A Scandalous Portrait: Rose Room Rogues ~ Book One

by Hutton, Callie

  Why she worried about comments and snide remarks was surprising. She’d been dealing with them most of her life. Stunned to feel tears rimming her eyes, she turned her head so Hunt wouldn’t notice.

  Of course he did.

  “Ah, honey, come on. It won’t be that bad.” He reached for her again and, before she could protest, his mouth covered hers. After a few seconds, her thoughts fled, and she settled into his embrace.

  He nudged her tongue, and she opened to him, allowing him to muddle her brain further. Her body reacted just as she’d learned every time Hunt kissed her. Her nipples tingled, and the area between her legs grew moist.

  Before she even realized it, he had loosened the back of her gown and had slipped his hand into her corset to fondle her breast. He pulled back and covered her jaw and neck with tiny kisses. “I don’t see why we have to wait for the wedding.”

  She was quite sure she knew to what he was referring, especially given the hardness she felt against her lower abdomen. Hunt was ready to anticipate their vows. Truth be told, so was she, but she suddenly remembered they were standing in her drawing room with an unlocked door.

  Good grief, an open unlocked door.

  Even though she no longer employed a chaperone, any one of the servants could wander by. She shoved him back and pulled up the bodice of her gown. “Hunt, anyone can come in.” She barely got the words out, unable to get a full breath.

  Hunt ran his fingers through his hair, apparently having a problem breathing also. He grabbed her shoulders and spun her around, quickly lacing up the back of her gown.

  Once she was put back together, she hurried to the wall and tugged on the bell pull. “I will order tea.”

  He walked in the opposite direction. “I could use a brandy.”

  Two nights later, Diana held onto Hunt’s arm as they descended the stairs at the Brentford ball. This one celebrated the come-out of the last of their eight daughters, all who had successfully married and were producing offspring at an alarming rate.

  Needless to say, Lord and Lady Brentford appeared a tad desperate.

  Lucky for them, however, Lady Alice was a pretty and charming young lady. She’d already attracted a good deal of male attention, but rumor had it she was holding out for a love match. Diana had the feeling if she didn’t choose someone by the end of the Season, her father would choose for her.

  As usual, she and Hunt attracted attention when they stepped onto the ballroom floor. The room was already filled, with little space to move around and even less to dance.

  Diana had to give the Brentfords credit since they had done up the ballroom as splendidly as anyone presenting their first daughter. Flowers filled the room with a lovely scent and footmen were busy carrying trays of champagne.

  The refreshment table was loaded with sweet and savory treats as well as the requisite ratafia, warm lemonade, and punch.

  “Why is he not in jail?” Diana nodded toward Lord Melrose as he made his way through the crowd, obviously headed in their direction.

  “These things take time,” Hunt murmured as Melrose grew closer.

  “Good evening, Hunt, Lady Diana.” The man bowed to her and slapped Hunt on the back.

  “I’ve been wanting to thank you for arranging for your brothers to extend me further credit.” Melrose took time to leer at Diana.

  Hunt glared at him. “’Twas no trouble. I hope you made good use of the extension.” He grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing footman and handed one to Diana.

  “Well, it seems I’m somewhat in the hole again.” Melrose cleared his throat and fiddled with his cravat. “I don’t suppose you can speak with them again?”

  Knowing Melrose was headed for prison or worse, Hunt had no intention of sticking his brothers—and himself—with additional credits they would never redeem.

  “Sorry, old man, but my brothers were tough enough with my last request, so I don’t think it would do much good.”

  Melrose nodded. “I understand. I just know one or more times at the card tables will turn my luck around.”

  Gamblers always thought the same thing.

  Since there didn’t seem to be any response to that because Hunt had already told him no, he remained silent. Melrose chatted a bit more and then wandered off.

  “Remind me again why he isn’t in jail,” Diana murmured as they walked toward the edge of the ballroom to stroll.

  Hunt was unable to respond since Diana was inundated with requests for dances and Hunt was equally surrounded by eyelash batting young ladies waving their dance cards.

  Didn’t anyone acknowledge that they were betrothed?

  * * *

  Hunt stood alongside Driscoll at the front of the small church he and Diana had chosen to marry in, instead of one of the larger and better-known ones. With the small group expected to attend, it wouldn’t look quite so forlorn for his bride.

  His bride.

  He still couldn’t believe he was marrying Lady Diana Pemberton. Had someone told him that a mere six months ago, he would have laughed himself silly. And then headed out of town.

  It had been her idea to have a small ceremony. Also, she would have been happy to only include the few in the church to the wedding breakfast. Despite her argument against it, he knew tongues would continue to wag if they didn’t have the lavish wedding breakfast to show the world that Diana was not in the family way, which was among the rumors that had made it to his ears. It was also important for him and Diana to present the picture of a glowingly happy couple not being forced into this marriage.

  “Stop fidgeting, Hunt. She’ll be here. All brides are late,” Driscoll said as he straightened Hunt’s cravat.

  Hunt slapped his brother’s hand away. “I’m not worried. And I don’t fidget.”

  Raised eyebrows was Driscoll’s only response. Turning serious, he said, “Are you sure you want to do this, Hunt?”

  Hunt scowled. “Don’t even think to start that conversation. I am quite happy with my choice of a wife. I might not have anticipated marriage to Diana, but the more I think about it, the smarter my decision seems to be.”

  “Hardly your decision,” Driscoll said as he nodded toward the back of the church. “It appears your bride has arrived.”

  Diana stood at the back of the church in a white satin gown, that being the chosen color of most brides the last few years. Quite fashionable in style, the sleeves reached her hands, a row of pearls down the center of each sleeve.

  The fabric had been pulled back, outlining her stomach and clinging nicely, but modestly, to her breasts. She carried a bouquet of some sort of pink flowers. A white veil that hung almost to the floor covered her head, with a ring of small roses anchoring it to her crown.

  Hunt’s mouth dried up, and he had one thought, only.

  They should skip the wedding breakfast and go right to bed after they chased away the few guests from the church. She raised her head and looked down the aisle. Their eyes met, and Hunt’s heartbeat sped up.

  “Pull yourself together, man. You’re drooling.” Driscoll spoke from the side of his mouth.

  Hunt straightened and scowled at his brother. “I am not drooling.”

  She made her way down the aisle on her father’s arm. Hunt had met the man for the first time only two days before. Not very impressed with the man, or how he allowed Diana’s grandmama to simply whisk her away from him years ago with very little contact over the years, he found it hard to be more than just polite.

  Hunt reached out and took her hand when she joined him. “You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you. I don’t mind telling you I am quite nervous.” She took a deep breath, bringing Hunt’s eyes right to her breasts.

  “Nothing to be worried about, darling. Just another step in life.”

  She smirked. “More like a leap if you ask me.”

  The vicar cleared his throat, obviously warning them he was ready to start the ceremony. They turned to him and he began.

  “Dearl
y beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this Congregation, to join together this man and this woman in holy Matrimony; which is an honorable estate, instituted of God in the time of man's innocency—"

  Hunt’s mind wandered, and he spent his time during the very lengthy introduction to the ceremony thinking about what he was doing. Marriage was forever. Whether Diana turned out to be his perfect mate, or the worst woman he could have ever chosen, it didn’t matter.

  She was his and would always be his.

  He glanced over at her. She seemed to be listening to every word the vicar said. Was she changing her mind? Deciding she didn’t want to ‘love, honor and obey’? He almost laughed at the ‘obey’ part. Diana would never obey him. Certainly not like one of the sweet young debutantes he’d first thought would be his choice. He shuddered thinking about standing here with Lady Eunice alongside him.

  “I require and charge you both, as ye will answer at the dreadful day of judgement when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if either of you know any impediment, why ye may not be lawfully joined together in Matrimony, ye do now confess it—"

  Hunt returned to his own thoughts as the vicar droned on, which might have been a bit sacrilegious considering the enormity of what he was undertaking. He really should be paying attention, but he was horrified to realize all his thoughts were now focused on the wedding night.

  He was thankful that the wedding breakfast would be held at Diana’s house with Lady Greystone, an old friend of her grandmother’s, hosting the event there. That way when they were finished eating, he could whisk his new wife off to his townhouse and not have to be concerned with ushering lingering guests out the door.

  He managed to pull his attention back as they spoke their vows. Diana’s hands were ice cold, and she looked scared to death. “It’s all right, sweetheart.” He offered her a smile and repeated the vicar’s words.

  With this Ring I thee wed, with my Body I thee worship, and with all my worldly Goods I thee endow: In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

  He slipped the simple gold band on Diana’s finger. Their eyes met, and they both grinned. He knew right then he had made the best decision in his life.

  18

  With so few people attending the ceremony at the church, it didn’t take Diana and her new husband long to sign the marriage register and proceed to their carriage, accepting well wishes from the few attendees along the way.

  Even though when planning the wedding she had indicated a small wedding breakfast would be her preference, now she was glad Hunt had insisted on a large one. With the ceremony over, she felt more relaxed and would enjoy a bit of celebration. And food.

  Grandmama’s fondest friend, Lady Greystone, had offered to oversee the event at Diana’s house since Lady Greystone lived in a very small townhouse.

  With Diana’s father unavailable, Hunt had worked out the marriage contract with Diana’s solicitor, and it had been decided she would maintain her townhouse because, with all of Grandmama’s things still there, Diana did not have the heart to sell it. She had a few ideas on how to make use of the dwelling. Perhaps a residence for homeless women or neglected children.

  She managed to find positions for all her staff either at one of Hunt’s properties or with other members of the ton for those servants who didn’t want to leave London.

  “Did I tell you how beautiful you looked?” Hunt sat alongside her in the carriage, holding her hands in his as the carriage began its departure from the church to Diana’s townhouse.

  “Yes. I believe you did.” She smirked at him. “You look quite the dandy yourself, my lord.”

  Hunt placed his palm on her cheek. “You know that tiny little kiss the vicar allowed at the end of the ceremony was hardly enough time for a decent one with my new wife.”

  Oh, dear. All of a sudden, the air in the carriage seemed to disappear, and heat settled in her middle. “Yes. Hardly enough time.” Was that her voice panting like that?

  Without further conversation, Hunt lowered his head and took her mouth in a kiss that could only be called possessive. Different from their prior kisses. Someone made a slight growl. She thought it was Hunt, but with how she was responding to his kiss, it could very well have been her.

  He pulled her close, and she slid her hands up his chest to encircle his neck. Their tongues dueled for possession and control. Of course, Hunt being the more experienced one, he won the physical debate.

  Not that she minded. She was having too good of a time.

  All too soon, it seemed, he pulled back and cupped her face, rubbing his thumbs over her cheeks. “We are going to have a good marriage, Diana. I promise you.”

  “I hope so. I know I wasn’t your ch—”

  “Stop.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I don’t want to hear that again. You were my choice. I am not arrogant enough to think you believe it started out that way, but I assure you nothing, and absolutely no one, forced me to speak those vows today. I want you, and I know we will suit quite well.”

  “I will try to be a good wife, Hunt. Honest. I know I’ve had my stumbles, but I am looking forward to what all young ladies look towards. My own home, a husband, children. . .”

  The rakish glimmer in his eyes brought back the fluttering in her middle. “Yes, dear wife. Let’s talk about the making of children.” He smiled and pulled her back toward him as the carriage came to a rolling stop in front of her townhouse.

  “Ah, too late.”

  The extra grooms and footmen they hired for the day were busy helping the guests from their carriages and moving the vehicles to the mews.

  Hunt climbed out of the carriage and turned to assist her. “Ready, sweetheart?”

  Diana took a deep breath. “As ready as I ever will be.”

  They entered the house and were immediately surrounded by guests. Lady Greystone directed the footmen to assist in forming a line so the guests could greet the bridal couple.

  The air-kissing, bowing and curtseying seemed to take forever and, by the time all the guests made their way through the line, Diana was parched, her feet hurt, and she was ready to eat. Being a bit nervous, she had skipped her usual toast and hot chocolate that morning.

  “Are you feeling all right, sweeting? You look a bit worn.”

  “I am. I’d like nothing more than to sit down and have a cup of tea.”

  “So it shall be.” Hunt waved one of the footmen over. “Please have tea sent to Lady Huntington’s place at the table.”

  Lady Huntington.

  Diana started at those words. That was now her. She was no longer Lady Diana Pemberton. She had a new title, a new name, a new residence. And a new husband, who apparently was quite solicitous.

  A good start.

  “Come.” He took her hand and walked her away from the line.

  “What about the guests who haven’t arrived yet?”

  “They can greet us when they arrive. You need to sit down and have some tea.” He regarded her. “I’ll bet you skipped your breakfast this morning, did you not?”

  She smiled at his concern. “This is our breakfast, remember?”

  “Ah. Well done, my lady. However, a bit of tea will calm you down.” He walked them both to the table where the bride and groom were to sit. Driscoll already sat in his seat, with Dante alongside him. Next to Diana’s seat was Patricia McDowell, her best friend from school.

  Even though they had only seen each other a couple times since Patricia married a Highlander, she still made the trip to London to act as bridesmaid. Her Highlander husband was so big he terrified Diana when she first met him at Patricia’s wedding.

  However, from what Patricia had told her and what she’d witnessed herself, Laird Ashton was besotted with his wife and three small daughters. Patricia also assured Diana that he was so thrilled with the little girls he had no cares that there were no sons. So far, Patricia had added, as she’d giggled and blushed
. Which left Diana thinking her friend was in a family way again.

  Diana stopped briefly at the table where her father and his family sat to have a few words with them. They were going to spend some time at Diana’s townhouse and see the London sights before heading back to their home in South Yorkshire.

  Before Diana had taken even one sip of her tea, the footmen began serving the breakfast Diana had planned with Cook. Marinated South Uist salmon, Lyme Bay crab, Hebridean langoustines over an herb salad, Highland Mey Select lamb, Highland Grove spring vegetables, English Asparagus, Jersey potatoes, sauce Windsor, and a trio of Berkshire honey ice cream, sherry trifle and chocolate parfait for dessert, along with the beautiful wedding cake that had been placed in the center of the table where Diana, Hunt, Driscoll and Patricia sat.

  Diana was quite pleased at how well the food looked and tasted. Cook was definitely due a boon for the fine meal she had prepared.

  * * *

  As fine a meal as Diana’s staff had cooked and served, Hunt was anxious to finish up the feast and hustle his bride out of the house and to his townhouse.

  He’d had his staff prepare his bedchamber with flowers and champagne and warned them that he and his bride would not be leaving the room until the next morning, so dinner and the following morning’s breakfast was to be served in the bedchamber.

  Since he had duties to perform in Parliament, he could only squeak out a week to take Diana on a wedding trip. Diana had confessed to him at one time that she loved the city of Bath, so Hunt had arranged for them to stay in the Gainsborough Bath Spa. Named after the famous and beloved painter, Sir Thomas Gainsborough, the hotel was centered around Spa Village Bath and had the exclusive privilege of direct access to the natural thermal, mineral-rich waters, for which the city was famous.