“About this, yes,” he said finally.
“Have…” She looked away quickly, then seemed to collect herself and faced him again. “Have I ruined things?”
He kissed her gently. “Not possible.”
“Then please don’t stop.”
Pure, unadulterated need shot through him. “I have no intention of stopping.”
He tried to go slowly, draw out every drop of joy from this moment. Tonight would be the first of many more nights together, but he would do everything in his power to make it special for her. To imprint himself on her mind and body, just as she was doing to him. Every moan, every tentative touch, only served to increase his need for her.
He used his hands and his mouth, helping her to reach her peak twice before he finally entered her. When he did, it took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to rut on her like an animal. Rose had played the vixen many times, but his instincts had proven correct. She was untouched, and he hated that he’d caused her even a moment of pain.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured before kissing her again.
“No,” she said, and he stilled, pulling away to look down on her. She touched his cheek, cupping it, a look of wonder on her face. “Never apologize for this.”
Words failed him, and so he started moving then. She let out a breathless “oooh” of sound, dropping her hand to clutch at his shoulder. Her other hand grasped his backside, urging him to go faster.
It was over far too quickly, but at least he hadn’t embarrassed himself. He’d held out until she reached her peak.
As he drifted off to sleep, a content and sleepy Rose clinging to him, he had a startling moment of clarity.
If he wasn’t careful, he could find himself breaking all his carefully constructed rules for this woman by allowing her into his heart.
Bliss, pure and simple, settled over Rose. She didn’t think she’d be able to move from her position even if she wanted to. She lay snuggled up against Brantford, her head on his chest while he held her. One warm hand gripped her arm, the other smoothed up and down her back.
“Brantford?”
The hand on her back stilled and Rose held her breath, wondering if her husband would pull away from her. Finally, after several seconds, he continued stroking her.
“Yes?”
She lifted her head and looked directly at him. “What is your given name?”
For a moment, she thought he wasn’t going to tell her. Then, finally, he said, “Lucien.”
“Lucien.” She allowed the name to settle in her mind, enjoying the way it rolled off her tongue. She knew it meant light, and she realized that was what he was to her. Her light in the darkness, guiding her through the murky chaos her life had become. “I like it.”
“No one calls me by it.”
“Not even your sister?”
“Especially not my sister.”
His vehemence surprised her. “Why not? She’s older than you, and you only inherited your title after your father passed away. It would be natural for her to call you Lucien when it is just the two of you alone together.”
He pressed a hand to the back of her head, guiding her back down to rest on his chest. She thought the conversation was over and was just drifting off to sleep when he said, “If you’d like, you can call me that. But only when we are alone together. I do have a reputation to maintain.”
If it was possible, Rose’s heart melted even further. They’d just shared the physical act of love, but this… Brantford—no, Lucien—was letting her into his heart. He didn’t know it, of course, and he’d couched it in terms that said he was only humoring her. But she knew he was allowing her an intimacy that no one else shared.
“Good night, Lucien,” she said, dropping a kiss on his chest before closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep.
She didn’t know if the kiss she felt him place on the top of her head was real or the beginning of a pleasant dream.
Chapter 16
Rose and Ellen entered the breakfast room together the following morning. His sister cast a sly smile in his direction, but Brantford ignored her. Ellen had taken to trying to get a rise out of him far too often of late.
He considered his wife as the two of them moved to the sideboard to fill their plates, chattering together about the weather. He couldn’t believe he’d spent the entire night in his wife’s bed, something he’d never done before with any of his lovers. But then he’d seldom seen the same woman more than once, hating how clingy they could become given the slightest encouragement. It baffled him that he had no such qualms when it came to Rose.
After the closeness they’d shared, he was reluctant to bring up the subject of her father and shatter her good spirits. But reality couldn’t be held at bay, and he was nothing if not practical.
“We need to speak to your mother,” he said when they were seated.
Rose, who’d only glanced briefly at him when she entered the room, met his gaze. There was a newfound confidence in her that he found almost irresistible. It should bother him just how easily she’d wrapped him around her finger. It seemed he was exactly like all the other men who’d vied for her attention during the season.
“I’ve started writing a letter to her, but I was interrupted. I’ll finish it today.”
Ellen let out a small snort of laughter when Rose mentioned being interrupted, and he glanced at her sharply. Surely Rose hadn’t told her what had taken place between them.
Pushing aside that uncomfortable thought, he continued. “No, I mean I need to speak to her in person about your father, and I want you to come with me. I’ve already sent word of our marriage, and I’m sure she’ll want to see you in person.”
A spark of annoyance entered Rose’s expression. “I’m not going to allow you to deposit me with her while you continue looking into this matter.”
Brantford took a sip of his tea before replying. “Perish the thought. I can only imagine what sort of trouble you’d get into on your own. No, I plan to keep you by my side where I can keep an eye on you.”
Rose’s eyes softened, and he found himself smiling at her in response. His sister’s light, tinkling laugh broke into the intimate moment that had developed between them.
“Oh, you two are simply adorable. I’ll make sure to have my things packed right away. When are we leaving?”
Brantford glared at Ellen. “You’re not coming with us.”
“But—” Rose began.
“The last thing I need is my sister watching my every move, making snide little comments about our marriage.” He barely held in a small shudder at the thought. He could tell himself that Ellen didn’t really know anything, but that would change if she accompanied them. After all, it wasn’t as though he planned to procure separate rooms for them at the coaching inn.
Ellen leaned back in her chair, the corners of her mouth lifting in a small, self-satisfied manner. “I’m sure I can keep myself occupied in town while the two of you are away. The Duke of Castlefield is still in town, after all. And don’t think I’ve forgiven you for not telling me he’d be at your wedding.”
“Leave the poor man alone, Ellen. Haven’t you already done enough?”
Rose looked back and forth between them as they spoke. “Was that who you had standing with you, Lucien? Isn’t he the man they call the Unsuitable Duke? There were all sorts of rumors about him, but I don’t believe I saw him before our wedding.”
“That’s because my evil sister has all but driven him away from polite society.”
Ellen crossed her arms and smiled. “I may have been the source of one or two small rumors… and I will claim credit for the name.”
Rose’s hands went to her mouth. “You didn’t? You’re the reason everyone calls him that?”
“Indeed,” Brantford said, feeling more than a hint of pity for the man he considered his closest friend. He’d cultivated his own moniker of the Unaffected Earl because it suited him in his dealings, but Castlefield had been branded as the Uns
uitable Duke by his sister, and it had caused him all manner of trouble. Rumors about him had sprung up seemingly overnight, and despite her protests to the contrary, he knew Ellen had a hand in most of them.
“Which rumors are true? Some of them seem to contradict each other, and I confess I’m more than a little curious.”
“No,” Brantford said, glaring at his sister. “You will not bring my wife into your machinations against the Duke. You’re bad enough on your own. Don’t you think it’s time you left him in peace?”
Ellen lifted a shoulder, but her expression didn’t change. “I won’t do anything to him. Well, nothing that would cause him irreparable harm.”
He could tell Rose was eager to ask Ellen for all the details. “I thought you didn’t engage in gossip.”
“Is it gossip if I’m speaking to the source? Surely Ellen has a reason for her actions.”
“It doesn’t matter. We’re going to be leaving tomorrow, and I thought I’d take you to visit your father later today.”
Rose was instantly diverted from discussing his sister’s schemes, but that wasn’t the reason he’d made the offer. The smile on her face was all the reward he needed.
“I thought I wasn’t allowed to see him again.”
“Not without me, no. But given the circumstances, I don’t think there would be any harm.” What he didn’t say was that he’d already put her in increased danger when they’d visited her father together. But as long as he remained by her side, she would be safe. He’d see to it.
Chapter 17
Their carriage set out early the next morning, rumbling along the streets of London. Rose tried not to worry about the reason for the outriders that accompanied them. Brantford had said he would keep her safe, and she trusted him.
The first night they’d spent together had been more than she could have dreamed of. She’d thought that perhaps it signaled a change in their relationship, but Brantford hadn’t come to her last night. If she had to provoke him to get him to pay her any kind of attention, she’d oblige. For now. But she knew it would get tiresome very quickly.
Was her husband capable of change? He’d settled back into the remote person she’d always known after their breakfast yesterday morning. At the moment, he sat opposite her in the carriage, buried behind the Times. Several more newspapers lay stacked on the seat next to him. At least he hadn’t brought any reports with him.
“Lucien?”
Brantford peered over the top of the paper. His eyes narrowed, and she knew he was trying to divine what she was planning to ask him.
“I have a question.”
He folded the broadsheet and placed it on top of the other papers. “I’d assumed as much. You don’t need to preface it.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Very funny. I was trying to get your attention first.”
“You have it.”
His gaze drifted down to the neckline of her dress and heat went through her. Was he remembering the night they’d consummated their marriage? She’d been unable to think of little else.
“Do you think the carriage driver can hear our discussion?”
Her husband raised a brow. “Over the sound of the wheels on the cobblestones? I doubt it. Why?”
She leaned forward and licked her lips. Brantford’s gaze moved from her eyes to her décolletage again before returning to her face. Rose barely contained a smile of satisfaction.
“This past spring, I heard a rumor.”
His brows drew together. “I won’t indulge in tormenting Castlefield. My sister has done enough.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Not those. I know I’ll need to speak to Ellen directly to learn why she dislikes His Grace so much.”
“Rose…” He didn’t have to voice the rest of his admonishment.
“This was an entirely unrelated tale.”
He let out a breath, which she took as a sign that she was breaking through his reserved detachment.
“Go ahead and ask, but I can’t guarantee I’ll have any answers for you.”
She frowned. He hadn’t denied that he’d know about the rumor in question, just that he might not be able to give her any more information. She knew Brantford was full of secrets, but she was fairly certain she’d be able to draw this one out of him.
“I won’t share any names because I know what it’s like to have people whispering about you. Even when the gossip is true, it still causes pain.”
He raised a brow and waited.
“It’s just that, well…” She swallowed and forced herself to continue. It was silly to be shy discussing this with her husband given what they had already shared. “There was a rumor about a certain lord and lady engaging in… intimate relations.” When Brantford didn’t reply, she continued. “In a carriage.”
His brow lowered and he remained silent for several seconds. When he finally spoke, he was his normal composed self. “What is it you wish to know? If it’s true? That would be hard to confirm without the names of the individuals in question.”
She shook her head again. “I don’t care if it’s true. I was just wondering if it was possible. I mean, in a carriage!”
Brantford’s lips curled up in amusement, a glint in his eyes causing Rose’s heart to skip a beat. “It’s definitely possible.”
She released a slow breath. An inexplicable shyness had her hesitating before she shored up her courage. “It is? Do you think… Could you show me?”
The heat that entered Brantford’s eyes at her request had her feeling like a wanton. But who was she fooling? When it came to her husband, one night had been enough to show her that she craved his touch.
Disappointment flooded through her when he turned to the window, but it was short-lived when she saw him draw the curtain. She hastened to do the same for the other window before turning to face him. He’d settled back on the bench opposite her, his eyes intent as he stared at her.
“I’d planned to give you time to adjust to the physical side of marriage.”
“Which is why you didn’t join me last night.”
“Just so,” he said with a slight inclination of his head. “I never imagined you’d be quite so… curious.”
She licked her lips again, confidence surging through her when Brantford followed the movement. She knew he wouldn’t welcome an excess of emotion, but she did want him to know how wrong he was in his assumptions. “I was disappointed when I didn’t see you.”
He continued to watch her, his normally pale eyes dark in the dim light of the carriage. She waited, knowing her patience would be rewarded. Brantford wouldn’t have closed the curtains if he meant to deny her curiosity.
After what felt like an eternity, he rose and moved to sit next to her on the bench. She shifted to look at him, desire clogging her throat at the intent way he stared at her. It was so unlike his normal demeanor, but she’d already seen this side of him when they’d consummated their marriage.
“Lucien—”
He lowered his head, cutting off whatever she was going to say when he took her mouth in a passionate kiss. Rose made an eager noise as she leaned closer and settled into his embrace. She felt the muscles shift in his arms, and her world tilted sideways before she realized his intent. She found herself seated sideways across his lap.
He leaned back and looked down at her, his eyes almost black now. “You, Lady Brantford, are dangerous.”
A shiver of delight coursed through her at the way he looked at her as though he wanted to consume her whole.
“I could say the same thing about you.”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “Indeed,” he said before lowering his head again to claim her mouth.
She was enjoying the way he seemed intent on devouring her, moving first to clasp his shoulders, then to thread her fingers through his fair hair. She marveled at how soft it was, so at odds with the hard planes of his chest and the muscles of his arms and legs.
His hands moved up and down her back, but she didn’t realiz
e what he was doing until her bodice loosened. He pushed her dress down her shoulders and then set to work on her corset. She hadn’t believed it was possible to make love in a carriage, although she’d hoped Brantford would prove her wrong. He was doing exactly that.
Anxious to feel him, she tore her mouth from his and set about unbuttoning his waistcoat. Her breathing was ragged, but so was his. He’d had a head start, and Brantford had her corset off by the time she reached the last button and started to undo his cravat. She made a small sound of distress as she fumbled with the knot, and her husband’s hands reached up to cover hers.
“Leave it,” he said.
Grumbling in response, she dragged her hands down his chest and abdomen, then taking fistfuls of his shirt, tugged the material from his trousers. She slid her hands underneath the fabric, caressing his heated skin. Brantford let out a harsh laugh.
“I’d thought to go slow.”
“I’ve been waiting months for you. I think that is slow enough.” She realized what she had revealed as soon as the words left her mouth. She looked away, embarrassed.
Brantford settled his hands on each side of her face and turned her to face him. “Months?”
He wouldn’t let her hide, so she settled for closing her eyes.
“Look at me, Rose.”
It wasn’t the demand so much as the way his thumbs were stroking over her cheeks and tracing over her lips that had her opening her eyes again. His gaze was intent, and she could almost feel him reaching into the depths of her soul.
“Yes, months. I might have had a mild infatuation with you since arriving in London at the start of the season.”
His fingers stilled, but he kept her face cradled in his hands. “You led me to believe you had feelings for someone else. I’d assumed our marriage was a disappointment to you.”
“No, it wasn’t. It was everything I’d ever dreamed of. Especially now that you are no longer keeping your distance from me.”
She wanted to tell him that she loved him, but it was too soon. Her husband almost never revealed his emotions. He wouldn’t welcome the idea of his wife mooning over him like a silly schoolgirl. She’d have to show him she was as sophisticated as the women with whom he no doubt consorted to satisfy his desires. For if there was one thing she’d learned, he was no novice in the art of lovemaking.
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