Miss Amelia Lands a Duke (The Caversham Chronicles)

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Miss Amelia Lands a Duke (The Caversham Chronicles) Page 8

by Sandy Raven


  She gave a little mewling cry that told him she enjoyed his touch. “Have you, Amelia? Have you pleasured yourself before?” She nodded. “Say it. Tell me ‘Yes, I have touched and pleasured myself.’”

  When she did, he smiled. Her admission pleased him immensely for some reason. “Good.” He stroked her gently, adding another finger and spreading her juices over her clitoris so his finger could slide easily. “When was the last time?”

  She moaned as he pleasured her. When it was obvious to him she would not answer, he stopped. “When, Amelia?” Her eyes were squeezed shut and her lower lip was between her teeth. “When?” Cav pushed for a reply only because he wanted to know if she had any idea of what to expect when she climaxed.

  “Last night.” The reply came on a breathless plea for more of his ministrations.

  “After I kissed you.” Cav began to stroke again, this time inserting one, then two fingers into her tight sheath. He drew more of her juices forth and leaned into her and kissed her again, parting her lips with his tongue. She was innocent yet bold, untried yet knowledgeable of her body. “I pleasured myself as well. The entire time I dreamed of this. With you.”

  He kissed her again and began trailing a line of tiny little nibbling kisses down the column of her neck. Farther down he went and after suckling each nipple for a moment, he licked and kissed his way lower still, stopping only when he smelled her musk. It had been so long. Too long. He was so hard, so ready, but he’d told her before the night was through she would say yes. He wouldn’t become a rutting boar now.

  He parted her with his fingers, exposing her tight little bud for his kiss. His tongue reached out and with his first stroke she bit back a cry. Then inhaled a shaky breath. “Cav, no!”

  Without lifting his head, he pressed his palm over her womb to keep her in place. “Oh, yes.”

  Her scent and taste intoxicated him and as he made love to her with his mouth, he inserted his fingers again to prepare her for his invasion. Within minutes he felt her inner walls tighten and her entire body tense. The low moan he’d heard became a soft keening cry as she reached for him and caught hold of his hair. A flood of liquid drenched his hand and he slid over her, placing his cock at her entrance. “Remember what I said about some discomfort?”

  She nodded, catching her lip between her teeth

  “It cannot be helped.” He pushed into her partially, awaiting her reaction. She moaned. God help him he didn’t want to hurt her. She took a deep breath and began to relax under him.

  “That wasn’t so bad,” she said, giving him a slight smile.

  “We’re nowhere near done, love.”

  “Oh.”

  He pushed a little deeper. He could tell she was uncomfortable, but still she said, “That’s…nice.” Her breathing began to get shallow and he knew he had to go the rest of the way now. He seated himself fully and held still a while for her to acclimate to him. His baser side wanted to rush to the finish, now, and bring her with him. But he had to force himself to be patient, to initiate his new lover gently. He kissed her temple and her cheeks before taking her lips and sharing the taste of her.

  When he heard that deep breath and felt her body easing under him, he began to move. It wasn’t long before Cav felt Amelia moving with him, racing with him to reach that pinnacle he sought with each thrust. His body took over and set the rhythm for their passion. Instinctively, her legs wrapped around his giving him deeper access and she sighed as he thrust deeper and deeper.

  Her sighs soon became panting as she began to tense beneath him. Her sheath tightened around him with a rhythm that was soon to send him over the edge toward his own orgasm. With a Herculean effort he didn’t think himself capable of, Cav forced himself to hold back. He wanted to see the wonder in her eyes as Amelia experienced her climax. He opened his eyes and gazed down on her, watching as she cried out for him, arching upward. And with several final deep thrusts, his body gave her his seed.

  Amelia felt herself shatter, leaving her breathless and without the strength to lift even a finger. She’d been so thoroughly loved that she couldn’t move. And even if she could, she knew there was no place else she wanted to be than in Cav’s arms. Not right now, not ever. As her body still trembled inside from the intensity of their lovemaking, Cav kissed her temple, then collapsed on top of her. Amelia said a quick prayer that he hadn’t died from the exertion. Why, she’d just found the man she wanted for the rest of her life, he’d better not die on her!

  Rather than speak his name, she kissed his cheek, slid her hands down his sides, and rested them on his lower back. He lifted his head and smiled at her, his straight teeth barely showing under parted lips.

  This was what she would miss out on if she never married, and she couldn’t see not sharing this with Cav. She’d heard stories of younger women than she—her own aunt one of them—marrying men much older than Cav, and having to tolerate unpleasant, sometimes even painful, marital relations. And she felt sorry for those women. Truly, she did, because every woman should have a lover as kind and gentle as this man. One who took the time to prepare his wife for what was to come.

  Her lover rolled off her, taking her with him. She leaned into him, relishing the feel of their heated, sweat-slickened bodies. When she shivered, Cav reached down and lifted the covers over them both. “Better?”

  “Mmm.” She wanted to tell him everything was wonderful, spectacular, and she couldn’t believe a man such as he wanted to marry someone such as she. But she didn’t. A part of her was afraid that Cav might realize he could do better and change his mind.

  “How do you feel?”

  “For a woman who woke up this morning thinking the world was about to end for her, I feel remarkably…perfect.”

  “How was the world about to end?”

  “Remember, I went to bed thinking my aunt would have me forcibly evicted from the property for having bewitched you.” She gave Cav a sheepish sideways glance. “She wanted you for her own, you know. I was fully prepared to pack my dresses in my bag and go to the workhouse for women that she was always threatening to send me to.”

  “What a miserable woman,” he muttered. “How did you tolerate her?”

  Amelia moved to sit beside him, wincing at the soreness between her legs as she rose onto her knees and wrapped the sheet around her. “Please, I beg you, let us leave Aunt Katherine out of the discussion.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, memories of rejection welling up. She really didn’t want to say that she had no other family that wanted her. Even though it was the truth.

  “What kind of relationship do you have with your paternal family? Did you write them to notify them of your father’s passing?”

  She took a breath and dove in to her explanations. He needed to know of her lack of familial relationship with her other kin. “Yes, I sent three letters, one to each uncle, informing them of my father’s death, and the cause. In each letter, I advised that I was now alone with no husband, no prospects for a spouse, and no employment. I asked if they might be willing to write me a letter of recommendation that might give me entree into gainful employment commensurate with my station and education. I specifically did not ask for a hand-out, or a position in their home. I can take care of myself, given the opportunity.”

  “Have you ever met them? Your uncles?”

  She thought back to the only clear memory she had of one uncle. “Well, I remember meeting one, an Uncle Thomas, I believe. I recall that he was the next oldest male to my father. This was many years ago, and after that, never again. My father never spoke of his family. I think it was a painful subject for him. I overheard him and Mama speaking when I was very young, and I think his family did not approve of their marriage and cut off all support. Papa and Mama were very young when they met, he seventeen and she fifteen. I was born shortly after they wed.

  “He was supposed to go to university, but never did. My maternal grandfather was the vicar of a small parish, but he also was a book-binder. Father ap
prenticed with him because he now had a family to care for, and grandfather’s sight was failing. We lived with my grandparents until their deaths. Being a vicar, we had to leave the cottage when grandfather died so the new vicar might have a home. By this time Papa had opened a shop in Elmbridge. We lived above—my parents, my brother and grandmother.”

  Amelia closed her eyes as she remembered her grandmother’s passing, then her mother’s. Tears began to well and she wiped them away before they spilled over. “Harry wanted to study medicine and Papa made sure that he could. Only Papa was not telling anyone that his own eyesight was beginning to fail. The physician prescribed spectacles and they worked for a while but his vision continued to deteriorate. He needed my help for some of the finer details.”

  “Is that why you never married? So that you could help your father pay for your brother’s education?”

  Amelia nodded.

  “Did any of your uncles acknowledge your letter?” His line of questioning was reasonable for someone who didn’t know the woman he was about to wed, but it was his tone that was beginning to bother her. It was accusatory.

  Was she perhaps not reading him correctly? Perhaps that tone wasn’t aimed at her, but rather her father’s family. He likely knew them. After all, she had one very notable uncle—one of the most notable personages in the country—though she’d never met him.

  “Never. And Aunt Katherine said she was soon to come out of mourning for her husband. She wanted to return to her circle of friends in town and resume her previous activities. She thought a companion would lend her the air of respectable sophistication needed to land you as her next quar… I mean husband. She does tend to like them older.”

  “I’m not that much older than she,” he said, and Amelia realized she’d offended him. Before she could apologize, he added, “A year or two at most.”

  Amelia just gave him a knowing little smile. Yes, she knew he was older, but when she was with him, he didn’t behave as the stodgy old men she knew. Cav wasn’t like them at all. Of course, she didn’t know what he was like while dealing with his business and political affairs. She’d only read about him in the papers on the rare occasion. From what she recalled, her future husband was a ruthless Member of Parliament, very conservative, yet compassionate to those less fortunate.

  “Aunt Katherine is forty-one years old, and was born several years after my mother. Each of her marriages was to a man above her station, either in title or wealth, and you happened to have both. That’s why you were her target for husband number three.”

  The sole candle in the room sputtered and went out just as Amelia began to yawn. Her future husband patted the mattress next to him, holding his arm up for her to lie on his chest. When she was nestled against him, she thought again about how truly lucky she was that he chose to marry her. She wanted to twirl around in circles and giggle aloud because she, Amelia Caroline Elizabeth, was soon to be a duchess.

  Cav’s slow and steady heartbeat beneath her cheek and his relaxed, deep breathing were a comfort to her. Suddenly a wave of emotion washed over her as the impact of what she was about to do hit her. She was about to marry a man so far above her that it was sure to get the gossips’ tongues wagging. She was about to be the thrust front and center into a world that was completely unfamiliar to her. And when she realized there was no way out of it for her, she could no longer contain those tears.

  Gentleman that he was, her husband-to-be stroked her back and let her have her upset. When she was done, he pulled her a little closer and kissed the top of her head. “So, is it a yes, then?”

  She was slowly falling in and out of slumber and wasn’t prepared to reply to a question when she didn’t know what the question was. And she was far too tired to get into another lengthy discussion regarding her family. Amelia mumbled something akin to she would tell him in the morning, though she wasn’t sure that was what actually came out.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Cav’s future wife rested against him as their coach rolled into London proper. Amelia had been napping off and on for the last two hours, while Cav read over some important paperwork regarding his business ventures. Before that?

  A slow smile spread on his face. He’d introduced her to lovemaking in the carriage by bringing her to straddle his lap, dropping the front of his breeches and entering her through the slit in her drawers. Only after he saw to her pleasure, bringing her to the first of two orgasms, did he give her his.

  He’d been so content in the monotonous sexual relationships with his mistresses over the years that he’d forgotten the joy that could be had in making love with someone you genuinely, deeply cared for. And Cav already cared for Amelia more than was logical. He’d met her less than a week earlier and without a doubt, he was falling in love with her.

  Now, as she stirred, he took the opportunity to let her know what was about to happen. He didn’t want the events of the next few weeks to come unexpectedly and overwhelm her. His lifestyle, while not as ostentatious as others of the nobility, was far different from the one she’d experienced. He wanted to prepare and protect the lady who was to be his wife.

  “When we arrive at my home, we shall enter from the rear of the property as you do not have a proper chaperon yet. I have made arrangements for one, though it may take her a day or two to arrive from the country.” She gave him an inquisitive look, but he wasn’t ready to answer her just yet. He’d rather she meet the woman he’d asked to have brought to town first. There was the off-chance that she might not get along with her, but he doubted it. Though her grandmother had a strong personality, the woman would be delighted to have a grandchild from the son she’d lost contact with so many years ago.

  “If she does not take you to her home in Hanover Square, you will remain here and we will find someone else to be your accompanier. Until she arrives or you have a proper lady to chaperon you, you cannot leave the house, I am sorry.” Her look of bewilderment made him want to smile, but her reputation was his to protect now.

  “I will have some things quietly moved to my son’s apartments. I can reside with him for a short time.”

  “Why do I need a chaperon, Your Grace?” Her gray-green eyes sparkled with amusement. They were sure to radiate emerald and golden hues given the right color clothing. Black and gray did absolutely nothing for her natural skin tones and expressive eyes. “I’m a veritable spinster, well beyond the age of majority.”

  He gave her a cocked brow. “It’s to protect you from the gossips. You are about to enter a world unlike that of your small village in Surrey. People are not as kind as they would have you think.” Kissing the top of her head, he added, “Believe me, my sweet, it’s for your own good.” He went on to explain his plans. “We shall post the banns as soon as possible. I’d like to marry at our seat, Haldenwood. It is where my family has lived for centuries.”

  She wrinkled her adorable nose, but was it at his words or at the odors of a hot, muggy city beginning to suffuse the carriage?

  “I spend as much time out of London as possible in the summer,” Cav assured her. “After we settle a few things and I handle a few business matters, we can leave for the country. Hopefully as soon as next week. The first thing we do for you when we arrive is to find out who the current, fashionable modiste is for ladies. You will need to spend time getting fitted by someone who can outfit you as befits my duchess.”

  “It’s been almost six and a half months that I have worn black. While I did keep a few of my old dresses, they are at my aunt’s home.”

  “I can afford to get you an entirely new wardrobe, you know.” He wanted to see her properly attired. Not because his duchess was required to dress like one, but because he wanted the pleasure of giving Amelia things that would delight her as her delight was fast becoming his own.

  Amelia laid her cheek on his breast and her warmth soaked through the layers of fabric he wore. She was tempting and innocent, beautiful and strong. “I know.”

  “You never did say yes,” Cav
whispered into the curls piled atop her head. It bothered him that she hadn’t.

  “You have never asked me. You’ve said we will do this, go here, and marry in this time.” She lifted her head to look him in eye and he realized she was right. “Not once did you ask me. You kissed me senseless in the Merivale’s library and made love to me as if you thought I would leave you if you closed your eyes. But, Your Grace, if you want me to answer a question, you must first ask the question.”

  He stared out the carriage window, beginning to recognize the streets, and knew they’d be at Caversham House soon. Did he ask her here, now, in the carriage? Or this evening at dinner?

  Cav thought it would be the height of cruelty to make her wait.

  “Do I not deserve to be asked? Or am I booty claimed and taken?” Cav heard the hurt in her voice. It layered under that teasing tone she attempted. He wanted to tell her, to change that sadness to the joy she should be experiencing at this momentous time in a young lady’s life.

  He scooted away from her and placed his papers on the opposite seat. Pushing his boots aside with his stockinged feet, he knelt on the floor of the carriage as it rolled through London’s traffic at a snail’s pace.

  He grasped her hands together in his and looked up at her—all peachy complected, with her intriguing, expressive eyes and dark blond curls that escaped the pins during their lovemaking earlier. She’d touched his heart from the moment they met in ways he hadn’t experienced since before Lizzie died. Though she was young compared to him, she had a spirit that was sensible and settled and it beckoned him to come rest a while with her.

  “Please, Amelia Caroline Elizabeth Manners-Sutton, will you do me the greatest honor in the world and marry me? I know I am not a young man that we will have many years ahead, but the years I offer you will be happy ones. For not one day will pass that I will not cherish you. I will make it my highest priority to make you smile daily, and to give you all my heart. I also promise to care for you and any children we shall conceive for all your days.”

 

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