by Pearl Wolf
Her daughters laughed at this.
“Go on, Mother,” urged Jane. “Tell us more.”
“Well, my dears. I was afraid your father would be disappointed, for he so wanted an heir, but that notion flew right out of his thoughts as soon as he set eyes on his firstborn. He astounded me by sending the servants out of the room, picking his treasure up carefully, and dancing around the room with her. Imagine, Livy! Your father actually sang you a lullaby on that day, of all things.”
“Father did that? I thought him too dignified,” said Georgiana.
The duchess laughed. “You know only one side of him then. The man behind all the puffed-up air that goes with being a duke can be playful, and has a wicked sense of humor. Time and again he surprises me with it in the privacy of our chambers.” Her daughters laughed, though none of them could envision their staid father being playful.
At the end of two hours of storytelling and giggling, the duchess glanced at the clock on Olivia’s mantel. “Oh dear, children. Livy’s wedding is less than two hours away. We must all get ready. Hurry back to your chambers at once.”
Olivia lay in her tub savoring its warmth, while Jenny washed her hair. Two thoughts played in her head, both a soothing melody. The first sang of her family’s love, and the second sang of the love she felt for Sebastian.
She only half listened to Jenny’s chatter as the young girl combed the tangles out of her wet hair. She wrapped each section with strips of cloth meant to enhance the curls when they dried. Jenny refused to allow her to examine herself in the mirror until after she had helped her dress and was finished administering the final touches to her hair. When she led her mistress to the mirror, she said, a note of triumph in her voice, “You may look now, yer la’ship.”
Olivia’s eyes widened in wonder at what she saw. Her mother’s form-fitting gown was a long-sleeved ivory Belgian lace affair, studded with crystals. It fell to the floor to her toes, but the back was longer, its train flowing behind.
“Oh, Jenny. Thank you!”
Her abigail wiped away a tear. “Sit down, your la’ship, and let me attach the veil.”
The small family chapel was filled not only with the immediate family, but also with guests. Sir Henry Tremayne had ridden over from Heligan to attend, bringing with him the squire, the town magistrate and their wives. Tradition dictated that the Fairchild farm tenants and all the servants witness the wedding as well, for most of them had known Olivia since she was an infant.
When everyone was seated, Mary began to play a selection she had written especially for her sister’s wedding. Jane was first to walk down the aisle, strewing white rose petals on the red carpet. When she reached the front of the chapel, she took her seat between Georgiana and her brother Edward.
Next, Helena, the bridesmaid, walked down the aisle. Her arm rested on Hugh Denville, the groom’s attendant. Hugh escorted Helena to one side and took his place next to Sebastian.
Mary waited for the double doors to the chapel to be opened by two footmen in livery before she began the wedding march, a signal for the bride’s entrance. Olivia appeared, one hand resting on her father’s forearm, the other holding a bouquet of fragrant white roses. These and all the other flowers in the chapel were a gift from Sir Henry, cut fresh that morning from the Heligan Gardens.
Sebastian was stunned, in awe at the sight of his bride. Is this the woman who was to be his wife? he wondered. It was as if a halo surrounded her. Her exquisite gown clung to her as though it were a second skin. Her hair was held in place by a crown of tiny white rosebuds, from which hung a short veil.
Sebastian met his bride and offered his arm. When they turned to face the vicar, Mary stopped playing. Her uncle began to intone the wedding service in a deep, theatrical voice. Olivia tried to attend to every word, yet her mind kept wandering off. I never thought to marry. Am I doing the right thing? The doubt startled her, but when she heard her uncle ask if she would take Sebastian to be her lawful wedded husband, she answered in a strong voice, “I will,” and all doubt disappeared.
Sebastian repeated his vows, slipped the ring Hugh handed him on his bride’s finger, lifted her veil and kissed her. When he raised his head, he looked into her eyes and bent to whisper in her ear, “Remember! With my body I thee worship.” Olivia swallowed a giggle to avoid shocking their guests.
The sun warmed the festivities as guests feasted on the wedding breakfast which took place outdoors on the large terrace. An orchestra played waltzes and lively country sets, enhancing the celebration. Olivia had retired to her chamber to change into a less formal gown for the dancing.
“Happy, Livy?” her father asked as he waltzed with his daughter.
“Ask me again in ten years, Father.” She touched his face with one hand, a smile on her lips and added with a roguish grin, “Your secret in this whole affair is well known to me, you know. Did you think to hoodwink me into marriage? What a devious scoundrel you are. Mother says you can display a wicked sense of humor, but not in front of the rest of the world, eh?”
“Your mother’s been spreading tales, has she? She shall suffer severely when I call her to account for revealing our most intimate secrets.” His eyes told a different tale as he bantered with his daughter.
“Make my mother suffer? You’ll do no such thing, you odious man!” Her words became serious when the music ended. “I see now what you and mother have established for all your children. It’s a life of mutual love, full of understanding, isn’t it? I will strive for the same, I promise you.”
The duke’s eyes watered as he gazed into her eyes. He reached for his handkerchief, wiped the tears and blew his nose. “Go away, you disobedient chit! I give you leave to torture your husband as much as you have managed to torture me!”
“Excuse me, father-in-law. I do believe this is my dance. May I snatch her from your clutches?” The duke stepped back and bowed while Sebastian circled Olivia’s waist and held her hand high. When the musicians struck up a lively country tune, he whirled his wife around at such a pace, she felt dizzy.
“Stop, you beast! I shall faint if you don’t.”
“What’s that you say? My wife a fainter? I don’t believe it,” he teased. “All right, then. Let’s have a glass of champagne.” He took two glasses from a footman’s tray.
“No champagne for me. Bring me lemonade instead.” The footman bowed at the order and hurried off.
“I want to remember this day for the rest of my life, my darling husband. And not in a haze of spirits.”
“All right. Are you interested in hearing the plans I’ve made for the rest of today? And tomorrow? And the day after that?”
The footman returned with her lemonade and she took a sip. “Of course. What are they?”
“Tremayne has offered us his guest house for our honeymoon. I sent Hugh to visit it for us. He believes it to be perfect. It’s at the edge of a small pond and it’s quite secluded. Your cook has prepared a mountain of fried chicken and other delectables for us to take with us.”
“How are we to get there, darling?”
“Hugh hired a curricle and two fine horses. I’ll drive us there whenever you’re ready.”
She put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow. “You will not drive us anywhere, dear husband! I’ll have you know I’m one of the finest whipsters in all of England. I’ll drive us there.”
“Why, you little shrew! I say it’s my hired curricle and I say I shall drive it!”
“Then you’ll bloody well go on our honeymoon by yourself! Enjoy your stay.” She turned to walk away, but he grabbed her and pulled her to him.
“Sebastian!” she said, scandalized. “Not in front of my family and all of our guests. What can you be thinking?”
“I’m thinking it’s time I taught you to obey me, you wretch. Now, don’t argue. Jenny’s already packed your things and everything we need is tied on back.” He picked her up in his arms, but she struggled.
“Put me down!”
&nbs
p; “Not on your life, my darling. Will you be so kind as to close your mouth and shut your eyes? It’s too much to ask of a man to smother you with kisses in order to shut you up and carry you at the same time. You wouldn’t want me to drop you on your adorable derriere, would you?”
“Oh, all right. But I promise you this. It’s the last order of yours that I’m ever going to obey.”
With her eyes shut, she wasn’t able to see her family and all their wedding guests rushing from the terrace to the front steps. Two footmen held the heavy front doors open for him. “Are you planning to carry me to Heligan? Put me down.” She attempted to wriggle out of his arms.
“Stop struggling or I’ll…”
“Or you’ll what?” she said, in saucy defiance.
“Or I really will drop you on your rear end. Right in front of your parents and all of our guests.” He loosened his grip and set her down. “Better take a look around you, my love. See what you’re up against?”
Olivia swiveled her head left and right and turned ashen. “You beast! You don’t play fair!”
“I don’t, do I? How clever of you to notice. Now smile to the nice people and wave while I lead you down the steps and place you in our curricle. On the passenger side, of course.”
How could she not smile, she thought, biting back a sassy retort. A wicked scheme intruded and made her eyes gleam with mischief.
“Good-bye all. Thank you for coming to our wedding. Isn’t my new husband wonderful? He’s agreed to allow me to show you all how well I drive.” She slithered away and climbed into the curricle. On the driver’s side. “Coming, darling?”
“Yes, dear,” he said through his teeth. His stormy eyes emerged from under furrowed brows, a threatening glare meant only for her.
She held the reins and said in a loud voice, “Wave goodbye to our guests, darling.”
When he turned to wave, he was still standing. At this point she cracked the whip and he nearly lost his balance when the spry young horses took off.
Sebastian resisted the urge to laugh. He kept his silence until they were well out of sight. “Where are you taking me for our honeymoon, dear wife?” he asked, folding his arms and enjoying the scenery.
“I’m waiting for you to give me our direction, my darling husband.”
He shook his head. “Not me. With your excellent training as a spy, I’m sure you are clever enough to discover our destination all by your sweet little self.”
She drew in the reins and stopped the horses. “I’ve made my point, my love. If I promise to behave and relinquish the reins to you, will you be so kind as to lead us to our honeymoon nest?” She leaned over and kissed him, her hands busy with the buttons of his trousers.
“What are you doing, wife?”
“It’s legal now, isn’t it?” She slid her hand inside his pants, but he stopped her and heaved a sigh. He pulled the reins for the horses to stop, grabbed her and crushed her mouth to his. When he came up for air, he said, “You win, but only because I’m as hard as a rock. After I ravish you, I’ll decide what punishment to mete out to my disobedient wife.”
She batted her eyelashes at him and said, all meekness, “Yes, dear.” And tossed the reins to him.
“That’s better!” He cracked the whip and urged the horses on to their destination. When at last he drew up to a small cottage, a grizzled farmer stood outside the picket fence.
“This is Mr. Diggers, dear. He’s caretaker here. Lives down the road. He’ll see to anything we need.” Sebastian stepped down and offered Olivia his hand. Which she promptly ignored. She hopped off without his help while the caretaker untied the basket Cook had prepared, as well as two portmanteaus. He carried them inside, but when Olivia tried to follow him, Sebastian stayed her hand, forcing her to wait with him at the gate.
“Will you be needin’ anythin’ else today, yer lord and la’ ship?”
“Thank you, but no. Just stable the horses and take care of them for us until we send for them.”
Mr. Diggers climbed into the curricle, nodded and drove off.
Olivia laughed. “Mr. Diggers is a man of few words. Typical of all the Cornish,” she said as she opened the gate.
Without a word, Sebastian swept his bride up in his arms and walked toward the door.
“What are you doing, Galahad?”
“I’m carrying my bride across the threshold. Our very first threshold.”
“Mmmm. How manly.” She nuzzled his ear.
He didn’t put her down until he reached the bedchamber in the back of the cottage. There he dumped her unceremoniously on the bed.
“Beast!” she said with a gurgle of laughter.
“Stay where you are, my love. I want to show you something.” He took a few steps to the drapery opposite the bed and pushed them aside to reveal French doors. When he threw these open, she saw an enchanting pond just a few steps beyond the tiny terrace.
“Oh, Sebastian! It’s breathtaking.” She began to rise, but he put a hand up.
“Take your clothes off, wife. Slowly, if you please.”
“But I want to see…”
“Later. Do as I say.” He began to remove his coat, the look of lust in his eyes making them glow.
Olivia tilted her head and mimicked in a cockney accent, “Fancy a bit of a tup, guv?” She slipped her gown off her shoulders, one side at a time. “Only a ha’penny for easy and quick, but if ’n you mean to be rough and take long, it’ll cost you a shilling.”
“How much for violent plunder?”
“I hold myself dear, sir. Cost you ten pounds for a decent plunder.”
“Done. Cheap at twice the price, I might add. Take off your gown. Slowly.”
“I can’t undo the buttons meself. They’re in the back.”
“Remove your slippers and your stockings first. Then I’ll help you.” He sat and pulled off first his boots, then his stockings. His shirt came next. And finally his trousers. He came toward her and ordered, “Turn your back to me.”
When she did as he asked, he unbuttoned her gown one button at a time, pausing only to kiss each bare spot underneath. He inhaled roses, the scent that drove him wild. “No chemise, my love?”
“No. It would have spoiled the line of my morning gown. Can you unbutton me just a bit faster?”
“Not on your life. This is proving to be far too much fun.” When he reached her waist, he pushed her gown down and held both breasts while he kissed her, his lips traveling down her spine to the last button. He let go of her breasts and continued to unbutton her. “There,” he said with a hoarse voice, and discarded the gown on the floor. “Lie down and let me feast my eyes on my bride.”
She did as he asked, longing to run her fingers down his chest, now slick with sweat. She shivered, but not from cold. His lips found one breast, then the other, sending heat through her in wild waves. One hand spread her legs apart. His fingers played while he raised himself high enough to kiss her, his tongue exploring her mouth.
“Don’t stop, my love,” she panted when he pulled his lips away and slid down her body.
“I won’t,” he murmured, and buried his face between her legs, his tongue laving her until she gasped for breath. She arched her back, while his hands lifted her buttocks. He could feel the heat of her coursing through him like a raging river, making him harder still.
“Sebastian,” she screamed, her body shuddering under the battering of his tongue. She clutched his hair and moaned as wave after wave of pleasure assaulted her.
Her screams drove him wild as he removed the hands that clutched his hair so painfully. Breathing hard, he fell on his back by her side and tried to calm himself.
“Why do you stop, my love?”
He turned toward her, a slight smile on his lips. “Let me rest a bit. I’d rather not embarrass myself.”
“May I touch you there?”
“No. Not if you wish me to consummate our union as man and wife. Lie still for a moment.” He could feel her eyes upon him. “You
’re making love to me with your eyes, aren’t you?”
“I can’t help it. I want to explore every bit of you. Every ripple. Every ridge. Every crevice. Your body is magnificent, my love.” She leaned over him and inhaled deeply.
“Stop it. You’re driving me mad, you little tease.” He rolled on top of her, pushing her legs apart as he did. His engorged penis found her entrance, but he held back. “Slow is better, my love.”
Olivia let him inch into her, biting her lip to keep from breathing too hard. She reached up and wiped the sweat from his brow. “I love you, Sebastian. I always will. For the rest of our lives.”
His pace quickened and she arched to meet his thrusts. He went deeper. Harder. Faster. Until he exploded inside her, his thrusts taking her with him to another world. It brought her to life like a blinding light in a tunnel. She felt glory in the throbbing of her inner muscles, as they grasped and released him over and over again.
He tried to roll away, but she held him close. “No, don’t move yet.”
“I’ll crush you, my sweet.” He rose up on his palms.
“You’re not such a heavy burden. And I’m not such a delicate flower.”
He laughed. “You want the truth? In the throes of passion I may have forgotten your name.”
“Then let me introduce you, sir. My name is Mrs. Brooks, wife of England’s premier spymaster.”
He shook his head and turned serious. “You’re only half correct, ma’am.” He rolled on his back and lifted her with him until she rested on top of him.
“Which half?”
“If I heard the vicar correctly, there can be no doubt in my mind that you are Mrs. Brooks, milady. But you are no longer the wife of the spymaster.”
She sat bolt upright. “What are you talking about? Have you resigned your post? Why would you do such a thing?”
“Actually, I was asked to resign by the home secretary.” He raised an eyebrow as if appraising her. “Have I mentioned that you have beautiful breasts, Mrs. Brooks?”