Hugh tightened his arms around her. Now he was eager to heed some more sage advice: the recent counsel from Simon about enjoying his bride.
Hugh lowered his mouth to hers, and relished the way she clung to him, opening her mouth to his without hesitation. He pressed her even closer to his very aroused body. To his delight, she moved slowly against him, back and forth, as if needing even more of the contact.
His brain was filled with numerous licentious thoughts, and his body was ready to act on every one of them. Felicia appeared eager to follow wherever he might lead her. He glanced around the library, tempted to set her atop the desk so he could explore her passion further. It would not do for Felicia's first time, however. Perhaps later, once they had been lovers for a long while.
The soft sounds coming from her lips nearly drove him mad. He plucked at the edge of her bodice, but it did not give way.
"This is not proving cooperative," he murmured.
She smiled, her lips still against his. "It is the latest in chaperone design."
He gave her a mock scowl. "You have no need of chaperones now, Lady Weyson."
Her exposed skin pinkened, and she shivered, just slightly. Perhaps it was from his fingertips brushing even lower on her decolletage than previously. Or perhaps she found their playful banter as arousing as he did.
He stopped, moving back a pace so he could gather his wits—before he convinced himself they could indulge themselves right where they were.
"Hugh," she pleaded.
"Felicia—"
Just then the door opened slowly, and Lucinda peered around the corner. She was clearly excited about the upcoming excursion, and wanted to talk about what they might see and do. Hugh gave Felicia's bodice a regretful glance.
Felicia gave him a quick peck on his cheek before rushing over to chatter with Lucinda about what Astley's held in store.
Though his body was disappointed at Felicia's departure, Hugh's heart filled with more emotion than he thought he could bear, just from watching his wife entertain his daughter. Felicia continued to surprise him, in many ways, and for the first time he began to believe everything would work out as he had always hoped.
Yes, it seemed he had no cause for worry after all.
Chapter 16
It was just as dreadful as he had feared.
Hugh wanted to groan when he saw everyone's heads snap their direction, their jaws dropped in shock. He kept his eyes straight ahead as he led Lucinda and Felicia to the private box he had booked ahead of time.
Lucinda was too excited by her surroundings to notice people gawking, whispering behind their hands, or worse, turning aside with a cut direct. He gripped his daughter's hand firmly, to reassure himself more than anyone.
"Hugh," Felicia whispered, sliding her hand into the crook of his elbow. "We shall weather this."
Her words were strangely calming. He had experienced enough scandal to last ten lifetimes, but it meant nothing compared to what Lucinda might have to endure.
"Does your plan include a fast carriage and a race for the border?"
"No," she said with a laugh. "At least not yet."
He nearly sagged with relief when they finally arrived at the entrance to the private box. He ushered Felicia through, and once she was safely inside, he led Lucinda to the edge of the railing, to give her a better vantage point.
"Papa! The horses!"
Lucinda's squeals could likely be heard in the next shire, especially since the entire crowd had quieted the minute she had uttered the word "Papa".
Hugh straightened his shoulders, and somehow managed to refrain from growling at everyone staring their direction. He was not about to let anyone, not even him, spoil his daughter's enjoyment of the day.
He lifted her into his arms, holding her aloft so her view of the arena was not restricted. She turned back to say something to him, and all at once her face lit up with unabashed glee. She squealed again, only this time she squirmed in his grasp.
"Papa, look who is here."
If Felicia had not giggled just then, Hugh would have guessed the King himself had strolled in. Instead, it was the next best possibility: Felicia's brother, the Duke of Enfield.
"Lucinda, it is such a delight to see you once more." Julian sauntered into their box, and in full view of the crowds leaning to get a better look, raised Lucinda's chubby fingers to his lips. "I hope I shall be invited to another tea party in the near future. I so enjoyed our last one."
Predictably, she blushed and hid her face in Hugh's neck. In the next instant, she reached her arms out toward Julian. The man did not hesitate. He scooped her into his arms and bounced her jovially, as though he had done it for years.
Hugh could not help but laugh, watching his bachelor friend play the proud uncle, dispelling Hugh's fears for his beloved daughter.
All at once, a crowd made their way into the small confines, intent on making Lucinda's acquaintance. Julian cheerfully made the introductions, and Lucinda entertained everyone with all the grace of a miniature duchess.
Somehow a bevy of debutantes had managed to surround Felicia as well, chirping and chattering, delighted that their idol was in their midst once more.
Hugh stood outside the circle of his wife's admirers, bemused. Of all the things he had fretted about this outing, having it turn into a veritable crush had not even occurred to him.
He divided his attention between watching Lucinda's new admirers, and observing the jubilant crowd around his wife. He did not attend to the young misses' conversation—until one of them exclaimed, "Have you heard the latest on dit? Miss Lansdale has eloped!"
Hugh's gaze snapped towards Felicia, but she merely nodded and smiled at the news he found utterly surprising. When she noticed him regarding her, she gasped, a little too theatrically. "Indeed? And when did this occur?"
Hugh could not hear the answer, what with all of the women rushing to be the first to relate the specific details. He would learn more about it soon enough.
But first there were horses and acrobats for his daughter to enjoy. His eyes darted back towards his wife. He could not resist the chance to enjoy Felicia in her element as well, a prelude to later pleasures he had in mind, ones which had been delayed much too long.
He was sure she would agree.
***
Felicia settled herself in the carriage seat across from Hugh, happy with the day's outing. She was even more delighted to see Hugh lean his head against the silk cushions, a big grin splitting his handsome face, knowing she had helped chase away his worries.
"Would I be a terrible father if I admitted how glad I am Lucinda insisted on traveling home with your brother?"
"Of course not! You have earned a respite from your parental duties, especially after such a momentous day as today."
Her recent discussion with Georgiana about the amorous uses of carriages had proved most enlightening, and Felicia was impatient to experience everything she had learned. Of course, she had wisely omitted that information when she suggested Julian accompany Lucinda home.
"I cannot thank you enough," Hugh continued. "Today was much better than I had anticipated. Although it was not without its surprises."
"I knew you would be pleased with Julian's presence." She beamed at the memory of Julian proudly introducing Lucinda to everyone from starchy society matrons to baffled bachelors. "With one ducal visit, he ensured the ton would never dare to cause Lucinda harm. Now they are all completely enamored of her. As well they should be."
"Indeed. Though I was actually speaking of another surprise today."
His words were innocent enough, but his eyes roamed over her in a most deliberately naughty fashion, making Felicia's skin warm in response. If she were the sort to carry a fan, she would have fluttered it wildly, to dispel the heat filling the coach.
Instead, she quickly left her seat and sat down next to Hugh, ready to commence—
"Why did you help Miss Lansdale elope?"
Felicia choked, try
ing to turn it into a discreet cough. "How did you hear of that?"
"You do not protest it," he said with a wry grin. "You merely wonder how I discovered it."
"Hugh, she asked for my assistance, and I could not very well say no."
"And why not?"
He studied her, as if he could not comprehend why she would give aid to the woman he had once planned to wed.
Now that she thought about it, it did seem a bit beyond the pale.
"You cannot know the guilt I endured, since I am the reason her engagement ended. I had always hoped there would be some opportunity to redeem myself."
"You and redemption?" Hugh snorted. "I can hardly imagine such a combination."
She narrowed her eyes at him, only he did not appear frightened in the least. If she were not so intent on a seduction this evening, he would have earned at least one pinch for that comment. Perhaps two.
"Miss Lansdale came to me recently, and asked for my assistance. She confessed she had a tendre for someone, but because her father was intent on the alliance with you, she had not been permitted to marry the young man she loved. Once the engagement was broken off, she saw her opportunity at happiness. I was overjoyed to help her."
"Now her father has twice the reasons to be angered at me," Hugh muttered. "And Miss Lansdale has twice the backbone than I credited her with. Still, while I admire you wanting to assist the lovelorn, you cannot make it a practice."
"I do not intend to do so, Hugh." She grinned. "Unless there are even more females to whom you were once betrothed."
He gave her a mock glare.
"Great-Aunt Aurore has tried to persuade me several times to set up some sort of elopement academy. It distresses her that I am unable to make use of my vast experience. She is convinced it could be quite lucrative as well."
His shocked expression caused her to burst out with laughter.
"Felicia, your predilection for surprises will be my undoing."
"You do not like surprises? You might want to prepare yourself, since I have one planned for tomorrow, at the ball."
Hugh grimaced. "We have already won over the ton today. Must we invite them to our home as well?"
She gave his arm an affectionate squeeze. "Yes, we must. We are officially introducing Simon and Georgie. It is their first appearance as a married couple."
That made him laugh. "It is indeed strange times when a wastrel is smoothing the way in society for a rakehell."
"Former rakehell," she added with a grin. "And you know the ton is eager to see that Flighty Felicia is wed at last too."
"Without an elopement being involved."
"Precisely. And to the most notorious wastrel in London."
"Former wastrel." His eyes sparkled with mischief. "I hope you invited Lady Thornham. She insisted that marriage was what I needed to settle my wild ways, and I can demonstrate how well I have reformed."
If Felicia had her way tonight, Lady Thornham would have even more reasons to scold this former rogue.
She scooted even closer to him, wrapping her hand around his arm. "I would love to hear of your wildest exploits."
Hugh shook his head. "They are much too scandalous."
"So I must wait until you write your memoirs?"
"I have no intentions of writing my memoirs." He added a theatrical shudder, which made her smile.
"I can do it for you. I already know the rumors and the gossip. I merely need to see how much they match with the truth."
"I suspect the rumors and gossip are much more entertaining than the truth."
"So you did not wager Lord Bendringham you could cuckold him without his discovering it?"
"Of course not." His lips twisted with amusement. "Why would I suggest such a wager when he had already been cuckolded?"
"I knew it was true," Felicia gasped.
"I did not cuckold him. Though his wife did her best to persuade me otherwise."
"You mean you did not legitimately earn the title of Lord Wastrel?"
"Oh, and listen to how disappointed you sound!"
"That is not the case at all. Well," she confessed, "perhaps just a bit."
"Would you prefer a more scandalous husband?" Hugh removed his gloves, placing them on the seat next to him, and then took his time tugging her kidskin ones from her hands. "Am I too staid for your taste, Flighty Felicia?"
She watched, fascinated, as he turned her palm face up, and then traced his fingers over her bare skin, from her wrist to her fingertips.
"Hugh, do you honestly believe you could ever be staid?" Her words came out as more of a whisper, thanks to his continued caressing, and the intimate tone of his voice. "Though I will admit you have become rather stuffy these past weeks."
"I have, haven't I?"
Felicia had not expected that answer. "It's perfectly understandable," she said, determined to defend this man she loved. She brushed a strand of dark hair away from his forehead, smoothing out the frown that had taken up residence there. "You were in the market for a very different sort of wife than me, yet I foisted myself on you until you had no choice but to accept my proposal of marriage."
He brought her wrist to his lips for a long kiss. She shivered, and when he began nibbling on her skin, watching her the entire time, she nearly swooned from the abundance of pleasure.
"I love your description of events, Felicia." His lips curved into a wicked smile. "But I cannot permit you to believe, even for a moment, that I do anything unless I wish to."
She could not breathe for several moments. He continued to gaze at her with such desire, only this time he was not fighting it, not at all. He was as intent as she was to explore this riotous passion between them.
"Then I have another proposal for you."
Chapter 17
"A proposal? What might that be?" Hugh asked, surprised his voice remained steady. He was in such a heightened state from all of the intimate touches between them, the accidental brushes of Felicia's breast against his arm, the silkiness of her skin beneath his fingertips.
"I should like to spend a wicked evening with Lord Wastrel."
It was a wonder his body did not combust from the heated excitement swamping him just then. He couldn't wait to introduce Felicia to a world of undeniable pleasure.
"You have a very private audience with Lord Wastrel," he murmured in her ear. "Tell me what you desire from the scoundrel."
He kissed his way to the base of her throat, thrilled at how her breath came more quickly with each of his kisses. He placed his lips right where her pulse fluttered wildly, which aroused him more than he could have imagined.
He had expected her to respond to his question with one of her own. Instead, she tilted his head back toward the carriage cushions, then placed her luscious mouth, ever-so-slowly, on his. His first instinct was to deepen the kiss, but their carriage drive home was far from over. He could spend that time showing Felicia just how delicious the anticipation could be while they teased each other.
He nibbled at her bottom lip, tenderly, followed by a little sharper bite. She gasped, and then instantly did the same to him. He felt a spike of lust shoot through him. He was so aroused, from one brief kiss, he could only hope to outlast the minx.
He lifted her onto his lap, one arm curved around her shoulders, his other against her bottom. He smoothed his hands over her, wishing she had more skin available for him to see, though in the darkened interior of the coach, touch, not sight, was the sense they would make the most use of.
As if she was reading his thoughts, Felicia sat up and, while he held onto her waist, she maneuvered herself until she straddled him. His widened eyes caused a saucy grin to appear on her face.
"I have never been a fan of sidesaddles," she explained.
He chuckled. "Is this more comfortable?"
She nodded, and then shook her head. "My skirts—"
"Yes, I see."
He tugged until the delicate muslin was bunched up around her thighs—her beautiful, exposed
thighs, framed by the garters around her stockings. He had seen many a shapely leg in his day, but none had made his pulse race like seeing Felicia's bared to his view. He traced his fingers along her skin, treasuring each and every one of her shivers.
"I am not chilled," she hastened to add.
He grinned and placed a quick kiss on her lips. "I know."
"Of course," she said, her voice a whisper. "I merely wanted to reassure you."
"You have earned my gratitude."
He continued stroking up and down one thigh, his other hand coiled about her waist. It would not do for the carriage to hit a rut in the road and have her bouncing onto the floor.
"If you placed your arms about my neck—"
She instantly linked her fingers behind him. "Like this?"
"Perfection."
And it was. He could touch her with both hands now, and see just how she responded as she became more aroused with every one of his caresses. He continued smoothing his hand up and down one leg, pushing the fabric a little higher with each turn. He felt her skin warm under his touch. She moaned, moving instinctively to get more contact, but he forced himself to resist that particular touch. At least for a little while longer.
He unfastened the spencer covering the front of her dress, impatient with the numerous buttons. But he was rewarded, finally, with the sight of her hard nipples pressing against the thin bodice of her dress. There was no evidence of a chemise or stays. The minx had planned her surprise well.
He placed his palms against her breasts, unable to resist, especially when it produced a sharp hiss of pleasure from her.
"Hugh," she murmured.
Her eyes slowly closed, and her head tilted back as she lost herself in the rising sensations. Her movements emphasized the irresistible rosy skin above her neckline. He leaned forward and placed his open mouth on a curve displayed so enticingly just for him. Her floral scent drove him mad with longing. The softness of her skin aroused him unmercifully.
Lord Wastrel (The Curse of True Love Book 2) Page 10