by Lavinia Kent
“Why are you not being honest with me?” Stephan rose to his feet and strode over until his boots brushed the hems of her skirt. “I thought we had moved past this last night.”
“I have told you nothing untrue.” Her gaze again dropped to her hands.
“But you have not told me the truth either. Truly, Bliss, I don’t know whether to take you in my arms and comfort you or put you over my knee and paddle you until you tell me what happened.”
She pressed her knees tight at his words, trying to ignore the warmth that grew in her core. She clenched her fingers tight. “I believe Temple might have wanted to paddle me also. I am not sure how he knew about you, but he clearly believed that I liked such things.”
“And you don’t like such things.” His voice grew low.
“I did not like what Temple tried.”
“So you are admitting that he did try…”
She stood, unmindful of his closeness. “Can we not talk of this another time—or perhaps never? It is over and done. I want to forget.”
Before she could say another word, she found herself pulled tight against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat filling her, reassuring her.
“I need to know, Bliss. How can I protect you if I don’t know what I am protecting you from? And I need to know for myself. Do you think it does not eat at me to realize that I might have placed you in danger? That my own desires could have caused you harm?”
“I don’t see how you can blame yourself. You were simply indulging what I wanted.” She wished her voiced had not quivered as she spoke.
“I think you know very well that I indulged you because I wished to. If I had wanted to, I would have tossed you over my shoulder and carried you back to your brother that first night. We were at Ruby’s because I wished to enjoy your response.”
The image of being tossed over his shoulder filled her. Blast, why did everything the man say make her fantasies run wild? After last night she should be done with fantasies, but every word that Stephan said left her edgy and wanting. “We were at Madame Rouge’s because it is what I wanted. If I had not wanted to be there nothing and nobody would have persuaded me. Do not forget that I make my own choices.”
He ran a hand through his hair, causing it to spring into unruly curls. “This conversation is becoming a knot.”
“Then why don’t we leave it for later,” she tried again. “I will promise that we will talk about it if you need to, but let it not be now. Give me time. Let me come to terms with everything myself, before I must share with you.”
Stephan opened his mouth, but before he could speak, the door burst open again and Swanston walked into the room. He glanced from one to the other, and then back, his lips compressed in a grim line.
“What the hell is going on?” he demanded.
Bliss could only stare at her brother. She’d never heard him use such language. He was always the most proper of all of the siblings, the only one to never cause scandal or do anything wrong.
Stephan stepped forward, moving between her and her brother. “I don’t know what you are referring to. Lady Bliss and I were merely having a conversation. Surely that is acceptable for an engaged couple.”
“Blast it all, Duldon. That is exactly what I am talking about. I slept late this morning and when I arose my porter congratulated me on the happy occasion before I’d even had my coffee. Did you not owe me the courtesy of at least discussing the matter with me?”
Stephan raised a brow. “I thought we had discussed it. You did agree that I could marry your sister. I believed it was arranged. And how could your porter know? I haven’t shared it with anyone.”
Swanston looked like he wanted to swear. “Apparently my porter knows your cook, who heard it from your valet. And I agreed that you could marry her if she agreed. I never thought that she would agree.”
So Swanston had been playing a game of his own. Bliss did wish he’d let her in on the fact—although perhaps things were better as they were. Who knows where she would be right now if she hadn’t been fighting so hard to be free.
Stephan stared at her brother, his friend, hostility rolling off him. “Do you have a problem with my marrying Bliss? I have already arranged for the church and sent the announcement to the papers, but I will listen if you have difficulties with our nuptials.”
Bliss was not feeling so patient. “First you told me I must marry him and now you don’t want me to…”
Swanston stepped to the side so that he could clearly see her. “I only want what is best for you.”
“And if I have decided that Duldon is the best thing for me?”
Swanston folded his arms across his chest. “I still have concerns and I believe that Duldon understands why. I am not sure that I actually wish you to marry a man such as he.”
Bliss wanted to roll her eyes. Brothers. They were never happy. “Well, I don’t have any such concerns.” At least, none that she would share with her brother.
“You do not know him as well as I do, Bliss.” Swanston was trying to sound reasonable.
“It really does not concern you any further, my friend,” Stephan said. “And I believe that your sister knows me quite well enough. Your concerns are groundless.”
A look passed between the two men. Bliss was not sure what it meant, but both chins rose and both sets of shoulders went back.
“Do I need to meet you at dawn? Or perhaps at Gentleman Jackson’s Boxing Salon?” Swanston asked after a moment, his gaze shifting between Bliss and Stephan.
“I am marrying her,” Duldon replied.
“And that is the problem.”
“Stop it, both of you,” Bliss said, unable to take any more. “I am not sure whether you are acting like children or merely like fools. I am marrying Duldon. It is as simple as that. Now smile at each other like the friends that you are.” She could not believe she was defending this marriage. A few minutes ago she’d still been unsure and now she was arguing with all her heart.
“I still am not sure,” Swanston said.
“You do not need to be sure. Now go home and give Louisa a hug and kiss for me. If she can survive marrying you, surely I can survive Duldon.”
Swanston gave her the strangest look, but then made his nods of farewell.
The moment he left the room, she turned to Stephan. “What do you mean that you’ve arranged for the church and put an announcement in the papers? I didn’t even confirm my agreement until a few minutes ago.”
“I was not giving you a chance to change your mind,” he said simply. “I procured a special license from the archbishop’s office this morning. We will be married this Sunday.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
Bliss, Lady Duldon.
Lady Duldon.
Lady Duldon.
No matter how many times she said the name in her mind, it was impossible to associate it with herself.
Lady Duldon.
Lady Duldon.
It just didn’t work.
Bliss glanced across the crowded entryway of Stephan’s home and tried to understand how she’d gotten here.
She’d protested when he’d told her the wedding would be so soon—and yet, here she was a new bride of two hours. The church had been surprisingly full considering the late notice. The curiosity of the congregation had been clear. She wasn’t sure whether they expected her to appear with a huge belly or whether she was supposed to twirl down the aisles flashing ankle and higher at every eligible man. They’d certainly been disappointed by the solemn and sober service performed by the bishop himself. There had not been a single vulgar moment—well, perhaps one. Her father had appeared in a coat the color of ripe cherries with heavy gold braid but he’d smelled distinctly of llama. The odor must have drifted as he’d walked her down the aisle. Certainly more than one matron had stared and then turned away, nose wrinkling.
Still, it had gone far easier than she had expected.
Which is how she’d gotten here. There had been no chance to ru
n, no excuse to flee. She’d waited for that moment when something would go wrong, when she’d have a reason to leave, but it had never come.
And so here she stood. Married.
She should mingle and greet her guests, but the feeling was still too strange.
Married.
Her brain felt as if it had slowed like honey in January. Married. Lady Duldon. Married.
And she wasn’t afraid, she wasn’t scared.
That was the strangest part of all of this. She’d expected to feel terror, terror and regret. And she didn’t.
But what did she feel? That’s where all of this became difficult.
“Have I told you that you look exceptionally beautiful this day?” Stephan said, walking to her side.
“It is the expected thing to say.” She tried to push away the warm tingles that formed in her belly at his words.
“That does not make it any the less true.” He brushed a finger across her cheek. The simplest of gestures, but it promised so much more.
“Louisa helped choose the dress. I do not know how she managed to have them finish it so quickly. I was afraid it would be too simple, but I rather think it suits me.” She gazed down at the simple teal creation. Only the smallest of ruffles marked the edge of the bodice, while deeper silver laces defined the lower curves of breasts, highlighting her waist. Another deep swath of lace spun about the hems, outlining the slight asymmetry of the top layer of fabric.
“I should tell you that the dress does not matter, but I think I may allow Louisa to choose all your clothing from now on. Although I do, of course, prefer you without any.”
She could feel the blush race up her cheeks and down to her…
“And I do love you in pearls. I am not sure that I’ve ever seen such a wonderful strand of them. They bring light to your skin and…”
“I don’t like them. They are part of my dowry, but I’ve never liked them. Sometimes I think that they feel like chains, so long and heavy.”
Stephan reached out and lifted the pearls without laying a finger upon her, the warm beads sliding up across the skin of her chest. “And what’s wrong with chains?”
Her breath caught. She looked up into his eyes and wondered if she’d ever breathe again, his words painting pictures in her mind, pictures that might all too soon be explored. “I’ve never liked being tied down. You know I like my freedom.” If only she sounded more convincing.
A slow, easy smile formed at the corners of his mouth. “But what if your choice is to embrace your bonds? It isn’t much of a set of choices if you aren’t allowed to do what you really want.” He lifted the pearls again, pulling them slightly, making her aware of the weight against her neck.
“We will not talk of this here.” She glanced about the room. Her father was laughing. Her younger sisters were all peering out into the gardens and giggling. Normally she would have felt compelled to keep them out of trouble, but not today. Swanston stood in a corner, occasionally glaring at Stephan. The friendship between Stephan and her brother had not been broken, but the strain was evident. It was impossible to understand why her brother had taken such a dislike to her marriage and she would dearly have loved to rap him on the head, but instead she just shook her head. Men. Even as she watched, Louisa walked up to Swanston and, leaning forward, whispered something. Her brother turned his head and stared at his wife before a slow smile took his face, a smile that was all too reminiscent of the one that Stephan sometimes gifted her with. It was still hard to understand how her stiff brother could come so alive when he looked at his wife.
“Are you drifting off into deep thoughts?” Stephan asked, pulling her back. “You have that look about you.”
“I was just wondering about Swanston and Louisa. I do not understand what goes on between them.”
A gentle pull on the pearls. “I would rather not think of them today. And I certainly do not wish to think of what goes on between them.”
“I didn’t mean…” But the image had been planted in her mind and she could not shake it. “No. Let us not think of them.”
“You know my aunt is taking credit for our match.”
“How…? I mean…She didn’t even take me to tea. In fact she warned me against you. It was only after Lady Perse rescued me at Madame Rouge’s that she even became willing to think of our marriage. I don’t see how she can…”
He chuckled. “That is what my aunt does best—and I am sure in her own mind she does believe that somehow she brought us together—or at least that she would have prevented our marriage if she had not deemed it suitable. She has always been partial to me and I confess I’ve been waiting for her to start parading sweet young virgins before me. Perhaps that is why I chose you. I could not bear to be subject to such a spectacle.”
Bliss held back the full description of her original conversation with Lady Perse. It did not matter now and she did not want to injure his relationship with his aunt. She did not think he would take well to knowing that Lady Perse had at one point forbidden their relationship. “And so you had to settle for one not-so-sweet, not-so-young virgin.”
“You certainly are young. You forget how many years I’ve waited for you to grow up. And I am quite confident that I know how to keep you sweet. As for the virginal, I must admit I did not think it mattered, but now I find it adding an extra something to my thoughts about this evening. Who knew that innocence could hold such attraction?”
She swallowed and hoped her cheeks had not grown too red, although she supposed a bride was meant to blush on her wedding day. “I should go and speak to my father. I have hardly had a chance to greet him all morning—and I’d best find out what his laughter is about. I do hope he is not planning on giving us a breeding pair as a wedding present. One never knows with the duke.”
“A breeding pair? Of llamas?”
“Or rabbits. Or kittens. Or Indian elephants. You truly never know with him.”
Stephan stared down at her, his face unreadable yet calm. “We will manage whatever comes.”
She blinked—and blinked again. Nobody ever reacted to her father with calm. Some laughed, some cried, some swore, and some turned up their noses, but nobody ever stayed calm. “Are you sure?”
“Very, but go talk to your father and make your reassurances. Despite what you might think, he is your father and I am sure that he worries. Although I admit that I would prefer kittens to elephants. And if by chance we were to end up with some of those greyhounds that I saw him with last summer that would actually be to my…pleasure.” He dropped the pearls that he still held and they landed with a soft sway against her skin, a thousand bolts of feeling spreading through her.
God, the man simply said the word “pleasure” and her knees trembled. “I will see what I can do. The duke does like to make people happy.”
“Good.” Stephan smiled warmly at her and more than her knees trembled. “And Bliss…”
She started to step away, but turned back. “Yes?”
“Be sure that you save your strength for later. Don’t let anyone, not your father or my aunt, tire you out. I want you to save all of your…your attention for later.”
His eyes traced her, from top to bottom, a physical touch.
Later. She shivered. Later. Desire and nerves curling together.
Despite all her wants, all her plans, she wasn’t sure—was she ready for her wedding night?
—
Duldon stared across the room as his wife slipped out of the room. His wife. Bliss was his wife. Bliss was finally his. He savored the thought. Bliss was his. He watched the gentle sway of her hips, the soft flow of silk skirts about long thin legs, legs he’d fantasized about for months—no, for years. So why were his hands suddenly clammy? He had dreamed of this, worked for it, planned for it. There was no reason for nerves now. And he was a man who rarely felt fear.
Only…
Bliss was out of sight and Duldon felt a slow breath leave his chest.
He had won the prize, but c
ould he keep her? Was he really ready to risk it all this night, to show her what he really wanted, who he really was? He’d given her hints of it before, rather large hints, but that was quite different than actually demonstrating.
And then he smiled to himself.
He’d spanked her.
He’d poured wax upon her.
And she relished it all and acted like she wanted more. Why was he so afraid that she’d back off now? She was Bliss, his Bliss. She’d probably ask for more. His whole body reacted to the thought, his balls pulling up and his cock hardening even more.
The only question now was how much longer did he have to wait to join her in her bedchamber?
—
No, she was not ready. Any doubts she had earlier in the day multiplied by a hundred, leaving her breathless and afraid.
Afraid. She played with the word in her mind. Was she afraid of Stephan?
It seemed a foolish idea. She had agreed to marry the man and she would never have agreed to marriage if she was afraid of him, would she?
The mirror in front of her reflected a woman who did not look afraid, a woman who looked like she knew all the secrets of the universe and was prepared to use them. Her blond locks lay brushed about her shoulders in soft waves, the wild curls for once smoothed by her maid’s endless brushing. Her lips were red from nibbling, making it look as if she’d been well-kissed before the evening had even begun. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as her nerves increased the pace of her breath. The fine linen of her white chemise revealed her tightly peaked nipples, the rosy flesh poking the fabric, eager to escape. If she stood even the slightly darker nest of hair between her thighs would be visible, so fine was the linen. In fact, there might be very little that was not clear to see.
She looked the wanton.
For months she’d been eager to try her womanly wiles, had put so much effort into exploring in all the ways she could.
