“Well!” Louisa huffed with indignation to the smiling friends and family seated at the table across from her staring her way.
It had been a perfect day, so far, and it was still young. Archie was on a perch, behaving himself; Edward would thank Bergen later. Remarkably for the season, the sun was shining, the weather was crisp, and his wedding had gone off without a hitch, or an acid comment from his mother. He hoped that continued, because the last thing he wanted was a crying bride. He had not overheard the entire exchange, but he thought he had just witnessed his mother defending his new Countess. What could she be about?
The Dowager casually put down her buttered bread. “Lady Weston, I do not believe I have given you a proper greeting. My son should be chastised for hiding such a beautiful bride away from his mother. How did you come to meet my son?”
Lady Louisa nearly choked on her wine. “You mean you have not heard? They were caught...”
Eyes turned towards the newly wedded couple.
“I believe Lady Weston was speaking to me, dear sister.” Hattie cut Lady Bentley off in mid-sentence. She placed her wine glass down and adjusted her glasses on her face. “Oh dear. I believe you have...” She gestured demurely to her sister in law. “Yes, now that I see it better, I believe it is yellow pollen from the irises in the vase, here, on your face. Perhaps you got too close to the blooms. Mayhap you should go to the retiring room to remove it? I should hate for it to be brushed into your eye by accident.” She smiled sweetly. Her lips still curved, she watched Louisa leave the room in a barely concealed temper.
“My lady," she addressed Edward's mother, "I believe you were asking how we met?”
Edward looked at his wife with renewed respect. He had been ready to intervene at his mother’s question, but when Hattie had squeezed his hand, he had stopped. He had not married a shrinking violet. He glanced down and saw that his wife’s hand was trembling slightly in her lap, the only sign of her fear. Even so, she had managed to rebuke her disagreeable sister-in-law, twice, and with kindness. It occurred to him that now would be a good time to rescue her. He cleared his throat, drawing the attention of everyone around him.
“Mother, we met by chance at a posting house. I noticed her as soon as I arrived.” He had seen her, but it had taken drink and fate to awaken him to her special qualities. He smiled at his mother, waiting for any further questions. She merely nodded in their direction, a peculiar expression on her face.
Bentley smiled and nodded, clearly pleased with his response.
Oddly, his mother was still beaming with pride and looking directly at his wife. “My dear, I believe we will become great friends. I think this could have been the first thing—" She smiled up at her son. "—he and I have agreed upon in an age!”
“Thank you, Mother, I think.” He smiled. “I look forward to that.”
Hattie was no longer showing any outward signs of nerves. Had he died and gone to heaven where he had a mother who could possibly like his wife, and perhaps, one day, like him a little too? Edward considered his luck as he took a large sip from his glass of wine.
A footman finished serving champagne to all the guests, ending with Bergen.
“A toast!” he cried, standing, his glass elevated. “A toast to my best friend and his new bride. May each day bring you closer and may your marriage be long and prosperous.”
“Hear, hear!” Collective voices resounded.
“May I offer a toast?”
Edward's mother also rose to her feet, startling him yet again. Unsure of what to say or anticipate, he nodded.
“To my son and my new daughter-in-law. May you find all you need in this life from each other.” She smiled and gave a slight nod in his direction before sitting down again.
“Hear, hear!” The table of voices chanted back.
“Hear, hear!” asserted Archie shrilly. Everyone broke into laughter, including Edward's mother and his new bride. The bird flapped; it seemed to be his way to say he was pleased with himself.
Edward gazed at his mother. She seemed well. But was this the same woman he had spoken with just a day ago? He wrestled with his thoughts, unsure of what to think. His eyes sought out his friend, and noticed he had been watching. Bergen merely shrugged.
“Edward.” Hattie’s quiet voice drew his attention. “I need to be excused to the retiring room. I will be back, husband.” She smiled at him as she withdrew from the table.
Edward watched his wife leave, and then gazed in his mother’s direction, catching a smile from her. Perhaps this is her idea of a truce. If so, he would take it. He reached for a fresh glass of wine from the footman. In his estimation, this day was only going to get better. He nodded to Bergen, and took another sip of wine, feeling optimistic for the first time in a while.
Hattie had smiled and greeted more titled people that day then she had ever met, collectively. Everyone was suddenly deferential and calling her ‘lady.’ These gatherings were much more sophisticated than such events in her village. Being a countess was exhausting. She would happily return to being Hattie Longbottom and live alone in the cottage in Little Whitley. She was grateful to have spectacles once again. That had been a most considerate and surprising gift from her new husband. Husband. What a strange feeling, to think she was forever bound to this man when she had resolved to be a spinster. It gave her the most pressing headache. Perhaps a few moments' rest would not be noticed. Whispering her intent to Weston, she escaped from the ballroom and was walking toward the staircase when she overheard voices arguing.
“Philip, what are you doing here? You are not known to these people and after that disastrous duel a year ago, I thought we had agreed...”
“Dear sister, do not portend to lecture me. I need funds. I came to get them from you. I seem to find myself momentarily short of the ready. No one is paying me.”
“You mean your blackmail scheme has failed? You killed a man. His friends—” She lowered her voice. “—are here. You told me how angry you were that he had not believed the debts you made up. You should leave, before someone recognizes you and connects it to things they have heard about others! Find another way to cover your debts.”
“What would you know of the matter? My funds have been covering your gambling habit. You are as much a part of this as I am.”
“No! I never told you to seek revenge on...”
“Silence! You will not say another word. I will tell you the way of it, sister. If you do not get me five thousand pounds I will share your gambling habit with your dear husband.”
“No, you will not.”
“Yes, I most certainly will. And you will get the money for me because if you make your husband aware of my misdeed, I will point to him as the one who killed that man.”
“You cannot. You were seen.”
“By a spineless coward. I took care of him. He will never say anything.”
The woman shrieked, “You killed another?”
A slap echoed in the hallway and Hattie decided to move to safety. She was not sure what this was about, but she knew it was something bad... and her brother could be hurt by it.
She gasped. When had her sister-in-law turned in to such a wretched human being? Although it was true she had not had many dealings with Louisa, there had been a time when she had thought her tolerable, if not amiable. Now, she could only see her as selfish and cruel. Poor Richard! Did he have any idea? Should she tell him, or should she mind her own business?
Mayhap Weston could advise her. He was her husband, after all. She would try to determine what she should do later, but for now she must lie down. She walked to her chamber instead of the retiring room and decided a few moments on the settee would ease the pain in her head.
Hattie felt she must be having her special dream again, the one where the handsome stranger came to sweep her off her feet and carry her away to a new life. The difference, this time, was that it was her handsome husband’s face she saw. She tried not to fight the dream, telling herself she was n
ow married and these activities would be necessary. The sensations she felt were strange; she could not yet decide whether or not they were pleasurable. He was whispering endearments into her ear, his warm breath making her shiver. As he showered tender kisses upon her neck and face, her arms slipped wantonly over her head to allow him greater access to her body. The invitation was accepted, and his warm hands began to roam all over her. Hattie heard a moan and realized it came from her own lips as her husband began to caress her in tender places. Her body writhed of its own accord, seeking she knew not what, and she was filled with a longing for something she could not name.
“Yes, that’s my girl. Let yourself relax,” he encouraged.
“Oh...” She moaned as his hand slid, inch by teasing inch, down over her abdomen and lower... She woke up fully and started at his intimate touch.
“Shh. It is only I, my dear. Do not fight it. And please, do not beat my... snake with a pillow!” He laughed.
“I did not know before,” she whimpered.
“You were, nevertheless, enjoying my ministrations.”
She was now, as well, and she blushed with the knowledge. He was exploring places she hardly dared touch herself, save when bathing.
“Close your eyes and allow it to happen, Hattie. I will not harm you.”
“I know,” she whispered, willing herself to calm down and stop trembling.
Allow it to happen. Sally had said the same, earlier.
He lifted her from the settee and began to unbutton her gown. She must have fallen into a deep sleep. Passively, she allowed him to slide the garment down her body. She wished she could have stayed safely dreaming for a bit longer. Now she was self-conscious about what he would think of her, and what was to come. No doubt there had been scores of other women, if Louisa’s hurtful remarks were to be believed, and now, on her wedding day, Hattie could only think of how unsatisfactory a lover she would be. Picking her up, Edward carried her across the room to place her on the bed. She could feel the strength in his arms and thighs, the muscled breadth of his chest and the firmness of... She swallowed, certain that part of him would not fit where God ordained it should. He came down beside her, the feel of his skin warm against hers. Her stomach turned a somersault.
“Edward?”
“Mm?” The murmur had a questioning note as, with lips, tongue, and fingers, he stroked and teased her flesh. It was decidedly difficult to think when he did such things.
“How is this going to work?” She realized she had asked an inappropriate question by the look of abject horror which crossed his face. He blinked twice and then relaxed.
“Do you know nothing about what happens between a man and a woman?”
“A little,” she answered shyly. “I know your...” she waved downward... “joins with me.” She swallowed again. Why had she asked? He must think her an unsophisticated simpleton, but she could not help it.
A look of tenderness crossed his face and he pulled himself up to lie on his side next to her, though he continued to caress her.
“I should have asked you first. I did not think properly when I saw you lying on the settee... I wanted to make you my wife.”
He wanted her? It was a shocking thought.
“I will slow down and prepare you for me. It will fit and it will feel good to you—at least after the first time.”
“I believe you.” And she did. He was being very kind and patient with her, for which she was grateful. It could have been very different.
“Hattie?”
“Yes?”
“You can touch me, too. In fact, I would rather you participated. The physical side of marriage can be wonderfully pleasurable for both of us.”
Hattie could scarcely believe what she was hearing.
“Not only harlots and whoremongers are allowed to enjoy this.” He laughed seductively in her ear as his hand explored further.
She jumped when he reached her most intimate place; a shock of sensation swept through her body. It was hard not to giggle.
“Does that feel nice?” he asked, circling his tongue around her ear.
“Yes,” she replied breathlessly.
“Put your hands on me. Touch me, explore me; know me, my wife.
She could barely concentrate, given what his hands were doing to her body, but she placed her own, trembling, hand upon his chest. It was difficult to lie still for the sensations spreading through her body. Her hand grew bold and began to explore his hard, muscular chest and abdomen. The fine hair was like nothing she had ever felt and she teased it through her fingers. She continued downward; the hair grew thicker and she found the part of him which was supposed to join him to her. Suddenly, she knew a longing to feel, to understand; she became dizzy with the very thought.
Boldly, she placed her hand on him, slowly turning herself towards his embrace.
She heard him laughing as though through a tunnel. Heat coursed along her veins and over her skin as he continued to touch her.
“I agree. I think you are ready,” he said, supporting himself on his arms above her.
Tension shot through her body as she felt him enter her. She gasped at the pressure.
“You must relax now,” he gently commanded. “It will pass.”
After a moment, the discomfort eased and as he continued to kiss her, she felt him fill her completely. It was like nothing she had ever felt before. Strange pulsations began to sweep through her body, and she felt pleasure previously unknown to her. Then he began to move within her and she held onto his body, wanting him closer. A storm began to grow inside her; a tempest of emotion which exploded in an intense series of spasms that swarmed her senses until she felt her consciousness fading.
When she came to, a warm arm and leg were draped over her naked body. She turned to see Edward watching her.
It was hard not to panic, and she began fumbling for something with which to cover herself. His hand reached out to stop her.
“Hattie.”
She froze.
“No. Why do you wish to hide from me?”
“I—am unused to baring myself, my lord.”
“Come.” He stood, confident in his full, naked glory, and held his hand out to her. She took it, though she held her other hand to cover herself as much as possible. Taking her spectacles from the side-table, he placed them gently on her nose before leading her to the looking-glass. He stood behind her and she thought she must die of mortification. Never before had she looked at herself thus.
“Please do not make me do this. I know I am not what you are used to.”
“You are correct.” He took his hand and pulled her hair to the side and traced his lips over her neck. “You are much more beautiful.”
She swallowed nervously and watched him lazily watching her in the glass while he began to touch her all over again. His voice sent shivers down her body when he whispered how perfect was every part of her, whilst caressing each place. Soon, her body was on fire and her legs were trembling. She was certain she would swoon if he continued.
“I want you to see what I see, Hattie.”
When he touched her like that, she doubted she would see much for long. Fortunately, he was merciful and led her back to the bed for further explorations into the realms of marital bliss.
.
Chapter 8
The sun sliced through the heavy pink curtains, waking Edward. He turned to look at his wife, still sleeping beside him, her arm draped over his chest. He lifted the thick velour cover slightly and took in the sight of her—which created an immediate longing. Her eyes fluttered open and the corner of her mouth drew up in a slight smile. He never would have guessed the indignant spinster from the inn would have turned out to be so…voracious in bed.
He noticed she did not move away from him. “You are awake, Lady Weston.” He rose over her and looked into her eyes. “Are you hungry, wife?” His eyes glinted mischievously.
“Yes, but...uh...I have an even stronger craving, one that is new to me,”
she confessed, she squeezed her eyes almost shut, against a wave of sudden shyness.
“I think I know what the lady needs.” His voice was low and seductive. “My lady wife, you are full of surprises. I think I am going to enjoy being leg-shackled to you.” Slowly, he pulled the covers over his head and began sprinkling kisses down her throat and on, lower, towards her most intimate place.
“Edward...it is morning.”
“And a very beautiful one indeed. Let us not waste a moment of it.”
A loud scuffling noise in the hall roused them both away from their pleasure.
“I do not know when I have had such an energetic night…and morning...and still, I have managed to wake so refreshed.” He folded his arms behind his head and looked up at the ceiling, seeing nothing, really. It felt good. “We should probably dress and go down to break our fast. I find that I do not want to leave the bed.” Last night, and this morning—it had been more than he had anticipated. His little wife was completely different in the bedroom. She had probably surprised herself, he thought, smiling. “You do not mind if I refer to our pleasuring each other, do you, wife?”
“Edward...” She seemed impatient to tell him something. “Edward, would you mind terribly if we talked before we get dressed? I heard something upsetting and feel that I should tell you.”
“Did my mother say something? Please, just tell me and...” He knew he should have been more protective towards Hattie in the presence of his mother.
She interrupted him. “No, Edward, it was not your mother. She has actually been most gracious to me. We chatted for only a few moments yesterday, but I am hopeful she will spend some time with us.” She sighed loudly.
“What is it, my dearest?” He realized he had just called her dearest. It surprised him, but he did feel comfortable with her, with this—and with more. Nevertheless, he was not ready to reflect on those thoughts. He would rather just enjoy.
“I fear you may become angry when I tell you, but I am so confused over it.”
Earl of Weston_Wicked Regency Romance Page 8