“I don’t expect you to hang about my skirts, waiting on me, Your Grace. But I should like to have my husband around much more.”
“Enough with this Your Grace nonsense,” he grumbled and trailed his hand from her cheek down her arm and rested it upon her rear. The sweet give of flesh made his body pulse anew. “I am Alex, your husband, your lover,” he whispered the last word as he lowered his lips to hers.
“A-Alex,” she stuttered, forcing him to pause. “I must tell you—”
A rap at the door made him pause and consider his surroundings.
“Your Grace, is all well? Water is coming through the ceiling,” Hampton called through the door.
“Bloody hell.” He lifted his foot and stared at the puddle of water on the floor. “Damnation.” He released Emma and hurried over to turn off the taps. Glancing at her half clothed state, he cursed again and lifted her gown. “Hampton, go fetch help.” He waited until the sound of the butler’s footsteps had faded. “Go to your room and dress. I’ll have to get the maids up to empty the bath before it floods the entire house.”
Cheeks flushed, gaze lowered, she nodded and hurried out of the bathroom. Alex sighed and adjusted his trousers before stomping out into the hallway to wait for someone to help deal with the overflowing bath. Would he ever get to make love to his wife? Some Christmas this was.
Chapter Ten
Emma had never had such a tension-filled dinner, and that was saying something considering the early days of their marriage. Yet it was not a dinner filled with nerves or worry. It was anticipation.
Everything Alexander had said had made her feel sure his feelings towards her had changed and that perhaps he had not been entirely disgusted with her during their first few times together. Theirs had been a marriage borne of misunderstandings.
If only they had not nearly flooded the bathroom. She could not help but think that if she revealed all and they made love—properly, completely, with no fears—this could be the fresh start they needed and they’d finally understand one another.
Alexander eyed her over his wine glass with a smile. The dinner was beautiful, having intended to be for all their family, though Hannah had tried to save as much of the food as she could for the next day and save herself some cooking. The goose was far too big for the both of them, as would the turkey be but the cook refused to serve up cold meat for Christmas Day so the goose would be used for sandwiches in the evening.
The dark glimmer to her husband’s eyes sent a flurry of need, as deep and as thick as the snow into her stomach. Emma felt her cheeks heat. With the lamps and candlelight glinting off his hair, he looked like the archangel Gabriel. That was almost certainly a blasphemous thought, but it could not be helped. Her husband was indeed a most handsome man.
“Cease looking at me like that,” she scolded softly after dessert was brought out.
“Like what?” he asked innocently, spooning some Dariol pudding into his mouth.
A tiny fleck of it sat on his bottom lip and he dabbed it away with a napkin. Emma bit back a sigh. She wanted to lick it away and taste his lips again, to relish the almond and cherry flavour on them. The way he kissed her... If she had been a debutante, she would have swooned. As it was, she had been close. He made her knees tremble, her chest ache. He had never kissed her like that before—with so much passion and no inhibition.
Emma glanced at the footman standing by the table with leftovers on and thought better of mentioning that he looked as though he was undressing her with his eyes.
“You know very well what.”
He laughed and threw down his napkin. “You cannot blame me. It has been a long time.”
More heat surged into her cheeks and she clapped her hands to them. At least she knew he had not taken pleasure elsewhere. He must have been faithful this past year or else he would not be so desperate for her. Besides which, Alexander had never really been able to lie to her. They skirted around so much because neither of them had the ability to tell falsehoods.
But there was still one falsehood. She needed to tell him—had been about to tell him— about Geoffrey. Then the bath had flooded and she hadn’t had the chance. Now she greatly feared ruining the evening. Perhaps when she got him into her bed later, she would bring it up. Or even while they read and had a cocoa in the drawing room. The truth had to come out, not just because he intended to stay at Balmead more often, but because if they were to have a proper marriage, he had to know all the sordid details of her family and her half-brother. It was only fair.
They did retreat to the drawing room for drinks, though Alexander had a brandy while she sipped another glass of wine. She didn’t wish to drink too much but she certainly needed the liquid courage. The scent of wood smoke filled the room and the fire cast a beautiful glow. In the corner, the candles on their tree had been lit and all the lamps and other candles were still unlit with the exception of a few on the mantelpiece. The curtains were left drawn back to give them a marvellous view of the white scenery, highlighted by a half moon. It was, in her opinion, the perfect Christmas scene.
She glanced at the bottom of the tree and saw a few parcels had been left there too. They were crudely wrapped in brown paper and string.
“Presents?”
Alexander placed his brandy down and came to stand beside her as she paused in front of the tree. He put his hands to her arms and drew her against the solid strength of his chest. Emma closed her eyes and savoured it. She still wanted a child. But Alexander had already taken away so much of that emptiness that had filled her in their time apart. She had not realised it but she was missing her husband.
“I brought some of them back from France with me. I hope you like them. I’ll admit I’m not very knowledgeable when it comes to women but some of my friends advised me.”
“I am sure I will like anything you give me, but I feel terrible. I only have one gift for you.”
“I don’t need any gifts. I hope you’ll give me all I need this festive season.”
She turned in his arms and rested her head against his chest. Emma could not quite believe this was the man she had so feared seeing again. He seemed relaxed, happy, content, and she felt the same. So much time wasted... She shook her head.
“You will not give me anything?” he asked, a brow raised.
She smiled. “No, not at all. I just cannot believe how much time we wasted apart.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I believe it might have done us some good. Helped us mature a little. You have taken a lot on managing this estate and I learned much on my travels.”
“That’s very philosophical of you, Alexander, and I suppose you might be right.” She peeked over at the white dog sleeping in Alexander’s chair before letting her gaze linger on her husband’s features. His expressive eyes made her heart stutter. “Christmas is a time for fresh starts and forgiveness, is it not?”
He nodded and plucked at a curl of her hair to wrap it absently around his finger.
“Then shall we forgive ourselves and each other and make this a fresh start?”
“I should like that very much indeed.”
She stood on tiptoes and swept her lips over his. He kissed her back, firmly, briefly, before drawing back. “Will you not open a gift?”
“Now?”
“Yes, why not?”
“Any one in particular?”
“How about this one?” He bent and plucked up a small flat one.
Emma settled on the chaise and he came to sit by her as she drew open the string to reveal a small box and inside a heart-shaped locket. “Alexander, it’s beautiful.” She opened it to find their portraits in it, side by side. Tears stung her eyes. She had not realised until now how much she wanted this, how much she wanted them to be husband and wife in every sense of the word.
“You like it?”
She heard the uncertainty in his voice and cupped his face so she could press a kiss to his cheek. “I do, it’s wonderful. Will you put it on for me?”<
br />
He took the necklace and fastened it around her neck. “I was not sure if you would,” he admitted quietly. “It seemed a rather bold gift at the time and I had thought of keeping it to myself, but I’m glad I didn’t.”
“Me too.” She fingered the gold heart and pressed it to her chest. “I shall treasure it.” Feeling emboldened by his gift and his words, and even the risk he had taken buying such a gift when their marriage had been so uncertain, she took his hand. Emma let a smile tease her lips as she took in the sight of her handsome duke. His broad shoulders begged her to sweep her hands over them, that dip in his chin called to her fingers to play over it. She longed to kiss each inch of that jaw and run her fingers through his golden hair. “Will you not come and unwrap your gift?”
A crease appeared between his brow. “I thought you said I only had one, and I don’t see it here.”
“It’s not here.” She lowered her voice and prayed she didn’t seem a fool. “It is in my bedroom.”
Chapter Eleven
Alex swallowed as they stood outside her bedroom. This was it. She did mean for him to unwrap her, did she not? Or else he’d look a damned fool and be mightily disappointed when she led him into her room and handed him a present.
Relief still ran through him that she had liked his gift. He had picked it up in Paris and had the portraits put in it in London. At the time he had thought it might do good to remind her of to whom she was married, but he had tucked it away realising he had bitter motives behind the gift. However, after earlier, he knew he wanted to give it to her for the right reasons. A symbol of their... love? Perhaps. He half suspected if they had not been brought together by their families’ and societies’ expectations he might have fallen in love with her that first night. She had been radiantly beautiful but he had ignored that fact, being too laden down with expectations and duty.
Emma offered him a secretive smile and opened her bedroom door. With only the fire lit, the room was mostly cast in shadow. He regretted he wouldn’t see her properly but it added a romantic feel to it and if he had learned anything from the men of the Alpine Club, it was that women loved romance. Besides, he could always draw open the curtains in the morning and make love to her then.
He pressed the door shut with his foot and paused to take in the sight of her. He had been remembering her in her under-things all day, particularly during dinner. Alex had suffered for much of that meal but found himself enjoying her company very much. It seemed they had conquered everything with the exception of the bedroom. They were able to enjoy each other’s company and even talk quite openly. The marriage bed would be their true test.
His heart hammered and sweat pricked on the back of his neck. He fought the need to swipe a hand across his brow. Emma’s throat worked and he noted the flicker of apprehension in her gaze. Her bold move must have daunted her too, but she had shown great courage. Courage, he could well admire.
Inwardly he chided himself. Show him a mountain and he would climb it. Give him a beautiful, willing woman and he turned into a nervous whelp of a man.
“Come here,” he said huskily.
Emma stepped forwards and he took her into his arms. Her fingers looped about his neck and her lips immediately found his. Her eagerness made him smile and dampened some of the nerves. He took his time kissing her, learning the taste and feel of her mouth. Running his hands up and down her back, he couldn’t resist rocking into her, though her skirts gave him little relief. He needed to be pressed against that soft body.
She began to tug at his necktie and he released her body to help. The room was remarkably hot and he wanted to feel her fingers on him. Once he had flung that aside, he slipped off his jacket, all the while kissing her with clumsy, desperate kisses. Next came his waistcoat and then she started to work on his shirt. If he had any doubts about her lack of experience with men, they were now erased. Her fingers were awkward and she struggled to undo the small buttons. There was no chance she was practiced at this.
Spreading apart his shirt, she laid her hands on his chest and he hissed. Her eyes widened and she went to draw them away but he captured her hands with his own. “Don’t,” he begged. He needed her touch so badly.
She used her hands to smooth across his chest and down his stomach, tracing him with fascination. Desire and gratitude mingled in his gut. She had no lover. She only had him. He would be her lover. Properly, truly. Nothing could hold them back now.
Except that she was frittering away his money. But he would deal with that later. A few misspent pennies were hardly on par with having a secret lover.
He drew out his shirt from his trousers and undid his cufflinks before she helped him remove his shirt. Her parted lips and shining eyes were almost the undoing of him. Emma looked at him as though he was the only man in the world. It humbled him.
Wrapping her in his arms, he drew her close and her lips tickled a trail across his chest. Her floral fragrance surrounded him and he drew it in. How had he gone so long without her?
“You taste salty,” she murmured. “I like it.”
He groaned. Did she have any idea what she was doing to him? In that gown, probably not. He needed to get it off her as fast as possible so she could know.
Thrusting her back, he turned her, making her squeal. Before, he might have worried he’d frightened her or he had done something wrong, but the molten lust in his veins dampened any doubts and when he pressed his mouth to the back of her neck and felt an almost imperceptible shudder and heard her gasps, he knew nothing could be wrong between them.
Alex set to work on her complex gown, his mouth pressing against the top of her neck. He let his lips linger there while he finished undoing her dress. Leaving it on her hips, he began to unlace her corset, feeling more confident now he had dealt with this contraption several times.
With that loose, he pushed down her undergarments to reveal one soft shoulder. Her skin was cast in golden perfection with the light of the fire dancing over it. He kissed a path along it to her neck, revelling in the way she tilted her head to give him better access.
Emma began to wriggle impatiently, and he realised she was trying to free herself from her gown. Apparently, he was not the only impatient one. He helped her remove it and heard her relieved, “Oh yes,” that made him smile.
Her bottom pressed against her drawers, the firm outline visible against the cotton. He smoothed both palms down them and cupped her rear, drawing a startled gasp from her. He could become quite obsessed with that beautiful rear, he decided, taking the time to squeeze lightly. Then he shifted his hands around to her hips to press her against him.
She moaned. His quiet, innocent wife moaned at the feeling of his cock pressed against her bottom. Lord almighty, what had he been thinking running away when he could have been enjoying this?
He ran his hands up her body to cup her breasts and chuckled when he found her hands tugging at her corset. He took pity on her and helped her draw it off. Now only a thin layer of cotton sat between him and his prize.
That warm, supple body pressed into him as he explored every part of her with his fingers. He found she liked her nipples gently plucked and teased, and when he dipped his hands lower and slipped them under her drawers, she rocked into his erection.
Alex found her hot and wet for him. He didn’t remember her being like this at all on their first night together or even the nights after. She had been stiff and quiet. Now she was moaning and gasping and rolling her hips. He let his finger skim between her folds several times, finding a spot that made her shudder and loll her head back against him.
Then he tried rubbing in circles while kissing her neck and she jerked against him and ground into his finger. “Oh, Alexander, that feels so good...”
Well, at least he knew he was doing it right. He continued, savouring each breathy cry, changing the motion with each of her reactions until it seemed everything he did created pleasure. She brought her hands up to clutch his upper arms and dug her nails into hi
m but she would have to tear him to pieces before he stopped. He was determined. She was the mountain and he would conquer her.
It happened suddenly. Her whole body went stiff against his and then gave way. A great cracking sound thundered through the room while she trembled and released a long breath. Before Alex had a chance to register what the noise was, a great deluge of snow and plaster swamped the bedroom. Emma screamed as he dragged her back and twisted to cover her body. They slammed to the floor and he turned his head to view the damage. Dust and snow swirled in the air and a cold breeze blew through the room.
Emma lifted her head, looking dazed. “What...?”
Alex pressed away from her and drew her to her feet. “Bloody hell, the roof just collapsed.”
She peered around him, clutched his arm and surveyed the mess. It had missed her bed and hadn’t even reached near where they had been standing but it was a good amount of roof that had come down. He stepped forwards, forcing Emma to release his arm, and peered at the whole in the ceiling.
“There must have been snow in the attic. There’s a hole in the roof, I suspect. The weight was too much.”
“Alexander, be careful.”
Snow and fragments of ceiling caked her dressing table and the carpet. He shoved the larger pieces aside to have another look. The hole itself was not huge but would take a bit of work to fix.
“Damnation.” He turned and eyed her barely clothed state. Picking up her robe and shaking it off, he chucked it to her. The servants would no doubt be along after hearing that racket and he would not have them seeing her half-dressed.
Frustration burned through him. Would he ever get to bed his wife? It was beginning to look very unlikely.
A Lady’s Christmas Rake Page 20
