Scandal's Daughters

by Christi Caldwell, Eva Devon, Elizabeth Essex, Anthea Lawson

  So, she stood still.

  He lowered his hands to the edge of her soft chemise, carried it up her body and whisked it over the top of her head.

  Her heart slammed against her ribs.

  In all her life, only her sisters and maids had seen her naked. What would he think? Would he find her favorable? She’d always felt quite good about her person. But now, standing before this beautiful man who had seen many naked women, she felt trepidation.

  “I want to kiss every part of you,” he said, his voice a rough growl. “I want to make you mine.”

  Those words sent a thrill through her, leaving every inch of her skin feeling as if it were on delicious fire.

  “I am yours,” she replied then she licked her lips. “And I should like you to be mine.”

  The words seemed to take him by surprise, but then he pulled her to him and took her mouth in a hot, powerful kiss. The kiss seemed to claim her, to storm her gates, to lay waste to any doubts between them.

  He swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed.

  The beat of her heart nearly deafened her as the big, powerful man who was now her husband stretched her out on the counterpane then crawled onto the mattress to join her.

  His strength surrounded her.

  And before she knew what was happening, his hand slid between her thighs and found a part of her that had been utterly secret to all but her.

  He stroked that soft flesh and she cried out in surprised pleasure.

  A satisfied male growl came from him. He stroked again and again, until she grabbed on to his shoulders, stunned by the pleasure that was tossing her to new heights.

  And then the world crashed about her in wild bursts of ecstasy.

  Wave after wave of delight overtook her body and, as she could barely think, he was suddenly over her. He whipped his coat and shirt from his body, throwing them to join her own clothes on the ornately woven rug.

  “Are you ready?” he asked, his voice rough with passion.

  How could he ask her to reply when she had no mind left to answer? So, instead, she nodded wildly.

  He gently parted her thighs and she was aware of him undoing his trousers as the world seemed to slow a little in its wild twirling.

  Suddenly, she felt his hard shaft at her entry. He slid himself up and down, teasing her.

  To her surprise, this had the most powerful effect on her. Her body arched against him. Her legs longed to wrap about his waist and draw him in.

  But it was also overwhelming as he thrust forward.

  She gripped his shoulders and cried out as he delved deep into her heat.

  For one moment, she felt terrible pain and she bit back a cry. But then it passed.

  He stilled, his face a mask of hunger and concern. “Are you well?”

  She drew in a long breath, trying to decide if she was. The pain was vanishing, replaced by an incredible sensation of fullness. She smiled slightly, amazed by the strangeness of it.

  “Shall I take that as a yes?” he asked, his voice slightly strained.

  She nodded again, not trusting herself to speak because she felt so strange.

  He began to move again, stroking in and out, thrusting deeper into her core.

  To her astonishment, the pleasure returned and with each thrust of his body, she began to feel tossed upwards towards that pinnacle again. He leaned down, taking her mouth with his, his tongue slipping between her lips.

  She wrapped her arms around his back, longing to feel a part of him. And then he reached back, his hand betwixt them, and he found her secret place again.

  As soon as he teased it, he thrust hard into her body and she let out a wild cry which was matched by his shuddering release and her name upon his lips.

  The room spun and she held on to him, desperate to be anchored in the wild storm of pleasure he had just shown her. In all her life, she’d never known such bliss and she’d certainly never felt so entirely at one with another person.

  Gently, he sank onto the bed and pulled her into his arms. As he cradled her, she felt so cared for. . . And it was frightening. For in all her life, she’d never felt the first hints of love, but here in her husband’s arms, the first sparks bloomed within her. So, she savored the feel of his body pressed to hers and did her very best not be concerned about tomorrow.

  Chapter 10

  “You cannot be serious.”

  William stared at his mother, who stood near the library fireplace, wondering how he had ever thought she might be gracious about his sudden marriage. He loved his mother. He always had. But she was a difficult woman. So, truly, it was his fault for wishing that she behave differently than she always did.

  “I am serious, Mother,” he replied calmly. “I’ve married Lady Felicity.”

  “How can you be such a fool?” she hissed coldly.

  He forced himself to not rise to her anger, so he queried, “To be a gentleman?”

  “She is the daughter of a madman.”

  It took all the patience he had not to become cold himself. Penworth was a radical who had always been unusual. That was all. “The earl is not mad.”

  “No?” His mother folded her hands before her mauve skirts. “Are you certain? Are you prepared to have mad children? What if she goes mad as well?”

  He ground his teeth. “Lady Felicity is the picture of reason. A bit more experienced in life and more clever than most ladies of our acquaintance, but there is nothing mad about her. And we will not have mad children.”

  As if he had said nothing, she demanded, “Can you be certain?”

  “Nothing is certain.”

  “I like certainty,” she said flatly.

  “Well, one thing is certain,” he declared firmly. “She is my wife and you must accept her as the new marchioness.”

  His mother pressed her lips together, rolled her eyes heavenward then burst out, “You know she will ruin your sisters’ hopes of good marriages.”

  He laughed. It was impossible not to. “Now, it is you who are foolish.”

  “Am I? The scandal of her family is not to be borne. Why could you not marry a girl of good birth and fortune?”

  “She is of good birth,” he stated. He wouldn’t let his mother conveniently forget. “Her family is an ancient one. With lords fighting at Agincourt for God’s sake. We only go as far back as Henry Tudor.”

  “And, my marriage portion isn’t to be winked at.”

  He whirled to the sound of Felicity’s voice in the doorway.

  “Do forgive me,” she said with a bright smile. “I was looking for you, the door was not shut, and I heard your voice.”

  God, he loved the sight of her. Her light blue gown complemented her dark hair and violet-blue eyes. It also emphasized her beautiful body. He couldn’t help thinking of how perfectly she’d fit in his arms as they’d slept. Another first for him, as he’d never slept the night through with a woman.

  “This is your home,” he replied. “You will be welcome in any room.”

  The slight noise of derision from his mother sent a blaze of fury through him but he faced the woman who had birthed him with remarkable calm. “Would you like to inquire into the dower townhouse, Mother?”

  His mother’s face whitened.

  “That won’t be necessary, will it Lady Marksborough?” Felicity said as though the room wasn’t thick with rancor. “You and I shall get along splendidly. I’m certain of it.”

  William’s heart nearly dropped into his stomach. From her stressing of that word, it was clear she had overheard a good deal of their conversation. He was immensely grateful he had said nothing to be ashamed of. His mother, on the other hand, had been cruel. He would have liked to have thought it was only privacy that allowed her to be thus, but he wasn’t convinced.

  Even so, his mother was not a stupid woman and as she swung her gaze from him to his new wife, her face transformed with understanding and sudden graciousness.

  “Of course, we shall get on my dear. Of course,
” his mother amended. “We must host a dinner in your honor. This very week. All our friends will, no doubt, wish to look at you.”

  “Mother, we shall allow Felicity to give whatever parties she desires. After all, she is the Marchioness of Talbot now.”

  There was a long silence and a hardness pulled at his mother’s face.

  “I would be honored if your mother was to host a party welcoming me to the family.” Felicity crossed into the room and slipped her hand into his. “I have not had a mother in many years as mine died giving birth to my youngest sister. It will be wonderful to have someone so kind again.”

  He nearly choked on a laugh for he didn’t believe Felicity to be so naive as to think his mother would wrap her into her bosom and offer her the love a daughter might require.

  After all, Felicity had clearly heard his mother’s cutting comments about her possible madness. Still, Felicity had said it with wide-eyed innocence.

  He adored her for it and he adored the feel of her hand in his, not to mention the way she had so boldly taken it.

  His mother seemed to realize she had been outplayed and so she acquiesced, shrugging ever so slightly. “My dear, nothing should give me greater pleasure than to offer you the succor I offer my own daughters. And yes, we must show all of London how welcome you are.”

  William felt a hint of tension at those last words. His mother could be damned difficult if she got it in her head to be so.

  “I’d very much like to meet my new sisters,” Felicity suddenly said.

  This time, William felt genuine warmth in her words.

  “They are all eating breakfast,” he said.

  “And I am hungry! How fortuitous,” replied Felicity. “Will you show me the breakfast room, William?”

  The intimacy of his name gave him pause. It was only because, for some inextricable reason, her use of it filled him with a great deal of pleasure.

  “Good morning, Mother,” he said as he took Felicity’s hand in his and led her into the hall.

  “Well done,” he whispered, once again loving the feeling of her hand in his.

  “I’m glad you think so.”

  “She can be most prickly and you mustn’t let her push you about.”

  “I sense that she wouldn’t take to a wilting violet,” Felicity admitted.

  Finally, a laugh boomed out of him. “You are correct.”

  The din of his sisters’ voices met him and he felt a moment of pride as he guided Felicity into the breakfast room. He knew none of his sisters would say something as cruel as his mother had done.

  The moment they entered, they were met with silence.

  All three girls gaped, their teacups aloft.

  Elizabeth bounded out of her chair. “It’s you! It’s you!”

  “Is it?” teased Felicity lightly. “Are you certain?”

  “Oh yes! You’re the one that had to be saved.”

  William winced.

  But Felicity merely laughed, a delightful bell sound. “It’s true, I did. And like in stories of old, your brother charged to my rescue, though I must warn you, I am no sad maiden waiting patiently in a tower.”

  Elizabeth’s nose wrinkled. “I’m very glad to hear it. Maidens in towers sound very boring.”

  “They do, indeed,” replied Felicity.

  “And yet, that is how maidens are supposed to behave,” Mary pointed out as she stood and smiled.

  “Who says so,” Elizabeth demanded.

  Felicity sighed with exaggerated drama before she winked. “Society, my dear.”

  Elizabeth considered this then said seriously, “Society is very troublesome.”

  “It is, but we don’t have to let it ruin all the fun,” said Felicity.

  “What do you like to do for fun?” asked Elizabeth.

  “Elizabeth, let our new sister choose her breakfast,” cut in Jane.

  “I can help,” piped Elizabeth before she eyed Felicity. “Mayn’t I?”

  “Of course! You can tell me which are the best things to choose. What is your cook’s breakfast specialty?”

  “The sausages,” informed Elizabeth with all seriousness.

  “I adore sausages.”

  Elizabeth grinned and ran to the sideboard to fetch a plate.

  As Felicity followed his littlest sister, his heart did the strangest thing. It warmed with a sudden and deep affection. It had never occurred to him how much it would matter that his wife fit in with his sisters. And it seemed to him that Felicity was going to fit in very well, indeed.

  ***

  Felicity put on her bonnet and clasped her parasol. She started for the foyer but when she spotted Mary sitting in the morning room looking rather bored, she hesitated.

  After several days, learning the workings of the exceedingly large townhome, Felicity felt at ease now and was eager to return to her daily constitutional. She had noticed that Mary and the other girls rarely ventured outside. It had struck her as rather odd, but she knew it common for young women to remain indoors awaiting callers, playing the piano, and embroidering cushions.

  She found the very idea appalling. For one moment, she hesitated but then stepped into the morning room.

  Mary looked up from her needlework and smiled welcomingly. “Are you to join me?”

  “Actually, I wished to ask you to accompany me.”

  Mary tilted her head to the side. “Are you going shopping?”

  “No.” She loathed shopping, actually. “I’m going for a long walk.”

  Mary blinked. “A walk?”

  “Yes.”

  Mary blinked again. “Why?”

  Felicity grinned and tapped her parasol to her thigh. “To stretch my limbs.”

  “Ah.” Mary nodded. “You need a companion.”

  Felicity corrected gently, “I’d like your company but I need no companion if you mean in the official sense.”

  “But ladies don’t go out on their own,” Mary protested.

  Felicity laughed. “No, I don’t suppose they do, generally. But I am very capable and all my sisters and I are wonderful with a parasol.”

  “You mean to keep your skin fair?”

  “Oh.” It struck her then that Mary had absolutely no idea what she meant. Likely it had never even been a viable consideration to the other young lady. “No! I mean I can bash anyone with it if they try something they shouldn’t.”

  Mary paled.

  “Oh dear.” Felicity swallowed. She didn’t wish to overly alarm her sister-in-law. “Have I overstepped the mark?”

  “I cannot imagine committing such an act,” admitted Mary.

  There were many people she wished to bash over the head but Felicity kept that to herself. “Can you not?”

  “No.”

  “It is very satisfying.” Felicity softened her voice. “Have you ever been made to feel uncomfortable by unwelcome tension?”

  Mary flinched. “What lady has not?”

  Felicity sighed. “How true and how unfortunate. You know, I can teach you how to brandish a parasol. . . Or stomp on a booted foot most effectively.”

  Mary considered this and put her needlework down. “I don’t know if mother would approve.”

  “Tosh. I’m sure William would.”

  “It would be nice not to feel at the mercy of a man.”

  “Exactly,” crowed Felicity. “And after, we shall go for a walk in the park. One needs strong legs to stomp properly.”

  Mary giggled. “I imagine.”

  “Stand up then.”

  Felicity held her parasol firmly. “Now, I will show you a few things to try. My parasol is reinforced, so not merely decoration. We shall have some made for you.”

  Mary’s eyes widened but she nodded.

  Clearing her throat, Felicity raised her arm. “You can, of course, bash someone in a good downward stroke.”

  She demonstrated, bringing the closed parasol down in a clear arc.

  “You can also jab with the pointy end,” Felicity explained.
“To do this, you draw your elbow back to your side, place your feet firmly, twist and thrust!”

  Felicity grinned as she performed the action upon an imaginary opponent.

  “You can also do the same downward jab onto a man’s foot. This is wonderful for outdoors,” Felicity clarified. “Clearly, when one is at a ball or such one doesn’t carry a parasol, hence I will show you stomping.

  “Goodness.”

  “You see,” Felicity rested her parasol against her side. “My father made no mystery about the fact that not everyone is an honorable sort. In fact, there are a good number of blackguards about.”

  Mary blushed. “I see.”

  “He wanted his daughters to be able to protect themselves.” Felicity stopped. “I say, am I shocking you too much?”

  “Smelling salts are not necessary but it is all bit surprising.”

  “Is this terribly bad?” Felicity asked carefully.

  “Most definitely not. I think it marvelous.”

  “Good. Let’s give it a go.”

  Mary put her needlework down then took the offered parasol.

  Felicity backed out of range. “Stand near the center of the room, until you feel in control. We shouldn’t wish to bash any of your mother’s vases.”

  Mary held the parasol tentatively and swung but then she did it again, and again, each swing growing more determined.

  “Now the jab,” urged Felicity.

  Mary nodded, her face growing serious with concentration. She wound her arm back then thrust forward.

  “A perfect attempt!” cheered Felicity.

  “I do beg your pardon, but are you two fencing?” William asked as he strode in.

  Felicity tensed. She suddenly realized that, perhaps, she was making a very bad mistake. What if William didn’t want his sister learning such a thing?

  “Hello, William. Felicity was just teaching me to defend myself against bounders.”

  He smiled kindly. “Do you know many?”

  Mary’s mouth straightened. “A few.”

  William’s eyes narrowed. “Who? I’ll have a word.”