Lords of Retribution (Lords of Avalon series)

by Richards, K. R.

  Toasts to the newlywed couple and Charlie echoed throughout the room.

  Jack drew Tuesday close, his lips grazing her temple as he hugged her.

  Lord and Lady Stanbridge stood side by side, clearly honored that their son was so well remembered. Lady Stanbridge dabbed at her eyes with a lacy handkerchief.

  Lady Wednesday Inwood stepped back, away from the people gathered to participate in the toast. She was without a handkerchief. She removed her spectacles and wiped the tears from her cheeks with her fingers as inconspicuously as she could.

  “Do not cry, little dove.”

  She realized a very tall man had moved up beside her. Her eyes still being cast downward, a large hand come into her view. She accepted the offered handkerchief with a whispered “Thank you,” and looking up; she saw a familiar face framed by wild, golden hair, and eyes of the palest blue gazing at her. She smiled up at him. She should have known by the brogue who it was speaking to her.

  “Lord Gryfe, I did not know you were here. How are you? I heard you were wounded,” Wednesday then noted he leaned on a crutch. He wore his arm in a sling like Tristan Chynoweth.

  “I am much better, Lady Wednesday. Thank you for asking,” Lachlan Douglas, the Earl of Gryfe, smiled at her then turned his attention back to Trevan.

  “I still say, because I believe it, Charlie was the best of all of us!” Trevan held up his champagne glass again.

  “To Charlie, he was the very best of us!” Lachlan’s rich baritone voice rang out as he held up his glass.

  The crowd grew quiet. Many turned to see who had spoken with such a thick and un-Cornish brogue.

  Trevan grinned. He chuckled. “Lord Gryfe, you missed my wedding!”

  “I do not recall receiving an invitation, Your Grace,” Lachlan bellowed out in a brogue thicker than he normally used. His light blue eyes twinkled with mischief. “I came to help crush the Knights of the Brown Order.”

  “Well you’ve arrived on time for that. We’re still working at it,” Trevan nodded. He grew serious, “We are glad you have joined us once again, Lachlan. The wedding was something of an impromptu affair.”

  “I am happy to be back among you at last. Congratulations to you all. I wish you great joy.” Lachlan gave a small bow to the brides and grooms. He lifted his glass, took a sip of champagne then turned his head to smile down at Wednesday.

  Wednesday had forgotten what a devastatingly handsome man the Earl of Gryfe was. She returned his smile. She knew he was only being kind because she was Charlie’s sister. She did appreciate his gesture.

  “Lady Wednesday, if you do not mind walking slowly, would you please join me while I give my felicitations to the newlyweds?” Lachlan asked. He offered his arm to the pretty lady. He smiled when she rested her dainty hand upon his arm.

  “Thank you, Lord Gryfe. I would be happy to join you,” Wednesday offered, feeling much lighter in mood than she had a few minutes before.

  Lachlan had always liked Lady Wednesday. Though most thought her sister, now Lady Elveston, to be the beauty of the Inwood sisters, he had always preferred the personality of Lady Wednesday. She was serious and practical, true, but she had a fine wit and was so very genuine. He could never remember her being fussy or flirty as so many young girls were.

  Of course, now she was a young woman, he guessed her to be perhaps two and twenty, possibly older. Of medium height, she had lost the plumpness of her youth. Though her gray gown was modest, it was well fitting and more than hinted at her lovely, curvy figure. No doubt she was in gray tonight due to the fact she was in mourning for her brother.

  He liked a woman with generous hips and breasts. He guessed his hands could easily span her trim waist. Her hair was an interesting shade of burnished gold, not blonde and not brown, but a mixture of the two. It was her golden-brown eyes that drew him in. They were large, wise and all knowing, like that of the owl. Her brilliant eyes were framed by a thick fringe of dark brown lashes, and of course her spectacles. Her cheekbones were high and her chin stubborn, but that all added to her look of strength and wisdom. She reminded him of a goddess.

  Lachlan escorted Lady Wednesday to the group of newlyweds.

  All his comrades greeted him warmly. He inquired after the health of Micah, Tristan, Libby and Sophia, for he had learned the ladies and Tristan had suffered injuries the night Charlie had passed, as well as he. His own wounds had been serious. There had been talk initially of his leg being removed. He had forbid it to be done, and had worked hard to regain the use of his limb.

  Though he would be somewhat maimed for life, he felt fortunate to be alive. Charlie had given him that gift, for Percy Davitt was about finish him off by stabbing him in the chest when Charlie came upon him and took the knife meant for him.

  Had Lachlan not been so persistent and insisted on regaining his physical strength from the beginning, he might still be abed with his wounds. Vengeance for Charlie had kept him going.

  “Lachlan, last I heard you were slowly mending. We were not expecting to see you so soon. We’re glad you’ve come to join us!” Jack smiled at his colleague and extended his hand.

  “Mon ami, I knew you would defy the odds and come to us hale and whole once again!” Lucien Saintmaur, Lord Wyldhurst, laughed heartily as he clasped the hand of his good friend and comrade. He stopped when he noticed the very tall, well-built golden-haired female standing behind Lachlan and Wednesday. “Ah, who is this beautiful creature you have brought with you, mon ami?”

  “My brother is stubborn, and insisted upon pushing himself by walking daily to build up his strength. He would not rest until he made it to Cornwall to join you,” the lady spoke then added, “which is why I came along. He insists on behaving as if he is in perfect health and resists taking time to rest.”

  “This is my sister, Lady Alexandra.” He brought his sister to his other side, still having Lady Wednesday at his left, “And I assure you all, I am in perfect health.”

  “Alex,” Lady Alexandra corrected her brother.

  Lachlan frowned at her.

  “Lady Alexandra,” Lachlan reiterated.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Alexandra.” Luc gave her a bow. Her eyes were a darker blue than her brother’s were. Her hair was a mixture of copper and gold. She was tall for a woman, and quite nicely put together. Luc found her to be quite stunning.

  “The pleasure is mine, Lord Wyldhurst.”

  “Alexandra, this is Lady Wednesday, Charlie’s youngest sister,” Lachlan smiled as he indicated Wednesday on his other side.

  Wednesday and Alexandra greeted one another. Lachlan continued the introductions of his sister among his fellows and their wives.

  The large group talked amongst each other. When the music began a quarter of an hour later, Trevan, Gabriel and Jack escorted their brides to the dance floor for a waltz at one end of the long gallery.

  “Are you happy, Wen Pen?” Trevan whispered in her ear.

  “Very happy,” Wenna beamed up at him.

  “I was hoping we could retire to our chamber soon,” he whispered huskily as his lips grazed her ear.

  “Soon, but I should like another champagne or two,” Wenna said hopefully as she leaned closer to him. “I rather enjoy champagne.”

  “Absolutely, my Duchess, your wish is my command,” he grinned down at her. “You may have two.” He winked at her.

  Jack smiled at his lovely wife as they moved in tandem on the dance floor. “You look incredibly beautiful tonight, Trouble.”

  “Thank you, husband. You will still call me Trouble even now that we are married?” Tuesday asked him, a slight frown turning down the corners of her mouth.

  “I’ve told you before, you’re the best kind of Trouble. The kind I never want to be without,” Jack whispered then lowered his head and kissed his wife, quite thoroughly.

  Tuesday giggled when he lifted his head, “What will people think?”

  “That this bride and groom are happy and in love, and perhaps have ha
d too much champagne. I don’t care what people think. I am very happy to proclaim to the world that you are my wife. I love you Tuesday, and I’m not ashamed for anyone to know how I feel about you, sweeting!”

  “Oh, Jack, that was beautiful.” Tuesday’s eyes misted. “I love you too.”

  “I know you do.” He kissed her again. “No tears today, sweeting. In fact, there is a bottle of champagne waiting upstairs in our chamber. I was thinking perhaps we could go celebrate our wedding night in private soon.” With a wink, he offered her an irresistible and quite seductive grin.

  “That is a very good idea. I concur. Shall we make our way upstairs after this dance?”

  “Absolutely, Lady Elveston.”

  “You seem to be enjoying our special day, Zenny.” Gabriel smiled down at his wife as they danced. They had danced together a few times at some of the Assembly dances in St. Mabyn. She was graceful on her feet and danced beautifully.

  “I am enjoying everything about today,” Senny smiled at him.

  “As am I.”

  Senny tried to suppress a yawn.

  Gabriel reasoned the hour was growing late. There was much more for the two of them to do before retiring. “It has been a long day. Perhaps we should retire to our chamber,” Gabriel realized how husky his voice sounded.

  “Yes, that would be nice.” Senny smiled up at him. She was not afraid of what would take place between them in the marriage bed. She was just more curious now. She had been nervous before. The champagne she drank had relaxed her, just as her sister told her it would.

  “Let’s make our way upstairs then,” Gabriel, whispered huskily. He kept her hand in his as the music ended. They began making their way toward the grand staircase.

  “Good night, Aunt Morva,” Gabriel paused to kiss his aunt’s cheek.

  “Good night, both of you. Take yourselves upstairs. I’ve had a tray left for you.” Morva kissed each one of their cheeks and shooed them away. She smiled after them. Her smile widened a few minutes later as she noticed Jack and Tuesday mounting the stairs, hand in hand.

  “Good night, mother.” Trevan bent to kiss his mother’s cheek.

  “Good night, son and dear Wenna,” Morva’s eyes misted as she bid the new Duke and Duchess of Penrose goodnight with a kiss to each one of their cheeks. She watched them walk away for a moment then turned her attention back toward their guests.

  Gabriel poured two glasses of champagne. He handed one to his wife and sat down beside her on the settee in his chamber. He did not want to overwhelm her, but he was ready to get down to the business of consummating his marriage. He reminded himself he must use patience and self-control. At this moment, he was strung tight as a bow. He smiled at her. His wife was so beautiful. He took a sip of his champagne. He watched as Senny did the same then set her glass upon the table.

  She reached out, took his glass from his hand and placed it beside hers. She leaned into him, framed his face with her hands and kissed him.

  Gabriel opened to her. He drank from her sweet mouth ravenously. He allowed his hands to glide up and down her torso. His wife. How sweet those words sounded.

  Senny liked the feel of Gabriel’s hands skimming over her body. His touch was as light as a feather, but oh, the things it did to her. The warm sensations coursing through her caused her to shiver.

  “Are you cold?” Gabriel pulled back and asked her.

  “No,” Senny shook her head and smiled, “I am far from cold. It’s your touch. It makes me feel things, wonderful things. I like it.”

  Gabriel dipped his head to place soft kisses along his wife’s long, slender neck. “Since you have encouraged me so, I shall continue to make you feel good things,” he whispered against her ear.

  Senny was curious, for her hands began to explore his chest. Still they kissed and whispered endearments to one another. They continued that way for several minutes.

  “Does my touch affect you in the same way? Do you feel good things when I touch you?” Senny asked as her hands smoothed down his muscled chest to his abdomen.

  “The answer is a resounding yes, Zenny, love,” Gabriel said as his large hands skimmed down her sides and rested on her hips. He pulled her closer against him. He was hard as stone. He pressed into her. “And that, my lovely wife is proof of how much I want you and what your touch does to me.”

  “Oh! My touch did that to you?” she asked, her eyes widening.

  “Yes. You. Did. This. To. Me.” Gabriel breathed in between the kisses he placed along her collarbone and shoulder. He lifted his head and looked upon his wife. She was grinning from ear to ear. He smiled at her.

  “I would like to undress you, Zenny, love. May I?” He watched her expression closely for any signs she might become overwhelmed. An adorable blush crept into her cheeks. There was no sign of fear.

  She nodded and smiled at him. “Yes.”

  Her answer had been a breathless whisper. He kissed her again, his hands keeping busy with the fastenings of her gown. Impatient, he wanted to rip the gown from her, but he happened to know it was one of her favorites, so he gently unbuttoned and untied as calmly as he could. Soon the silk was off her upper torso and hung about her waist.

  Gabriel pulled back and feasted upon the site of her beautiful breasts straining against the almost transparent fabric of her chemise. He could not refrain from cupping one lovely breast, testing the weight in his hand.

  He continued to kiss her while he untied her chemise and pulled it down, baring her creamy, perfect, breasts. He allowed his finger to move over one pink nipple that hardened as he touched it.

  “You are so beautiful, Zenny,” he whispered as his hands moved upward over her bare shoulders and back down her arms. She blushed again and smiled up at him. He rose from the settee and held out both hands to her. “Come with me, Zenny.”

  Senny placed her hands in his. She was not frightened. Nervous perhaps. Yet she was eager to find out what coupling was all about. She had faith that with Gabriel the experience would be pleasant. Her sister had promised her it would be enjoyable.

  Gabriel pulled her to her feet. His fingers worked at her gown. It swished down and pooled around her feet. Shortly after, her chemise followed, wafting to land atop her wedding gown.

  She stood before her husband clad only in her stockings and slippers. She liked the look in Gabriel’s pale, crystalline eyes as he looked at her body. There was a gleam of approval and something else. Could it be desire?

  Gabriel reached out and gently lifted his wife into his arms. Being careful not to jar her wounded arm, he laid her reverently upon their bed, his bed. Candles and lamps flickered about the room, capturing the hint of red-gold in her hair.

  Senny reached out her hand to him, but he was already sliding away from her, down the bed toward her legs.

  He untied one garter. His fingers slid between the silk and the softness of her skin. As he slowly unrolled the stocking, his fingers skimmed along her satiny skin while his lips pressed against her thigh, then her knee, her calf, her ankle and her toes. Her slipper fell to the floor. There was a soft whisper as her stocking followed. He repeated the same action with her other leg. He looked up to see the golden curls covering her sex before he smiled at her. He longed to kiss her there. He reasoned that would have to wait for another time. He must take special care not to overwhelm her during this, her first time. He reminded himself she was an innocent.

  He placed several light, feathery kisses to her long, slender legs on his way back up. He paused at her belly, the valley between her breasts and the hollow of her throat, to allow his lips and tongue to worship her. After brushing his lips against her chin, he covered her mouth with his once again.

  Senny shivered with delight at the feel of his lips against her bare flesh. The feel of his fingers against her skin made her feel things she had never felt before, even when they kissed. The sensations washing over her were quite exciting. His hard muscled body was warm against hers.

  When Gabriel loo
ked into her eyes, Senny grasped the lapels of his coat and pushed them back impatiently as he kissed her deeply.

  Gabriel chuckled and shrugged out of his coat. His waistcoat followed. Senny helped him with his shirt.

  The way she looked at his bare chest would remain burned in Gabriel’s brain forever; he knew it would. She looked at him with such admiration, wonder and then approval as her hands slowly and gently caressed and explored.

  “You are beautiful, Gabriel,” she smiled as her hands lovingly moved over the muscles of his chest, raked through the dark hair, found the ridges in his abdomen then moved slowly upward again over his chest and to his shoulders.

  “You. Are. Beautiful. Zenny,” he said in between the soft, open-mouthed kisses he placed along the curve of her neck and across her shoulder. His lips moved lower, to her breast.

  His mouth brought wondrous pleasure to her. Senny moaned softly as he suckled her. She grasped his shoulders and arched her back, pressing herself against him. She knew only that she wanted to be closer to him. As his mouth moved to her other breast, her hands fisted in his golden hair. She arched up, pressing closer to his hard, muscled warmth.

  His hand moved fleetingly across her ribs, then over her flat stomach and down lower.

  Senny gasped as he found the place between her legs that already felt moist and warm. He began to massage her sensitive flesh with gentle, teasing strokes. The pleasure she felt was something she never could have imagined. Heat coursed through her body. Tightness began to knot in her abdomen as he continued to stroke her.

  Gabriel watched her expressions as he pleasured her. He whispered sweet and soothing words to her. He slipped his finger inside her and nearly groaned as he stroked inside her warm, wet sheath. She was so tight.

  Her hands tightened on his shoulders. “Gabriel, I-I something’s happening…” her words trailed off as she instinctively bucked against him.

  “Just give in to it, Zenny, love. Let it happen,” he whispered in her ear, his voice deep and thick with huskiness. “I wish to give you this pleasure.”