“Am I not permitted to enter my own kitchen?”
She laughed. “Not if you value your life. Besides, your newly hired cook is out shopping for supplies while her scullery maids are busy scrubbing out the hearths and stove. We’ll only be in the way.”
“I’m master of this house. I can never be in the way. I need food.”
“I had no idea you were such a petulant child when hungry. She’ll be back shortly. Can you not wait…no, I see that you will eat the furniture if you’re deprived another moment.”
Smiling, she eased out of the arm he’d tucked around her waist. “I’ll see what I can grab from Aunt Sophie’s kitchen. I’ll put together a basket for us and bring it back here. They’re busy preparing for this afternoon, and I don’t want to put them out any more than necessary. Since your house is being cleaned from top to bottom, we can picnic in the garden. It will be perfect. We’ll be out of everyone’s way and able to enjoy the lovely outdoors.”
“With the added benefit of privacy.”
She nodded. “So no one can overhear us as you speak sweet nothings in my ear. Although, I’d much rather hear more about what you did today.”
When his smile faltered, she wondered whether something other than obtaining the special license and the minister had occurred. Perhaps the slip of his smile had to do with yesterday’s summons from the Admiralty. She could not tell by his expression.
“I’ll be back in a trice.” She hurried to the Farthingale kitchen which was bustling with activity and quietly gathered some apples, bread, and slices of ham left over from last night’s supper.
Mrs. Mayhew caught her digging through her pantry. “Miss Violet, what do ye think yer doing in here?”
“I do apologize, but Captain Brayden was hungry, and his kitchen still is not set up. Oh, it will be in a matter of an hour.” She grimaced. “But he can’t wait that long. He is already grumbling and must be fed now.”
Mrs. Mayhew tossed back her head and laughed. “Needs to keep up his strength, does he?”
“Yes, I suppose.” Although from the leering grins on the faces of Mrs. Mayhew and her scullery maids, she sensed the comment had nothing to do with his eating a hearty meal.
The basket was heavier than expected, but Violet was determined to manage it on her own. She carried it into Romulus’s garden and set it down with a grunt on one of the wooden benches beside a bed of bluebells and daffodils. Old General Allworthy did not spend much time outdoors, but he enjoyed looking out upon his rows of flowers.
Violet thought it was quite a beautiful garden.
As she hurried to the front of the house and was about to enter it to call for Romulus, a carriage drew up at the gate. To her surprise, the wicked widow, Lady Felicia, stepped down. “Why, Miss Farthingale, I did not expect to find you here.”
Lady Felicia looked stunning, her gown a tastefully elegant ecru silk with an intricate band of seed pearls sewn at the high waist. Her hair was styled in a fashionable chignon and her hat was an exquisite ecru silk with pearl beading and two dove feathers.
Violet was overheated from lugging the basket, and had no idea what her hair looked like just now. But she smiled politely, hoping not to show a hint of her irritation or dismay. “Nor did I expect to find you here, Lady Felicia. To what do we owe the honor of your visit?”
“We, is it?” She arched a cool eyebrow. “Seems I underestimated you, Miss Farthingale. You’ve got your talons into Romulus rather quickly. But I’m on to that sweet, innocent act of yours. You may have him fooled, but you cannot fool me.”
“Oh, dear. I’ve been found out. I am bereft.” The woman was insufferable. Violet knew she ought to have held her tongue and not engaged her, but she could not hold back her sarcasm. The woman’s superior manner rankled her.
“And I am not so easily deterred.” She cast Violet an imperiously snide glance, staring down her nose at Violet. “You may believe you have won him, but I always get what I want. No one, certainly not the rustic likes of you, will get in my way.”
Romulus stepped out of the house in time to hear Lady Felicia’s remark. “Bloody hell, Felicia. Must you be so destructive in your boredom? Go amuse yourself elsewhere.”
He placed a protective arm around Violet’s waist.
Lady Felicia tossed back a laugh. “How adorable. Do you think to shelter your new mistress from me?”
Romulus did not appear to be at all amused. Indeed, Violet would have felt a shudder run through her if he ever tossed her the dark, threatening look he was now tossing Lady Felicia. It was as though his every feral, protective instinct had been aroused. “Watch what you say, Felicia. Violet is lady of this house. It is as much her home as it is mine.”
He drew Violet closer which she understood was his signal to stay quiet and not contradict him. They weren’t husband and wife yet, but would be in a few hours.
“You married her?” The remark had obviously caught the vulgar woman by surprise, but predators like Felicia always seemed able to recover quickly. Her malicious smile returned. “Ah, here I thought I was interfering in your courtship. I shall have ever so much more fun destroying your marriage.”
She turned abruptly and returned to her carriage, ordering her coachman to drive off the moment she’d climbed in.
Violet stared at Romulus, her mouth agape. “Well, that was fun.”
He groaned. “There aren’t words…I can’t even…I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
A sickening sense of unease churned in Violet’s stomach, but she would not allow the unpleasant confrontation to ruin her wedding day. She knew to the depths of her soul Romulus would be faithful in their marriage. This is who he was, noble in heart, loyal, and protective through and through.
Still, the woman’s words troubled her. “Romulus, do you think she means it?”
He snorted. “I don’t know. But it doesn’t matter. There is nothing she can do to break us apart.”
Violet’s stomach was now twisted in Gordian knots. “We’ve known each other less than a week. How can you be so certain our marriage will survive?”
He gave no response, merely regarded her grimly.
Those knots in her stomach twisted even tighter. “How silly of me. How can you be? You’re not even certain you will ever love me, are you?”
Chapter Fourteen
Romulus could not take his eyes off Violet as they stood in front of the minister to exchange their vows. Violet’s aunt had decided the ceremony should be held outdoors, under the cloudless blue sky. After all the work she’d done to make this a perfect affair, neither of them wished to contradict her. She could have insisted the ceremony be held in the root cellar, and they would have agreed.
He and Violet now stood in the shade of the oak tree where the bees had resided and first brought them together. “Do you think they’ll return?” Violet asked, glancing at the branches and then up at him.
Romulus grinned. “The bees? I certainly hope not today. I’d rather get through this ceremony without incident.”
Violet looked exquisite, like a woodland sprite in a gown of white silk that draped perfectly over the gentle curves of her body. She had wildflowers threaded through her lush, dark mane. Her hair was partly done up and some curling strands had been left loose, styled to fall in a soft cascade over one shoulder.
Her violet eyes sparkled.
It filled him with pride to know her eyes shone with love for him. “Violet,” he said softly, knowing there was so much he wished to say to her still. But they’d only met a few days ago, been forced to wed in haste, and were still unsure of their feelings for each other.
No, that wasn’t quite right.
He loved Violet and was certain she loved him.
Their only hesitation was in declaring their feelings too soon.
But did love ever work on a proper timetable? There was such a thing as love at first sight, although Violet’s book was filled with reasons to be cautious. Only time could build the high brain connections
needed to form a strong marriage, the author declared.
Romulus wasn’t sure about that.
He’d felt that deeper attraction almost from the first. The first moment he’d unlaced her gown and touched her velvet-soft skin. The first time he’d put his arms around her. The moment he’d run his hands up and down her shapely legs.
It wasn’t merely lust that had shot through every throbbing pulse and pore of his body. It was her softness, her smile, the lovely lilt of her voice that got under his skin and shot a path straight to his heart.
This girl is mine.
He’d known it, felt it to the depths of his soul.
He ought to tell her now. After all, he hadn’t been placed in charge of one of the finest ships in the royal fleet because he was hesitant or cautious. “Violet,” he repeated, hoping to tell her what was in his heart before the ceremony started.
Her smile shone in her beautiful eyes. “I know, Romulus. I feel it, too.”
He nodded.
He hadn’t said the words aloud, but he was pleased she understood how he felt.
The minister cleared his throat. “Shall we begin?”
From behind them, his cousin Ronan jokingly called out, “Gad, yes. Start the ceremony already. The apple pies are cooling on the window sill.”
“The birds will have at them before we do,” Joshua chimed in. “Is that cinnamon in the pies?”
Violet’s laughter was as gentle as the breeze. “Uh, oh. The wildebeests are restless. We’d better get on with the wedding. But who invited Lady Withnall? I thought this was to be family only.”
“I did. She brought us together.” He cast her a deliciously wicked grin. “I wanted her to know how much I appreciated her holding my bollocks to the fire.”
Violet’s laugh came out as a snort through her nose.
The minister frowned at both of them, casting Romulus a particularly reproving scowl. “Captain Brayden, this is a solemn occasion. Behave yourself.”
Like hell.
But he knew better than to embarrass Violet in front of all their family, so he did reluctantly behave himself.
The kiss he gave Violet when the ceremony ended was light and restrained.
The kiss he gave Violet later that evening and when he’d carried her over the threshold to the bedchamber they would now share, was deep and devouring. His hands roamed over her body with shocking lack of restraint. He did not think it was possible for a man to hunger so greatly or feel such happiness.
At the same time, he also felt an agonizing misery.
Violet was now his wife, and he would claim her in every way, but how could it ever be enough?
He would have no more than a few days with her before he was called away.
His heart was already aching.
He shook out of the thought and concentrated on the beautiful angel before him who was surrounded in that moment by the last rays of sunlight slanting through the window and bathing her in golden twilight.
They were now in his townhouse, in their bedchamber, and he noticed the staff had left a tray of fruit, cheese, and scones atop his bureau, along with a bottle of wine and two glasses. Candles were lit to cast a fiery illumination around the room.
They were well provisioned and would not need to come out for at least another day or two.
He glanced at the food, knowing they would sup later. At the moment, the only thing he intended to nibble on was Violet.
He removed his jacket, cravat, and vest, knowing she would be shy when he began to unlace her gown, and hoping it would help if he removed some of his own garments first. He made no protest when she assisted him with his shirt, liking the softness of her hands upon his skin as she helped slip it over his shoulders and head.
Her eyes were as round as teacups and her cheeks were stained a bright pink as she looked her fill, taking no pains to hide her admiration of his body.
He was no coxcomb, but he knew Violet was eager to couple with him. She wanted to touch him, taste his kisses, as much as he wanted to devour her. “Your turn, sweetheart. Allow me.”
It took no more than a few tugs at the lacings of her gown to slip it off her shoulders. Unlike the bee incident, he did not stop there. His hands slid along her slender shoulders to nudge the gown off her body. He watched it pool at her feet in a silken puddle.
He’d meant to lift her in order to move the delicate garment out of the way, but the frugal part of Violet was already thinking ahead. She hopped out from amid the silk and picked up the gown to carefully hang it over a chair.
He grinned, knowing she was still thinking practically and not fully aroused yet. But he soon meant to have her hot and purring as she clawed his body and moaned his name.
She was now clad only in her chemise and stockings, having kicked off her slippers when she’d laid out her gown. He could see her body outlined beneath the gossamer fabric, a lightly veiled temptation amid the glow of candlelight. His own body responded immediately, thrumming with excitement at the sight of the dusky tips of her breasts and the dark patch between her thighs.
He could no longer hold back the urge to taste her, to feel the heat of her arousal against his lips and inhale the scent of her essence. Light. Lavender. Liquid and fiery.
He unpinned her hair, catching his breath as her curls tumbled in a wild cascade down her back and over her shoulders. Her hair was longer than he realized, falling below her waist and curling at her hips.
He buried his hands in her hair and crushed his lips to hers, his control about to snap. He wanted Violet so badly, even his skin was prickling and his loins were aching as they’d never ached for anyone before. “Lord, you’re beautiful.”
Wanting nothing more between them, he removed the last of her clothes and carried her to their bed. He set her down in the center of it, pausing only to remove his boots. He now wore only his trousers, but decided to keep them on for the moment.
There would be time to take them off after he pleasured her.
He sank onto the bed and gently rolled Violet beneath him.
Her eyes were wide in anticipation, and her lips were softly parted. He meant to go slow, maintain control, but as he pressed lightly down atop her body and felt the lushness of her breasts against his chest, felt the silky heat of her skin, he knew he was lost. “Violet,” he said in a husky groan that tore achingly from the depths of his soul. He crushed his mouth to hers once more, slanting his lips over her soft, pliant lips, and at the same time cupping one of those lush breasts in the palm of his hand.
He ran his thumb lightly over its budding peak.
She gasped when he replaced his thumb with his tongue and began to lick and suckle, unable to restrain himself, unable to go slow, for a tidal wave of heat and insatiable desire was crashing all around him.
“Romulus!” Violet wrapped her arms around his neck and arched toward him, as though needing him to take more of her in. Mother in heaven! He was going to swallow up this girl, he was so hungry for her.
His swollen member strained against his breeches.
But he kept up the onslaught on her body, swirling his tongue around the rosy peak of one creamy breast until it hardened, and then moving to the other. He suckled and licked one and then the other, evoking soft, moaning gasps from her lips. “Romulus, these sensations…”
“I know, love. Close your eyes and take them in.”
As for him, he was drowning in desire for this girl, desperate to soak all of her in. The lavender scent of her body, the warmth of her skin, the excitement in her sultry, breathy moans.
Her voice was kitten-soft as she purred and arched her body in surrender to his touch, now responsively wild beneath him, squirming, rubbing herself against him, gasping, clutching his shoulders, grabbing onto the back of his head, and tugging at his hair to keep his lips upon her breasts and upon any other part of her body he saw fit.
He nibbled the sensitive spot by her ear.
He kissed his way back down to the tip of her breast.<
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He kissed lower.
His lips brushed lightly against the patch of hair between her thighs.
She froze, uttering not a gasp, emitting not a breath.
“Trust me, sweetheart.”
“I do,” she replied, closing her eyes and releasing a sigh as he eased between her parted legs.
She clutched the sheets as he touched her core, light and gentle at first. He wanted to give her a moment to get used to his lips and tongue probing the most intimate part of her. He slowly grew bolder, keeping up the onslaught until she was close to the edge of soaring, and then intensifying the pleasurable sensations.
He felt her tightening, and then felt the nub of her essence quiver. She was nearing her release, about to soar to a never before experienced height. She moaned and tugged at the bed-sheets, her grip on them fierce as she wound and twirled them between her fingers. He extended her pleasure, unrelenting as he touched her and tormented her with each swirl of his tongue.
He kept his hands around her waist to hold her firm as he pressed his mouth to the most intimate part of her responsive body. He could feel the heat emanating from her. He heard her soft, purring breaths that ended on one sobbing moan as she finally gave in to her pleasure. “Romulus!”
“I know, sweetheart.” He wrapped her in his arms and held her close until her beautiful body experienced its soaring climax, and she drifted back to earth.
He caressed her, kissed her on the forehead, on her cheek, on her lips. He rolled her atop him, loving the feel of her hot, damp body against his. He felt the pounding of her heart as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him similarly, on his neck, his jaw, his lips with ardent sweetness.
“I had no idea.” She laughed breathlessly and burrowed against his body.
“Neither did I,” he admitted, for nothing had prepared him for joy that shot straight to his heart and had him reeling as she experienced her release. Nor had any of the wild, rakish moments of his past prepared him for this deep stirring of his heart, this recognition in his soul.
Regency for all Seasons: A Regency Romance Collection Page 84