by Marie Force
He wished he could contact them ahead of their arrival, but they were still at sea on their way to New York and would be traveling upon their arrival. Though he would have no chance to give them fair warning, he had full faith in how they would react to learning that Aubrey had married the Irish housekeeper. They would see that he was delighted by her and would take up her cause. He’d stake his life on it.
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Aubrey, because if you’re wrong, this is going to be a very long summer for you and your new wife.”
* * *
Maeve could hear the two men whispering, and while she couldn’t make out what they were saying, she sensed they were arguing.
Probably about her, a thought that made her stomach ache.
She couldn’t believe Mr. Nelson had offered a hundred thousand dollars to get her out of the charges looming in Ireland. What could he be thinking offering a king’s ransom on her behalf?
She couldn’t allow him to do such a thing.
But when she considered the alternative . . .
It didn’t bear considering.
He returned a few minutes later and took the seat next to her. “Matthew will do what he can to help us.”
“To help me.”
“Us. We’re in this together now.”
“You can’t give them a hundred thousand dollars.”
“I can and I will if it’ll lead to them dropping the charges against you.”
“It’s an obscene amount of money.”
“It’s worth every penny if it ensures your safety and security.”
She shook her head, her dismay obvious.
“What is it?”
“I never imagined what would transpire when I allowed Mr. Farthington to court me. He was sweet and charming and persuasive. My father urged me to marry him because his family owns a fleet of ships and are considered quite prosperous in our area. My father desperately wanted to land the Farthingtons’ account for the bank. ‘You won’t ever do better than him,’ my father said. He was much older than me but seemed quite sincere in his affections at first. But everything about him was false, and I realized it almost immediately after we were married. The night of our wedding . . .” She swallowed hard, wiped away a tear. “When he tried to consummate our marriage, his . . . phallus . . . would not . . .”
“Harden?”
Nodding and mortified, she wiped away more tears. “He said it was my fault because I wasn’t attractive enough to make him want me. That was the first time he beat me.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because any man with a pulse would want you. Something was wrong with him. Not you. It happens to some men.”
“It does? Really?”
“Yes.” He brushed away her tears. “Really.”
“I have never heard of such a thing.”
“It’s not something men speak of as it’s a very embarrassing and frustrating situation. But I promise you that it had nothing whatsoever to do with you.”
“How can you know that for sure? Perhaps there is something wrong with me.”
He took her hand and placed it over the hard ridge of flesh between his legs. “Do you feel that?”
Maeve’s face burned with embarrassment as she tried to pull back her hand. “Mr. Nelson!”
He tightened his grip to keep her hand in place. “My name is Aubrey, and this has been a problem for me from the first instant I laid eyes on you wielding the largest feather duster I’ve ever seen. It didn’t matter to me that you were the housekeeper or that you’re Irish. All I saw was one of the most exquisitely beautiful women I’ve ever met, and I wanted you fiercely.” After a pause, he said, “Look at me, Maeve.”
She forced her gaze to meet his while knowing her mortification would be apparent in the rosy hue of her burning cheeks.
“He was the problem. Not you. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you.” Leaning in ever so slightly, he kissed her and then released her hand to put his arms around her. “Do you believe me?”
“The evidence you presented was rather convincing.”
He laughed as he caressed her face. “May I ask you . . .”
“What?” she said, feeling breathless.
“Was he ever able to . . .”
“No, and each time he tried and failed, he was more violent toward me.”
“So that means you’re a virgin?”
Her inclination was to tell him it was none of his business, but as he was her husband now, it was his business. “I am.”
Aubrey expelled a deep breath that sounded like equal parts relief and desire.
“D-does that please you?”
“It pleases me greatly. I would like to be the one to teach you about the act of love, to introduce you to the pleasure we can find together.”
“I would like to learn.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, and the heat in her face intensified when he directed a hungry look her way.
He shifted his body, drawing her attention to the bulge between his legs.
As she stared at the thick ridge of flesh, she licked her lips, fascinated by the way his body responded to their conversation.
“I believe we should retire to our chamber for the remainder of the day.”
“But there is work to be done!”
“Not by us.”
“We have so little time and much more to accomplish.”
“Tomorrow, we’ll return to work. Today, we shall celebrate our marriage.”
She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth as she thought about what he’d said and the implications of taking the rest of the day to be alone together. “The army will need supervision. They should be finishing your sisters’ rooms.”
“I’ll ask Mr. Plumber to supervise them for the remainder of the day. Where do you want them to go next?”
“The guest rooms assigned to the duke and duchess as well as the others in their party. I had them tend to the family rooms first since they will be here at the end of the week.”
“I’ll pass along your instructions and ask Mrs. Allston to serve dinner in our chamber tonight.”
At the thought of Mrs. Allston serving them dinner in their bedroom, Maeve wanted to die from the mortification.
“Go on upstairs. I’ll meet you in our suite in a few minutes.”
He got up and adjusted his coat to cover the obvious protuberance and made for the door with all due haste.
Maeve watched him go, wishing she had someone to talk to about what was going to happen. Her mother had fumbled her way through the explanation of marital relations, but Maeve still had many unanswered questions that filled her with nerves as she went upstairs to prepare for her husband.
Chapter Ten
The first thing she did was draw the heavy drapes to reduce the light in the room. It was unseemly to think of embarking on such activities in the bright light of day. Her mother had told her that marital relations happened in the dark under the bedcovers, and that was most definitely her preference. Did he expect her to be clothed or unclothed? She didn’t know, but quickly struggled her way out of her one good dress as well as the corset and into an unadorned muslin nightgown so she would be covered when he appeared.
Thinking back to the night he’d brought the cake to her room, she recalled his reaction to seeing her hair down around her shoulders and reached up to release the pins holding it in place. The heavy lengths cascaded down, and Maeve rubbed her head, which was always sore from bearing the weight of her thick hair for so many hours.
She stood before the mirror, running a brush through her hair when the door opened and then clicked shut. In the mirror, his gaze connected with hers, and as he slid the door lock into place, her heart began to beat so fast she feared she might do something embarrassing such as faint.
He went to the windows and opened the heavy brocade curtains, letting in the bright sunshine. Then came up behind her and reached fo
r the hairbrush. “Allow me?”
Maeve gave a quick nod and relinquished her hold on the brush handle to him. The rub of his skin against hers sent a shiver through her body, making her feel more alive than she ever had before.
Mr. Nelson—Aubrey—ran the brush through her hair gently, reverently, making her scalp and other parts of her tingle. Her nipples tightened and an odd sensation between her legs had her closing her thighs in an effort to contain it.
“What do you know about what transpires between a man and woman in the marriage bed?” His soft tone was in keeping with the easy strokes of the brush.
“I—I know that the man has a phallus that goes inside the woman, and that’s how they create babies.”
“That’s right.” He sounded gruffer now. “What else do you know?”
“It’s done in the dark, under the covers.”
“That’s not exactly true.” Now he sounded amused.
“You find me humorous, Mr. Nelson?”
“I find you delightful, Mrs. Nelson.”
“What did I say that amused you so?”
“That the act of love is done in the dark and under the covers. I aim to show you otherwise.”
“You aim to embarrass me terribly.”
“To the contrary, my dear. I aim to please you greatly.” Reaching around her, he put down the brush, and with his hands on her shoulders, he turned her to face him. “You’re extraordinarily beautiful, my sweet Maeve.” He placed a hot, openmouthed kiss on her neck that sent goose bumps skittering down her arms and made her backbone tingle with awareness of him. “This elegant, graceful neck was the first thing I noticed that day when I came upon you in the drawing room. I wanted to kiss it and taste it and lick it.” He did all of those things now, and only the arm he wrapped around her waist kept Maeve standing. “I’ve never been so fascinated by a neck or the person attached to it.”
“I’m not that fascinating.”
“That’s not true. You may be the most fascinating person I’ve ever met.”
“You have met dukes and duchesses.”
“They have nothing on you.”
She wanted so badly to believe him, but how could that be true? Before she ran from her former home, she’d never been more than fifty miles outside Dingle, had never seen or done anything of any interest to anyone.
“It’s true that I have met dukes and duchesses, earls and countesses, and once, I met the king, while at court with my friend the duke. I have attended university with some of the brightest minds of our time and traveled the world, but I have never once been entranced by the curve of a woman’s neck the way I am by yours. I have never wanted to get to know someone, every part of someone, the way I do you. And I’ve never actually married anyone until I married you.”
Moved nearly to tears by his kind words, she found herself believing him. If she was wrong about him . . .
“Come to bed with me, sweet Maeve. Let me show you how it should be.” He took her hand and led her as he walked backward to the four-poster bed with the lace canopy. A warm, soft breeze came in through the open window, ruffling her hair and his. Standing next to the bed, he untied his tie and unbuttoned his vest and starched white shirt, letting the fabric fall to the floor behind him.
“You don’t wear a combination?” she asked of the all-in-one male undergarment that had become popular with upper-crust men.
“I hate them. Old-fashioned drawers work fine for me.” Maeve let her greedy gaze take in her first look at his chest and abdomen. Unlike Mr. Farthington, who’d been thick through the middle, Mr. Nelson had a lean, muscular build that made her want to touch him, to explore the ridges and valleys of the muscles that covered his midsection.
“Touch me, sweetheart. Touch me anytime you’d like, anywhere you’d like. I’m your faithful servant.” He took her hand and placed it flat against his chest where she could feel the rapid beat of his heart.
Using only her fingertips, she explored his chest, the soft hair that covered it and the ropey muscles of his abdomen.
He let out a hiss that startled her. “Don’t stop. Your touch feels better than anything ever has.”
Maeve made note of the fact that the hiss was a good sound. When she reached the lower portion of his abdomen, she noticed that the tip of his hard phallus had breached the waistband of his trousers. “You . . . Your . . .”
“Cock.”
She shook her head.
“Say it.”
“I couldn’t.”
“Oh, but you can,” he said, laughing softly. “My cock is hard for you and only you, sweet Maeve.” He nuzzled her neck and combed his fingers through her hair. “Say it.”
“Your . . . your cock is hard. For me.”
“Yes,” he said, triumphant. “You must never be embarrassed or ashamed of the way we express our affection for each other or the words we use in private. They’re the words of love and desire.”
The desire she understood, because she too had felt it for him from nearly the beginning of their association. But his use of the word “love” left her feeling hollow and empty. He had done her an enormous favor by marrying her and making his considerable resources available to extricate her from a thorny dilemma. But she didn’t believe he would ever love her.
He began to unbutton his pants, moving with haste now to free himself, and when his hard . . . cock . . . sprang free, he wrapped her hand around it, letting his head fall back in apparent surrender to the sensations. “Yes, Maeve. Yes.” Tightening his hold on her hand, he stroked himself, making shameless use of her hand.
She hadn’t expected the skin there to be so soft and was fascinated when he grew harder, longer, thicker in her hand, sparking a beat of distress. How would that fit inside her?
He placed his free hand on her back and began to gather the fabric of her gown until it was traveling up her legs.
Maeve knew a moment of panic at the thought of being completely nude before him in the bright light of day.
“Easy, love,” he whispered as the fabric slid over her backside and moved up her back.
Her first impulse was to cover herself, but she couldn’t seem to move, even when the gown cleared her head and was tossed aside by her eager husband.
While she tried not to die of mortification, he took a long look at what he’d uncovered.
“You’re so exquisitely beautiful, as I knew you would be.” He eased her back onto the bed and came down on top of her, arranging her so her legs were splayed open and her feet propped at the edge of the mattress.
“Please, Mr. Nelson, this is indecent.”
“It’s Aubrey, and there’s nothing indecent about it. You’re my wife, and this is entirely appropriate behavior between a husband and wife.”
“Surely it’s not appropriate to be completely naked in broad daylight.”
His low chuckle rumbled through him. “It’s very appropriate. Be still, and I’ll show you.”
Be still? How was she to be still when he was doing . . . that? Oh dear God, were those his lips on her breast? And his tongue . . . She wouldn’t survive this.
“Mr. Nelson . . .”
“Aubrey. Let me hear you say it.”
“Aubrey.”
“Yes, love?”
Oh, she liked when he called her that. She liked it too much. “You don’t need to—” The words died on her lips and her mind went completely blank when he sucked her nipple into the wet heat of his mouth.
“I do need to.” He licked and sucked her nipple, setting off a wave of need in her so strong she nearly levitated off the bed.
He kept it up until she was certain she would go mad if he didn’t either stop or do something to relieve the relentless ache between her legs. Rather than stop, however, he switched to the other side, moving back and forth until she was delirious from the sensations cascading through her. She’d had no idea, no idea at all, that her body was capable of feeling this way.
Maeve realized he had moved down, that his li
ps were skimming over her belly and below. Surely he didn’t mean to . . . “Aubrey!” She tried to cover herself, but he pushed her arms aside.
“Leave them there.”
“You can’t . . . Not there . . . Dear God.”
His tongue and fingers destroyed what was left of her composure while his shoulders forced her legs even farther apart. How could he be licking her there? Certainly, civilized people didn’t do that. Her legs trembled violently, and she felt herself climbing toward something that remained just out of reach until he curled his fingers inside her and sucked on the tight bundle of nerves at the apex of her most private place.
Maeve screamed from the feelings that converged on her all at once—pleasure, pain, need, embarrassment and fear. If he could do that to her, she was giving him far too much power over her, power she’d never intended to surrender to him.
Pressure between her legs brought her down from the incredible high to realize he was pushing his phallus into her body and her body was resisting him with everything it had.
“Relax, sweetheart.” His lips moved over her neck and ear. “Relax and let me in.” He rocked against her, giving her a little more each time.
Maeve took a tremulous breath, trying to give him what he wanted but also keep something for herself for when this interlude with him was but a distant memory. She refused to give him everything. He could have her body, but he would never touch her heart.
“Nice and easy. That’s it.” He moved slowly and carefully, as if he were afraid to hurt her.
Right when she was becoming accustomed to the motion, a tearing pain had her crying out from the agony that gripped her.
He held himself up on his hands so he could see her face, and his dark hair slid down over his damp brow. “That was your maidenhead giving way. It shouldn’t hurt anymore.”
While that might be true, Maeve remained tense and fearful of the pain.
“Move with me, love.” He slid his hands under her bottom and squeezed her cheeks, guiding her. As he slid deeper inside her, he tugged her upward to meet his thrust. “God, yes. Like that. Just like that.”
His eyes closed, his lips parted and his cheeks flushed with heat.