by Dayna Quince
He took an even bigger breath, his body growing harder. “Are you sure you're ready?”
Obedience threw her head back in exasperation and groaned. “I've been ready. It’s you with your overly conscientious and equally overbearing notion that I must be handled with kid gloves. I'm the girl who rides about in breeches, Chance. I'm the girl who bested you at tree climbing and horse racing. Nothing I do with you could be so shocking and terrifying as you are making it out to be. You keep suggesting otherwise, but now I'm calling your bluff.”
“If you knew the thoughts in my mind, the things I fantasized about doing to you, you would be scared,” he warned. “You strip away all my civility when I have you beneath me.”
“I dare you to try and shock me,” she challenged.
His jaw locked, the muscles in his jaw and neck visibly flexing. “Be careful of what you wish for.”
“Right here, right now.”
He balked. “No.”
“Why not?” she whined petulantly.
“You are my wife. We've only made love once. I will take you home and make love to you in our bed properly before we begin to explore other venues.”
“You are a stick in the mud,” she teased as he picked her up and waded toward the shore.
Chapter 17
They returned to the house, sweaty from their gallop back to the stables in the afternoon heat. When they entered the back door, intent to reach her bedroom, Gable was waiting with an urgent missive. A messenger was waiting for a reply. Chance cursed. Obedience folded her arms over her chest mutinously.
“I'll only be a moment,” he bid her. “Wait for me and I will be up shortly.”
Obedience strode away without a word, and Chance hurried to his study. He opened the missive, cursing his secretary for being so damn efficient.
Obedience reached her room and found Myra sorting through her stockings. “Oh, hello Myra,” Obedience said. She hoped she didn't sound as peeved as she felt.
“Good afternoon, ma'am. I'm looking for stockings that may need to be replaced. I've found two with holes.” Myra held up a stocking and wiggled her finger through a hole.
Obedience smiled. “Myra, do you remember telling me about the time you worked in an opera house?”
Myra nodded and continued to stretch stockings over her arm to inspect them. “Yes, ma'am.”
“Would you be able to tell me about...pleasing a man?”
Myra froze. She slowly looked over her shoulder at Obedience. “Pleasing a man, ma'am? You mean...” She blushed.
Obedience rolled her eyes. “You know precisely what I mean. I'm married now, and I want to know how to drive my husband mad for me.”
Myra giggled and set down the stocking. “What is it you would like to know?”
“Everything, naturally. But mostly, I want to know what things I could do to him to make him lose control.”
“Well,” Myra gestured for Obedience to sit on the edge of her bed, and she pulled the dressing table stool close. “I may not have the qualifications of a courtesan, but I did step out with a handsome Irishman for about a month. He taught me something about men that I will never forget.”
Obedience leaned forward with rapt attention.
A half hour later, Chance sent the messenger on his way. He pinched his nose in irritation as he climbed the stairs, hoping Obedience wasn't cross with him. He went to his room to freshen up and then headed to her room. He reached her door just as her maid was leaving. As he reached for the knob, he looked back in the direction the maid had gone. He was sure he heard feminine chortling. He knocked on the door and entered. She was sitting at her dressing table in her dressing gown, looking pink-cheeked and lovely.
He closed the door and deftly turned the key. He casually strolled over to her, his hands in his pockets, all his blood rushing to his groin at the sight of her. “I'm sorry I kept you waiting.”
“It's all right.” She smiled at him. “I had a very enlightening conversation with Myra.”
“Myra? Is that the lady’s maid who tended you at your mother’s?”
Obedience nodded. “I offered her the position here since Angela wasn't up to the task.” She pointed to the curls that fell in waves around her shoulders and half way down her back.
Chance forgot about the maid. He was already imagining running his fingers through her hair. “I see.” He stepped closer as she stood before him and slipped her robe from her shoulders. She was naked.
He swallowed as his body roared to life with acute desire. “I see.”
“I don't want you to see, dear husband. I want you to be blind with desire, ravaged by passion, and incapable of holding back from me. Sit down and lie back.”
He sat on the bed, unable to take his eyes from her as she stalked toward him. She put a hand on his chest and pushed him down until he was flat on his back with his legs off the edge of the bed. She tugged his cravat loose, unraveling it, and pulling it from his neck. Next, she undid his waistcoat and shirt, pulling the latter from his waistband and spreading it wide. She trailed her hands over his muscular chest in admiration, following the natural flow to his groin. She reached for his breeches and undid the first button. She heard him swallow.
“Are you nervous?” She looked up at him and smiled.
“Should I be?”
She cocked her head to the side. “Nervous? No, I'm going to drive you mad with lust, and I promise you will love every second of it.” She bit her lip. “From what I'm told, that is.”
He scowled. “Where are you getting this information?”
Obedience smiled innocently. “Myra.”
“Your lady’s maid?”
“Hush now. You are at my mercy.” She undid the other button, caressing the swollen evidence of his arousal. He closed his eyes and flexed his hips, pushing his erection harder into her hand. She pulled on the breeches to slide them lower. With his aide, she got him fully undressed, and they moved up the bed so he was resting against the pillows. She admired his lean muscular body before setting her lips to his chest, slowly burning a path with her tongue to first one nipple then the other. He tried to distract her by touching her, but she evaded his hands. She kissed her way to his navel, and continued to follow the trail of curling dark blonde hairs to her prize. He hissed as she took him in her hand, thrusting as she gripped him tightly and slid her hand up and down the hot smooth flesh.
“I want to be inside you, Obedience,” he said huskily.
She wanted that too, but she wanted him begging her first, the way she begged him before. She bent over him, her hair brushing over the sensitive skin of his stomach and thighs. She could see his hands gripping the sheets and she smiled wickedly. She touched her tongue to the head of his manhood and he jerked.
“You don't know what you're doing to me,” his voice rumbled dangerously.
She knew exactly what she was doing to him. She was doing what he did to her every time, only this time there would be no stopping until they climaxed together, joined as one. She covered his head with her mouth, taking him as far as she could. She reversed direction, gently sucking as she slid up his shaft.
“Oh God,” he groaned. “I won't last like this.”
She repeated the torture until he was sweating, his body vibrating with tension. His jaw was clenched, arms rigid and bulging with veins as he held balls of sheet in his fists. His eyes burned her when she met them, wild and hungry. She relished it. She moved to straddle his hips, his hands eagerly coming up to grab hers.
“You're a she-devil,” he growled.
She raised a triumphant eyebrow as she rubbed herself over the head of his erection. Pleasing him had done things to her body. She was aching for him by the time she was done, that familiar need he drove inside her clamoring for release. He applied pressure to her hips, and she took him inside her, whimpering with need as he filled her. It burned, the sensation still new to her, but her body knew what to do. As she rocked her hips, he thrust inside her and the pain turned to
blinding pleasure. He thrust faster, his face rigid with ecstasy. She watched him through narrowed eyes as he lost control, shedding all restraint and losing himself in the moment. He gripped her hips roughly, groaning and grunting as he propelled them both to heaven.
Obedience couldn't stay focused on him anymore. Her mind slipped as her primal body took over. They fought for release together, moaning and panting as he buried himself inside her over and over. Obedience screamed as she shattered, stars filling her vision behind her eyelids as she squeezed them shut. He shuddered beneath her, groaning her name and pulling her down to his chest.
When Obedience recovered enough to open her eyes, it was dark. They were on their sides now, the coverlet pulled up over their bodies. She moved to get up, but a hand clamped over her hip and held her still.
“Where do you think you are going?” His voice was rough with sleep.
“We should get up and eat something.”
“We can have food sent up.”
Obedience laughed. “Won't that seem rather odd?”
“We're newly wed and grieving. It’s not odd if we find solace in each other.”
Obedience colored. She didn't want the entire household knowing what they were up to. “I need a moment to myself.” He let her go and she went to her dressing room. Her immediate needs taken care of, she put on her robe and found Chance with his eyes closed. She licked her lips. He was so beautiful, inside and out, and he was all hers. She felt very blessed. She pulled the coverlet up to his shoulders and rang for Myra. There was no point in denying that they had spent the afternoon making love. After all, everyone already assumed as much, but that didn't make it any less humiliating. She waited by the door for Myra's quiet knock. Opening it just a hair, she requested dinner to be sent to their room.
Chance woke after dinner arrived, climbing from the bed like a disheveled lion. Obedience watched him in amusement. The civilized gentleman was long gone, and she preferred it that way. She liked the new Chance.
“What are you smiling at, minx,” he said as he pulled on his breeches.
“You.” She grinned as he stalked toward her and roughly kissed her lips. She sighed blissfully as he took a seat at the small round table across from her. This was her version of a sinful heaven. She wanted all their days to be like this, but she knew that would be unlikely. She was swimming in joy, her heart so full of love that she had trouble keeping a smile from her lips. She hoped he was feeling the same. She thought about the revelation they had shared at the creek. It was surreal. She wanted to hear him say the words over and over again just to be sure she hadn't imagined it.
Only days ago things seemed so bleak. Her mother and sister had rejected her, the wedding ceremony had been disastrous, and then the duke’s death. It still brought a wave of sadness to her, and she had not returned to his room since. But things were so much better now. Each day seemed brighter than the last, and for the first time, she looked forward to the future, imagining the many good things it would bring. Is this what happiness felt like? She sobered. She felt for the pin Chance had given her. She had put it on her robe when she changed after their picnic. She made a vow to herself that she would wear it every day. It didn't feel right to feel so happy when they had both lost someone who meant so much. Feeling the smooth stone eased her mind. He would want them to be happy, she was sure of that. She looked up at Chance and found him staring at the pin.
“I wish he could have lived to see our children,” he said quietly.
Obedience blinked in surprise. All the sudden, he looked so vulnerable, and she wanted to put her arms around him. “He will in spirit,” she assured him.
“He would have made a terrible grandfather.” Chance suddenly laughed.
“How can you say that?”
Chance shook his head as if remembering something fondly. “I remember him coming to the nursery with a rifle and target, trying to teach me how to shoot. I think I was only four.”
Obedience grimaced. “That is terrible.”
Chance laughed again. “I went through six nannies before we found one that could tolerate him.”
Obedience smiled. “That does sound like him. He isn't easy to understand until you get past his rough exterior.”
“You and my mother seemed to be the only ones who could see through that rough exterior to the man inside,” Chance mused.
Obedience surprised him by getting up to slide onto his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “You are a lot like him. Not on the outside but very much so on the inside. Where he is boisterous and loud, you are polished and elegant, but you share the same great big heart and the ability to make those around you feel strong and safe.” She rested her forehead against his.
He didn't move away but held her gaze. “He would have loved to hear that. He would be honored.”
“I have an idea of another way we can honor him.” Obedience pulled back and ran her fingers through the golden curls she loved so much. “We can name our first son after him. His name will be a legacy of its own.” She saw him swallow and was surprised by the sudden brightness in his eyes.
“I love you,” he said suddenly.
There was so much emotion behind the words that she felt them in her chest. “I love you too.”
“I wish I could have known what he knew so long ago, so that we wouldn't have had to do it like this. I wish he could be here to see how right he was, and how absolutely perfect you are for me.”
Now it was Obedience's turn to be overcome with emotion. “Me too. But thanks to him, we are here now, and that's all that really matters.”
He pulled her close and kissed her, their mouths merging urgently as they grieved and loved as one. They couldn't change the past, but they could shape their future and remember the great Bear Duke as the wonderful man he truly was, how he changed their lives, and keep his memory living through their children.
Chance lifted her and carried her back to the bed. “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, till death us do part,” he said into her hair as he set her down on the mattress.
She looked up at him, smiling. “To have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to sometimes obey, till death us do part.”
He narrowed his eyes at her as he leaned over her, pulling open her dressing gown. “I don't remember it quite like that.”
She shrugged. “It’s the best you're going to get. Now kiss me.”
Epilogue
Jeremy Adler couldn't believe his blind luck. He frequently remembered that summer night when he was returning late with his new goat, and he saw an angel standing at the edge of the bridge. She jumped, and he raced over the bridge, his mule braying in protest as they rocketed along the road following the river. He had stopped and jumped out of his cart, running into the water like a madman, throwing his arms into the river, and searching for the angel who must be there. He had been chest deep, the current tugging at him as she collided with him, his arms coming around her and pulling her to the surface. He had thought she was dead until the fluttering of a shallow breath had proved otherwise. He took her home, and he thanked God every day, though he wasn't certain that she felt the same.
It had taken three days and a fever before she woke. She claimed she didn't remember her name, but he wasn't sure he believed her, even now. It didn't matter. She had begged to stay, taking the role of caregiver to his ill father, and bringing a light into their modest home that had never been there before. They had taken to calling her Angel, though she protested it.
She brushed off any questions about where she may have come from until finally they had settled into a routine and stopped asking. He didn't care anymore. He never wanted her to leave—ever, but something was changing about her, and he was dying to ask her what he was afraid his heart already knew.
Winter was coming, and a fire
snapped in the hearth as she hummed and stitched one of his shirts. His father had retired to his room, his cough worsening. He circled the small room before he took the seat closest to her and summoned the courage to speak.
“Angel,” he said.
She smiled reluctantly. “There is no need to call me that.”
“But you are an angel. Without you, I wouldn't have been able to care for my father and this farm. He would have died, and I would have lost everything,” he said earnestly.
“And where would I be without you?”
He didn't like to think about that. “Do you remember anything before that night?”
Her expression turned to stone. “No, and I don't want to discuss it.”
“But...” He grasped for courage. He would hate himself forever if he drove her away. “You're changing, I can tell. I don't know much about women, but living on a farm, one learns a lot about reproduction.”
Her hands stilled. They began to shake as she slowly set the shirt down. “I—I...”
“It's doesn't matter to me, Angel, but did you even know?”
Patience nodded, the carefully constructed composure she had erected, crumbling. She had known this would happen, but denial was a powerful ally, and she had hoped to put it off for a little longer. “I'll go.”
“No!” He came to his knees before her and grabbed her hands before she could even move. “I need you. If the father doesn't care, I don't care. Please stay. I'll gladly marry ye and call the babe my own, just please don't leave.”
Patience had lost the ability to breathe. Jeremy and his father had been so kind to take her into their home when she had none. She had worked every day that she was capable to earn her keep, but she had never thought of this. “You would marry me?”
“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. It’s as if God sent you to me, answering my every prayer.”