Darkest Valentine

by Leona Bushman

  Obediently, she followed her into the other room. There, on the bed lay a beautiful pink gown. Silk roses and beads adorned the bodice which dipped in at the waist. The skirt had too many beads for her to count. Silk embroidered roses in white and pink worked along the bottom with the ribbon roses at each end and an extraordinary amount of white seed beads covered it. A veil with the silk embroidery across the bottom and beads on the clip lay next to it.

  She traced the exquisite handy work. Such beauty and detail. “How?”

  “Clarence hired an army of the finest seamstresses. They charged him a bundle for it, too, not that he cared or paid attention. He did not want you to be cheated out of your wedding dress. It was delivered right after he left to acquire you from you father’s home. He hasn’t seen it.”

  Tears of joy flooded her. “He did this? For me?”

  “I’ve never seen him this way for anyone else, if an old mother’s advice counts for anything. Women have thrown themselves at him for ages, and he barely afforded them a glance. For last season and this, he barely tolerated the antics of any woman vying for his attention. I suspect, that’s when he first saw you.”

  Lillian nodded. “It is also my understanding. I’m afraid I’d only ever heard rumors and never personally knew the man himself they were on about. I stuck to my friends, and as I had no desire to wed, I paid barely a modicum of attention to such things unless my friends held an interest for someone.” She gave a rueful smile to this amazing woman about to become her mother-in-law. “I paid more attention to the men paying attention to Hermione and Sarah than me.”

  The duchess patted her hand. “Come. It will take us many minutes to prepare you. I wish Janice could have made it in time to help. She will meet with us on our estates. Jacob has apparently been offered a job with my son as well.”

  Lillian laughed. “That is the best news. I am so glad Janice will be joining us.” She swiftly buried the pang of regret that they’d be leaving Father’s house. She’d already planned on taking Janice with her once she came into her own money. Jacob would be a welcome addition and make Janice happy.

  Sarah and Hermione joined them. Stuck without maids for the day, the four of them did their hair together and helped each other into their dresses, doing Lillian’s last. When they finished, she stared into the mirror, barely recognizing herself.

  A soft blush caressed her cheeks. Her eyes sparkled, and her hair, left down and long, gleamed from the brushing. The veil lay over it, the comb sparkling. Once at the chapel, she would drop the veil. For now, she simply let the good feelings of being cared for fill her up.

  “You’re beautiful,” Sarah and Hermione said at the same time, and Lillian laughed.

  “I feel beautiful. Maybe for the first time in my life.”

  The three girls hugged each other, and Lillian’s heart overflowed with emotions. “Thank you. All of you. You’ve all made this day possible. Without your friendship, I may have turned out like my brother.”

  “No, I think not, Lillian. Your heart is pure,” the dowager interjected. “You may have been more bitter and less forgiving than you’d like, but your spirit and your strength would have protected you. Your brother, sorry to say, was weak minded and easily led. And, his spirit held to a darkness which you do not have.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  “It is nothing short of the truth. Now, it is time to go to the chapel.”

  The ride to the chapel passed in a sort of blur for her. She was getting married.

  Married.

  Her hands perused her dress. To a man who cared about her feelings, who understood about family, and family that wasn’t so good. Who would do her a favor to help a friend. Who treated her like a person. “I’m sorry,” she said to Sarah and Hermione. “I have the best husband. I wanted that for the two of you.”

  The two ladies laughed with her. “I am never getting married,” Hermione said fiercely. “I appreciate what you have done to protect my reputation, but it has taught me much. I shall enjoy my freedom as a ‘widow’ and live with my father, then my brother.”

  “Or you can live with me, Hermione. The west wing can be made into your apartments. There is room for a nursery as well.”

  “You mean it, Sarah?”

  “Of course I do. I will instruct my people to get started immediately on drawing up plans. You will have to come and approve them and choose your color and fabrics.”

  Hermione started crying. “Oh thank you. I have no desire to be with a man, but having to stay under my brother’s thumb did not hold much appeal. He is ever so over protective of me now.”

  “As he should be,” the dowager said. “Especially, if the circumstances are as I suspect. Oh, do no be giving me that look of horror, ladies. I have been around far longer than the three of you have. I’ve seen the perfidy of men. I was fortunate enough to marry a good one. You can trust me. In case you haven’t noticed, this branch of the Canterburys isn’t quite as conventional as the title would presume.”

  Hope for her friend’s future sprang forth. “I am fortunate. I am not quite as conventional as Father would like, either. Any help given to Hermione, I would count as a personal favor,” she said quietly.

  “As would I,” Sarah put in. “I agree, Lillian. You have found the best husband for you.”

  The carriage slowed to a stop and a footman let them out. The others descended first, then she followed, careful of her dress. The chapel was a small stone one, only a couple stories high, though the bell tower rose higher.

  As she went through the front door, she breathed in and out, holding her stomach. This was it. Her last chance. Could she marry him, be his by law the rest of her life? She was giving up much. But that time just over a week ago, at the docks, her life would be over. Her limbs went weak at the reminder. The only question was whether she would still be alive or if she’d be suffering fates worse than her imagination could conjure despite all the books she read. She knew that. Then all the color left her face. Goodness, if he’d not come into their lives, Jarvis would have killed her whole family as well, and not just her brother.

  No, he was whom she needed, whom she wanted. She deserved him. Head held high with renewed purpose, she walked forward, toward her new life. Her Clarence. She walked with optimism and love and joy. Already, she sensed she would not feel so alone any more.

  Clarence waited for her in sharply pressed trousers and a black jacket with tails, a red rose in the pocket. However, it wasn’t his clothing which had her catching her breath. It was the look on his face as she walked toward him.

  Happiness, love, worry, and seriousness.

  The last gave her the most hope for their future. She didn’t see smug revenge, or evil, or anything along those lines. He was marrying her for her, had stood up to her father, had vanquished Jarvis. Each step closer, she had to pace herself not to run and jump in his arms, to have him cradle her in the safe cocoon of his arms.

  As she neared, she only had eyes for him. He held out his hand, and she took it in his, barely registering the chaplain waiting to marry them. She remembered very little about the ceremony, except that the words of love in the vows were spoken with intent and meaning as he said them, and that her own came from the heart.

  They signed the official papers, and Sarah witnessed for her and his mother for him. At the inn, there was a small cake and a large repast for all of them. She barely tasted the food, just enjoyed the atmosphere of laughter and love. It had been too long since she’d seen Hermione this relaxed. Sarah was in her element, and a friendship between the dowager and her was fast forming.

  A glow of happiness, as if a tangible thing, emanated from her heart. All she’d ever wanted was this. Her mom had tried, as well as her father, she could see now, but they didn’t have this comradery, not with Robert’s antics between them all.

  She pushed the thoughts of Robert away. He had no place here. After a time, Clarence stood up and held his hand to her. “Come, Lillian. It is time.”


  “For what?”

  The dowager laughed and the other two tittered, and she frowned at them in confusion before it dawned on her. “Oh. My.” She stood up and linked their hands, cheeks burning.

  They walked up the stairs, and she kept glancing over at him. They went into his suite and found a bottle of wine and flowers and more food. “I see the appeal of weddings, now,” she said. “It’s a lot of food and laughter and pretty dresses.”

  He laughed. “No, my darling. They are not usually this much laughter. It is you.” He tugged on her hand to bring him up against his body.

  She wanted to stay there forever, safe, loving, warmth, laughing. But then he kissed her. Her lips softened against his, and her body became pliant, seeking something more. He gently grasped her shoulders and stood her back and stared at her. His blue eyes glittered with something dark, something exciting. The sadness normally there seemed lessened tonight. She reached a hand up to his cheek and stroked down, curling her fingers in his beard.

  “I love you, Clarence. I am glad it was you who saved me from my brother. You kissed me then, in a way that had my body aching. My lips experienced something new, something which I long for now.”

  The darkness in his eyes changed and something flared, and her body reacted strongly to the unknown but strangely exciting look he passed upon her.

  He guided her to another room in the suite and turned her so that her back was to him. He spent long minutes undoing the buttons down her back. Occasionally, his hand would stroke the area above her corset, sending tingles of awareness down her spine to where her legs met up.

  Carefully, he pulled off the tight-fitting bodice and pushed the dress to the floor. He then helped her step out of it, and again, with great care, he hung the dress up on a peg near the door before he faced her.

  She stood in her new, white kid boots, garter stockings, and corset. As he continued to stare, she became self-conscious and nervous. She crossed her arms, and the heat of his stare only increased. “Say something,” she begged. “Anything.” Was she misreading him? Did he not want her?

  “You are exquisite.”

  Stunned, her arms slowly dropped. “Truly?”

  “I have never seen anyone more beautiful. I am afraid of hurting you. I am afraid of pushing you too fast. I want to touch you, experience you, to feel you beneath me, to claim you as mine. The need is visceral and new.”

  “I—” Her hand flew to her throat. His words had her burning from deep within. Heat infused her skin, and she wanted him to touch her, to bring back those sensations from the carriage the first time he’d saved her. “I want that too, though I don’t fully comprehend what is to happen. I want to be yours. I want to forget about all that’s happened between our families and let it just be us.”

  He came to her then, and crushed her to him for a bruising kiss. His power and dominance thrilled her. His tongue circled her lips, and she gasped. He stuck his tongue in her mouth, and a headiness made her dizzy with want. Her hands crept up around his neck to hold on.

  Wetness pooled between her legs as his hand came around and grasped her hair at the base of her neck. His other hand went around to her butt, and she squirmed as his hand caressed her bare skin. It all felt so good that she thought she understood why they warned women away from it until marriage. Her skin tingled all over. She wanted more. Just. More. Wanted him make her feel all these lovely things and keep touching her. His mouth left hers to trace down her neck, and a moan escaped at the sensitive touches of his lips on her skin. Her body became a stranger to her, like a living thing out of her control. Upon her chest, her nipples became like hardened orbs scraping across her corset, too tight, too confining.

  An unknown need plowed through her, leaving want and lust in their wake. All at once it became too much. Too much feeling, too much sensation. Afraid of what was happening to her, she stepped back, chest heaving.

  His eyes bore through her soul, making dark promises that her heart yearned for but that her mind didn’t understand. What was happening to her?

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Clarence panted with need. Watching her chest heave didn’t help, and he tried to stare at her eyes, but they were green as the loch on his lands, and just as unfathomable as the deepest parts. They looked into the deepest part of him, warming him from the inside out. He raised a hand to her flushed cheek. “What is it, Lillian? Are you having second thoughts?”

  “I’m scared,” she said.

  Shock hit him like a sucker punch. “Of me?”

  “Oh, no never,” she exclaimed and hugged him hard. She brought her face back to meet his gaze. “Of me, of how my body is feeling. It’s so much. I can’t contain it, don’t know what to do. It aches,” she said her voice a siren which almost brought him to his knees.

  “My sweet, innocent, love. That is normal when a man and woman are both enjoying themselves. Let me show you how much more you can experience, explore the sensations of pleasure on your skin, inside of you. Let me love you,” he said thickly. As he spoke, his own needs and desires spiked. He brushed a wayward lock of her hair off her face and tucked it behind her ear.

  “Clarence,” she said hoarsely, a thread of need winding its way around his heart. “Yes.”

  “Lillian,” he said, his emotions stronger than he could remember having, and he cupped her face in his hands. “You won’t regret this. I vow it.”

  With a gentleness he’d not have thought himself capable with the power of his need roaring through him, he kissed her again, coaxing her back to her earlier state. He trailed a hand down her chest to the top of her swells there, then tucked a hand in and cupped her breasts.

  Her little mewling sounds drove him wild, whilst at the same time, it made him more cognizant of her innocence. With tenderness, he undid the clasps of the garters. Then, he rolled down her stockings, kneeling in front of her. He gazed up at her, and his mouth went dry. Her breast he’d fondled pushed against the edge almost spilling over, as if trying to get to him to come back.

  He turned his attention to the other leg and slid the stocking off her foot, setting it aside and rubbing her foot. Then he glided his hand up her legs, enjoying the feel of her, the right to touch her. He’d claim her as his in more than just name before the night was through. He stood slowly, breathing against her skin as he moved above the corset. He undid the stays as he watched her. Those green eyes would be the death of him. They caused him to feel strong enough to move mountains yet set him on his knees.

  When her corset came free in his hands, he tossed it to the side, then took out the comb that held her veil in. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders as he freed it. He took the time to pull out all the pins in her hair until every glorious strand flowed around his hands.

  “Undress me,” he ordered huskily.

  Tentatively, she put her hands on the front of his shirt, then undid the buttons, before pushing it off his shoulders. Her hands came back and explored his shoulders, then his chest, her light touch causing his muscles to flex, and his prick to swell.

  With a will of iron, he forced himself not to push her faster. He wanted to order her to take off his trousers immediately, but didn’t want to scare her. Then her hands slid lower, and she began to unclasp his pants. She pushed them down around his ankles, and his cock sprang free. He saw the widening of her eyes a moment before she dropped her gaze. Please, touch me, he prayed, still holding on to his control, but by a mere thread.

  She reached out a hand and slid her fingers down his shaft. His hips bucked, and he held on to her shoulders to keep himself still. Bolder, she clasped the length of him in her fist, and, staring into his eyes, she moved it up and down.

  “This please you, my lord?” she asked shyly.

  “If it pleases me much more, this night will go much too quickly.”

  This time, the eyes became so round her whites showed, and her mouth matched the “o” of them. Her movements stilled, so he put his hand over hers and slowly moved
it up and down. “Does it please you to touch me?”

  Her face flushed, and her eyes sparkled before she answered. “Yes, my lord. Strangely, I find myself aroused at the prospect of touching you like this.”

  He groaned and allowed himself the pleasure of her hands a few more times before he pulled himself out of her grasp. He lifted her up and carried her to the bed, laying her on the bed and following her down but a bit off to the side. Exquisite torture for his control, but he had to touch her, to pleasure her, to show her that the love of a man didn’t have to be a duty.

  Her skin under his fingertips was soft and he traced a finger around her nipple until the peak stood hard and ready. Then, watching her face the whole time, he lowered his head and took the hardened tip into his mouth. The pure pleasure on her face had him ready to lose his seed right there. She was so responsive, so uninhibited in showing her emotions that his heart grew even more for her. She didn’t use it to control or manipulate as he’d heard about so many other wives in the ton.

  He suckled more until her eyes dropped close and those cute little noises started again. One hand trailed down her navel to the soft curls. He searched for her nubbin and then rubbed it until it grew and the soft mewling turned into harder sounds and pants.

  “Clarence,” she said, her tone of voice shocked. “Clarence!”

  “Yes, love, let it out. Tell me how you like it.” Pride in bringing her to the brink so quickly mixed with grateful humbleness that she trusted him so much.

  “Oh, oh…” she panted and then her back arched as she cried out. When she settled again, a smug sort of smile crossed her face.

  “That’s so very nice,” she said.

  He gave a groan laugh combination. “It’s barely started, sweetheart.”

  He moved his attentions to the other breast, then inserted two fingers into her wet heat. His cock hardened so much that it hurt, and he wanted relief. But he pushed that need down and concentrated on her pleasure. He slid his fingers in and out of her until her hips matched his movement, then gradually sped up the pace. He’d never had such a need to please a woman before, but that was what filled him now. He wanted her satiated before he found his own release, whatever it took.