Gregory was dumfounded. Bunty would never have dared to undermine him in such a public manner. How dare his new bride show him up in this light? Lady Lushington was enthusing happily on her daughter’s plan.
He interrupted them. “I am sorry to disappoint you both. I have already explained to your daughter that will not be possible. I have commitments in Hertfordshire that require my urgent attention, and so we leave on the morrow for Lamberhurst House.”
To his astonishment, Holly continued to press for her own way, imploring her father to intervene. It would be bad ton to leave this early in the proceedings, but he had to put a stop to his bride’s machinations.
“Excuse us for a moment.” He managed a tight smile and small inclination of his head to his new parents-in-law. Taking hold of Holly’s arm, he towed her through the throng and across the hallway into his new father-in-law’s study, whereupon he closed the door firmly behind them.
“What do you think you are doing?” he asked immediately.
She shrugged.
“Holly,” he warned.
“Oh, stop being such a killjoy! I cannot see the harm in indulging me over this; after all, you have ruined my wedding day and taken no time to court or woo me before dragging me off to the altar. Why can’t we simply stay on in London for a little while; what difference will it make? Besides which, it is snowing and not conducive to travel.”
Logic was there, somewhere amongst the emotion, he gave her that, but he could not let her win this particular argument or she might seek to undermine him regularly.
“You have to accept that I have my reasons which shall become apparent to you in due course. In the meantime, I want you to remember this: you will never again contradict me in public. Any discussion about my decisions will be made in private. Do you understand, madam?”
“Madam, how novel that sounds. I suppose I shall soon get used to that!”
Gregory ground his teeth. Have I married an imbecile?
“Holly?” He was slowly losing patience.
“Yes, Greg-gor-y.” She drawled his name with shameful mockery combined with an overtly coquettish glance through fluttering eyelashes.
He closed the distance between them, so vexed that he gave no thought to his intentions. Grabbing her by her upper arms, he yanked her to him and glared down into the widened pools of blue that reflected her shock. He brought his mouth to bear over hers, thrusting his tongue deep between her plump lips.
His intention was to punish, but to his surprise, she responded in kind. Far from being cowed by his physicality, Holly countered his parrying thrusts with her tongue. Although it was obvious to him she was a novice at kissing, he became highly aroused, his shaft straining at his breeches.
A kind of red mist enveloped him. He clasped her about her waist and tightened his hold. Then crushed her to his chest and ravished her mouth.
A loud cough alerted him to another’s presence. Lifting his head, he met the startled gaze of Lord Lushington. He released his bride, relieved that his father-in-law refrained from mentioning the kiss, merely suggesting they rejoin their guests. As he passed through the doorway into the hall, a hand slipped into his. Surprised, he looked down at his new wife. She smiled sweetly up at him and winked. An uncomfortable prickle tickled his neck, and he knew he was flushed. She’d done this to him once before at a ball. His cock sprang up, and he cursed. He could not enter into company in an aroused state.
“I need some air, I shall join you presently,” Gregory told her, disentangling her hand. He hastened away.
Holly stared after her new husband feeling somewhat bemused. It was almost as though he were the virgin bride and she the experienced bridegroom. My goodness, but that kiss had been enlightening. She’d not thought a kiss would feel so physical, so powerful, so liberating. She would happily leave now and repair at once to his house for her wedding night; she wanted…well, more than a kiss.
They travelled to his London house, situated on Curzon Street, in silence. They arrived to find the servants had gathered in the hallway to welcome their new mistress. It was not a large staff, but Holly remembered that Lord Caulderbury tended to spend most of his time in the country. She made her way along the line of the household beginning with the butler, Dunnett, and ending with the scullery maid, Kathleen, chatting cheerfully and easily with each one of them.
“Dunnett, a drop of ale for everyone who wants it before bed, in honour of my marriage,” Gregory ordered.
“And mine, darling,” she added, beaming at the staff.
“Yes, of course,” he said, then added stiffly, “Mrs Wilkins, please show my wife up to her chamber.”
The housekeeper stepped forward, and Holly dutifully followed her up the staircase. This cold approbation from her new husband was not at all how she had imagined the start of her married life to be.
The chamber was charming, and more importantly, a fire burned brightly in the grate. Matilda awaited her there, and Holly greeted her maid as though she had not seen her in months. Rushing forward as soon as the housekeeper left the room, she hugged Matilda fiercely. Inexplicably, she found herself in tears.
“Miss, please don’t take on so, everything will be fine. Hush now, miss—sorry, I mean, madam, no, mistress, no, no, I mean milady…oh Lordy.”
Holly giggled, despite herself.
“Thank goodness for you, Matilda.”
“What you need is a glass of warm milk and honey. I have some fruit cake, too, courtesy of your mother. She didn’t think you had tasted any of your wedding cake and sent some over with me.”
Holly enjoyed Matilda’s fussing and ate her refreshment seated before the fire. Her maid then helped her to disrobe and prepare for bed. While the maid brushed out her hair, there was a discreet knock at the door, and Gregory appeared, still fully clothed.
“I came to bid you goodnight. I shall sleep in my own chambers so as not to disturb you. We have an early start on the morrow and a long journey. Probably best if your maid fetches you a light breakfast at dawn. That way we can be underway quickly. Rest well, dear girl. Goodnight.”
Holly stared after him, aghast. No honeymoon and now no wedding night? What kind of marriage had she entered into? More importantly, what manner of man had she married?
Matilda cast a worried glance at her mistress, but Holly studiously ignored her. Containing her embarrassment, she wanted to be alone with the sense of shame that flooded her.
“Please leave me, Matilda. You will need a good night’s rest to face further travel tomorrow. Thank you for agreeing to come with me; it means a lot to me to have a friendly face and someone I trust beside me.”
Matilda set aside the clothes brush she was using to tease out Holly’s wedding gown and crossed to Holly. Seemingly without thought to the consequences of her position, she hugged her mistress. Touched by her gesture, Holly returned her affection. It felt comforting to be held.
“Let me tuck you in, milady,” Matilda offered, and Holly, feeling vulnerable, allowed herself to be helped into the four-poster bed.
As soon as Matilda left the room, she turned her face into the pillow and wept bitterly.
Chapter 6
A thin layer of snow coated the street; it remained extremely cold. The luggage coach left an hour before they were ready to set off with Braxton, Gregory’s valet, aboard the cumbersome old coach. His orders were to reserve rooms for his master at their intended overnight stop.
Matilda and Holly rode inside the Caulderbury crested carriage, snuggled under thick plaid blankets with heated bricks at their feet, Holly’s hands cocooned in a fur muff, Matilda’s in wool. An ample basket of food tucked under one seat had been provided by the cook for the journey. Gregory chose not to join the women inside but instead rode. Not the huge black steed that Holly had once pictured him astride, but a large roan with a gentle, stoical nature.
The houses thinned as they left London behind. The landscape became picturesque, etched by snow, the aspect cross-stitched by hedg
es, the country quilted with fields. Trees, frost-rimmed in their nakedness, stood stark against the winter sky. Yet the pretty scene did nothing to raise Holly’s spirits, and after an initial attempt at drawing her mistress into conversation, Matilda gave up and stared out at the rolling countryside.
They stopped briefly for luncheon at a tavern en route, but it was a rushed affair with Gregory chivvying Holly and her maid to hurry. He explained that he wanted to get underway again with haste. If they were to overnight before darkness fell at around four o’clock, there was no time to dally. He reassured them his valet had been instructed to reserve rooms at a coaching inn. Gregory surmised aloud that the luggage conveyance should arrive an hour previous since it had set off an hour earlier than them.
They drew into the courtyard at the Kings Arms and found the luggage coach arrived and chambers already reserved. Holly assumed they would be in separate rooms after spending her wedding night alone, but since the hostelry was full to bursting, she soon discovered they would be sleeping in the same bedchamber.
Matilda first unlaced her mistress’s boots. Removing them, she set them beside the smoky fire and bustled about making the threadbare chamber feel cosy and warm. Efficiently stoking the meagre fire, she soon had it blazing cheerily in the grate. Gregory left them and went down to order supper to be brought up to the room. Meanwhile, a maid entered carrying a tray of tea. Matilda poured Holly a reviving cupful.
“You must have some, too. You must be as chilled as I,” Holly insisted.
“If you’re sure, milady, I would appreciate a hot drink,” Matilda said, helping herself to the precious tea. “I’ll lay out your nightgown and shawl and then I’ll go and eat downstairs.”
“Check your chamber is adequate, and if it is lacking, I want you to tell me. In fact, if ever you find something not to your liking, I want your promise that you will speak out,” Holly insisted.
She was her stepmother’s daughter, properly instructed with the running of a large household which meant a fine appreciation of a good servant. Holly had been taught to take a servant’s needs into consideration; her mama had impressed upon her daughter that a happy home was only truly achieved with a contented staff.
“Yes, milady, thank you, but I am sure my room will be absolutely fine. Will there be anything else before I go?”
Holly shook her head. “No, you go and get something to eat.”
The door creaked, announcing Gregory’s return.
“I’ll be back later and help you retire, ma’am.” Matilda bobbed a curtsy.
He held the door open for Matilda, closing it behind her.
“Would you like some tea?” Holly enquired.
“Please.”
He roamed about the room, making her feel unsettled by his obvious restlessness.
“Are you not fatigued after a day in the saddle?” she asked.
He stopped his pacing.
“I am,” he replied.
“Well then, come and sit beside me before the fire. Why not take off your riding boots?”
He hesitated but suddenly flung himself down into the chair opposite her, on the other side of the hearth. She poured him a cup of tea and passed it across to him. They drank companionably; the room was quiet save for the rattle of the windowpanes caused by a rising wind and the occasional pop from a log on the fire. Holly broke the silence first.
“What time do you estimate we shall arrive at Lamberhurst on the morrow?”
“Perhaps midday; it rather depends on the time of our departure,” he explained. He leant forward and replaced his empty cup and saucer on the tray, then began to remove his boots.
Holly set aside her own cup and slipped gracefully to her knees.
“Here, let me assist you.” She grasped the boot under his heel and yanked. The boot came off with such speed she tumbled backwards in a flurry of petticoats and knocked the tea tray and accoutrements flying.
Holly lay stunned. Gregory’s face filled her vision.
“Are you all right?” he asked, bending over her.
She sat up on the floor and smoothed her ruffled skirts.
“Is anything broken?” Holly glanced about anxiously.
He surprised her by sliding his palms down her arms. She stared at him, bewildered.
“Whatever are you doing?”
“Checking to see if you have broken anything,” he said.
Holly giggled.
“I meant the china!” She chortled.
He sat back on his haunches and grinned.
“Ah, well, that is another matter. I fear a couple of cups might have lost their handles. I shall compensate the landlord.”
Holly pouted.
“What a pair of stubborn boots you own,” she said.
He chuckled and helped her up off the floor. She came level with his chest and peeked up at him. Their eyes locked. Slowly, his face filled her vision, and he moved closer still. His lips caressed hers, and the next thing she knew, her arms were wound about his neck. Holly was assaulted by a whole host of sensations she had never experienced before.
His tongue ran along the seam of her lips. She parted her mouth, and his tongue tangled with hers. While they kissed, she became acutely aware of her own body pressed hard to his chest. With each slight movement, her nipples chafed against the cloth of her dress. The buds hardened to aching peaks which sent a shaft of delight to her core, an area which suddenly sparked into life, molten with desire.
The tantalising moment was spoiled by a sudden rat-a-tat knock at the door. They broke apart guiltily as the maid entered, announcing that their supper had arrived. She placed the tray on the larger table, set beneath the window.
“Lawdy, what’s ’appened ’ere?” She surveyed the tumbled side table and china scattered on the threadbare carpet.
“An accident, but I will reimburse the landlord, so add it to my account,” Gregory reassured her.
The maid bent to gather the debris, stacking it onto the fallen tray.
Holly hung her head, feeling responsible for the breakages. Her gaze fell on the peculiar sight of Gregory wearing a single boot on one foot and a loose wool sock upon the other. She tried but failed to stifle a giggle.
When the girl had gone, Gregory turned to her, merriment twinkled in his dark eyes.
“What made you suddenly laugh?” he asked.
She pointed to his feet, and he glanced down.
“Ah, yes!” Grinning, he sat and pulled the remaining boot free, revealing another loose woollen sock.
Holly served him with a plate of rabbit stew from beneath the covered dish on the supper tray, adding a hunk of warm, freshly made bread to mop up the gravy. She had never eaten such a casual meal before and found the experience intimately charming. Afterwards, they ate a jam pudding covered in custard then simply sat, conversing.
Holly asked about the history of Lamberhurst. He gave her the information she needed about each of the servants. She was appreciative that he named the important few, such as butler, housekeeper, and cook. She could not have remembered the whole staff of his estate; such a feat would take her a while.
At a natural pause in their conversation, Gregory offered to help her disrobe for the night. Before she could summon up a reply, a knock sounded on the door, and the maid returned for the supper tray. She was immediately followed into the chamber by Matilda and Gregory’s valet, Braxton.
The maid left, and Holly allowed Matilda to help her prepare for the night. While the maid assisted her disrobing, Holly cast surreptitious glances over at her husband, watching Braxton help him out of his clothes. A furious blush stained her cheeks as his breeches and linens were removed, revealing his firm, sculptured backside to her gaze. Frustratingly, Matilda chose that moment to drag a nightgown over her head, thus shielding her eyes from anything more.
Chapter 7
Finally, they were alone. The atmosphere became charged with tension. Holly scuttled over to the double bed, scrambled onto it, and watched Gregory cros
sing the room naked. Her heart hammered at the sight of the hardened maleness protruding from his groin; surely he must be as big as a horse? Holly had once seen a stallion cover a mare, but she had never imagined a man would be quite so large.
Kneeling on the bed, he pushed the covers off her and lay beside her.
She kept her eyes closed as his lips grazed hers. He slipped his hand beneath her head and cradled her it. His kiss deepened, and his tongue snaked into her mouth. Her eyelids fluttered open. Sweet sensuality washed over her; she wanted more of the same. Holly moaned softly against his lips and shifted closer to him, winding her arms around his neck.
Her breath hitched at the movement of his hand. It glided across her body, coming to rest upon a breast, fingers plucking at her nipple. Her flesh pebbled hard under her gossamer night-rail. When he broke the kiss, he placed his mouth over the burgeoning bud. A sweet pulling sent desire thrumming through her stomach and sparked deeply at the apex of her thighs. She whimpered.
He moved away from her, and she felt his loss keenly until he took hold of the hem of her nightgown, and she realised he had only shifted to remove her night attire. She trembled at the strange, yet exciting, sensation of his heated male flesh pressed to her nakedness.
“Are you afraid?” he asked huskily, studying her face.
“Nervous but not actually afraid,” she assured him.
“I’ll take it slowly, but you should know that the first time is uncomfortable for a woman. There is a barrier inside you, called your maidenhead. I have to breach that, but once it is done, the conjugal act shall not hurt again. Do you have any questions you would like to ask before I begin?” he enquired kindly.
“Um, where is my maidenhead?” She had always assumed it to be in her tummy button.
He leant in and kissed the tip of her nose.
“I will show you.”
His hand skimmed over the flesh of her bosom, down the flare of her hip, moving slowly to lie between her thighs. Holly drew in a sharp breath and clamped her knees tight together. He gave a resonant chuckle.
Once Upon a Christmas Wedding Page 244
