He bent his head and whispered close to her ear, “Ye like the uncultured tone do ye?” His breath tickled the side of her neck and a shiver raced through her.
“Yes.” Her voice was no more than a gasp – a sound she hardly recognized as her own. With one simple question, spoken like a pirate, he’d almost removed her ability to stand. So she reached for him quickly and felt the hard press of his hand at her back as he steadied her at the same time.
“Yes, ye like the uncultured tone, or yes, ye’ll marry me, Regina?”
His low murmur sent the most delicious vibrations through her. “Both,” she managed.
He emitted a satisfied growl from somewhere deep in his throat right before he pressed his mouth to hers with the fierceness of a man who’d just conquered the world. It was the most possessive kiss yet, and Regina reveled in it, loving the thrill and the taste and the sounds. She felt as if she were caught in a violent storm with rain beating down from every angle. His hands were somehow everywhere at once, his body a solid wall at her front, and the kiss so hot and intense that it threatened to burn her to cinders.
“My God,” he rasped while kissing a path down her neck and toward her neckline. He drew her tighter as if he wanted to somehow consume her.
His breaths cooled the damp spots his kisses created, producing the loveliest frissons on the surface of her skin. Craving more, she thrust her fingers into his hair and directed his mouth back to hers. She led the kiss this time, showing him without words the extent of her desire, the desperation she felt in her heart, and the longing to be with him in the most elemental way possible.
A rap at the door broke the spell and reminded her of where they were. Swallowing, she stepped back and patted her feverish cheeks. When her eyes met Carlton’s, she smiled, for he looked just as ravished as she felt. “Yes?” she called to the unwelcome intruder.
Marcus opened the door and glanced at them each in turn. He cleared his throat. “I gather there’s a wedding to plan, because if there isn’t—”
“Yes,” Carlton said. He raked his hand through his hair in a pointless attempt to bring his haphazard locks in order. “She said yes.”
“Then I congratulate you both.” Marcus went to Regina and gave her a hug. He then shook Carlton’s hand. “Shall we decide on a date for the ceremony?”
“I suggest three weeks from today,” Carlton said.
Regina’s head snapped around and she stared at him without any effort at hiding her shock. “Can we not try to obtain a special license?”
He looked at her with a mixture of love and hunger that had the effect of curling her toes. “I understand that you’re eager to marry, and I can assure you that I am as well. However, I would like to know where I stand first since that will determine where we will be living.”
“Can we not go back to The Black Swan?”
“No.” The word was spoken simultaneously by Carlton and Marcus. The two men shared a look before Carlton returned his attention to Regina. “Your reputation right now is extremely fragile. My mission from this moment on is to preserve it to the best of my abilities. That means planning a wedding that won’t raise an eyebrow and giving you a respectable home to move into immediately after. Until then, you will remain here with your brother.”
“But that’s intolerable,” Regina protested, in response to which Carlton grinned. “We’ve lived together for a month and have even…” The remainder of what she was going to say died on her lips when she saw how uncomfortable Marcus looked. She waved her hand. “You know what I mean.”
“Yes,” Carlton agreed, “but only a few people know that. The rest believe you were off on a trip to Paris with your mother. And besides, don’t you think we should wait for her to return so she can watch you get married?”
Regina sighed. “I suppose…”
Carlton’s smile broadened and a twinkle appeared in his eyes. “You won’t be the only one to suffer the wait, I assure you. Just remember, anticipation can be a powerful thing.”
Marcus cleared his throat. “I can call on the vicar if you like, so you don’t have to do so. Lord knows you’ll be busy enough in the weeks to come.”
“Thank you,” Carlton told him. “I appreciate that.”
“And don’t forget,” Marcus told Regina, “that you and Sterling can still spend time together before your wedding.”
“Might I suggest that we start with a stroll in the park tomorrow?” Carlton asked.
“If you prefer a ride, you’re welcome to borrow my carriage,” Marcus said.
Regina could only look at the man she loved. He stood before her with hope in his eyes, as if his every happiness hinged on her saying she’d join him. “A stroll sounds perfect,” she said, dismissing the carriage because there was something far more compelling about being seen on his arm.
“Happy?” he asked one week later while they were walking through the Royal Academy of Art.
“Never more so,” she replied.
Carlton drew her against his side as they paused to admire a painting of a boy with black hair. He was standing beneath a tree with a greyhound by his side. “I know you think I lied to you about my father.”
“It’s fine, Carlton. Really.” She had no wish to discuss his dishonesty with her. Failing to post the letters she’d written while letting her think that he had had hurt her the most. “I understand your reasoning.”
“I’m glad. But you ought to know that I wasn’t completely dishonest.” He pointed toward the plaque at the bottom of the frame.
Regina leaned forward. “Valentine Sterling by Montgomery Sterling, Fifth Duke of Windham.” Going still, she raised her gaze to the boy’s face. The likeness had eluded her before, but now it was obvious, especially once she spotted the scar. “This is you?”
“My father painted it when I was ten.” The pride in his voice couldn’t be missed.
“It’s incredible, like a real person trapped on a canvas.”
He was smiling at her when she glanced up at him again. “It’s not the only painting of his in this gallery. Come, I’ll show you.” He led her into another room where a group of young ladies were gathered around a Vermeer. They glanced toward Carlton and Regina as they approached and promptly hurried away.
Carlton stilled, his posture tensing. “Does it bother you?”
There was no doubt about what he meant. “Not at all.” She glanced up at him, at the handsomest and most considerate man she knew. “You’re the best choice I ever made for myself. It only stands to reason that every young lady in London should shy away from me with envy.”
“Do you honestly mean that?”
Noting a hint of uncertainty in his dark eyes, she nodded. “Yes, Carlton. I would not live my life without you.”
His answering smile was followed by a kiss so scandalous, Regina was certain it would be mentioned in the Mayfair Chronicle the following morning.
And so it was.
23
An overabundance of joy coursed through Regina’s body when she woke on the morning of her wedding. She stretched out her arms and savored the weightless bliss she experienced thanks to a good night’s rest and a comfortable bed.
After rising, she slipped her feet into her slippers, pulled on her robe and went to open the curtains. Outside, a sheen of morning frost sparkled upon the ground. Reds, yellows, oranges, and greens combined to create a bright combination of autumn foliage.
Eager with anticipation, Regina turned her back on the picturesque scene and rang for her maid. “Are you ready to embark on your new adventure, my lady?” Lillian asked as she combed out her hair.
“More than you can imagine.” She’d spent the last three weeks meeting with Carlton almost every day. And during that time, she’d fallen more deeply in love with him. Amidst all the gossip, she’d found strength in his company, and in return she’d done her best to help him adjust to his new position within Society.
Being reinstated as duke was something the king had insisted u
pon after learning that Carlton was the true heir to the Windham title. Marcus had not been as lucky. He’d had to surrender his honorary title as well as the one he was meant to inherit from Hedgewick. But at least he had managed to keep the house in exchange for a sizeable sum donated to the royal coffers.
Lillian twisted a lock and pinned it in place. “I’m pleased for you, my lady. It appears as though you’ve found the happily ever after all women dream of.”
Regina smiled at her reflection. Lillian was working a miracle with her hair. On the table was the diamond necklace and matching earrings Carlton had given her yesterday.
“He’s a good man,” Regina murmured. “The very best, I believe.” She couldn’t imagine sharing her life with anyone else, and when she finally entered the church three hours later and saw him waiting for her at the end of the aisle, it was all she could do not to leave her brother’s side and run toward him.
“Shall we?” Marcus asked as the organ began to play. The pews were filled with people who’d come to witness the ceremony, either out of curiosity or because they’d been invited. With a tiny nod Regina took the arm Marcus offered and smiled. Speaking was difficult, if not impossible, the emotion she felt so intense it clogged up her throat.
They started forward together and as they walked, she was pleased to see Claus and Philipa near the back. A tiny bubble of laughter spiraled up through her and made her relax. The idea of lords and ladies occupying the same building as a bawd was outrageously funny. Regina bit her lip to stop the giggles that pressed their way forward.
“What is it?” Marcus asked in a whisper.
“Just a humorous contradiction.” She spotted the Duke and Duchess of Coventry, the Duke and Duchess of Huntley, and the Duke and Duchess of Redding. All were gathered to watch the proceedings, regardless of whether they approved of her and Carlton or not. At the front of the church where her mother should have been was an empty seat. The former countess was too ashamed to show her face in public after everything that had happened, so Regina had known for a while that she would be absent. Instead, she was glad that MacNeil was there next to Carlton, his solid body and height silently offering strength and support to his friend.
“I trust you to take good care of her, Windham,” Marcus said as he placed her hand in Carlton’s.
“Of course.” Carlton’s eyes were trained on her and her alone. As if no one else existed. His fingers closed around hers before he muttered a hushed, “You look stunning,” and turned her to face the vicar.
The next hour passed in a blur. All Regina could concentrate on was how warm Carlton’s hand felt against her own. He glanced down at her. A frown creased his brow and the vicar coughed.
“Do you?” Carlton asked in a voice so low only she would hear it.
The sound of it, the change in cadence and tone, snapped her out of her reverie and helped sharpen her focus. “Yes,” she whispered, and then a much louder, “Yes. Yes of course.”
Smiling up at Carlton, she gave her consent to a few more questions. A wry smile teased his lips as he spoke his vows next, leaving no doubt in her mind that he bound himself to her without any regret.
“May I kiss the bride?” Carlton asked Regina after the ceremony when they were alone in the carriage that would take them to the Berkly residence for a wedding breakfast hosted by Marcus. His arm was around her, pressing her into his side.
In answer, she tipped her head back and turned to face him. A slight nod was all it took for his mouth to find hers in a gentle, unhurried caress. The tenderness opened her heart and laid it bare, forcing her to reveal the extent to which she loved him. The powerful feeling was matched by his own. She could feel it in every touch, each soft and reverent slide of his lips over hers.
With a sigh, she conveyed her appreciation for the tender embrace. She wasn’t ready for it to end moments later when the carriage drew to a halt. “We’ll have to continue this later,” Carlton told her in a low rumble that caused her entire body to quiver. And when he punctuated the statement with a quick kiss to the side of her neck, she felt her skin prick and a rush of heat claim her.
Lord, the patience she would have to endure for the next few hours was likely to kill her. This certainty grew more pronounced with each heated glance Carlton gave her while they mingled with guests in the Berkly parlor. And it only got worse once they were shown into the dining room and took their seats there, for his hand found her thigh beneath the table, after which it became quite trying for her to carry on any conversation.
“You’re a terrible scoundrel,” she told him as soon as they climbed back into their carriage and set off for Windham House. “I could hardly concentrate on Marcus’s speech.”
“It was excellent,” Carlton told her slyly. “A pity you cannot recall each word.”
She slapped his arm but failed to keep a straight face. “At least he had it written down, so there’s a chance I’ll be able to read it one day as long as he doesn’t throw it away.”
“I’m sorry. Keepin’ me ’ands off ye just wasn’t an option.”
His change of dialect sent a thrill darting through her. A flutter of anticipation stirred in her belly. She reached for his hand and clasped it tightly. “It was a lovely wedding.”
He raised their joined hands and pressed a kiss against hers. “Ye didn’t have very much cake though.”
She grinned. “I simply couldn’t get one more bite down.” Perhaps because her belly had been in constant upheaval, fluttering like mad with the expectation of what would happen between them once they were alone. “I did ask Marcus to have some of it sent over to the house tomorrow.”
“Not too early, I hope.”
“Around noon?”
His eyes glinted like a pair of black diamonds. “I’m not so sure ye’ll be out of bed by then, luv.”
The promise of sensual pleasure was curled around every word, and Regina’s pulse leapt in response. She swallowed and gripped his hand tighter. He answered with a low chuckle and pulled her into his arms for the sort of kiss that threatened to scorch her. It was urgent and unapologetic, almost savage in its roughness. But Regina didn’t mind. She savored her husband’s desire for her, his fierce display of need, for it easily matched her own.
By the time they reached their house, her breaths were ragged, her heart beating wildly against her breast. A few loose strands dangling over one cheek suggested some hairpins had fallen from her hair. Her gown was also slightly twisted, and Carlton’s cravat looked more like a hastily tied rag than a fashionable piece of gentleman’s attire. His hair was in such disarray there could be no doubt about what they’d been doing during the ride. Which caused her to blush when the coachman wished them both happy. Too flustered to speak, she nodded her thanks while her husband voiced them on both their behalf.
“Finally,” Carlton said as soon as they’d made it inside the house and had shut out the rest of the world. Stepping toward her, he nudged her chin slightly upward with his finger and brushed his lips over hers. Then, before she knew what he planned to do next, he swept her up into his arms. She squealed and instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck. Which only made him chuckle. “Didn’t expect that, did ye?”
Her legs swung over the side of his arm while her face settled firmly against his chest. “Um. No. Not really.” This only made him laugh louder, which caused a deep rumble to vibrate through him and straight into her. Loving the feel, she pressed herself closer and held on tight while he started up the stairs.
Carlton made a left at the top of the landing and strode straight into the room at the end of the hallway. Carefully, he set her on her feet, but when she moved to step away from him so she could get a better look at the flowers decorating the space and the baskets filled with what looked like baked goods, champagne, and fruit, he held her in place.
“Later,” he murmured and set his mouth to the sensitive spot where her neck curved into her shoulder.
With a sigh, she surrendered to his ministrati
ons, the flowers and gift baskets quite forgotten. All she could focus on now was the sweet exploration of his hands and the feather-light kisses rekindling the needy desire she’d felt in the carriage. Her legs grew increasingly weak and a slow burning heat flared up deep inside her, sparking with each expert stroke of his fingers. Each touch made her long for him even more fiercely than ever before, perhaps because things were different now. He was her husband, which meant that there would be no restraint, no walking away from what they both wanted. He’d claim her properly this time, and that piece of knowledge was so inviting it almost made her weep.
Instead, she sighed with relief when he finally undid the buttons at the back of her gown and allowed the garment to fall off her shoulders. His eyes darkened, the black fringe of lashes lowering slightly as he went to work on her stays and chemise. Everything was tossed aside, landing in heaps all over the floor until she was utterly naked.
He swallowed, the cords at this throat straining and flexing in response to the movement. His lips were pressed firmly together and there was an almost angry set to his jaw. It caused her to shudder, though not with fear but with pure excitement, for she knew what she saw in his face was primal – an intense desire to mate that caused every muscle inside him to tense.
“Christ, I’ve missed ye.”
She knew what he meant. They’d had no chance to be intimate since she’d left The Black Swan. “Me too,” she whispered.
He inhaled sharply, nostrils flaring, in response to that small confession. Eyes locked on hers, he yanked at his cravat until it came free. He shoved his jacket off his shoulders and tossed it aside. A few buttons on his waistcoat flew through the air as he ripped the garment away from his chest and sent it flying. His shirt followed and then his trousers.
Regina gulped. “No smalls?” she inquired with what sounded like a squeak.
His lips curled with unrepentant roguishness as he straightened his back and allowed her the most perfect view of taught skin drawn over honed muscles. “I didn’t want to waste time removin’ more clothes,” he told her as he kicked off his shoes and bent to peel off his hose. “So I only wore what was absolutely necessary.”
The Forgotten Duke Page 27