“Who the hell is it?” Lord Northcliffe was not a man she could easily approach at the best of moments.
“Do you need help?” Maggie inquired timidly.
The door flew open, his lordship had donned his robe, but failed to fasten it. She looked away as he barked, “Get someone, now!”
Maggie darted down the hall, and Jenkins and McDougall nearly ran her over at the stairs. “The animals … Miss Zel’s room.”
She followed them back down the hall, peeking around Jenkins through the open door. The room looked like a whirlwind had struck, chairs and tables overturned, bed drapes ripped, glass and crockery littering the floor. His lordship, dressing gown now securely tied, straddled Remus. That animal was still, finally recognizing a beast wilder than himself.
Miss Zel huddled in the bed, blankets pulled up over her bosom, clutching the cat to her chest with bare arms. Two sets of slanted eyes stared at Maggie, wide and unblinking.
“Straighten the furniture and get that glass up before someone’s cut,” his lordship snapped.
Miss coughed. Maggie looked up from the glass. Gracious, this was not a time to be laughing.
“What’s so funny, Lady Northcliffe?” his lordship growled.
Miss’s laughter rolled out. “I’m … sorry.”
Lord Northcliffe climbed off the dog, motioning to Mc-Dougall. “Take this thing into my chambers.” He pulled the cat from the giggling Miss Zel, placing the animal in Jenkins’s arms. “Jenkins, join him, I’ll be there shortly. We’ll find a way to control these beasts or consign them to hell.”
He sat on the bed beside Miss Zel as Maggie lowered her head, filling an unbroken vase with shattered glass. “The comedy is over, calm yourself.”
“I’m sorry.” Miss tried unsuccessfully to choke back more laughter. “You are so … funny.”
“Me? Funny?” Maggie could hear the scowl, as he bit out the words. “Explain yourself, madam wife.”
“Madam wife …” She was off on another peal. “If only you … see yourself.”
“Satan’s horns, I think the world was safer before I tried to thaw the ice maiden.” He paused, then continued, his voice very low and controlled. “Go on, explain yourself.”
“Well, first … you looked like a stallion.” She stopped laughing. “Kind of magnificent, ah, ready to mount a mare.”
Maggie gasped. “Miss Zel!”
“Miss Zel, indeed. Close your ears, Maggie, finish with that glass and leave.” His voice dipped so low, Maggie had to strain to hear. “And that was funny?”
“No.” Miss gulped. “It was more funny when you mounted Remus and wilted.”
His lordship’s tone fell even lower, rasping out roughly, “You are treading on dangerous ground.”
“You said to explain.”
“The devil save men from plain-spoken virgins.” He tripped over Maggie’s feet. “And their redheaded maids.”
“Pardon, m’lord.” But he was already through the connecting door, slamming it behind him.
Miss Zel sighed from the big bed. “Hand me my wrapper, Maggie.”
Maggie winced at the bangs and crashes coming from the next room. “Seems they’re tearing up his lordship’s chambers now.”
Her mistress slipped on the thin silk wrapper, a broad grin lighting her face. “Yes, it seems they are.”
“Smile,” Zel hissed at him. “We barely made it through dinner, and your thundercloud attitude is not helping.”
Wolfgang surveyed the unwanted guests milling about the informal salon, whispering through bared teeth. “Better?” He glared at his toadeating cousin who stood nearby, leering relentlessly at Zel. The idiot seemed to have no idea he was putting his life in danger.
Zel stared coolly at Wolfgang. Then she pulled away from him, turning to her new cousin, Adam.
Grasping her hand, Wolfgang replaced it at his elbow, his voice low. “We’ll face this together. I need your restraint. Without it, I may do bodily injury to someone. I wasn’t thinking when I had Raf and Freddie leave after the wedding breakfast. They could have at least sat on your father and my mother.”
Zel’s father chose that moment to appear and grab Wolfgang’s hand, giving it a squeeze and shake while raising a champagne glass in his free hand. “ ’Gratulations, old man. Glad to have you part of the family.” He leaned his rounded belly forward, conspiratorially, not bothering to lower his voice. “Even if you had to get under her skirts to get her to the altar.”
“Fleetwood.” Wolfgang laid his warm hand over Zel’s stiff, cold one at his elbow, his throat tight. “You will treat my wife with the respect due her.”
Sir Edward’s ruddy cheeks reddened more. “Don’t get yourself in a snit. You know I respect the chit—”
“I am not a chit,” Zel interrupted. “If I told you—”
“See, she don’t respect me,” Sir Edward whined.
“Champagne, cousin?” Adam smiled, placing a filled glass in Zel’s hand, hovering too close to Zel on the other side, eyes again focused on the low décolletage of her pale green silk gown. Wolfgang felt another wave of anger stir in his chest. Satan’s tail, he wasn’t going to be a jealous husband, was he? Zel would have more sense than to conduct a flirtation with his foppish cousin. But they hadn’t spoken about what marriage meant, about fidelity, commitment, children—all those damn things he didn’t want to think about.
Drawing her away abruptly, rudely, from her father and Adam, he whispered, “I expect you to be faithful.”
Zel jerked about, golden sparks flashing in her eyes. “Giving orders so soon, my lord.”
“You promised only this morning to obey me.”
She choked on her champagne.
“As I think on it now, you didn’t say obey.” He hauled her against him, breathing in her ear. “You mumbled that part.”
“How could I agree to obey?” Her sweet smile contrasted with the flames still burning in her eyes. “That would be a lie.”
Wolfgang smiled back. “You said love clearly enough.”
A bright flush suffused her cheeks.
“No quick answer, my dear?” He widened his smile.
“Well.” She collected herself. “I do care about you a tiny bit, so it’s not such a big lie. And you have no room to taunt me. Even people outside the chapel heard you say …”
He used his most seductive tones on her. “Heard me say what, Gamine?”
“That part about, ah, with my body …” Zel stumbled over the words.
Wolfgang nodded, unwilling to help. “Yes?”
She blurted out, “With my body I thee worship.”
“And that, if we can ever be alone, will be no lie.” He greeted Zel’s friend Emily, approaching on Robin’s arm, with a full grin. Robin looked more than a little dog bit, and less than eager to converse with his new brother-in-law.
“Lies?” Emily teased, her dimples peeping out. “I hope you two are not starting your life together with lies.”
“All lies …” Robin slurred, stepping his lanky frame up to Wolfgang, staring at him with bloodshot eyes. “You’ll answer to me if you hurt her.”
“We’ve been through this before, Robin.” Wolfgang met his gaze sternly. “Don’t make a fool of yourself. She’s my wife now. I’ll protect her as I deem necessary.”
“Wolfgang, Robin.” Zel tugged at Robin’s sleeve. “Why must you two constantly posture and fight like a couple of roosters. I do not require protection.”
Robin jerked his arm roughly from her grasp. “Buy my notes … she’d sleep with the devil—”
“Fleetwood.” Wolfgang’s low grumble penetrated the younger man’s thick skull, and he closed his mouth with a sullen glare.
Zel turned to smile at Wolfgang’s mother and sister, who had joined the growing circle. “Mrs. Hardwicke, how can I make these two behave?”
“You cannot.” His mother, even from a half foot shorter, seemed to look down her straight nose at her son, her voice calculated to freeze. “It
seems as if my son has married into the perfect sort of family, for him.”
Wolfgang’s lovely sister smiled at him, her little shrew teeth showing. “Yes, dear brother, your new relations are certainly all you could ask them to be.”
“Dearest daughter and granddaughter.” Grandmama stepped to his side, her tone deceptively even, but her warning rang clear. “You should be considering an early bedtime, you have far to travel tomorrow and should get an early start.”
“Oh, we thought we would stay a few days.” His mother smiled, always eager to do battle with her own mother. “After all, this is the dear boy’s first time inviting us to Cliffehaven.”
“And the last,” Wolfgang muttered under his breath.
“Then none of us shall wear out our welcome. The newlyweds need time alone.” Grandmama signaled the footman for more champagne. “Diana, Dorothea, come join us to toast the bride and groom.” She waited while the guests all gathered round, then raised her glass. “To Zel and Wolfgang, may this union bring them the happiness they deserve.”
Aunt Dorothea pursed her lips, straightening a wrinkle from her gray skirts. “Yes, to the happiness they deserve.” She sipped lightly from her glass.
“May the marriage be fertile.” Sir Edward gulped down his drink and clapped Wolfgang’s mother on her back. “As well it should be. Your lad is a potent, virile fellow and my Zel, though not a spring chick, won’t be a shirker. Clever girl like her will get knocked up in no time. Probably already is.”
“Edward!” Aunt Diana stared at her brother, coughing repeatedly. Then she turned to the rest of the company with a conciliatory smile. “Er, yes, wasn’t it Shakespeare who said ‘it is a wise father that begets his own child’?”
Wolfgang’s sister gasped. “They shouldn’t be let out in polite society.”
His mother’s glare alternated between Diana and Sir Edward.
Robin snorted.
Aunt Dorothea sniffed arrogantly. “Breeding will tell.” She mumbled something, which Wolfgang couldn’t catch, about a barnyard.
Emily Carland laughed so hard she spilled champagne down her watered-silk gown.
Grandmama took Diana’s arm. “Yes, dear, I believe between Shakespeare and the Bible something like that was said.”
Zel stood very still, her face pale. Wolfgang squeezed her arm gently. “I’ll make our excuses.” He turned to address the sniffing, snorting, laughing, glaring group. “My wife and I bid you farewell. We’ll retire for the evening now and will not rise until after you have departed.” He smiled an advance thanks to Grandmama and escorted his silent bride from the room. “And if they don’t leave, I’ll growl fiercely and chase them all out.”
Zel smiled a little uncertainly at him as he directed her up the wide central staircase. “Beware of the Big Bad Earl.”
He laughed. “The Big Bad Wolfgang.” Slipping an arm around her shoulders, he lowered his voice seductively. “Now come into my chamber, little girl.”
She batted her eyelashes, jumping quickly into his playful mood. “What a big house this is, I fear I may get lost.”
“The better to keep you here, my dear.” He chuckled, feeling better every inch he moved away from the menagerie downstairs. “Through here, little girl.” He opened the door to his bedroom.
As he pushed her inside, she gasped coquettishly. “What a big room, it’s far larger than mine.”
“The better for our comfort, my dear.”
She glanced at the bed on the far side of the room, her tone a little higher. “And what a big bed, I think we could fit a small battalion on that.”
Softly closing the door, he smiled broadly. “The better to please you in, my dear.”
He watched as she reddened and looked away to the dog lounging in a large three-sided box lined with cushions and draped in blankets near the bed. Remus lifted his head and shifted his paws. Wolfgang put a hand out and the beast stilled.
With a self-satisfied smile, Wolfgang waved toward the opposite side of the bed. “The queen also has a throne.” Hecate sat on a cushioned perch at the top of a tall carved armoire. Her yellow eyes surveyed the beings beneath her.
Zel laughed, a husky little rumble. “This is the product of all that noise earlier this afternoon?”
“Yes, a job well done, a situation well in hand.” He clasped her shoulders, lowering his mouth to hers, meeting her lips with the lightest pressure. His fingers found the tiny pearl buttons at the back of her gown and slowly eased them one by one from the little loops that held them captive.
Zel’s body pressed against his as she went up on her toes to better catch his lips. Her hands slid up his arms, across his shoulders. “What big shoulders you have.”
“The better to hold you with, my dear. And now, little girl, I’m ready for a different game.” Wolfgang pushed urgently at the sleeves of her gown. “I want to see and touch you, all of you.” His lips traced the smooth line of her neck as gown, chemise, and petticoat slipped down, baring her chest and back to her hips. But the purr he heard was not Zel, and he felt her tense in his arms. He pulled back. “What’s wrong, Gamine?”
He followed her eyes from Hecate to Remus. The cat’s unblinking stare and the dog’s liquid brown gaze never wavered from their master and mistress’s embracing forms.
“They are watching us,” Zel whispered.
He blew out the candle then hauled her in, tight to his body. “Satan’s hairy toes! Close your eyes. Ignore them.”
Zel’s voice was tiny. “I cannot. I can still see their eyes, looking.”
“The devil!” He freed Zel, stalking to the furry ball on the armoire. “You mind your own business, little witch. I have been celibate too damn long.”
He strode across the room, grabbing the hound by the scruff of the neck. “And you, shaggy beast, if you interfere any more with the exercise of my husbandly rights, it’s off to outer Mongolia with you.”
Wolfgang released the dog and turned back to the bed, picking up his nearly naked wife, tossing her on top of the covers. A few good tugs and her gown and undergarments landed on the floor. Slippers and stockings followed in rapid order. Two sets of eyes, glowing in the darkness, watched as Wolfgang jerked the thin curtains around the massive four-poster.
He quickly shed his clothing. Remus growled a warning. Wolfgang bared his teeth, an answering growl rising from deep in his chest. The dog lowered his head, whimpering softly.
“It’s bloody time you learned your place in this pack.” He snarled between clenched teeth and made a dive, through the curtains, for the bed. “Zel? Where the hell are you?”
“Over here, this bed is too big.”
“And dark. But don’t worry, I’ll find you.” He pushed toward her voice, sighing as he felt her hands groping for him, moaning when her fingers grasped the perfect spot.
Her usually deep alto came out barely a squeak. “What a big—”
CHAPTER 15
COUNTERPOINT
The act of combining two independent melodies into one harmonic structure in which each reserves its own linear character
Wolfgang circled her hand with his own before she could jerk it away. “Ah, that’s it.”
“But—”
He smothered the rest of her words with his mouth, using his free arm to gather her closer. Her hand clenched tight over his erection. A moan of near pain escaped his lips. Uncaring if he died of pleasure, he slid her hand slowly up and down. Her fingers tensed, gripping him with an unbearable pressure.
“Mother of Lucifer!” He growled, moving her hand faster.
“Am I hurting you?” Zel whispered, a quaver in her voice.
“Killing me, more like.”
She tried to yank her hand free and when he refused to release her, she grasped him harder.
“Lakes of brimstone, woman!” Wolfgang hissed. “You’ll have me exploding and shaming myself before I’ve even started on you.” He caught his breath and pried her fingers loose, laying her hand safely on his chest. �
��I think we’ll go about this differently.”
Turning on his side and raising himself on his elbow, he searched for her face in the darkness. Unable to make out more than a vague outline of her head, he reached eager fingers for the likely location of her cheek.
“Ouch!”
“Devil it! I’m sorry.” His skin heated. He was acting the veriest unschooled infant. What better way to start lovemaking than to poke his wife in the eye. “Did I hurt you?”
“Only a little.” Zel giggled. “But if that is your idea of different, maybe we need to go back to the first plan.”
“No.” Wolfgang pulled her onto her side, wrapping his arms about her, allowing her laughter to infect him and ease his nerves. Nerves? Satan’s short hairs! He was nervous. More nervous even than his first time behind the stables with that wild upstairs maid.
He wanted to please Zel. Hellfire, didn’t he always wish to please his partners? But this went beyond a simple desire for mutual sexual pleasure. He expected more from their joining. But what? He was setting himself up for a major disappointment. Sex was sex. Still, he could use all his expertise to make this memorable for them both. As he nuzzled her neck, he considered the perfect beginning for the perfect night. “I know just the thing. And the third time will be the charm.”
Zel skimmed her lips lightly over his face as if seeking his mouth. He stopped her search short, claiming her with a deep kiss, tasting her lips and tongue. She pressed herself to him so tightly he could define the contours of her breasts, ribs, and thighs. But he wasn’t close enough. He clasped each mound of her firm, rounded bottom in a hand and pulled her into him, grinding his arousal into her smooth, flat abdomen.
This was not his plan at all. Wolfgang reluctantly freed her mouth and kissed his way down to the pulse beating hard and fast along the column of her neck. He slipped over her collarbone and settled in at her breasts, burying his face in the soft valley. Her fingers fastened onto his shoulders.
Demon’s fangs, he could lie like this forever. But there was so much more to explore. He circled a taut nipple with his tongue, then drew the bud slowly into his mouth, caressing the pebbled texture with his lips. The little moans bubbling up her throat stirred the blood already boiling through his veins. Abruptly abandoning her nipple, he laved a wet trail to her navel, dropping a kiss in its center.
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