The Duke’s Improper Bride

by Paula, Rebecca

  “Miss?” Anne asked once more. “We really must go to meet the carriage.”

  “Yes, Anne.” She shook away her happy thoughts and stalked like a thief into the night.

  The carriage ride seemed as if it took years to arrive to the church. But walking down the aisle toward a smiling groom felt like mere seconds. Mrs. White brought a small bouquet of roses and thistle for Nora to carry. The woman placed the bouquet in her hands, then closed them, as Nora stood paralyzed at the top of the aisle.

  The church was nothing more than a small parish, just a few rows of pews, now lit with candles. It felt like a great vista to Nora, who could not remove her eyes from the man that stood before her, the man she would pledge her life to that very evening. He looked nothing like the painter she encountered during her morning hike. This man looked like a man one would find in a London ballroom. His black wool suit was tailored to every meticulous inch of his tall body. His shirt was pure white and starched. His normally unkempt hair looked as if it had been cut and was worn swept to the side. Any sign of a beard was shaven and his skin reflected a healthy pallor. She had always found Isaac to be handsome, more so than Stuart, but looking as he did now, smiling at her as if she were his very reason for living, she found him transcendent.

  Then she found herself standing in front of him, so nervous she felt as if she would crumble at the knees and lay in a heap at his feet.

  The priest joined their hands and, as if he understood, Isaac ran his thumb in comforting circles over her palm.

  She knew he would make her happy and she would have a good life with him, no matter where life may take them. She barely knew the man touching her now, but she suspected that they began to know each other that day when he first painted her. When he committed her wandering form to canvas, he captured her very soul with his eyes. When they kissed, well, it was nothing like the horrible awkward affair with Stuart. She wished her kisses with Isaac would never end. She felt…

  “I, Isaac, now take you, Nora, to be my wife.”

  Total elation.

  “In the presence of God and before these witnesses,” he said, sending a wink in Mrs. White’s direction behind Nora’s shoulder. Nora let out a small, nervous giggle until he winked at her next and she her heart skipped a beat. “I promise to be a loving, faithful and loyal husband to you, for as long as we both shall live.”

  For as long as we both shall live.

  The priest took out a ribbon to handfast the pair.

  Nora held up her hand to the priest. “Anne, the ribbon please.”

  Anne carried the ribbon forward. It was the very ribbon Nora carefully and elaborately embroidered for two years, knowing in her heart that she would be married one day, despite her mother’s constant fussing and putdowns. She covered every inch of that piece of linen with calculated stitches in every color.

  “My wedding p-present to you,” she whispered to Isaac as he studied her handiwork.

  “Thank you,” he mouthed.

  Happiness swelled in her chest as his smile spread, a sincere smile, one that was kind. One that made Nora feel as though she had found someone who finally understood.

  As though with another blink, Nora was married. Suddenly wrapped up in a carriage, the destination unknown. Her groom had sworn himself to secrecy but reassured her there would be a bed on their wedding night.

  A promise that made her blush as much as it made her want to kiss her husband again until they both starved for air.

  “Are you happy?” Isaac asked, stroking the top of her head. She rested against his chest for some time, letting this newfound bliss wash over her. The carriage rocked back and forth over the road, and Nora listened to the soft beat of his heart.

  Nora Jane MacAllen was married. She was a wife, and she had found a husband. Someone who had shown her kindness, if not love. He had said those words, and they had the same effect as if the sun came to wrap her in light and warmth. But there was much more to love than falling quickly. And Nora had never known it for herself.

  “Yes,” she said simply, gazing up at her husband. She kissed his chin and ran her fingers through his black hair.

  “Nora Jane Barnes, the Duchess of Ashbornham,” he said with a smile. His voice was husky, as if drunk in love with her.

  But that didn’t explain why hearing duchess sent her body into a panic. She smiled stiffly, then sat up, adjusting the blankets.

  “Are you sure you’re happy?”

  She forced a smile, grateful that lights appeared in the horizon. “We’ve arrived.”

  * * *

  Isaac led his new wife inside the idyllic country home a day’s journey outside of Inverness. The gas lamps brightened the grand foyer of Glennis Hall. Mrs. White had outdone herself, arranging the stay for him and his new bride for their wedding night. The house belonged to a friend of hers on holiday in France.

  “Mr. Barnes,” the butler said. “We’ve laid out dinner upstairs for you and your wife. After such a long day, I imagine you’re hungry.”

  Hungry was relative.

  Isaac was hungry for his wife, thirsty for the taste of her. His hands all but ached from wanting to touch her.

  “Thank you…”

  “Meadows, sir.”

  “Well, thank you, Meadows.”

  Isaac reached back for Nora who stood frozen admiring the massive murals sprawled across the walls. He gently squeezed her hand as they were led up the impressive staircase to a grand bedroom, a feast laid out, complete with bottles of champagne.

  “This is too much,” Nora said as soon as the door closed.

  “Marrying me, or dinner?”

  She laughed, shaking her head. “All of it. I f-feel as if I’m dreaming.”

  He walked closer, drinking in the sight of her in her simple wedding dress. “Can I wake you up?”

  Nora surprised him by grabbing the lapels of his evening jacket and dragging him close. “I suspect we have a long night ahead of us, so p-please.”

  They kissed for some time, not caring if dinner grew cold. Isaac couldn’t shake this new feeling, something akin to how he felt whenever he faced the barrel of a gun. Which was often. But these nerves, on his wedding night, clawed at him. He was equally happy as he was nervous.

  After dinner, Nora rose and sat in Isaac’s lap at the table, slowly unbuttoning his shirt as her lips followed over his skin. She was setting him on fire, his cock hard under her thighs. If this is what it was like to succumb to madness, then so be it. He laid his head back, a groan escaping as she sucked at the hollow of his throat.

  “Nora.”

  She sat up, smiling at him. “Yes, husband mine?”

  “First, say that again.”

  “What?”

  He raised his eyebrow, a smile lifting the corner of his mouth.

  “My handsome husband mine.”

  He wrapped his arms tightly around her, ducking in for a kiss before he pulled back. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

  “Will it get me into your bed?”

  “If you keep speaking like that, your pretty mouth certainly will.”

  She laughed, and climbed off his lap, unbuttoning a few buttons on her dress’s bodice revealing the tops of her breasts. “And this?”

  “You have my attention.”

  She smacked her lips, drawing his eyes to them. Heaven help him, he was going to do dirty, dirty things with her tonight, and though he should be mindful she may be new to this, he did not care one lick.

  There was a knock on the door, then a maid interrupted. “Madam, you requested me to draw a bath?”

  Nora winked at Isaac, then nodded to the maid.

  Isaac bit his finger, looking away as his wife accompanied the maid into the bathroom. Every inch of him was ready to pounce. Patience might be a virtue, but it was never a strength of his. Tonight was no different.

  After the maid left, Nora excused herself, instructing him to wait until she called for him. He eyed the door, seeing glimpses of her as t
he lamps were lowered to a soft golden glow. He shifted himself, his pants long past the point of being comfortable.

  “Come in,” Nora called at last.

  Isaac removed his suit jacket, then kicked off his shoes and socks. He halted in the doorway, hit with a wave of rose and jasmine, and the sight of his wife, naked, in the large copper tub.

  Lit candles were scattered around the tiled bathroom. The room was steamy and warm, a far cry from the cold stretch of the Scottish Highlands where they first met. And Nora sat in the water, flower buds floating around her as she smiled at him, her hair curly and pinned up.

  He remained there, struck by in the glorious sight of her, this powerful and beautiful woman. Somehow, she was his. Somehow, they were man and wife.

  The truth punched him straight in the stomach, leaving him breathless as she chuckled.

  “Are you g-going to join me?”

  He closed the door behind him as he shed his waist coat, tossing it to the floor. Isaac bent, sinking to his knees, and cupped Nora’s face between his hands. He drew her mouth to his with soft kisses, while panic and excitement warred in his chest. Nora deepened the kiss, opening his mouth with a gentle nudge of her tongue.

  If he were a dying man, the taste of her would be enough for his last meal.

  Nora reached out and tugged at his shirt, removing his shirt tails from his trousers. He laughed against her mouth, but this only spurred her on, and her hand dropped lower, falling momentarily to his waistband.

  “Yes,” he said. “Yes, please.”

  Her hands returned to their job of unbuttoning his shirt as they kissed. Lust wasn’t the right word; this was something else entirely. Whatever this feeling, he had never experienced it before. He had never been so consumed by a woman before. His hands ached to hold her, his mouth longed to taste her, and his cock, well, his cock was greedy as hell and wanted to bury itself deep inside her.

  She freed him of his shirt. It landed across the bathroom, almost knocking over a candle. They both chuckled as he stood and removed his trousers. But their laughter died when his hands gripped the waistband of his smalls.

  Nora met his eyes, her own suddenly lit with a want that mirrored his own.

  His heart drummed in his ears, nearly drowning out the thoughts circling in his mind.

  With a deep breath, he lowered his smalls and stood before his wife.

  She appraised him, her eyes sweeping over his body with such heat he was almost convinced she had caressed him with her hands. She reached her hand out for his, not saying a word, and drew him into the tub with her.

  * * *

  Nora sank into the water with Isaac opposite her, his long legs wrapped around hers, his knees poking out of the water.

  “Next time, I’ll be sure to procure a larger tub.”

  His smile faltered, but the desire in his eyes did not. It burned down to her belly, that gaze. She swallowed, reaching beside the tub for a cloth. “It’s been a long day.” She pushed herself forward until she stood on her knees before Isaac, and with a soft hum, she gently wiped the day from his face. Nora was careful as she stroked the side of his neck and swept the cloth over the breadth of his shoulders. He was tall and lean, but his shoulders gave away his secrets. She could feel the tension knotted there after years of burden.

  She froze as he reached out, brushing a hand over her breast.

  “Nora,” he whispered.

  Slowly, she looked up from his finger circling her nipple to meet his stare.

  “You’re so goddamn perfect. And I don’t want to…I want to be a good husband. I want you to know that you’re wanted and important. And I don’t want to ruin what we’ve found together.”

  Something within Nora cracked—her heart maybe—at his words, at the way her heart suddenly longed to know if she could safely call him home. It was too early, and this marriage had been hasty. And she barely knew her own heart, how was it expected to suddenly open to another fully without a deeper understanding?

  Even if she were, in that moment, wonderstruck for the man before her.

  And Nora didn’t trust it. Not completely.

  She tipped forward and kissed his chest. The tepid water sloshed against the sides of the bathtub, drawing her focus back to the basics—they were both naked, on their wedding night.

  “What are you thinking?” Isaac asked, drawing her face back to his.

  Nora smiled even as frustration mounted inside of her. Why must her mind always tie itself up in knots? Why was she suddenly afraid to speak?

  Nora didn’t know much about wedding nights, but she was under the impression that at the minimum she wouldn’t be at war with herself.

  “Nothing important.” She dipped the cloth back into the water, but Isaac caught her hand.

  “We don’t have to continue. We can stop here and enjoy a nice bath together.” When she didn’t answer, he continued. “Thank you, by the way. It was a lovely gesture.”

  “Hmm.” She scolded herself to speak up. Nora spent years keeping her thoughts to herself, but Isaac would want to hear them. Even if she had convinced herself no one would be interested. He was.

  And that’s partly why she had opened up to him.

  He was so kind and…

  Isaac leaned over and trailed a searing path of kisses down the length of her neck, robbing her not only of her thoughts but of her breath. How could he do that so easily?

  Nora stood, the water dripping down her body, but it might as well have been flames licking her flesh as Isaac sat back, studying every inch of her, his eyes heavy and lidded. She held out her hand, watching as he rose. He stepped out of the bath and extended his hand without a word, but no matter; his eyes said it all.

  Nora joined him, then stood on her toes to kiss him slowly, leaning into him to selfishly feel his body against hers. All of him. She ran her hands up his biceps, tipping her head back as he deepened the kiss, feeling the muscles in his arms and shoulders tense. He was sheer power beneath her fingertips, and it sent a hunger coursing through her body she didn’t understand.

  More, more.

  He took a few steps forward, not breaking their connection. Then another, and Nora’s hand snaked around his shoulders and gripped the nape of his neck, tugging gently. Isaac answered in a groan, pulling her tighter. Then her feet were off the floor and he carried her until the back of her knees hit the edge of the mattress.

  Nora smiled up at him, not caring if she looked the part of a harlot. Lust and want coursed through her and she desired her husband without reservation. She raised her arms above her head and wiggled her hips against the mattress as he stood between her knees.

  “Man of few words,” she whispered. She reached for Isaac’s hand, rough and warm skin, callused fingers. She drew his palm to her mouth and kissed it, letting go only to tug him down to cover her body.

  “Nora,” he said, his voice gruff. “Nora, I want this to be perfect.”

  She shook her head. “It already is. Come here.”

  Isaac lowered himself over her, his skin warm against hers. How she had craved this, how she had longed to have another person touch her and want her. The joy of it almost brought tears to her eyes, even as her heart skipped a beat when his cock pressed against her hips.

  They kissed for some time, slow and drugging kisses that quickly dissolved to heated, passionate movements. Isaac rolled the two of them over so Nora sat on top of him. Her hair cascaded around them both and she gazed down at him. He reached up and cradled one of her breasts in his hands before leaning up and drawing her nipple into his mouth. She whimpered, bucking her hips for more.

  Nora ran her hands down Isaac’s chest as he traced his fingers down her ribs, her rounded stomach, then lower until he parted the damp curls between her legs. It was completely scandalous and sinful, and so completely delicious.

  Her breath quickened as their eyes met and he continued stroking her, stoking a flame within her.

  “Isaac,” she panted. Nora closed her e
yes and tipped her head back to the ceiling as he continued, before he slipped a finger inside of her, stretching her. “My God.”

  And to think that she had believed coupling would be a quick act, void of feeling.

  He pressed his thumb against her, and then it was as if something within her unraveled, as if Isaac himself was tugging a string that drew out the most intense pleasure she had ever experienced in her life.

  The room seemed to dim for a moment, and Nora lost herself to this new feeling consuming her deep down to her bones. Isaac rolled them over once more, bracing himself above her, kissing her and drawing out sighs and whimpers.

  He leaned on one elbow, the other hand cupping the side of her face then he bent down and kissed her neck. “My sweet Nora,” he whispered against her ear. “Sweet, sweet Nora.”

  Her chest rose and fell quickly as she returned to earth. Isaac’s cock pressed against her entrance, and she reached down between them, carefully guiding him as he slowly pushed inside.

  They both sucked in a breath, almost in unison, until at last he was seated deep inside her.

  What new pleasure, what an odd and amazing feeling; half pleasure, half pain, and wholly consuming.

  Nora tipped her chin and drew his lips to hers, her hands reaching beneath his arms and back over his shoulders to draw him nearer. “Please.”

  He let out a low chuckle. “I don’t know…well, I promise this will be the first time of many, but I just don’t know how much longer I can wait.”

  She wasn’t entirely sure what he meant, but before she could guess, he moved his hips. Slowly, he built a steady rhythm that ate away the initial hurt. Nora craved more, that familiar feeling from earlier buzzing through her limbs.

  Each stroke drew out a moan from her.

  “Nora,” Isaac said, his voice breaking. “Dear God, how amazing you feel. I’m so close.”

  He quickened, thrusting harder until at last he threw his head back, tensing above and within her. For a moment, all was quiet, the air smelling of rose oil and sex and perfection and happiness.

  Slowly, he withdrew, trailing kisses over Nora’s face and neck. Isaac rolled over beside her, pulling her to him. He stroked her back as she rested. His chest, rising and falling like the stormy Talisker Bay.