“You have not seen me, but you have touched me. Shall that suffice?”
He barked out a surprised laugh as he released her hair to move his touch down her arms, taking her hands and lifting her off the stool. He placed her right hand inside his jacket on his waistcoat, directly over his heart. “I told you it beats only for you. Feel its racing rhythm.” Her fingers flexed slightly and he drew in a sharp breath. “You undo me, Juliet. Your words this morning, knowing you prepare for our wedding . . . the power you hold over me astounds.” He ran a fingertip up to her brow then dropped it to trace the line of her jaw. She reached up with her free hand and took his larger one in hers, cupping it to bring his palm to her lips. She placed a warm kiss in its center and he sucked in another unsteady breath. Gently she lowered his hand to her neck, placing it over her thundering pulse.
“As mine beats for you. Feel its racing rhythm,” she whispered. He marveled briefly at the likeness of their reactions.
“I'm going to kiss you now, sweetheart. Not the way I will kiss you later when we make our vows before God and man, but rather exactly the way I will kiss you tonight, when we are alone as man and wife.” Juliet sucked in a breath and unconsciously licked her lips, the sound magnified in his sightless state. He groaned as he pictured the sight of her tongue darting out between her lush lips. “Do that at the church and I may well kiss you such as this there as well,” he growled as his head lowered to hers.
The meeting of their lips was explosive and fevered, mouths straining against each other. Jonas slanted his head, his tongue lightly tracing the seam of her lips. She opened her mouth in response and tentatively met his tongue with her own in a dance that was both innocent and provocative. He deepened the kiss, sweeping in to claim her mouth with passionate possession. Juliet moaned and his mind exulted that she wanted him as much as he did her.
Juliet dug her fingers into his forearms and clung for dear life, her legs suddenly declaring they would no longer offer her support. This was how one was meant to be kissed, she thought. This was how it felt to kiss the one you love. She felt a warmth rush over her entire body and raised her arms to twine them around his neck. She buried her hands in the thick but soft hair on the back of his head, pressing her body to his from chest to thigh. She wanted to be as close as possible, to feel each breath he took, every move his muscles made.
Jonas broke their kiss, cupping her face in his hands as he rested his forehead to hers. Suddenly the door burst open, admitting both of their mothers, their expressions startled as they saw first him and then his blindfold. Jonas chuckled slightly at having been caught.
“I should have suspected just such an occurrence, but still I am baffled. I would have presumed your note enough,” his mother admonished. Jonas' brows raised in surprise over the cloth hiding his eyes. “You cannot be here. There is much to do and little time before the ceremony.”
“At least he cannot see her,” Juliet's mother offered. “There is that.”
“They were in my room when your letter arrived and my aunt snatched and read it aloud despite my protests. I could do nothing to prevent it,” whispered Juliet in explanation. He turned his head to glare at the unwanted guests before realizing the futility of the gesture.
“Juliet may dress in a sack and I would gladly make her my vow,” he grinned wolfishly. “As it is, however, I am leaving.” He dropped his head back to Juliet, brushing his nose to hers, knowing her exact proximity to him as he never released her from his grasp. “I love you,” he whispered for her ears only.
“I know,” she replied with a husky breath that hardened his entire body anew with desire. “I know.”
Chapter Fifty-Five
Now join your hands, and with your hands your hearts.
William Shakespeare, Henry VI, Act 4, Scene 6
Lady Juliet Quinn entered the tiny church of St. Nicolas near Pevensey on the arm of her father. With the morning sun at her back, her gown of silver silk blazed, giving her an ethereal glow. Her sleeves of silver tulle sat at the very edge of her shoulders, the fabric waterfalling down over her upper arms with pointelle cuts. The bodice was done in the current empire fashion and trimmed with a ribbon of darker silver embroidered with tiny crystals that matched the crystals stitched across the squared neckline of her décolleté. Excess material gathered in soft pleats at the back of her dress, between her shoulder blades, to fall in a layer of shimmering silk and form a short train. The crystal and embroidery accent continued in a straight line down the front of her skirt to wrap around the hem at the bottom with each facet catching the light and seeming to glow. Juliet's slippers peeked from her skirts with each step, their color an exact match to her dress. Her bonnet of silver silk was intricately pleated and featured a small brim that framed her face to perfection. A ribbon fashioned from the same silver tulle of her sleeves decorated her hat before meeting in a bow tied jauntily askew beneath her chin. A small and delicate reticule of shimmering silk fell daintily from Juliet's wrist to complete her bridal ensemble.
A collective gasp swirled through the church as the stunning bride traveled the aisle, her cheeks slightly pink, her smile beauteous, and her eyes bottomless pools of silver mercury. Jonas took in a deep breath as he marveled over his good fortune. “Steady on, brother,” chuckled the Marquis of Stafford with a supportive hand to Jonas' shoulder. “You don’t want to swoon and miss any of this, do you?”
Jonas gave a small laugh before recollecting his composure, although he grinned with boyish delight, the deep set of his dimples illustrating his pleasure at the sight of his bride. Juliet raised a quizzical brow, but upon seeing the whispering of the Marquis and his devilish grin she knew he had spoken something to ease the nerves of the moment. She smiled widely at Stafford, and nearly laughed aloud at the stunned expression that crossed his face.
“Good Lord, man! I may swoon if she looks at me like that again,” Stafford joked.
“She smiles at you because she knows you speak folly to ease me, despite her not having heard the words. Now the way she smiles at me, when her eyes turn molten, now that is a sight that begs for a swoon,” Jonas murmured quietly.
“Good thing she reserves such looks for her you, my friend. We mere mortals would scarce survive.”
“Just so.”
Jonas looked over every inch of Juliet with a heated regard as she arrived to stand on his left. She knew his pleasure as she saw his eyes color from icy blue to cobalt, their dark outer ring becoming more pronounced as his satisfaction grew. It was an intoxicating notion to discover the depth of his desire for her, doubly so when she knew it mirrored her feelings for him.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God . . .” the Reverend Handley began, his strong and steady voice not diminished by his advancing age. Juliet planned to listen to the familiar words but found her mind soon wandering. From the corner of her eye she surveyed her soon-to-be husband. He wore a coat of jet black superfine expertly tailored to his build, emphasizing his broad shoulders, strong arms, and trim waist. His cravat was a simple oriental with a diamond pin at its center knot. To her surprise and delight, the embroidery on Jonas' waistcoat mimicked hers in color and style, although without the crystal embellishments. Waistcoat, shirt, and cravat were all blindingly white and set off superbly against his dark coat and inexpressibles. Juliet saw his stockings and shoes and could not hold her smile, knowing he much preferred his tall boots to the delicate footwear he now wore.
She finished her perusal and raised her gaze to his face and caught her breath when she saw his focus fixed on her as well. Their eyes met and she saw the desire once again flare, which she now recognized and returned. Time stilled as Juliet lost herself in his fiery stare. A repeating, grating noise broke their concentration on each other and they turned their heads in unison to the vicar, clearing his throat in effort to gain their attention.
“Pardon, Your Grace, but I will continue: Who giveth this Woman to be married to this Man?” he repeated
. Juliet's father snickered under his breath as he relinquished his daughter's hand to her betrothed. Jonas gave a sheepish grin as a light tittering traveled through the Nave. Jonas followed the subsequent instructions and took Juliet's right hand in his, repeating the vicar's next words.
“I Jonas take thee Juliet to my wedded Wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, til death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth.”
They loosed their hands so Juliet could take up Jonas' right hand in hers in a likewise manner and repeat her vows.
“I Juliet take thee Jonas to my wedded Husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, til death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth.”
Jonas glanced at Stafford and took the ring from his outstretched hand, placing it on the Book. The Reverend Handley then returned the ring to Jonas. The Duke cleared his throat and took Juliet's left hand in his, placing the ring, a stunning sapphire solitaire surround by diamonds, on her third finger. Holding her newly-adorned hand tightly, his fingers lightly tracing the ring, he began.
“With this Ring I thee wed,” he recited, looking deeply into her eyes. “With my Body I thee worship,” he continued, his gaze dropping to her lips. She nervously moistened them with her tongue and the color in his eyes blazed as he brought his gaze back up to hers. “And with all my worldly Goods I thee endow: in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.” He raised her hand to his lips and placed a gentle buss to her ring before turning her hand over to place a searing kiss on her palm. Juliet's breath caught audibly as she swayed slightly on her feet, moving ever closer to the Duke.
The vicar's gentle 'ahem' broke the spell and he indicated the couple should kneel. After delivering the wedding prayer he addressed the couple directly. “Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder.” The older man smiled warmly at the couple he had known for the majority of their lives then turned to charge the gathered guests. “Forasmuch as Jonas and Juliet have consented together in holy Wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth each to the other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving of a Ring, and by joining of hands; I pronounce that they be Man and Wife together, In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
The Reverend Handley continued on with his formal blessing and the reading of Psalm 67, then turned to the kneeling couple for their responsive reading. “Lord, have mercy on us,” he intoned.
“Christ, have mercy on us,” they replied.
The reading progressed to the declaration of the Duties of Man and Wife but again Juliet's mind wandered, though the subject of her thoughts was aligned with the minister's words. She was married – a wife – and she trembled slightly at the joy that sliced through her as she dreamed of spending her days and nights with this man by her side: making decisions, raising children, running a household, and caring for their staff and tenants. Just as her knees began to complain of their bent position the vicar moved in front of her to bestow her first communion after marriage. The beauty and privilege of the sacred act was very moving and she felt tears gather in her eyes.
Upon the completion of the holy ordinance the couple rose from their kneeling position and accompanied the vicar and parish clerk to the vestry to sign the Register. The couple averted their gaze from the Chancel in the time honored tradition of the area as it was commonly known that the room was often used to store smuggled goods.
“Well, Your Grace, this will be the final time you shall sign your name as such,” murmured Jonas, his warm breath fanning the tendrils of hair that brushed her ear as she wrote 'Lady Juliet Quinn' with less than her usually precise hand.
“True,” she mused, turning to focus on the group of well-wishers crowding the vestibule, doors, and courtyard. A wistful look flitted across her face but she continued speaking before Jonas could question its cause. “Today is the last day I shall do many things as once I did. 'Tis strange how little sadness that thought brings. I supposed I am much too focused on all the new things I shall be trying today instead,” she finished with a meaningful glance to her husband, her lips lifting wickedly. Jonas straightened immediately, grasping her arm at the elbow and ushering her through the effusive crowd. They acknowledged each congratulation with a gracious nod or a quick word, but did not pause for conversation. A secret smile adorned Juliet's face while a look of adoration for his bride covered the Duke's. Many observers remarked that marriage already seemed to be most becoming to His and Her Grace.
Upon reaching the carriage, which had been decorated with flowers and ribbons to mark the occasion, the Leightons turned back to address the crowd.
“Please join us at Edgecliff for the wedding breakfast,” shouted the Duke to the assembled throng. “We shall make you our greetings on your arrival,” he announced before turning to hand Juliet into the coach. Soon the door shut and they began to move.
“Whyever did you choose a closed carriage? The weather is very accommodating this day; an open ride would have been lovely,” she remarked.
“Yes, but our open curricle would not have accommodated the lewd acts of the Duke toward his Duchess,” he growled lasciviously as he crossed the carriage to share her seat. He reached to pull her into his arms but Juliet prevented his progress with a hand to his chest.
“You mean to shock me, I'm sure, but you may not wrinkle my gown,” she teased before a look of satisfaction transfixed her face. “You said 'our curricle.' All things are truly 'ours' now, are they not? I had no idea my heart would leap with pleasure to hear such a simple word.”
Jonas was once again stopped short as he beheld the beauty of the woman who was now his alone. He reached out to stroke a finger across her cheek. “Yes, my lady wife, all is ours. Neither of us shall refer to things in a singularly possessive way again, save one.” He pulled her close without resistance and ran his hands down her arms and thighs then back up to grasp her waist tightly. “Mine,” he emphasized with a squeeze. “You. Are. Mine.”
“And you are mine, Your Grace,” she returned before further words were smothered under the melding of his hot mouth to hers.
Epilogue
No sooner met but they looked, no sooner looked but they loved, no sooner loved but they sighed . . .
William Shakespeare, As You Like It, Act 5, Scene 2
Juliet slowly awakened and stretched contentedly under the warm covers. Based on the low level of light peeking between the curtains she judged the hour to still be early. She snuggled back into the hulking warmth at her back and was rewarded with the tightening of her husband's arms around her.
My husband, she thought with a small sigh. She smiled and turned gently in the cocoon of his embrace and studied his features as he slept, taking a silent inventory and debating whether she should wake him. She had a request to make of him yet dreaded to bring up the subject of his sister and marriage. His hair was tousled and his impossibly long lashes rested against his cheeks. She pulled her hand up to lightly trace his strong profile. “Jonas,” she whispered softly, her finger moving to gently tap his stubble-darkened jaw.
His arm tightened but he gave no further indication of awakening. “Jo – nas,” she intoned a little more loudly. She moved her finger to play with his bottom lip. “Wake up, Jonas.”
The Duke's lips twitched slightly but he took a slow, even breath to give the impression he still slept. In reality, he had known the moment she had roused. When she drawled his name, her voice still thick and husky with sleep, coupled with her light touch, he had nearly given in to opening his lids. He loved the sound of his name when she spoke it, the lilt of her voice always making it sound like a verbal caress. He moved his hand slightly on her hip b
ut kept his eyes shut, waiting for her next move.
Hmm. Juliet considered nestling back in his arms and letting sleep reclaim her but she knew she needed to broach the subject of Miranda sooner rather than later. Having arrived back at their London townhouse only the previous day, it had not taken long for reality to intrude on the past weeks that were their honeymoon. And while married just a month, Juliet was already aware her husband was quite amenable to her suggestions when made in the morning. Hopefully this amenability would extend to a discussion of his sister. She raised up, propping the side of her head on the palm of her hand while resuming her trace of his jaw with the other.
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