Lessons for His Bride (Regency Matchmaker Book 3)

by Celeste Jones

  Lady Tempest let loose a hearty blow into her hankie, then looked up at him with a smile. “Beautiful wedding,” she said.

  Reverend Ellis instructed the bride and groom to kneel. Seraphina passed her sneeze-inducing bouquet to Lady Tempest, then Lucas assisted her to her knees while imagining doing the same in a more private setting, where his little bride would submit to him and—before his thoughts could continue in that vein, the vicar touched his hands to their heads and spoke a final blessing upon them.

  Those whom God has joined together, let no man put asunder.

  And just like that, Seraphina Moon was now the wife of Dr. Lucas Spencer. Seraphina Spencer. Mrs. Seraphina Spencer. Dr. and Mrs. Lucas Spencer. ‘Twas all too heady to take in.

  What an eventful day it had been, and it had not gone noon yet.

  The small wedding party had gathered outside the vicarage. The two carriages stood one in front of the other, the first of which belonged to Lady Knox and was the carriage in which Seraphina and her two benefactresses had arrived. Luxurious and elegantly decorated on the inside, on the exterior, the door was emblazoned with the Knox family crest in gold, and it was staffed by a driver, an assistant driver, and two footmen all in spotlessly clean livery.

  In comparison, Dr. Spencer had arrived in a much smaller, much more functional, carriage with the lone driver dressed in a dark coat and pants.

  For many young ladies, this stark contrast would have been quite a disappointment, indeed. However, up until the time she began living with Lady Tempest at Primrose Park, Seraphina had been used to a much more modest way of life. Not just modest, but in many ways, quite dire.

  It had not taken long, of course, for her to become accustomed to the elegance of highborn living, though that also sometimes caused her an excessive amount of anxiety. She was so unused to the fineries and luxuries of life, the opulence of Primrose Park often made her exceptionally uneasy. Much as she marveled at the dramatic change her life had taken, she also felt uncomfortable and out of place, which added to her anxieties and when she was anxious, her behavior tended to become more like the people she had lived with at Mrs. Hartpence’s rather than the genteel manners which Lady Tempest worked so hard to instill in her.

  For someone with her tendencies toward mishap, living in a large estate surrounded by priceless family heirlooms and pieces of art was fraught with potential catastrophe.

  Lady Tempest and Lady Calliope engulfed her in hugs and kisses which touched her heart due to their generosity and genuine good will toward her. “Oh, I believe your husband is quite handsome indeed,” Lady Calliope said. “I am sure the two of you will be exceptionally happy together.”

  “I shall miss you ever so much,” Lady Tempest said with great sincerity. “But I can see Lady Ambrosia has found the perfect husband just for you.” Lady Tempest pulled Seraphina close in another embrace and whispered in her ear, “You had best be careful, Dr. Spencer looks like he can be strict.”

  Seraphina could not meet her benefactor’s eyes but nodded her head and blushed just the same.

  “Come along, Seraphina,” Dr. Spencer said, using her Christian name for the first time and sending a tiny thrill through her at the intimacy of such a gesture. “We must be on our way so we may arrive at home before dark.”

  Home. It was almost too much for her to comprehend that she was soon to have a home of her own. She would be the mistress of the house. It seemed she could not recall a time when she was not living on the charity of someone else. Not just the charity, but at Mrs. Hartpence’s brothel it was clear there was an expectation she would eventually capitulate in a manner which would be lucrative to Mrs. Hartpence, regardless of the consequences to Seraphina, in order to make up for the expense of her upbringing. And then some.

  Colonel St. Clair had arrived and dispatched the ridiculous debt which Mrs. Hartpence had the audacity to claim was due her for the care she had given Seraphina. Care? What a joke that was, but Seraphina had been so shocked by the dramatic turn of events, she had kept those thoughts to herself, not wishing to do anything to jeopardize the glimmer of hope which Colonel St. Clair represented.

  Not to mention the reprieve from the plans which Mrs. Hartpence had for her. She knew she was safe from the wretched Lord Ross, but having lived with the fear of what might happen to her for so long, ridding herself of the immediate terror which coursed through her whenever she thought of it, no matter how fleetingly, had not been easy.

  Even her time at Primrose Park, though delightful and lovely, was all at the charity of the Knox family.

  Did she dare to imagine a household, however modest, where she belonged. Where she was part of a family. Where she was a contributing member of the household. And someday, if she was very lucky, she would have children of her own. She gazed up at Dr. Spencer, her heart full of hope.

  Dr. Spencer touched Seraphina’s elbow. “Come, my bride, it is time for us to say our goodbyes and be on our way.”

  Seraphina was truly torn. She was most eager to have an adventure, to travel to her new home and begin her new life. Yet in the midst of all this newness, she realized she would miss her kind friends, Lady Tempest and Lady Calliope. As she looked at the two ladies who had taken her in and treated her as a friend, an equal, her eyes misted over. “I cannot thank the two of you enough,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.

  “It was our pleasure. We only hope you will be happy in your new life,” Lady Calliope said with a hitch in her voice. “We hope you will not forget us. And perhaps from time to time you will drop us a note to let us know how you are getting on.”

  “Oh, yes, of course,” Seraphina said brightening at the realization they would not be gone from her life completely. “I will most certainly do so.”

  Then it was time to depart. There was no more putting it off.

  Seraphina and Dr. Spencer waved goodbye as the Knox family carriage pulled away. The vicar had long ago collected his fee and gone back inside, leaving the newly married couple alone as the carriage containing Lady Tempest and Lady Calliope moved further and further away.

  “Come now, my dear,” Dr. Spencer said gently. “It is time for us to go home.”

  He assisted her into the carriage and when she positioned herself in the center of one of the padded seats, naively believing he would take the seat opposite her, he squished himself into the space which remained, his hard thigh pressed against hers.

  The door closed behind them, enveloping the interior of the carriage in a dim semi-light as it pulled away. Seraphina swallowed around the dryness which had formed in her throat, never had she been in such an intimate setting with a gentleman. And now, that gentleman was her husband.

  The heat of his thigh radiated along the length of hers, through the many layers of her dress and petticoats, scorching the side of her leg and upward to the apex of her thighs. A not completely unfamiliar sensation tingled in her lady parts, and she had trouble catching her breath.

  Dr. Spencer took her hand in his and slowly removed her glove. First, he gently held her wrist in his right hand and with his left he gave a tender pull to each digit, starting with the thumb, then her index finger and on down the line all the way to her pinky. With each tug on the fabric her heart beat faster and breathing became more difficult. Once he had loosened the glove from her fingers, he held her gaze as he slipped the entire garment off her hand and tucked it into his jacket pocket.

  A soft mewl emanated from her throat at the intimate act as he caressed the sensitive flesh of her hand. He raised an eyebrow in response before continuing. The butterflies in Seraphina’s stomach took flight in a turbulent whirlwind, battering her insides and heating her blood.

  He repeated the process with the glove on her other hand, using meticulous and deliberate motions to bare the flesh of her fingers to him, paying particular attention to every detail of her fingers and hands, as though they were the most precious treasures he had ever seen.

  Had he stripped her bare, it might h
ave felt less intimate. Seraphina’s breath hitched and the heat in her womanly core intensified.

  He stroked the tip of his gloved finger along the delicate center of her palm, and another moan escaped from her lips.

  Continuing his exploration of her hands, her husband stroked his thumb in lazy circles the entire surface of her palm and massaged the lengths of her fingers, all the while holding her astonished gaze with his intense dark eyes.

  “Your hands are exceptionally sensitive, are they not?”

  “I had never considered it so,” she said finding it difficult to speak in her normal tone, “but, based upon the sensations I am currently experiencing, I believe they are quite sensitive... now”

  To her surprise, a delighted smile spread across his face. “Are you always so honest?”

  “Is it not best to be honest?”

  “Absolutely, you have simply caught me off guard with your candor. I hope you will always be honest with me, particularly in regard to the way I touch you.”

  Seraphina clamped her lips together to prevent a gasp... the way I touch you... oh holy hell. She bit her lips together so as not to give voice to the unladylike language running through her head. Her heart pounded so hard in her chest, she wondered if he could hear it too. And all he’d done was remove her gloves.

  He held his hand out to her. “Now it is time for you to assist me with my gloves.”

  A heated flush moved throughout Seraphina’s body, and she believed certainly the swoon which she had anticipated earlier was about to descend upon her.

  Dr. Spencer held his gloved hand out to her. She stared down at his large strong hands which were firmly encased in the most supple of leather.

  As she continued to study his hands and contemplate the myriad of sensations coursing through her body, the words of Lady Tempest echoed in her head.

  “When I arrived at Primrose Park, as the bride of Lord Knox, I had no idea of the things that happened between a husband and a wife,” Lady Tempest had said. “And though Lord Knox was a thorough and gentle instructor, I wish I had been better informed at the time.”

  Seraphina stared at her, eyes wide. She was torn between wishing to know all of the details which had been omitted from the novels which she loved to read and feeling highly embarrassed by the topic.

  She knew about swooning, of course, as well as the longing and the yearning which were brought about by true love. But as far as those activities which took place behind the closed bedchamber door of a married couple, she had no idea.

  Yes, this was ironic, given the years she had spent at a brothel. However, Mrs. Hartpence had been determined to sell her off as a complete innocent and had therefore kept her away from any of the details of what happened in the rooms around her. She had picked up a few phrases and more than a few bits of blue language, but as far as the specifics, the information she had gathered in Lady Tempest’s novels had been the most details she learned. And that was not much. It all faded away when they got to the parts she was certain she needed to know.

  Seraphina was torn during the conversation with Lady Tempest. She was desperate to be a good wife, but she could feel scalding embarrassment covering her face at the notion of Lady Tempest sharing intimate details of her life with Lord Knox. However, Lady Tempest was determined and far be it for Seraphina to try to stop her.

  “I hope your husband is a passionate and gentle teacher,” Lady Tempest said, and Seraphina marveled at her ability to discuss such things without the slightest stammer or blush. Seraphina could hardly maintain eye contact with Lady Tempest and spent most of the time staring at her clenched hands which she held tightly in her lap.

  “The most important thing for you to remember,” Lady Tempest had said, “is for you to understand that no matter what your desires are, they are nothing to be ashamed of. Your feelings are quite natural, and your husband will wish to know all about them. He will wish to know all about you, particularly because you are so lovely.”

  “I have read about swooning and longing,” Seraphina said, “but I suspect there is more to it than that.”

  “Oh, yes,” Lady Tempest said, with a mischievous smile on her face and a glimmer in her eyes, “there is much more to it.”

  Once she had gotten over her initial embarrassment, Seraphina had been eager for Lady Tempest to explain to her how she could be pleasing to her new husband. In her eagerness she had leaned forward—the better to hear each word Lady Tempest had for her—but as she did so, she lost her balance and fell forward out of her chair, spilling tea down the front of Lady Tempest’s gown. The commotion which followed, including vast apologies from Seraphina, ended their conversation. If only she had been raised as a proper lady and had not had to learn so many things, like how to balance a cup and saucer while seated, in what had literally turned into a crash course in good manners. The matter was never addressed again, which Seraphina now regretted profoundly.

  7

  “Seraphina,” he said wiggling his fingers, “I am waiting, little wife, for your assistance.”

  “I am unsure what to do, Dr. Spencer.”

  “Well, for one thing, you are to call me Lucas, for you are my wife. Let me hear you say it.”

  The space inside the carriage compartment seemed to grow smaller and smaller. The light was dim, and Dr.—no, Lucas—loomed ever larger with each passing moment. Surely the oxygen in the enclosed space was depleting, for what else would explain the struggle she had in catching her breath? She paused, and drew in a long gulp of air, and said, “L-Lucas.”

  Addressing a man, any man, by only his first name felt incredibly improper, for Seraphina had little experience of men of her own age. And the idea of addressing any of the gentlemen of her acquaintance, including Lord Knox or Colonel St. Clair, by their first name seemed most daring indeed.

  However, once she had done as he had asked, she found the feel of his name upon her tongue to be most pleasant. From beneath her lashes she glanced up at him to gauge his reaction.

  “Thank you,” he said. “I enjoy the sound of my name upon your lips.” His eyes were quite dark and intense as he looked at her and she felt the heat of it throughout her body. An uncomfortable feeling of unsettledness permeated her body. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before and she hoped it was not the result of some cataclysmic illness.

  “Now, since you have been so obedient in speaking my name aloud as I asked, I hope you will comply with my earlier request to assist me in removing my gloves.”

  “I wish to comply, Lucas,” she said, feeling more comfortable speaking his name aloud, “but I am unsure how to do so. I apologize, for I am truly unsophisticated in such matters. I hope I am not a disappointment to you.”

  “Of course you are not a disappointment to me, Seraphina. I find your lack of knowledge and experience in certain matters to be utterly delightful. Allow me to assist you.”

  He took her hand in his and guided her fingers to his opposite hand where he moved her palm slowly and thoroughly over the exterior of his glove as well as across his palm until their fingers were pressed together. Seraphina took in the sight of her small hand against his much larger one and marveled at the inherent strength of him.

  “It is very important,” he said guiding her fingers to the points of his, “to loosen the glove carefully at the tip of each finger.” And as he spoke, he assisted her to do exactly as he had described, moving from his thumb to his index finger and all the way across his hand just as he had done for her. And when all of the fingers had been loosened, he let go of her hand. “There, I believe you can complete this task on your own.”

  Seraphina felt like a silly goose, it was not as though she had never seen a man’s hands before and yet the simple act of removing her husband’s glove had filled her with a heated longing that nearly frightened her. Wishing only to please him, she complied with his request, gathering her nerve to continue. Taking hold of one of the loosened fingertips, she gave his glove a tug and it came off in her
hand. She released the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding in a slow exhale.

  With one hand bared, he held out the other to her. “You did that absolutely wonderfully, my wife. You are a quick learner. I am sure you can do the same with this hand.”

  Mesmerized, Seraphina studied her husband’s hand. His fingers were strong and his palm was broad, it seemed his hands contained gentleness as well. He was a doctor, after all, and she imagined these hands had saved lives. Given comfort. Provided support in difficult times.

  “Are you feeling all right, my bride?” Lucas said, his voice a gentle whisper. “You would appear to be having trouble breathing.”

  “I... yes, I am,” she said, “I do not understand the cause of it. But my body is warm all over and there is a fluttering in my tummy which will not stop.”

  “Is that so?” he said, a smile touching the corners of his mouth. “Are you feeling any other unusual sensations?”

  “No,” she said looking away.

  With his un-gloved hand, Lucas rested his finger under her chin and tipped her face so she looked into his eyes. “Did we not just have a discussion about the importance of candor?”

  “Yes, we did. But it is too shameful for me to discuss with you the feelings I am having. They are quite confusing to me, but my suspicion is that they are rather unladylike.”

  “Oh my,” he said. “And do you have unladylike sensations often?”

  “It has only happened one or two other times in my entire life. It was when I was,” she paused gathering the courage to make her confession, “when I read novels.”

  “And did those novels contain romance and love scenes?”

  “Why of course they did,” she said. “Is that not what novels are about?”

  “Well, I cannot say for sure,” he said. “For I do not do a lot of reading of novels. But I am given to understand many young ladies enjoy reading them. However,” he tipped his head so he was looking even more intensely into her eyes, which made her slightly nervous, though she could see the corners of his mouth turning up in a teasing smile which gave her reason to relax, “now we are married, I hope to have love and romance in real life, is that agreeable to you?”