A wedding night Bella was no longer looking forward to with anticipation.
The Lysander who had arrived at Trent House with her was not the playful man she had enjoyed slipping away from Landingham House with such a short time ago. This Lysander was tight-lipped and cold-eyed.
Admittedly, it had been unpleasant to be set upon by ruffians in that way, and to learn someone—Arthur?—had paid them to do so. But surely that should have drawn Bella and Lysander closer together rather than cause this rift between them.
She smiled at the butler. “No, I believe I shall manage perfectly well on my own, thank you. But perhaps a pot of tea might be nice?” Hopefully it might also dispel the knot of icy coldness twisting and churning inside her.
It was over an hour, and several cups of tea later, when a knock sounded briefly on the connecting door between her own bedchamber and Lysander’s. He did not wait for her acknowledgment but entered immediately. The coldness of his expression as he looked at her indicated his mood had not improved from earlier.
Bella rose nervously to her slippered feet, very aware she was wearing only a thin cream silk nightgown and matching robe. Both of them were a gift from Angelique. Bella had also taken down her hair and brushed it until it shone in a golden curtain almost to her waist.
“I am sorry for my delay.” Lysander’s words were curt. “I thought it best to send a note to my brother, to warn him and Tia to take special care when leaving later tonight.”
“That was very thoughtful of you.”
Kindness had nothing to do with Lysander deliberately lingering downstairs in the hopes time might calm his temper before he spoke with Bella again. It had not succeeded.
He grimaced. “I did not expect him to come straight here to make sure we were both unharmed.”
“I did not hear his carriage arrive.” She frowned. “It was most solicitous of him to come personally and assure himself of our well-being.”
Lysander snorted. “I could well have done without his telling me how stupid it was for us to have left Landingham House without first informing a member of the family.”
“That is…unfortunate.”
“It is less unfortunate that he has agreed, with the help of Viscount Brooketon, to attempt to find Billy and his two hapless friends. The viscount has…connections, within that underworld, we are not privy to,” he explained as he saw Bella’s puzzlement.
“Do you think they will find them?”
“Given time, yes.” Lysander pace the room for several minutes before he finally spoke again. “In the meantime, I now find myself faced with something of a dilemma.”
“In what way, my lord?”
“Lysander,” he bit out. “In the bedchamber, we will be Lysander and Bella.”
She gave a gracious nod of her head. “As you wish.”
He gave a rueful shake of his head. “Now you have decided to be acquiescent?”
She chewed on her bottom lip. “I thought it best when I have obviously displeased you in some way.”
Lysander heartily disliked that look of apprehension on Bella’s face and the wariness in her gaze. But he could do nothing currently to alleviate those emotions when he knew she was wise to feel that way.
She looked absolutely beautiful with her hair loose and shining about her shoulders. The silk of her robe and nightgown revealed the proud pout of her nipples beneath, the cream material caressing the silkiness of skin along her arms and thighs.
Under other circumstances, Lysander knew he would have fallen at her feet before worshipping every inch of her. Several times.
But these were not other circumstances, and Bella had blatantly defied him earlier.
He arched a brow. “Are you denying all knowledge of the reason for that displeasure?”
Her frown was pained. “How can I do any other when I do not know the reason?”
Lysander clenched his jaw. “Did you not swear vows to me in church today?”
Her puzzled frown remained. “We swore vows to each other.”
“But they were not the exact same vows. The word obey was in your own vows to me, Bella,” he reminded her impatiently, finding it difficult to remain unaffected by the confusion in those beautiful violet eyes. “And mere hours later, you failed to do so.”
“In what way did I…?” Her brow cleared, and she smiled chidingly. “You could not expect me to sit idly by while those men attempted to kill you.”
He gritted his teeth. “I could and I did. Besides which, they had not stated it was their intention to kill me when you broke your vow the first time.”
“Well…no,” Bella conceded uncomfortably, at last beginning to understand the reason for his coldness toward her.
“And then you left the carriage, also against my explicit instruction.”
Bella nibbled on a lip that was already red and swollen from being chewed as she waited for Lysander. “What do you intend doing with me?”
Lysander’s nostrils flared. “Therein lies my dilemma.”
“I do not understand…”
“My first instinct is to put you over my knee and spank your bottom raw— No, I accept it is not a viable option,” he conceded as she recoiled. “Not in view of your past…treatment from your brother. But neither can I let such reckless disregard for your own safety go unpunished.”
Bella look at him searchingly. Having stated his case, Lysander no longer seemed quite so cold and angry as he had earlier and when he first entered the bedchamber. Perhaps she might be able to persuade him into forgetting about the anger that remained?
She held his gaze with hers, crossing the bedchamber until she stood just inches in front of him. She continued to hold his gaze as she began to slowly unfasten the buttons of his waistcoat.
Lysander’s hand moved up to close over hers and prevent her unfastening any more buttons. “What do you think you are doing?”
“I thought I might help you undress,” she teased.
A nerve pulsed in the tightness of his jaw. “I have yet to decide whether or not I am to remain here with you tonight.”
Bella tensed. “What do you mean?”
Lysander released her hand to step away and recommence pacing the room. “I am angry with you. I am bloody furious with whoever sent those men to waylay us this evening. I also want to punish you in some way for your disobedience but cannot think of anything suitable.” He gave a disgusted shake of his head. “I am not sure I am in any frame of mind to behave the considerate bridegroom tonight.”
Having spent all of the previous week—possibly even years—mentally preparing herself for this night, Bella now felt her eyes sting with tears of humiliation.
Far from being the eager bridegroom she might have expecting after yesterday and the things he had said to her today, Lysander was now telling her he was undecided as to whether or not he wished to consummate their marriage tonight.
An omission that would not remain a secret from the household staff for long if even one of them realized the marriage had not been consummated, as she knew one of them would. Anyone who employed servants was mistaken if they did not think those servants knew exactly what went on—or did not—within their household. As Jane had previously worked in the duchess’s household, Angelique might even get to hear of it. Bella’s humiliation would be complete.
She turned away. “I think you have succeeded in finding a suitable punishment after all.”
Lysander frowned as he heard the emotional quiver in Bella’s voice. He hoped to God she was not crying. He simply could not deal with her tears this evening. He was already too tense, too restless, to treat her with any of the care and consideration that might be expected of him with a new bride.
She could have been shot and killed earlier. Not intentionally; the man Billy had made it clear he was saving Bella for sport before killing her. Lysander had no intention of allowing things to go that far. But the pistol could have gone off accidentally and the shot might have hit Bella instead of him. Pist
ols were notoriously inaccurate. The mere thought of her lying on the seat of his carriage, the bloom of red blood growing larger on the bodice of her gown, was enough to rouse Lysander’s anger all over again.
And his fear.
He might have originally offered Bella marriage out of a need to protect her and the belief that perhaps their backgrounds meant they deserved each other. But she had come to matter to him the past week. More than he cared to acknowledge at this moment.
Besides, there was only restless violence inside him now from this evening’s events. A need to make someone pay for the fear gnawing at his gut at the possibility of losing Bella. He dare not so much as touch her right now for fear he might unleash that violence upon her. “I should go—”
“You have already kept me waiting an hour for you to join me. If you leave the bedchamber again now without resolving the differences between us, then know I shall never forgive you!”
Lysander’s eyes widened, not just at Bella’s threat but at her expression as she turned to him, her hands clenched at her sides. There were those suspected tears on her cheeks, yes, but there was also a fury burning in her eyes and an angry flush to her face as she glared across the room at him.
She had never looked more beautiful.
The narrowing of her eyes said he would be wise not to voice his admiration out loud. “Bella—”
“I am tired of the men in my life telling me what I should and should not do.” Bella cut across his cajoling tone. “First Arthur, and now you. Yes, the word obey was in our marriage vows, but that is because the church demands it. If I had my way, it would not have been. I am a living, breathing woman, not…chattel for you to order about as you please.” She spat out her disgust with that inference. “I have no intention of blindly obeying you as if I am some ninnyhead without a brain of my own. Nor do I intend to be treated in that way any longer, by you or anyone else.” Her chin tilted in challenge. “I am your wife, and if the situation of earlier this evening were to happen again, I would behave in exactly the same way as I did then.”
Bella was angry, and so full of fear too, for what had almost happened earlier this evening. She was beyond being chastised, beyond feeling humiliation, was well beyond accepting any form of punishment Lysander might consider she deserved for having disobeyed him.
She had been presented with two choices a few minutes ago. To meekly accept Lysander’s decision to leave her on their wedding night, as she had accepted Arthur’s bullying for so many years. Or she could fight for what she wanted.
The gentleness with which Lysander had treated her this past week, the way his family had all taken her and Esther into their hearts, had given her back a pride in herself. Lysander was angry? Well, so was she!
She marched across the bedchamber to stand mere inches in front of him. “This is my wedding night, our wedding night, and if you leave me now, you will cause a rift in our marriage that might never be resolved,” she warned as he continued to stare at her, his brows raised.
Lysander’s anger and restlessness had dissolved so quickly in the face of Bella’s anger, he felt weak at the sudden disappearance of those emotions. Only to be filled with such raging desire seconds later, he instantly became light-headed. No doubt because all the blood had drained from his head and was now thrumming inside his engorged and straining cock.
“I was as apprehensive earlier as you were when those fellows waylaid us, and with more reason.” Bella continued to berate him. “That disgusting man actually stated it was his intention to kill you and throw your body in the Thames. Would you have obeyed me if I had instructed you not to put your life at further risk by attempting to disarm him? Of course you would not,” she answered her own question dismissively. “Because you are a man, and you will not be told what to do. Well, in future, neither will I.” Her chin lifted again. “I am your marchioness, and it is now my right to be concerned for you if you are in harm’s way.”
Lysander had never doubted Bella’s beauty or his desire for her, but her anger and indignity now were truly magnificent. She was magnificent. His magnificent marchioness.
He had admired Bella before this, for her concern for her younger sister’s well-being, which had forced Bella into behaving as she might otherwise not have done. Into accepting his marriage proposal.
For her quiet dignity in the face of her brother’s bullying and harsh treatment of her.
For her genuine friendship with his mother.
For her affectionate deference toward his father.
She had even managed to remain ladylike and composed in the face of Sebastian’s bloody-minded arrogance.
But this Bella was beyond even all those other admirable qualities. She was a woman fighting for that which she believed belonged to her.
Him.
As her husband.
The last of Lysander’s tension left him, and he smiled down at her. “Will you allow me ten minutes to undress and bathe before joining you in your bed?”
Bella blinked her surprise at his sudden acquiescence to her demand before rallying. “No, I will not,” she stated firmly. If Lysander left her bedchamber, it gave him the same ten minutes to reconsider his decision. Right here and right now, Bella truly believed she was fighting for the future of her marriage. “You will undress and wash in here. There is water in the ewer behind that screen.” She nodded in the direction of the beautiful Chinese silk screen, which gave privacy to one corner of her bedchamber.
“Then might I steal a kiss before I go?” he cajoled.
Her gaze narrowed on him with suspicion. “Are you mocking me, Lysander? Because I assure you, I do not consider this to be a laughing matter—”
“I am both mesmerized and intrigued by my demanding wife, not mocking,” he acknowledged with self-derision. “I also place myself totally at your command,” he added softly.
The rush of emotions responsible for Bella’s anger was starting to dissipate a little, and her self-confidence along with it, rendering her once again uncertain and unsure. She shook off those emotions as she forced herself to meet his gaze. “In that case, you will undress here in the bedchamber before washing, so that I might lie on the bed and watch you as you observed me yesterday.” Warmth flooded her cheeks at this further audacity on her part.
And she wondered, breathlessly, despite what he had said, if Lysander really would allow her to be that vixen he had mentioned earlier. To command him…
Chapter 12
His eyes darkened to the color of a turbulent sea in winter. “And the kiss?”
Bella gave a nod. “You may kiss me before you commence undressing.”
That smile continued to curve Lysander’s lips as he stepped close enough that she could now feel the heat of his body and the press of the length of his engorged cock against her abdomen. His arousal seemed to confirm he really was mesmerized and intrigued by this new Bella.
He lowered his head. “If I did not tell you before, then please know how very beautiful you looked in your wedding finery today.” His breath was warm against her lips, the burning intensity of his gaze holding her captive.
“Thank you.” She breathed as shallowly as he, longing for the touch of his lips against her own but holding herself back from closing even that short distance between them. The new, demanding Bella would not give in to that temptation. No matter how much she wanted his kiss, wanted him.
Lysander’s lips skimmed the heat of her cheeks, the tense line of her jaw, before moving upward to claim Bella’s lips with his own.
He gave a groan and pulled Bella in tighter against him as her lips parted beneath his. Lysander instantly deepened the kiss by plunging his tongue into her mouth, claiming her in the same way his cock now strained and pulsed in its eagerness to claim, to own her pussy.
His forehead was damp from the effort of restraining that need when he finally broke the kiss and rested it against hers, ever conscious that he had given Bella control of their lovemaking. “Will you take off your r
obe for me while I undress? I would ask for my wife to be completely naked,” he admitted huskily. “But I do not think she will allow it.”
Bella chewed on her bottom lip, further plumping it, before answering him. “I will allow it.” She stepped back, out of his arms, before removing her robe and placing it over the stool in front of her dressing table. She held his gaze shyly with hers as she reached for the hemline of her nightgown and slowly moved it upward.
Oh God…
Lysander was so aroused, he almost spilled himself at first sight of Bella’s silky legs being revealed to him. Then her thighs, with those golden curls at their apex. The slenderness of her waist. Finally, those firm, ripe breasts tipped with red and engorged nipples.
Bella’s hair became a glorious, tousled cascade about her shoulders and breasts once she had removed the nightgown completely. That golden wildness, along with her nakedness, her plumped and reddened lips, and the dark desire burning in her eyes, were all enough to cause Lysander’s cock to pulse and surge, and he could feel the pre-cum wetting the front of his pantaloons.
Watching her as she climbed onto the bed to lie back among the array of pillows rendered him totally breathless and unable to move. She looked like a model posing for an artist, lying to one side, breasts pert, knees slightly bent and thighs demurely together.
Surely no artist could ever do justice to her beauty.
Bella’s skin was as delicate as fine porcelain. Her breasts were sloped and perfect, her waist slender, the curve of her hips a promise of sensual delight.
But it was the expression in her eyes and the smile that tilted her lips, a mixture of both innocent and siren, which held Lysander transfixed.
“I am waiting,” she reminded him, her voice as smooth as silk.
Lysander snapped out of the spell he had been under. “Do you have any preference as to where I stand when I undress?”
Seduced by a Marquis (Regency Unlaced 8) Page 11