by Ella Quinn
“Ah, just in time.” He smiled with satisfaction. “Harrington, your bride has arrived. Perfect timing on her part, I would say.”
Geoff swiveled his head so quickly, he thought he’d cracked his neck. Elizabeth was a vision in a pale pink gown that seemed to float around her. Her neck was adorned with a long necklace of pink pearls the likes of which he had never seen before. Her blond hair sparkled as the sun shined on it. “She is exquisite.”
“Yes, she is,” Bentley said, but he was gazing at the small dark-haired lady following Elizabeth.
It was only then that Geoff noticed her father as well.
The elusive Lord Turley. The man seemed shrunken. Although tall and broad shouldered, his jacket was loose as if he had not been eating properly. Geoff gave himself a shake. Now was not the time to attend to anything but his wedding, and his uncle was already speaking.
Elizabeth’s father stood next to Geoff, Elizabeth on his other side. Uncle Richard asked, “Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?”
“I do,” Lord Turley said.
After taking her hand from her father’s, his uncle gave it to Geoff. He tightened his fingers around hers, trying not to clutch them like a man drowning.
When he gazed into her upturned face and searched her eyes, he saw no hesitation or doubt. Instead her gaze held a warmth he had never seen before in any woman. It was very like the way his friend looked at his betrothed and his mother looked at his father, and—
“Repeat after me,” his uncle prompted.
“. . . to love and to cherish ’til death do us part.” Geoff struggled not to let his jaw drop.
He knew he cherished Elizabeth. Yet, for some reason he had never realized that he was supposed to promise to love her.
If he’d thought about it at all, he would have supposed there were vows for arranged matches and different vows for love matches. He and Elizabeth didn’t have an arranged marriage, but it was not a love match either. Perhaps he should have spoken to Uncle Richard about using the correct ceremony. Geoff would have if he’d had any idea it was necessary.
Yet, it was too late now. He had given his word to her and, as a gentleman, he must find a way to keep it. If only he knew where to begin.
Could he love her? What was love for a woman? He had never experienced the emotion. He’d never wanted to fall in love, and did not know if he would recognize it if he did.
Elizabeth’s fingers tightened around his as she said her vows. She had promised to love him as well. Did she already love him or did she find it a strange requirement?
Soon he slipped the ring on her finger, promising to worship her body—Geoff was sure he already had done that, and would be more than pleased to continue to do so. A few moments later his uncle pronounced them man and wife.
There were several prayers afterward. But he hardly heard them. For some reason the scent of the roses mingling with Elizabeth’s lavender and lemon aroma captured his whole attention. He found himself stroking the palm of her hand, and she leaned against him.
Geoff wanted nothing more than to carry her up to his room and sink into her. That is what should occur after a wedding. Not standing at doors and greeting people, then waiting for a cake to be cut. His cock strained against his breeches. Damn, if he didn’t start thinking about something else, he would embarrass himself.
Elizabeth nudged him, pointing her chin at the neighbor’s black and white cat who had found a place in the sun amongst the roses.
Would she like a pet? If so, what kind? A dog or a cat? Not one of those pug dogs. He’d rather she had a proper dog. Perhaps he, or better she, could ask for one of the Worthington puppies. After they arrived in Paris, there would be time to properly train the animal.
Uncle Richard stopped talking at the same time that Geoff glanced down and met Elizabeth’s gaze. They were married. He finally had his wife. And that was all that mattered.
* * *
Elizabeth had never seen Geoffrey look so handsome. When he took her hand from her father’s, he had smiled. Was he as happy about marrying her—as opposed to any other lady—as she was about marrying him?
She was pleased at how firm her voice sounded as she repeated her vows. When he promised to worship her body, his tone deepened, and her knees threatened to buckle. How embarrassing that would have been, to fall over at one’s own wedding.
Soon it was over and the vicar instructed them to sign the register. Geoffrey wrapped his arm around her waist. “Wife.”
“Husband,” she shot back, giddy with happiness. “Although, I think we must sign our names before it is legal.”
As soon as the formalities were over, glasses of champagne were pressed into their hands. Toasts were made to them for a happy and fruitful life together.
“I cannot tell you how happy I am to have you as my daughter.” Lady Markham bussed Elizabeth’s cheek.
“Congratulations, Harrington.” Lord Elliott shook Geoffrey’s hand. “And to you, Lady Harrington.”
Elizabeth blinked at his use of her new name. She had been so busy preparing for the wedding, she had only thought about her name a time or two. “Thank you, my lord.”
Footmen started dashing around with trays of food, and she and Geoff shared a glance. “We could go up to our parlor while the staff finishes setting up for the wedding breakfast.”
“We could,” he agreed. “You would be able to look at your new bedchamber.”
“Do you mean to tell me it is finished?” She had never had a chamber made especially for her. Not even when she had moved from the nursery to another bedroom, had she got to decide on the decorations. Then again, her father’s house was never her real home. That would be with her husband.
“They finished this morning.” He stroked her back, causing pleasurable frissons to spread through her. She wished they could just repair to his bedchamber alone. “I cannot wait to hear what you think of it.”
Elizabeth rose on her toes, and whispered in what she hoped was a sultry tone, “I think most of my enjoyment shall be experienced in your room, my lord.”
“I shall make sure of that, my lady.” He took her hand. “Let’s go to our apartment before the wedding breakfast begins. We are married.”
Yet, before they could leave the drawing room, they heard his mother’s voice.
“Elizabeth and Harrington.” Lady Markham walked in from the garden. “Our guests will begin arriving soon. You must take your places.” She glanced over her shoulder at her husband. “Markham, you as well.”
“The garden is not yet ready,” Geoffrey objected.
“The wedding breakfast will be held in the ballroom. The other areas will be finished soon enough.”
“I had hoped we would have time alone,” Geoffrey murmured, holding out his arm to Elizabeth.
Placing her fingers on the soft superfine of his jacket, she murmured, “I had the same hope.”
An hour later her mother-in-law released them to mingle with the guests with the admonishment not to disappear yet.
After slowly making their way around the ballroom, Elizabeth spotted Dotty, Charlotte, and Louisa. “If you do not mind, I wish to speak with my friends for a few minutes.”
Geoffrey glanced in the direction Elizabeth indicated. “Of course not.” He raised her hand and kissed each of her fingers. “I’ll find you in a bit.”
As if by silent assent, the ladies rose when she approached. “The terrace?”
They nodded and began to meander out the French windows. She signaled to a footman. “Please bring champagne and refreshments for four to me on the terrace.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Elizabeth smiled to herself. Even though it had only been an hour, she had been addressed as “my lady” and “Lady Harrington” so many times, her new title was no longer foreign to her.
She hurried out to join her friends. “Where is Oriana?”
“With Bentley,” Charlotte said. “They have not seen each other in a week.”
“I think you are correct.” Louisa’s brow wrinkled. “I know Gideon and I were not.”
“Neither were Constantine and I,” Charlotte added.
“We were not either.” Elizabeth signaled for her friends to sit where two footmen were setting up a table for them. “I cannot imagine having to wait two months to marry.”
Her friends murmured their concurrence.
She raised her glass. “To us and our futures.”
“Here, here,” Louisa, Dotty, and Charlotte said as one.
“When do you depart for Holland?” Louisa asked after they had taken sips of champagne and filled their plates.
“In three days,” Elizabeth responded. “Geoffrey and I wanted to leave at first light, but his parents asked us to remain for a while longer and we agreed. It is not as if we are simply going on a wedding trip and will return in a few months.”
Charlotte finished swallowing a bite of food. “Do you know how long you will be away?”
“From what my mother-in-law said”—Elizabeth cast her eyes to the sky—“until I give birth to a son. She suggested I wish for girls.”
Dotty hastily covered her mouth with her serviette and started to laugh. It took her a few moments before she could speak. “What did Harrington say to that?”
“I haven’t had time to tell him.” Elizabeth finished her glass of wine and poured another glass. “I was told only yesterday, and we have not been alone for more than a minute today.”
“Harrington appears to dote on you,” Charlotte ventured. “I was looking.”
“As was I,” Louisa said. “I am so happy you found love.”
He had still not told her he loved her, but . . . “I am, too.”
“Speaking of Harrington,” Dotty said. “It seems he is missing you.”
“He has our husbands in tow as well.” Louisa smiled as Rothwell approached.
Geoffrey leaned forward, his hands on Elizabeth’s chair, his fingers languidly stroking the back of her neck causing pleasurable thrills. “It is time to cut the cake.”
“After which,” Kenilworth said, “we shall provide cover while the two of you slip away. I remember how hard it was for Charlotte and me.”
Elizabeth casually glanced up at Geoffrey to see if he showed any signs at all of being jealous of his lordship, but he merely grinned down at her. “We shall thank you for it. What do you say, sweetheart?”
“Yes, indeed.” She covered one of his hands with her much smaller fingers. “I had hoped we would not even have a wedding breakfast.” She rose as did the rest of the ladies. “I suppose we should go in.”
One by one her friends embraced her.
Charlotte bussed Elizabeth on her cheek. “I wish you and Harrington the best of everything.”
“I wish that for you, too.” She kissed Charlotte’s cheek and whispered, “Thank you for not wanting him.”
“I know you will be happy.” Louisa hugged Elizabeth.
“I believe we shall.” She returned the embrace.
“Have a wonderful journey, and please remain safe,” Dotty said, taking Elizabeth’s hands.
“I—We shall. Thank you for everything.” She stepped back and tucked her hand in Geoffrey’s arm. “You must all join us in Paris sometime next spring.”
They strolled into the ballroom, Elizabeth and Harrington in the lead.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Less than forty minutes later, Geoffrey took her hand in his. “Through the door the footman just came out of. We’ll go the back way.”
That was when she noticed that her friends and their husbands had formed a barrier so that no one could see who came in or out of the door. “Lead on.”
They slipped behind two large potted plants, then through the door. The corridor was narrow, but well lit. They walked to the end. He opened another door that led to a plain wooden set of stairs. She held up her skirts as they made their way up to the next level. A few moments later, they were in his bedchamber, and she was in his arms.
“I thought we’d never be alone.” He brushed his lips across hers.
She wrapped her arms around him, encouraging him to kiss her deeply. “I have decided that the idea of the wedding breakfast is to keep the bride and groom away from each other as long as possible.”
“At least they have done away with the bedding ceremony.” His lips roamed along her jaw and down her neck. “Although, then you would already be naked. Shall I act as your maid?”
“Yes, please. And I shall act as your valet.”
It did not take long before her gown slipped to the floor and she had tossed his cravat over a chair. He placed her gown carefully over the same chair, but threw his jacket on the floor. Sweeping her into his arms, he climbed onto the bed.
His hands slid over her body, lighting fires wherever he touched. Elizabeth wiggled, trying to encourage him to go straight to the place where all her needs coalesced, aching for him to enter her.
“Patience, sweetheart.” He cupped her breasts, licking and sucking first one then the other until she wanted to scream with frustration.
As he did before, he licked and kissed his way down to the place between her legs, and sucked. She arched her back trying to push herself closer to his mouth.
“Is that what you wanted?” His voice was low and tight.
“More.” She gasped, struggling for air as her body tensed. “I want you.”
“I live to serve, my lady.” The next moment he plunged inside her.
Her inner muscles clenched around him as she gave in to wave after wave of glorious sensations.
Geoff collapsed next to Elizabeth, drawing her next to him. He’d never come like that before. He’d never dreamed he could. The minute he’d entered her she milked him dry.
He nuzzled her hair as he wound the thick mass of silken curls around his hand, watching as they tried to hold on to his fingers when he let go. Her hand splayed over his chest. And even though she was clearly asleep, a smile played on her lips. When she woke, he hoped he’d be able to mate with her again.
Pulling the covers over them—this time he’d had the forethought to have his valet turn down the bed—Geoff closed his eyes. They had all the time in the world to be together now.
* * *
For the rest of the day and the next, they coupled. Occasionally, they would wander into their dining room to find food had been set out. The first time she had licked chicken juice off her fingers, he had picked her up and taken her straight back to bed.
“I had no idea licking my fingers would have such an effect on you.” Elizabeth grinned. “I shall take care not to do it in public.”
Geoff was beginning to believe her mere existence was enough to make him hard. “Shall we see what else has the same effect?”
“I think we shall have to.” She ran her tongue along his neck. “I am still hungry.”
Before he could stop her, she was out of the bed. He rolled over onto his back and watched his wife’s plump bottom as she left the bedchamber. This time she didn’t even don her chemise. From the dining room he heard her giggle. “Someone brought us ices.”
He swung his legs out of the bed. “There are many interesting uses for ices.”
On the morning of the second day, he woke to the sound of Nettle banging around in the dressing room.
Elizabeth opened heavy-lidded eyes. “What is that noise?”
“I believe it is our notice to join my parents for breakfast.”
She rolled into him, wincing a little. “I should bathe.”
Considering their bedroom smelt like a brothel, he should probably bathe as well. “You may go first if you’d like. Soak for a while. It should ease your muscles.”
“I shall.” She kissed him before leaving the bed, donning her chemise as she walked stiffly out of his room into h
ers.
He should have exercised more caution with her. Even if she had instigated several of their couplings. After all, he was the one with the experience.
* * *
An hour later, they were dressed. Geoff took her hand in his.
“They all know what we were doing, do they not?” Elizabeth’s voice was more than a little uneasy.
“We are married.” The only problem was he was feeling a little nervous as well. This was most likely the reason couples went on wedding trips.
She straightened her shoulders. “Yes, we are, and I cannot imagine them saying anything.”
“No.” Still, he was relieved when they were the first ones to arrive in the breakfast room.
Father’s under butler directed the placement of the dishes while Gibson looked on.
“I have a feeling Gibson will be happy to see Preston gone,” Elizabeth whispered.
“I think you are correct,” Geoff whispered back. “Come, you can show me what you like to eat, and I’ll fix your plate.”
“Thank you.”
She declined the kippers, but took the baked eggs and ham. He pulled out a chair for her in the middle of the table, and a footman placed a pot of tea, sugar, and milk down next to the plate. “Thank you. I would like toast as well, please.”
He liked the way she addressed the servants. Not everyone thanked them, but he had found he received better and more loyal service when he did.
A few minutes later, his parents arrived.
“Good morning, my dears,” his mother said, taking her place at the foot of the small table. Preston placed a plate of eggs and kippers in front of her.
“Tea?” Elizabeth asked.
“Yes, please.” More toast was set on the table. “One lump of sugar and milk.”
Father spent more time selecting his food from the dishes on the sideboard, before joining them.
A fresh pot of tea was set on the table next to his mother, and she fixed Father’s cup. After Mama had taken a sip of tea, she said, “Elizabeth, your mare arrived the day before yesterday. I also received a note from your aunt and brother saying they would visit you this afternoon.” Mama’s lips pressed together in an expression of displeasure. “Your father has returned to the country.”