Sins of an Intoxicating Duchess: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Violet Hamers

  “Thank you, Mamma,” Selina replied. It was the day of her wedding, and she was almost ready.

  “Faith! You’ve outdone yourself,” Lady Quinton gushed. Faith colored.

  “Thank you, My Lady,” she murmured.

  “Come here,” Lady Quinton said. “I’ll put some flowers in your hair.”

  “It’s fine, My Lady,” Faith replied.

  “Nonsense,” Selina assured her. “You should look pretty today, too!”

  Faith sat down, and Lady Quinton began to stick a few little blooms into Faith’s bun.

  Selina stood, walking to look at herself in the full-length mirror. Her mother had brought a new pure-white gown, with bell sleeves and an empire waist. It was made of silk, covered by Chantilly lace.

  From her ears, there were drop-pearl earrings, and a blue-ribbon choker necklace with a matching drop-pearl pendant. Her hair was in a low chignon, with a few curls. There were tiny white flowers threaded into her hair on the left side.

  Since it was June, she had eschewed her silk elbow-length gloves for a pair of delicate lace gloves that came to her wrists, buttoning.

  “I must be clairvoyant, eh ma chère?” her mother asked, winking. “Your father was laughing at me when I bought it.”

  “You must be,” Selina agreed.

  “Eh,” she replied, in a manner that was entirely French. “Tant pis. Too bad. That’ll show him to laugh at me. I told him, our petit ingenue est trés enchanté avec cet duc.”

  “I bow to your absolute rightness, my dear,” Lord Quinton said from the door. Selina’s father was looking very dapper in his best bespoke suit.

  “Do you like him, Papa?” she asked. Since her parents had arrived only the day before, she hadn’t had a moment to ask him.

  “Darling, I adore him,” her father assured her. He offered her his arm. “It’s almost time.” Selina took his arm.

  Her mother kissed the air beside her cheek. “Faith and I will go and take our seats.”

  “My Lady!” Faith said. “I’m not—”

  “Faith, you’re my right hand,” Selina said. “If you’re not in the front row, I’ll positively revolt.”

  Faith smiled. “Can’t have that, then, My Lady.” She followed Lady Quinton out. Selina had known, of course, and had given Faith a soft-blue muslin for the occasion. It brought out the maid’s pale golden hair and blue eyes.

  She smiled up at her father, who had tears in his eyes.

  “Oh, Papa,” she said, “don’t you cry.”

  “Oh, my dear,” he said sniffling. “No lesser gentleman could deserve you.”

  She patted him on the arm. “I’m getting married, Papa. Not dying.”

  “Quite right, my dear. Quite right.” He dabbed at his eyes with his handkerchief.

  Selina beamed at him.

  The gardens at Gillingham Manor had been transformed. White chairs had been set up in rows down the center, leading up to the small lake. They were filled with the guests.

  Jasper stood, alone, at the front of all those gathered. His best man, Stephen, sat next to the Dowager Duchess. Weakened after the shooting, he had made it out of the house for the special occasion but had been told by the physician that he shouldn’t be doing anything strenuous. So, he was seated beside his mother, keeping her company.

  Jasper smiled as Lady Quinton and Faith came out. Lady Quinton beamed at him, waving. He smiled and waved back at her. Selina’s family had arrived a few days ago. He was not disappointed. Lord and Lady Quinton had welcomed him to the family, clearly not holding it against him that he hadn’t asked for their daughter’s hand in person.

  “If you’re in love, then you’re in love,” Lady Quinton had said.

  “Who are we to stand in the way?” Lord Quinton had added.

  His heart beat in his chest. Jasper had not been this excited for anything since he was a child, at Christmastime. Over the past month, he had pictured this day, so many times. Here it was. It was going to happen.

  The violins began to play, and then Selina, her hand tucked into the bend in her father’s arm, was walking toward him.

  She was dressed in a pure-white silk gown, with an elegant lace overlay. Her hair was pulled into a low bun, and curls framed her face. She beamed at him, her eyes sparkling with tears of joy.

  He heard and saw no one else. His world seemed to shrink all the way down to just the two of them. She seemed to float toward him.

  Then, Lord Quinton was leaning in toward him, “Take care of her, Your Grace,” he said, winking. Lord Quinton, Jasper noted, had tears in his eyes.

  Jasper shook his hand. Lord Quinton placed Selina’s hand in his.

  She beamed at him, wiping away a stray tear that had slipped down her cheek. He took her hand, and then, together, they walked up the steps of the dais, toward where the priest awaited them.

  At long last, he stood, holding her hands in his, as they faced each other. He took her in, wanting to remember this moment for as long as he lived. His face was beginning to hurt from how long he’d been smiling.

  “We are gathered here, as family and friends, to witness the marriage of these two bright souls,” the priest began. “Jasper Henry Munro and Selina Elisabet Drake. We are here to celebrate their union and their love for each other. And,” the priest said, “I’ve been assured by both that there is absolutely no reason for me to ask if anyone objects to this union.”

  There was laughter. Selina grinned at Jasper. This had been her idea.

  “Thus, I will skip that bit, as per their request, since I believe this marriage will occur whether or not anyone disagrees.”

  “That’s for certain,” Selina said.

  “Agreed,” Jasper added.

  “Well, since there will be no objections, let us begin,” the priest said.

  “Do you, Jasper Henry Munro, Duke of Gillingham, take Selina Elisabet Drake to have and to hold, to love, honor, and cherish, from this day until your last?”

  “I do,” he said, looking into those bright hazel eyes, which were so green, with that golden touch of honey. She smiled at him, her face lighting up.

  “And do you, Lady Selina Elisabet Drake, take Lord Jasper Henry Munro to have and hold, to love, honor, and cherish, from this day until your last?”

  “I do,” she said. Jasper grinned broadly, his heart swelling up at the sound of her, agreeing to be with him, forever. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was.

  “Do you, Jasper, take Selina to be your lawfully-wedded wife?” the priest asked him.

  “I do,” he said. “Wholeheartedly.”

  “And do you, Selina, take Jasper to be your lawfully-wedded husband?”

  “I do,” she replied. She squeezed his hands, which rested in hers. He squeezed back.

  The priest handed Jasper the ring to place on Selina’s finger. “Repeat after me—With this ring, I thee wed.”

  “With this ring, I thee wed,” he said, his voice husky with emotion as he slipped the ring over the joint in her finger, claiming her for his own. He looked down at it, the silver against the pale cream of her skin.

  “I now pronounce you married,” the priest said. “Lords and Ladies, the Duke and Duchess of Gillingham.” Jasper beamed at Selina, his whole being suffused with warmth at the sound of her new title. Selina was blushing, roses in her cheeks.

  They both leaned toward each other, kissing. He held her to him, as all their friends, family, neighbors cheered.

  “Your Grace,” Jasper said, offering her his arm. “Come with me to our party.”

  “Let’s go!” she said. They both turned toward the aisle, walking together as everyone stood. As he passed, he pressed his mother’s hand. Tears were streaming down her cheeks.

  He looked over at Selina, just at the same time that she turned to beam at him. He was going to remember this moment, for the rest of his life. He had never been so happy.

  The party continued into the early evening. Selina had never smiled so much. It was the perfect day. As
things began to wind down, she and Faith left Jasper to say goodbye to the guests. Faith helped her out of her gown, then into a lacy chemise. She wore a peignoir over the top, tied with a silk ribbon. Faith undid her hair, so that it was long, flowing over her shoulders.

  “Thank you, Faith,” she murmured, her heart pounding.

  “You’re welcome, My Lady.” Then, Faith left.

  She waited for Jasper, her heart pounding. She folded her hands, wondering what to do with herself while she waited. Her mother had long told her what to expect on this night, and it had always made her blush bright crimson. Now that it was happening, she was nervous, but excited.

  In the firelight, her hair and skin were golden. The door opened, and she turned.

  Jasper entered the room, his eyes drinking in the sight of her. He walked over to her. He reached out, touching one of her long, blonde locks.

  He placed his hand on her cheek, lifting her face up to his, covering her lips with his.

  Her nerves began to vanish, replaced by the heat of desire. She was his, as much as he was hers. She stood up, placing her hands on his chest.

  “Are you nervous?” he asked her.

  She shook her head. “Not at all. Are you?”

  “A little,” he said, running his thumb over her bottom lip. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while.”

  “Me, in particular?” she asked, coyly.

  “Yes, Your Grace,” he said, causing a warm tingle to flow through her veins. It was going to take some getting used to her new title.

  “Then you shall have me,” she replied, standing up straighter, pressing her hips against him. His body was hard with lean muscle, which she felt through his clothing. She watched as his eyes darkened with desire. He gave her a crooked smile.

  He tugged on the ribbon, so that her peignoir opened, like the bow on a gift that he was unwrapping. She let it fall from her shoulders, the silk slipping down her arms.

  At that moment, her heart racing, she felt bold. Wanted. Cherished.

  She undid the top of her nightgown, unbuttoning it, then taking it off, letting it fall from her shoulders to pool on the ground. She raised her eyes to meet his, seeing how much he wanted her.

  She stepped over to him, in nothing but her skin and the light from the fire. She felt like a goddess, from ancient times—powerful, feminine.

  Selina reached for him.

  “Allow me,” he said, holding her gaze as he tugged his jacket off and then pulled his shirt up and over his head. Her eyes traveled over his chest—muscular, covered in a light dusting of dark hair.

  She’d never thought of him naked. Now, seeing him this way, she found that there was more of him that was hers, and hers alone. To know him, intimately, excited her.

  She sat back on the bed, watching him remove his boots, then his breeches. He was perfectly formed in every way. The way that the firelight played across the planes of his skin, lighting up his muscles, it made her think of a Renaissance painting. Anticipation made her skin tingle.

  He walked over to her, sitting down beside her, taking her by the hand.

  “I’ve thought about this moment for so long,” he murmured, his voice low like a growl. Selina had thought that she’d known him, completely. This was a new side of him, one which she liked. How had he hidden his physical desire for her? Right then, it was on the surface. She felt her own, rising to answer.

  He placed his hand on her cheek, his thumb on her bottom lip. She kissed his thumb, sucking on it, then nipping the meat of his. His eyes flashed with dark desire, grabbing her hips, and pulling her into his lap. His hand on her lower back, holding her close to him.

  With his other hand, he placed it on her stomach, trailing his fingers downward. He parted her netherlips with his fingers, stimulating. She moaned softly.

  “God, you’re absolutely perfect,” he murmured. Parting her legs, he continued to stimulate.

  “What is this?” she murmured, rather enjoying it.

  “It’ll help,” he replied. He got down on his knees by the bed. He began to use his tongue. A warm sensation filled her stomach, as he teased her.

  She began to pant a little. She was reminded of butterflies’ wings, beating quickly. A flower, slowly blooming, its petals stretching open. “Oh, Jasper,” she moaned, her voice taking on a darker edge.

  “Do you like it,” he asked. She opened her eyes.

  This was not at all how she’d imagined it—she had expected it to go awkwardly. But this wasn’t at all awkward. It was moving forward smoothly, and she was enjoying herself.

  He kept going, his tongue lapping at her like a cat’s. He was gentle, teasing. She arched her back, her hips bucking as her orgasm crashed through her, like waves. His hands held her hips.

  He got onto the bed beside her, sitting back against the pillows. “Come here,” he said, holding his hands out to her.

  Selina found herself wanting more—she wanted him inside of her. She knelt beside him, and wrapped her fingers around his manhood, pumping up and then down. He hardened in her hand.

  “Come here,” he said softly, guiding her with his hands as she moved into his lap, straddling his hips with her legs. He guided himself to her entrance.

  She lowered herself onto him, feeling the pain as her hymen broke. It was excruciating, but only for a moment. She kept going, and he guided her, using his hands on her hips.

  Suddenly, she relaxed, and then the pleasure came, building, slowly. She felt her skin heat. She moaned, softly.

  He laid her back onto the bed. He entered her again. She rocked her hips upward, to meet his.

  She bit her lip. He moved slowly, then as he hardened inside of her, he began to quicken his movements. He held himself up, his muscular arms supporting him so that he didn’t crush her.

  He lowered his lips, taking her nipple in between his teeth, then sucking. She felt a warm flash in the bottom of her stomach. She cried out softly.

  Selina arched her back as he continued, his eyes were on her, gauging her reaction. She cried out as waves of pleasure wracked her.

  He stopped, watching her with a smile.

  “What?” she asked, raising her eyebrow.

  “You’re shaking,” he said softly.

  She reached up, placing her hand on his cheek, bringing his mouth to her lips. He continued, moving in and out of her. She rocked her hips, taking her own pleasure. This is what she had been told to expect—that making love was pleasurable. And if done right, then she would enjoy it. Jasper was certainly doing everything right.

  But so am I.

  He cried out, softly. “Oh, darling,” he said, his breaths coming in gasps.

  “Come here, love,” she replied as he began to move faster, rocking his hips.

  His eyes were so tender, as he looked at her. Spent, he lay down beside her. She looked at him as he caught his breath. She lay on her side, taking in all of him.

  “You thought of this?” she asked, going back to what he’d said. “Often?”

  He opened his eyes, smiling at her. “And other things, too.”

  “Are you going to show me?” she asked, finding herself deeply curious to know what else there was. He kissed her hand.

  “Yes.”

  Epilogue

  It was a beautiful spring day. The sky was a deep blue, and the sun shone down on the verdant green of the grass. Overhead, a pair of swallows flew, wheeling about in the soft April breeze.

  Jasper and Selina walked, together, just along the edge of Gillingham Manor. He glanced over at her. She was dressed in a simple blue muslin, her hair arranged in a low bun, with gentle curls around her face. Her straw bonnet was on her head, with a black silk ribbon tied beneath her chin. One of her hands was tucked into the crook of his arm, while the other rested on her stomach, which was softly rounding as their first child grew inside of her. They had been married for eleven months. It was the happiest year that Jasper could recall.

  They stopped in the paddock by the stables
so that Selina could give Aphrodite an apple. The delicate mare made her way over to Selina, knowing full well that her mistress had brought her treats.

  “Oh, I do miss you,” she said to her favorite horse, scratching her on the forehead with her nails. Aphrodite tossed her head, clearly wanting to be taken out for a ride.

  As his wife greeted her horse, Jasper’s eyes caught a horse and rider, coming down the long drive to Gillingham Manor. The horse was unfamiliar, but the rider looked a little bit like Stephen.