Kiss the Wallflower: Books 1-3

by Gill, Tamara

  Louise bit her lip, unsure if she had it in her to do such a thing. Of course she’d been told her looks were tolerable by her aunt, but she wasn’t a fool to think she was a rare beauty, a diamond of the ton such as Lady Clara was.

  But if the marquess was not interested in her, perhaps she ought to show him that there were gentlemen who were. He deserved a little payback after his treatment of her family this afternoon. “Very well, we’ll try it for a week or so and see what happens.”

  “Good,” the duchess said, leading her into the fray. “Let us begin.”

  Luke wasn’t sure what was afoot, but all that he did know was that his wife had become the most fashionable, most sought-after woman in London. After the altercation at the park with Lady Clara, Louise had pulled away from him completely.

  No longer did she accompany him with her siblings on their riding lessons. He’d been surprised when her brother had been open to continuing the lessons, and it humbled him a little that he was able to forgive his lapse in sticking up for the boy’s family.

  He glanced across the room at those who were listening to the famous soprano, Elizabeth Billington. His wife was seated near the front with the Duchess of Carlton whom he’d also noticed was keeping well away from him these days. Her friendship had cooled, and he hated that his error had caused a rift between them all.

  What was worse, now his wife attended events without him, going so far as to not even notify him that she was heading out and the talk at his club was that the rogues and libertines had noticed his inattention once again toward her and were sniffing about her skirts.

  His eyes narrowed on his wife as she leaned over to the duchess, saying something before they both chuckled. Lord Stopford sat beside her, up to his old tricks again it would seem. The gentleman’s arm sat across the back of his wife’s chair and made the blood in Luke’s veins simmer.

  What did he think he was about, seating himself so close to his wife? He had one of his own at home, why did he not go pay court to her?

  Viscount Anson sidled up to him, a wine in his hand. Graham nodded in welcome, before turning his attention back to his wife.

  “I should congratulate you in your recent nuptials with the lovely Miss Grant. I must admit to being uncommonly stupid and blind to her loveliness prior to her marriage. You’re a lucky man, Graham.”

  Luke glanced sharply at him. Did the man have a death wish? Not that he’d said anything overly crude, but the implication was there that he’d seen her now and his interest was piqued.

  “Thank you,” he said, keeping his reply as short as possible. “And how is Lady Anson, may I ask?”

  A grin quirked his lordship’s lips, but his attention did not move from Louise.

  Cad!

  “She is well, and Lady Graham is also very beautiful, with a quick wit about her I like. But I suppose you know that already.”

  Luke ground his teeth. No, he bloody well didn’t know that and he ought to be horse-whipped for not getting to know his wife more. But to get to know her meant caring more than he wanted to. Showing an interest when he didn’t want to be interested at all. He didn’t want a family, one that could be ripped out from under him at any moment. If he kept them all at arm’s length, when disaster did strike, as it always did in his estimation, he would not be as devastated as he had been upon losing his mother, father and little sister.

  “Of course,” he lied. He didn’t speak for a moment, annoyed at Lord Anson and himself for his lack of attention when it came to Louise. He should know that she was funny, what made her laugh. What she was interested in. Instead, his fear of growing attached to her had made her a stranger to him.

  He would try to make an effort while also keeping guard of his heart. It wasn’t impossible to do. He’d never been a man to lose his head over a chit, there was little reason why he would with his wife. One could be present, know all the facets of one’s spouse while keeping one’s emotions out of the mix. Surely this was possible.

  Luke turned his attention back on his wife and stilled when Lord Stopford’s thumb brushed her bare shoulder. A red haze dropped over his vision when she didn’t make an effort to remove his hand from her person, merely turned to him, talking as if nothing was amiss.

  The hell there wasn’t anything amiss.

  The opera singer came to the end of her song and the gathered crowd clapped, standing and dispersing about the room. Luke didn’t move, and Lord Anson moved away, thankfully, to a group of people who actually wanted to talk to him.

  His wife turned in his direction, smiling, and he watched as that pretty smile faded when she spotted him. The duchess glanced in his direction also, dismissing him no sooner as she’d spotted him. As for Lord Stopford, he merely grinned, the amusement in his eyes telling Luke all he needed to know about the fiend and what he was up to. It hadn’t been the first time his lordship had seduced a fellow peer’s wife, but hell would freeze over before he’d allow Louise to be one of them.

  He didn’t move, simply watched to see what Louise would do and an emotion very similar to relief poured through him when she excused herself and made her way over to him.

  As she came nearer, he leaned down and kissed her cheek, unsure where the show of affection came from, but not sorry that he’d done so. She was his wife, and she was under his protection. He ought to remember that more often when troublesome debutantes sought to insult her in front of him and the ton.

  She glanced at him in surprise before taking his arm and standing beside him. “I did not know you were going to attend tonight. We could’ve shared a carriage if that were the case.”

  He placed his hand over hers on his arm, holding it there. “Your maid told me of plans for this evening, and I’ve always enjoyed a soprano and thought to attend also. We will return home together if you’re in agreement.”

  She nodded, contemplating him and he could only imagine what was going through her mind. What was he up to? Which wasn’t much different from his own muddled thoughts. It was no secret that he’d not wanted to marry the woman beside him, or any woman for that matter, but now that he had, well, she was quite lovely, in temperament and looks, and who could not be a little proud to have such a woman on his arm?

  “I would like that.”

  They stood in silence a moment before Luke broached the subject that had been plaguing him for days. “I owe you an apology, Louise.”

  “You do?”

  He wasn’t sure if that were a question or answer and he glanced down at her, his lips twitching at the amusement he read in her twinkling blue eyes.

  “I do. For not telling Lady Clara the other day in the park to go to Hades. I should never have asked your brother to apologize, and I should have demanded her ladyship leave. It will not happen again.” And it would not. Never would he allow another to insult his wife. He’d been a bastard to have allowed it in the first place.

  She smiled at him and something in his chest tightened. “Thank you, Luke. And may I say, that from this moment on, we start afresh.”

  “I would like that also.”

  The evening passed pleasantly after that, and even the Duchess of Carlton was warmer to him, similar to how it used to be between them prior to his marriage to her friend. Their hosts offered supper for those who wished to stay.

  Luke sat with Louise and the Duke and Duchess of Carlton and listened to their escapades during their childhood. That Louise had been sent away to be the duchess’s companion at such a young age didn’t sit well with Luke. She’d only been a child. Thrown into a world that was unknown to her and without the support of family. Much like himself. A marquess before the age of eight and thrown into a world that no longer housed his parents or sister.

  “Did you miss Sandbach when you left? Eight is very young for one to be taken from those they love.”

  Louise glanced at him, shrugging a little, but in her eyes he could see the pain of that day lingering in the shadows. She may have been accepted well and loved in the duchess
’s childhood home, but it was still not her family. No matter how much she may have tried to make it so.

  “Of course. I was sent away only weeks after mama and papa had passed away. Sophie and Stephen were only babies really, and I will admit to feeling very lost and unwanted for a time by my aunt. I thought that I had done something wrong. But Mary,” she said, reaching for her friend’s hand, “helped me laugh again, and I’ll forever be grateful for that. I did go home when I could to visit my siblings, and I wrote to them every week. I wanted them to know me, you see. To not forget me. I cannot tell you how pleasant, how very satisfying it is that they’re with me now. I suppose I have you to thank for that,” she said, chuckling a little.

  “Me?” he asked? “How so?”

  Louise took a sip of her wine, grinning. “Well, if you hadn’t stumbled into my room, I would be in York and my siblings would still be in Cheshire.”

  Heat rose on Luke’s cheeks, but despite himself, he found himself laughing. “I suppose I owe you an apology for that lapse as well.”

  “Apology accepted.” She wrapped her arm about his and he didn’t pull away from the contact. In fact, he realized with no amount of shock that he liked having her be tactile with him.

  He liked her.

  Luke watched as their little party continued to talk and laugh. She had the sweetest laugh and smile when animated and happy. He wanted to see more of her in this way. The thought a few weeks ago would’ve been preposterous, scary even, but all he felt right at this moment was happy.

  Louise took Luke’s hand as he helped her into the carriage. The blinds had been drawn in the equipage due to the night having a decided chill. Heat bricks had been placed on the floor for them and once they were on their way, it was a cozy place to spend the next few minutes before they reached home.

  She pulled her cloak tight about her shoulders, the warmth from the heat brick soothing under her slippers, just as the evening had been also. Tonight Luke had been attentive, amusing and willing to be by her side, act the husband that he now was. After the terrible situation at the park she’d not thought there was much hope for their marriage, but after tonight she wasn’t so certain that was the case.

  He had tried and that was better than nothing.

  He watched her from the seat across from hers, their knees touching every so often with the movement of the carriage. Her mind pulled up memories of the one and only night he’d come to her bed. Of how at least there they had fumbled along very well indeed.

  Other parts of her warmed at the thought and glancing at him, his cutting jaw, perfect nose and dark, hungry gaze left her breathless. What was he thinking right at this moment? If it were anything like her own wayward thoughts all she could imagine was what it would be like to be taken in his arms again.

  Her week of playing up to the attention gentlemen of their set had bestowed upon her seemed to have worked. Tonight, certainly, Luke had looked like he’d been ready to kill Lord Stopford when he’d seen her with him. That his lordship had played into her little plan of making him jealous, to make him take notice of her, his wife, couldn’t have been more perfect if she’d actually asked him to play a part.

  “Lord Stopford was very familiar with you this evening.”

  His deep voice thrummed through her and she met Luke’s dark eyes. Lord Stopford was the last person she wished to be speaking about. “Was he? I didn’t notice.”

  His eyes stole over her, and Louise shivered as if he’d physically run his hands over her person. Her body ached to have his touch once more, to have his clever hands trace her breasts, to feel his mouth and tongue.

  She shifted on the seat, unable to look away from him.

  “I don’t want anyone touching you again. You’re mine, and I do not share, my lady.”

  Louise bit her lip, wondering where this change of heart had come from. Only a few weeks ago he’d not wanted a marriage at all. Certainly he’d not wanted her even under the same roof as his lordship. And now he was being all possessive. She could only hope that it would mean he was willing to make their marriage work.

  “I did not think you’d mind a caress here or there. There was nothing sinister in it.” She was baiting him, she knew it, but she could not help herself. He’d maintained his distance from her for so long, that if he did not show some sort of emotion, she would scream. He guarded his heart like it was cast in iron—an impossible fortress to breach.

  “No one touches you.”

  She scoffed, glancing out the window. “Someone has to. You certainly do not.”

  The marquess reached out and clasped her arm, hoisting her onto his lap. She sat across his legs, and his arm came about her back, clasping her waist and pinning her against him. “You want to be touched, Louise?”

  Heat pooled at her core at his words. She found herself nodding in reply, unable to form words at present. His dark orbs glinted with a promise of something naughty and she bit her lip, wanting more than anything for him to touch her just as he said.

  He kept his eyes locked with hers as his hand slid down her leg, clasping the hem of her gown and sliding it up towards her waist. Air kissed her stockinged legs, and she sighed when he pushed her knees apart a little. Still, his hand slid farther up her thigh until he touched her, there…

  Oh yes, this was what she wanted. She wanted love, to feel wanted and needed. Not only in life, but during these moments as well. Private moments between a married couple. His finger slid over her mons, flicking the little nub with his thumb as his fingers delved farther, stroking and teasing. Louise reached up and clasped his shoulders, turning herself a little in his arms.

  “I want you,” she gasped as he circled her nubbin. “Please.”

  Luke groaned and kissed her. Hard. Her sweet mouth opened to him and so too did her legs. They lay open, exposing her sweet heat. He pushed two fingers inside her, wanting to see her come apart in his arms. But he didn’t want to take her here, he would find his own pleasure when they were home, in bed where he could savor the time alone.

  He picked her up and placed her on the seat she’d just vacated. She made a little sound of protest that made his cock as hard as stone. Damn it, when had she become so damn delicious?

  He pushed up her skirts, needing to taste her. Have her come apart on his face. She didn’t shy away from his actions and it only made his need for her stronger. He kissed his way up her leg, biting her stocking-clad thigh. Her legs slipped over his shoulders, and ripping open her pantalettes he paused at the delectable view of her mons before him.

  She was wet and ready and he kissed her there. Her fingers spiked into his hair as she relaxed into his ministrations. Damn she tasted sweet and he laved at her, flicking her little nubbin with practiced perfection.

  She mewled, pushing against him and taking her pleasure against his tongue. He ached with need of her, and he contemplated fucking her. Having her here as well as in his bed later tonight.

  Luke pushed two fingers into her heat and she gasped, rocking on his hand and mimicking sex. It was too much and he pulled away, ripping open his front falls. He wrenched her to the edge of the seat and sheathed himself inside of her in one thrust.

  A half gasp, half moan escaped them both. He clasped her about her lower back, and the top of the seat, holding her as he pumped into her tight core.

  “Damn it, Louise. You’ll undo me.”

  She moaned, a small satisfied smile upon her lips. “Don’t stop.”

  There was little chance of that. He thrust deeper, his need overriding the fact he was taking his wife in the back of a carriage, like a common strumpet, and yet never had it ever felt so right. He wanted to bring her pleasure, to be the only one who did, today and every day going forward.

  She clutched at his hips, her eyes bright with need. He knew the feeling well.

  “Let go,” he said, lifting her a little to go deeper, to stroke her well.

  Her eyes widened and she threw her head back as she came apart in his arms. Spasm a
fter spasm clutched and pulled against his cock and he was powerless not to follow her into bliss. He came hard, let her milk him of every last drop of his seed. He took a calming breath as he slid from her, flopping to sit next to her on the squabs.

  She curled into his side and he held her close. Her breath was as ragged as his, and he stared at the ceiling of the carriage, wondering where the hell that overwhelming need to make her his, to ensure him she was his and no one else’s came from.

  That complexity he’d think on another time. Right now, he couldn’t think straight if he tried. He glanced down at her flushed face, a satisfied smile upon her lips and he couldn’t regret being with her. Couldn’t regret that he’d married her.

  But what did that all mean? He reached down and adjusted her gown, settling the skirt back about her legs before buttoning up his own breeches. The carriage rocked to a halt before their townhouse and he helped her down, following her into the house.

  He needed to think, and yet he couldn’t seem to think straight when he was around Louise. There was something about her that disarmed him. Her compassionate nature by far was one of the best things about her, not to mention they rubbed along well enough when alone.

  But he didn’t want a wife, right? Or perhaps he’d just not met the right woman. Until now.

  He followed her up the stairs and instead of letting her go into her room, he pulled her along into his and shut the door on the world. Shut the door on his muddled thoughts and simply allowed himself to be with her. Enjoy her, and push down the fear that if he allowed himself to grow attached to his wife, it would rip his heart out. That she would always be safe.

  Alive.

  He kissed her hard and tumbled them both onto the bed. No time like the present to lose himself in her and ignore his fears.

  Which was starting to be a fear of losing.

  Her.

  Chapter 12