned and kissed her soundly.
“Earlier today, you asked me for something, Lavinia,” he reminded her, nipping her bottom lip. When she moaned, he licked it, soothing the ache. “Do you remember what you asked for, my love?”
He kissed her again hungrily before letting her answer him. “Tell me what you asked for.”
“I asked for more,” she whispered, returning his kisses as greedily as he took them.
“What do you want more of, my love?” he inquired, sliding his hands down her neck to her breasts.
She wore a thin chemise and nothing more, and he reached for the hem of the garment and pulled it up and over her head, rendering her as naked as he was himself. The room was chilly, because the fire had almost gone out, but he would keep her warm with all he had planned for her. She shivered as he stroked her nipples, and when he slipped beneath the thick covering to suckle them, she muffled a cry of
pleasure with a fist in her mouth.
“Tell me what you want more of.” He repeated his inquiry, tormenting her nipples with hard pulls and soothing strokes, alternating sucking and licking them with pinching and pulling them. She was writhing beneath his hands, and apparently unable to speak.
“Do you want more of this?” he asked, kissing her deeply.
When she nodded, he smiled and kissed her again. “And what of this?” he wondered, teasing her nipple with a finger, brushing it lightly back and forth.
“Yes,” she whispered, pushing her chest into his hand.
“And this?” he wanted to know next, licking her throat and sliding his tongue down her body to her now rigid nipples, which he nipped sharply, making her cry out.
“Please, Robert, I want more,” she said, squirming beneath his body, which he had now draped half over her.
He slid his hands down her body to her mound, and squeezed her there. She pushed her hips into him, begging for him to do more. He gave her the touches she needed, sliding his finger between the lips of her sex, teasing her clit as he stroked her.
“More than this, my love?” he asked, and chuckled when she nipped his chin. “Then this must be what you desire,” he concluded, pushing a finger inside her.
She gasped, and he sent a second in to be its companion. “Is this better?”
Her body was trembling now with desire for his touch, and he felt her juices seeping from her as he tormented her, raising her need, building her desire for his cock, preparing her to receive the fullness of him.
“Did you tease me like this when we were first wed?” she asked unexpectedly. Her tone was frustrated.
“I did,” he admitted, “and you loved it.”
She rose to meet his plunging fingers, and he asked, “Do you not still love it, my sweet?’
“Yes,” she groaned when he touched the place inside her that made her shake violently.
His own body was beyond ready to take what she was offering, but he wanted her to find her release at least once more before he took her. Sending a third finger up into her core, he used his thumb to play with her clitoris, rubbing it in time with his thrusts, and she came hard, unable to hold herself together. He plunged in until her tremors eased, and then he slid up to seat himself inside her.
Despite her marriage to another man, she was tight around his shaft, and he had to hold himself still for a minute, to regain his control, or he would have lost himself in her sweet body, and missed the chance to make her find her pleasure again. It pleased him that she had apparently been lightly used, and then she pushed herself up beneath him, widening her legs to draw him in even more. and he forgot to think about anything but where he was and what he was giving to the woman he loved.
Robert rode her hard, slamming his hips into hers, covering her mouth with his own to swallow the cries of ecstasy that poured out of her as he made love to her. He moved faster, and her muted cries drove him wild until he could no more stem the tide of his own release than he could stop himself from breathing. He felt her explode with him as he came, and he hugged her tightly to his chest as he pumped into her, unable to stop until he was empty.
Breathless, he slid off her to lie beside her, pulling her into his arms and drawing the dislodged covers back over their cooling bodies. He loved knowing that she wanted him, and he would wake her again before morning, and take from the wellspring of her body the sustenance he needed to keep him hoping that she would soon remember that she loved him, too.
Chapter 8 — The Plot Thickens
The land leading to the farm was bare, and after the snow that had fallen overnight, it was also eerily silent. Lavinia rode along beside her husband, wondering what they would find out in this visit. He had grown silent as they approached the farmhouse, and by the time she was being helped down, his face was a grim mask. She marvelled at the change from the man who had taken her three times before they were forced to rise and make their way down to breakfast. He was focused now, and almost cold.
Seeming to sense her confusion, Robert turned to her, had patted the hand he held in the crook of his arm.
“Thank you for coming with me, my love,” he said.
“I wouldn’t wish to be elsewhere, my Lord,” she replied, smiling at him.
She wished he would kiss her, but she had sensed a reticence in him to display his affection for her openly, even with her family, who had accepted his right to claim her as his wife. She would respect his wishes and remain distant. The farmer’s wife answered his knock, and before long they were seated in her parlor, listening to her husband tell how he found her, and how he reunited her with her family.
“Do you have any idea how my wife came to be left where you found her?”
“None at all,” the farmer replied.
Robert sighed heavily. He had no way of knowing who had been contracted to lie about Lavinia’s death. And what if the bandits had been hired by someone to stop them from reaching her parents? The questions remained unanswered. He needed to find the doctor who had declared the body to be Lavinia’s. Perhaps he could shed more light on the events.
Rising, he bid farewell to the farmer and his wife, and returned to Lavinia’s home, where he left her and drove to the village to which he had been to identify the body of his dead wife. After a fruitless hour of searching, he found that the current doctor had not been in the village eighteen months prior, nor did he have any information about the man who had been there before him. He knew nothing of Lavinia’s case, and could only suggest that the Duke try to locate the former doctor in his hometown.
That seemed like a good idea, but it was late in the afternoon, so he decided to go the following to the town and hope that his luck would change. The evening passed pleasantly, and after everyone was abed, he made love to his wife twice before letting her fall into an exhausted sleep. She was such a willing lover, so eager to please him, and such a quick learner that he knew their love life would be passionate for as long as they lived.
Next morning, after his mother-in-law insisted that he take a hearty breakfast, and packed a picnic lunch for him and Lavinia, he set off to find the man who had declared his wife dead. Again, it took him a couple of hours to find the man, who it turned out had retired on a pension that seemed far in excess of the practice he had left behind. Immediately, it raised Robert’s suspicions, but he tamped them down, knowing he could not react in any way that might frighten Lavinia. She was still a gentle soul, despite all that had happened to her.
The doctor denied having been suborned to lie about the body he had declared dead, but Robert knew he was lying, and it infuriated him. Nevertheless, he bottled his rage and left the man’s home, intent on having him watched. Lavinia had remained silent throughout the meeting, but as they left, she said to him,
“I don’t think he was being truthful, Robert. What are you going to do?’
He smiled, despite his anger. She was as intelligent as she was beautiful, and he breathed another silent prayer of thanks for having found her when he had thought she was lost.
“I shall have him watched, my love. Now that you have come back to life, he will no doubt need to warn the others involved in the scheme of my appearance on the scene, and they will need to make plans, either to compose new lies, or, as might be smarter, to disappear.”
There was little else that he could do, but after apprising the local constabulary of the situation, he was assured that the good doctor would be carefully watched, and that any new information would be immediately provided to Lavinia’s father, who would get it to him. It had become clear that another young woman had been killed, possibly under suspicious circumstances, so the constable would not be averse to helping Robert in his quest, as it might also provide valuable information to himself.
“Was there anyone, aside from your father, who had any reason not to want to see us married, Robert,” Lavinia asked as they rode back.
“No one knew we were wed, my love, as you know. So even
had they a reason, they would have had no need to harm you as they did not know of your existence.”
“Did your father not know of me?” she persisted, and Robert looked down at her as she sat earnestly applying her mind to the question.
“He only knew that I had found a woman whom I loved,” he said, a deep dread settling in his gut as he spoke.
What if Lavinia’s suggestion that his father had known something of the circumstances was true? After all, he had too quickly been sent to war after her alleged death, and his father would not discuss the speed with which he had bought his son’s commission. And what he had not told her was that his father knew she was a commoner, and not of the gentry, and had been adamantly against their relationship. Knowing the kind of man his father had been, he could not put it past him to initiate some action to stop him from marrying a woman of whom he disapproved.
