“Couldn't we just leave it there? I like that I'm the hero of this story.” Mirabelle rolled her eyes.
“What happened next?” She asked. Lady Gasden looked at a Mirabelle fondly.
“Lucien didn't stand a chance! Alastair picked his weapon well. As soon as the game was over, you sat in front of the board and told Lucien you'd avenge his honor and you beat Alastair! You were nearly five and you were already too smart for your own good.” Lady Gasden patted her knee. Mirabelle sat there with her mouth hanging open for several moments before she gasped.
“I remember! It was the first time I defeated him, he wouldn't play with me for weeks!”
“I'm so glad you two are finally getting on with it. We don't have to worry about your children being idiots.” Lady Gasden declared. “I wish I could say the same for more young people.” Mirabelle nodded emphatically. “How are your brother and his clever little wife getting along? I'm certain we won't have to worry about their offspring either.”
The rest of the visit passed pleasantly. Mirabelle and Lucien stayed until Lady Gasden became docile and yawned. Lucien helped her into her bed and Mirabelle pulled the blankets up to her chin.
“See. That wasn't so bad!” Mirabelle announced just before Lucien handed her back up to the seat of his phaeton. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it.
“No. It wasn't. Thank you for making me come.” He lifted her and started around to the other side.
“So you’ll come with me the next time?” Mirabelle hoped.
“Not a chance.” Lucien replied as he sat next to her and flicked the reins.
Chapter 12
It was his last night as a bachelor. Lucien had spent the evening settling his debts at various clubs and gaming halls. Along they way, he'd shared drinks with friends but hadn't lingered at any establishment for long. He was symbolically saying goodbye to his old life. While he could still see himself at White’s and Brooks’s with Gilles and Alastair, he expected he would have no need to frequent Boodle’s and Watier’s.
Having had more to drink than was his habit, Lucien decided it was time to make his way home. A table erupted in raucous laughter, drawing his attention from across the room. He rolled his eyes when he saw that Randall Morley, Viscount Travers was holding court. The man was a swine. Lucien was almost through the door when he heard his name mentioned, he stilled and listened.
“Can't say I blame him but he’ll have his hands full with that one. The Spencer chit is a fine piece, tried to have a go at her myself but she wasn't game for it.” Lucien's lip curled and he clenched his fist as the table exploded in laughter and rude comments. “Don't know how he managed to get that minx to save herself for him while he fucked his way through the ton but I’d…” Lucien had heard enough. His roar cut through the room as he rushed towards the table.
“Travers!” Lucien kicked his chair, sending the man sprawling sideways. He dove and grabbed him by his lapels and threw him against the wall. Stunned and wide eyed, the man didn't have time to move before Lucien's hand locked around his throat. The sound of chairs sliding and falling over echoed through the room. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Edgar Thorpe, Travers’ crony, advancing. Lucien grabbed a candlestick off a side table with his free hand and swung it at Thorpe. It connected with his jaw and sent him flying. The room became completely still. He looked at Travers, his face was purple and his eyes were bulging. Lucien released him and slammed his fist into his nose. Travers gasped as his eyes rolled back into his head and he slid to the ground. Lucien turned and looked around the room.
“The next man I hear of maligning my intended will meet me over pistols.” He yelled. “I would have said no to all of your wives and sisters if I had known Mirabelle Spencer would have me.” A hand closed on his shoulder and Lucien turned and swung. Alastair caught his fist in his hand just inches from his face. Lucien relaxed.
“It's time to leave, Lucien.” He said softly. Lucien nodded. Alastair’s eyes traveled around the room. “I'm sure there is no doubt as to who his second would be if anyone is foolish enough to ignore His Grace’s warning.” His voice was clear and hard and met with silence.
Alastair inspected Lucien's hand once they were inside his carriage.
“That was a neat punch; your hand should be fine aside from being a little sore. The whole scene was impressive.” He sat back and crossed his legs. “I was worried years of debauchery and old age would have made you slow.” Lucien closed his eyes and smiled. He was nearly foxed and it felt good to hear Alastair tease him. He'd barely spoken to him since he proposed to Mirabelle.
“Why were you following me?” Alastair had never been one for gaming. Even if he had been, he never lost at cards which made him unpopular at the tables. “I think you'd have been disappointed if you expected a wild night, I was just about to head home.”
“I know. You’re drunk. You’ve always known to go home before your judgment was too impaired. I wasn't following you because I was worried you might stop at a brothel. This business with Whitrose concerns me.” Lucien cracked open and eye and focused on Alastair.
“I would think the idea of someone attacking me would appeal. Though I’m sure I could handle myself if anything should happen.” Lucien stretched and rested his feet in the corner of the bench. Alastair sighed.
“I don't want you injured, Lucien. Unless you hurt Mirabelle, then I would be the one to do it.” There was no humor in his voice. “I know that you would never choose to hurt her. I am worried that you won't be satisfied with one woman for very long. What if you grow bored?”
“This isn't just any woman, Alastair. It's Mirabelle. I love her, truly.” Lucien felt a familiar warmth and calmness settle over him as he thought of her. “This isn’t about my body, it's about my soul. This is my life.”
“I hope love is enough. If it is, I'll be happy for the two of you. You're all she's ever wanted. I was worried she'd be destroyed when you married someone else. I wasn't prepared for the possibility that you would choose her. For some reason, my mind didn't factor that into the equation.” Lucien felt pain in his chest as he realized how much he could have hurt her. He also felt a little insulted on Mirabelle's behalf.
“I think my mind was more comfortable with keeping her as you and Gilles do, like a sister, to be teased and protected. I’ve been the biggest ass for so long, Alastair. When I look at her now, I can't understand how I could have wanted any of those other women. For some inexplicable reason, I feel at peace when I'm with her.” Alastair snorted and shook his head. Lucien agreed and laughed softly. “Somehow, I do. I feel such joy and so complete when I think the life we’ll have. I couldn't imagine anyone else I'd be happy raising a family with at Winthorpe. When I tried in the past, it always felt wrong. Now, I know it's because I wasn't picturing the right woman.”
“I agree that no one would suit you or your dukedom better but how can you transition from viewing her as a sister to a wife so easily?” Lucien knew that the conversation was becoming more academic for Alastair. That was a good sign; it meant he was forgiving him.
“Because she isn't my sister and there are certain undeniable things in this world, Alastair.”
“Such as?” Alastair leaned forward.
“She's mine. I don't know if it was because of how close we were or the family, but it's like I’ve been working against nature all this time. I'm still having a hard time making sense of it myself. I want her more than I've ever wanted a woman.” Lucien paused; he knew he was entering dangerous territory. Alastair remained still. “But I've scarcely allowed my mind to touch upon it, it still feels forbidden. Not because it's wrong. It's just so new and overwhelming and I can't understand how I could be so blessed that she would be meant for me.”
“This is the part that I don't understand. Gilles said something similar about Elise. He knew she was his almost as soon as he saw her. Of all the women I've had, I could describe their every feature but none were more remarkable than any of the others.” Lu
cien was utterly nonplussed. His mouth hung open for several moments. He and Gilles had often speculated but Alastair's sexual exploits were a complete mystery to them. The temptation to probe was strong but he knew that he would get nowhere. Alastair was too compartmentalized and was trying to make sense of something currently beyond his emotional grasp.
“I suppose I felt the same way until I kissed Mirabelle.” Alastair sat back and crossed his arms. Lucien knew he wasn’t enjoying the idea but he wanted to understand. “I never gave a damn about kissing before. It was always a step along a path that got me where I wanted to go.” Alastair nodded in agreement, which was telling. “When I kissed Mirabelle, it wasn't a choice. I had to. And it wasn't just the mechanics of lips and tongues; it was something that went through my whole body. I felt like… like I could live there. Does that make sense?” Alastair shook his head.
“No. But I think it's an impairment on my part. I find myself as confused now as I was when Gilles described his feelings for Elise. I find the idea of love to be uncomfortable and inconvenient.” Lucien laughed heartily.
“It is indeed uncomfortable at times and especially inconvenient when you're being forced to do things you don’t want to.”
“Like visit Lady Gasden? I can't imagine anything in this world that would compel me to visit her.” Alastair's brows were pulled together; he looked as if he was thoroughly confounded.
“Exactly. Don't tell your sister, but I would sit through that crone’s abuse every day if she truly wanted me too. I don't think I could deny her anything.” Lucien whispered.
“Good God.” Alastair muttered. “The two of you are mad. Gilles talked of making tea and braiding hair and you're associating with old tartars. The more I observe of romantic love, the less it makes sense. It would seem wiser to avoid it altogether.”
“There was a time when I was deluded enough to think the same. Now, I wouldn't feel complete without her. When I picture Mirabelle and our children, it takes my breath away and there's nothing I'd rather do with my life. There's nothing I want more.” Alastair's head tilted and his eyes narrowed.
“Do you think I'm delusional?” He meant it as a serious question. Lucien considered for a moment. The answer wasn't a simple one. He sighed and rubbed his chin.
“If you were any other man, maybe. But you're not like us, Alastair.” He looked concerned, hurt. “You're not inadequate or flawed. If anything, you're more than the rest of us. You've never needed us the way we need each other, the way we need you.” Alastair shook his head.
“That's not true. The family is the only thing I truly care about. If I didn't have you all, I would have no reason to stay here. I'd probably wander the world, rudderless, searching for answers. The family keeps me anchored, it keeps me human.” It was a dazzling admission. Lucien smiled and nodded.
“But you could be a man without a home, thriving solely on riddles and discovery. Very few men can exist happily like that. You need less to sustain you than most.” Alastair nodded as he considered it. “I don't know if you're capable of being susceptible to a woman's wiles. And you know that they are at the best of times incomprehensible. I don't know if there is a woman alive that would fascinate you enough to compensate for that.”
“I think you're right.” Alastair said as the carriage came to a halt in front of Burton Place. As the door opened and Alastair leaned towards it to step out, Lucien grabbed his arm. Alastair looked at him and Lucien smiled broadly.
“I'm hoping that I'm wrong though.” Alastair’s cut his eyes at him and scowled.
“You really are an ass, Lucien.” He jerked his arm free and hopped out.
Lucien laughed all the way to Clerendon House. He knew that things between him and Alastair were well on their way to being repaired and he was relieved. He didn't want to marry Mirabelle with that hanging over him.
Chapter 13
The next evening, on the back terrace of Clerendon house, Gilles gave Mirabelle to Lucien in an intimate ceremony officiated by The Archbishop of Canterbury. Not content to merely provide the license, he requested that he be allowed to perform the service.
Lucien couldn't imagine what else Anna and Alice could have done with more time; the gown they created for Mirabelle was stunning. Layers of transparent cream silk with a beaded gold lace overlay wrapped about her. The bodice was fuller than the current style, displaying a generous amount of cleavage and went almost to her hips while sleek, flowing skirts hugged her legs. Lucien had been breathless when she walked out. For a moment he was afraid he was overcome to the point of crying.
With the family in attendance, Lucien promised to comfort, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health and to forsake all others. Mirabelle promised to do the same with the added conditions of obeying and serving, smiling mischievously as she made her vows. As Lucien raised Mirabelle's lips to his, he knew that he wouldn't want her any other way. She was perfect and he was so grateful that she was his.
Dinner had been loud and festive. Regardless of the past torments Mirabelle had visited upon their old Latin tutor and the fact that Lucien had been a miserable student, the Archbishop repeatedly expressed his joy at their union. Everyone drank a little too much, including Alastair. Lucien was relieved to see that he was no longer upset with him.
"Please don't hurt her, Lucien. I love you but I would have to kill you. And I believe that would be quite painful for me." Alastair said softly as he embraced him.
"I love you too, I won't disappoint you." He vowed as his eyes connected with Mirabelle's, she was beaming.
After that, the party began to break up. Once they were alone, Mirabelle excused herself.
"I'm going up to my room now." She was incandescent when she said the words "my room". It gave Lucien goose bumps. Mirabelle was his. "I'll see you soon?" She asked as she pressed her lips to his. She stepped back and for the second time that evening, Lucien was breathless. The smile on her face was that of a goddess, full of invitation and promise. He nodded.
"Very soon." Lucien whispered as she stepped away. He watched Mirabelle's hips sway as she walked from the room.
Good God! He was finally going to make love to Mirabelle. In a daze, he walked to his study and poured himself a scotch. For the first time in almost fifteen years, he didn't know what to do. Lucien had never bedded a virgin and he certainly never had a wife before. All the women he'd been with had been immoral and experienced. Mirabelle was neither of those things. She was beautiful, pure and everything that was good about a woman and he didn't want to hurt or scare or repulse her in any way. Unfortunately, the only person Lucien would talk to about this was Gilles and one definitely couldn't ask a man about how to bed his virgin sister.
But it stood to reason that you couldn't do with a wife what you did with a mistress or a courtesan. If you could, you wouldn't need either of them. Lucien decided that that was the solution. He wouldn't do anything with Mirabelle that he'd do with a mistress or a courtesan. He'd keep it romantic and straightforward. A lot of kissing and what was acceptable when trying to produce an heir. Lucien nodded. That would be enough. He'd had a lifetime of too much. He would be satisfied and he was sure he could give Mirabelle pleasure within those limitations. He finished his scotch and headed upstairs to his wife. Lucien smiled. A few months ago he broke out in a cold sweat when he realized his time would be soon. Now, he cherished the idea.
Chapter 14
Ten minutes later, Lucien was rapidly approaching a cold sweat. He'd undressed and pulled on his robe, feeling confident as he opened the door to Mirabelle's room. Within seconds he was terrified.
Mirabelle glided towards him in a nightgown that was nothing more than transparent panels of silk, a matching peignoir and her hair loose around her shoulders. There was enough light in the room for Lucien to make out every detail of her body through the silk. As he stared at her full, round, perfect breasts and petal soft nipples and the dark curls peeking between her thighs, Lucien realized one very big flaw in his very good pl
an: It relied on him maintaining control. All the types of control he'd mastered were of no use to him now. What good was controlling one’s upper body strength, breathing or delaying a climax when the thing you needed most was to keep from doing too much? And Lucien wanted too much. His hands itched to touch every inch of her, his mouth watered at the sight of her breasts and long, slender legs. His cock was hard and aching.
Lucien was certain that he was now paying for all of his years of debauchery and irony was having the last laugh. He was well and truly hoist upon his own petard. For, in all his life, Lucien had never seen a body more perfectly suited to his tastes and designed for the very type of lovemaking he'd just decided was forbidden.
Mirabelle pressed herself against him and pulled Lucien's face to hers. He took her lips and kissed her hungrily. He felt his hands tremble as they wrapped around her waist. The urge to crush her to him and tear at her robe and gown was almost overwhelming. She pulled back.
"Lucien?" Her eyes were full of expectation and trust, it humbled him. Lucien took her lips again and closed his eyes. He would do this for her, he vowed. He had to be strong for Mirabelle. Her hands moved between them. Lucien stepped back in time to see her robe fall to the floor. A second later, her nightgown slid down her body.
Wicked And Wild: Spencers in Love Book Two Page 5