On A Cold Christmas Eve

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  Truthfully, Adam wanted to sweep Lucy upstairs and into his bed, just as he had for the last two days, and it was nearly driving him mad. He wanted to run his hands along her lush curves and tangle his fingers in her hair to see if it really was as silky as it appeared. He knew she would be tight, as she was still untouched, but he didn't care. He wanted to lose himself between her thighs and teach her all of the pleasures of the flesh.

  In the last few days he'd come to know Lucy rather well and everything he knew, he adored beyond any logical reason. From the way she could converse intelligently about nearly any subject, to her quick wit and humorous personality, he found himself becoming very enamored of his bride. It wasn't love, certainly, but it was an intense like, coupled with extreme desire, and, for the moment, he was content with that.

  Adam knew that Lucy still considered herself beneath him, but he was certain that she would overcome that notion in time. In his heart, he knew he couldn't have chosen a more perfect bride if he would have searched the world over. He simply needed her to see that. Quite simply, she was the woman he had never thought he would find.

  He also needed her to see that he wanted her in his bed. Badly. It had been quite some time since he'd been with a woman, but until this moment, he'd been content in his celibacy. No longer, especially not when he could have his wife in his bed within the hour.

  However, he wouldn't. He hadn't courted Lucy properly, hadn't kissed her or allowed her to grow accustomed to his touch. In fact, this had all happened so suddenly that he hadn't even noticed that her eyes had a slightly green hue around the edges until he'd seen her in the stunning sapphire gown she'd worn for the wedding. No, he would bed Lucy in time. After all, there could be no children without it, but despite her time in India and the freedoms she'd enjoyed there, there was still much she didn't know about men. He would not rush her, though he did hope that by Twelfth Night, she would be sharing his bed regularly.

  "I was thinking we should take a walk," he finally suggested, taking her hand. It was either that or risk ravishing her here in the hall, in full view of everyone, which wouldn't do at all. "I know the air is cold, but the rain has stopped, at least for now, and it would be a good time for it. I'll show you the estate in full later, but for now, I believe the gardens will suffice."

  He was gratified when she took his arm and offered him a smile. "That would be lovely, Adam." He was even more gratified when she didn't make an attempt to pull away from him as he placed a cloak around her shoulders, and instead leaned a bit more fully into his touch. Perhaps it wouldn't take him long to convince her to come to his bed after all.

  Together they walked out onto the terrace and then down the cut-stone steps to where the garden lay dormant. He watched her as her gaze took in the barren grounds, yet he didn't see the disgust he'd anticipated, and would have expected in another woman. In the spring and summer, Overlook Hill was magnificent, but now in the dead of winter, it looked decayed and rotted. It would take a strong woman to see the possibilities, to see what it would become when the Earth awoke again. He was pleased to see that Lucy was just such a woman.

  "It must be magnificent in the summer," she finally said, turning to look at where a fountain, with a cupid in the center, lay dormant. "Such life and possibilities here. It reminds me of my home when I first returned to England before my come-out."

  "Treton Hall," he said, pleased that she could see the potential within his home. "I visited once a few years ago. It is still magnificent, and well cared for, and, unless I miss my guess, it will be overrun with even more children than it is now within a few years."

  Lucy reached out to touch a dead rose. "My uncle sold it immediately after my father died. I have not been back since, but I am glad to know that the new owners care for it as my family did. I should wish to see it sometime, even though I know it is not possible."

  "We can visit whenever we wish," Adam assured her, not surprised when she looked up at him, her aquamarine eyes wide with surprise. "Fitz and Amelia have made it their summer home."

  Lucy felt a mix of shock, sadness, and yet a bit of joy rise up inside of her. She missed the Hall, even though she'd only spent a little more than a year there with her family, but she was glad that someone who could appreciate it and love it as she did had purchased it. She was even happier that it was the woman she was quickly coming to think of a sister.

  "I had no idea," she finally managed, her voice thick with emotion. "From what my uncle said, I had assumed that..." The rest of what she was about to say was cut off when the doors on the terrace flew open and someone called for Adam, a note of panic in their voice.

  Lucy's gaze flew to his face and she saw it set in a grim line. Whatever was happening, she suspected that it wasn't good, at least not with that look upon on his face. With a firm hand, he grasped her arm and led her back through the gardens and across the terrace. It wasn't lost on her that he kept her just to the back of him, as if protecting her, though she had no idea why he would do such a thing.

  By the time they returned to the ballroom, the small orchestra that had been playing was silenced and a cacophony of voices had taken its place. People were moving about nervously, and even though there had been few guests for the wedding, Lucy noticed that most of the men formed a small circle, surrounding someone who stood in the center of the room.

  "Gentlemen," Adam nearly whispered, refusing to raise his voice and display his true anger. That single word made all activity in the room cease as effectively as if he'd shouted. "Is there a problem?" He also gripped Lucy's hand, unwilling to let her out of his sight until he was certain he knew what was happening.

  Harry, dressed in his finest waistcoat, stepped forward. "There is someone here who was just leaving." Then he tossed a dark look over his shoulder, one that spoke of a mind for murder rather than just a polite escort to the door. "Though I would prefer it to be the wine cellar, were that at all possible." It was then that Adam saw the gun clutched tightly in his friend's hand. There was only one reason Harry would reach for a weapon in a crowded ballroom. Archibald had come home.

  Then the one man whom Adam would seriously consider committing unpardonable violence against himself pushed his way out of the circle. "Greetings, brother dear." There was a malevolent look in his eyes as he glared at Lucy, and it wasn't lost on Adam that she shifted more fully behind him for protection. "Still picking up my leftovers, I see. Hope she'll spread her legs for you because from what I've heard, she's not all that willing."

  There was nothing to be done. Archibald was, as always, playing the antagonist and it could not be tolerated. That left Adam no choice, really, not if he wanted to defend his wife's honor. With a great sigh, Adam took a swing at his brother and knocked him out cold with one blow.

  "You didn't have to hit him so hard, my lord," Harry said as the other Runners took Archibald, who was only now regaining his senses, away. "Though I must admit to a certain satisfaction in witnessing it for myself." Like everyone else in the room, he'd expected quite a scene when Adam discovered his wastrel brother had arrived at the wedding breakfast and was spewing lies about the new duchess.

  Adam grimaced and looked at his bloody hand. "Yes, I did. That scoundrel was blackening her name. I cannot and will not tolerate that. Not now and not ever, especially considering what he's done." Then he looked down the hallway where Archibald was now loudly protesting his innocence and demanding to be set free. "It is my wedding day, after all." Then, a more practical matter came to his mind. "Do you have enough evidence to hold him?"

  Nodding, Harry held up a bundle of papers that he'd taken from Archibald when he'd been unconscious on the floor. "This is more than enough proof, I believe. Not enough that he'll hang, unfortunately, but enough that he will spend some time in Newgate for his troubles."

  "It is the best I can hope for, I am afraid." Adam ran a hand through his hair and looked back to where Lucy was still huddled with Amelia and a few other ladies who had been in attendance at the wed
ding. "I don't wish him to die, but I do want him to leave us alone. He's already ruined what should have been Lucy's special day, and I'll not stand for it."

  Giving her a considering look, Harry patted his old friend on the arm. "You care for the girl a great deal, don't you?"

  "Of course I do!" Adam protested without thinking. "What kind of husband would I be if I didn't?"

  Shaking his head, Harry gave him a knowing smile. "The kind of husband typical of the rest of society." Then he glanced back at Lucy again who was now playing the role of perfect hostess and serving people more cake. "She's stronger than she looks, Adam." Few would dare use the duke's given name, but Harry was one of the few who would both dare it and get away with it. "Your bride is a fighter. She's had to be with all that we've uncovered. And I dare say that she's more than a little smitten with you, too. For what that's worth."

  "She doesn't love me." The response was automatic, but Adam knew it to be true. "She might like me a bit and she's certainly grateful. She'll be even more so when we wrest back what is truly hers from her uncle." He glowered a bit as he watched his new wife stroll across the room, resplendent in her gown, knowing that he wouldn't get to taste her tonight or any night in the near future. "She might like me a bit, but she doesn't love me."

  Shaking his head in disbelief, Harry picked up the papers and sent someone to fetch his coat. "You keep telling yourself that, Adam. That doesn't make it true." He patted the other man on the shoulder and Adam bristled a bit at the touch. "She loves you, even though at the moment, I'd wager that she doesn't think you return the sentiment."

  At first, Adam had no idea what his friend meant, but then, he realized he was frowning, almost growling, and he suspected that his fierce expression was contributing to his wife's unhappiness. She was fidgeting with the lace on the sleeves of her gown and her hands clenched and unclenched into fists. No, that was not the look of a woman completely at ease. With a quick goodbye to Harry and a few more instructions to his other men who were still waiting to deal with the fallout from Archibald's arrival, Adam finished up business and then crossed the room to Lucy.

  When he approached, he was pleased to note that his sister had the good sense to excuse herself, taking the other women with her. Then he offered Lucy his arm and escorted her silently from the room and back to his study. As he'd expected, no one questioned their departure. Fenster, who had also been at the wedding, a jaunty green bow around his neck, loped after them, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.

  "Guard," Adam commanded the dog, and he didn't even look back to see if his faithful friend had done as commanded. He was that certain of the dog's loyalty.

  Once inside, he poured both of them a drink and handed one to Lucy before leading her to a small settee that he often used for napping when he worked late into the night. After draining his glass, and watching her do the same, he refilled them both and then sat back.

  "It seems as though we were just here," he said finally after the silence stretched from seconds into minutes.

  Nodding, Lucy tossed back the rest of her drink and put the glass down so that she could knot her fingers in her lap. "So it seems, my lord." Then she corrected herself. "I mean Adam." She lowered her head, and he knew that she was ashamed and embarrassed. She had, of course, heard Archibald's accusations. Everyone had.

  Leaning towards her, he put a finger under her chin, forcing her to face him. "This isn't your fault, Lucy, and no one believes a word he said. Truly. This is all on my brother."

  "Isn't it?" she challenged, and he was gratified to see the spark come back into her eyes, if even for a moment. "If not for me, you would not have just been humiliated in front of all of your friends, not to mention your family. They now all believe you have a frigid, spoiled wife who is not good for much more than pity."

  Smiling, he took her hands in his and squeezed them tightly. "Please, my dear, inform me how I was humiliated. I must have missed something for I fear I don't recall that specific event." When ire flashed in Lucy's aqua gaze, he knew he had his wife back and his heart soared.

  "Don't patronize me, Adam! Every single person in that room heard Archibald call me frigid! He implied that others had tried and failed to get me on my back!" Lucy sprang from the sofa and began to pace back and forth. "I am not a loose woman! You know that."

  Chuckling, he pulled her back down beside him, though she didn't struggle to get away. "I do, my love, I do." If she noticed his particular choice of words, she didn't react. She was in too much of a state. "But everyone here knows Archibald, and they know he lashes out at me when he is denied what he wants. It has always been thus."

  "And the rest of society?" she asked archly, still fidgeting. "What of them?

  Borrowing one of his sister's careless shrugs, he gave her an impish grin. "What of them? They know me and, in time, they will come to know you as well. They know that I would not choose a whore for my wife, and, in time, they will come to see how wonderful you are." He pulled her close, pleased when she melted against him, even if it was only because she needed the support. Perhaps Harry was right after all. "They will not judge you, pet, at least not on the word of a man bound for Newgate."

  Pulling back so that she could look at him once more, Lucy bit her lip. "And my uncle?"

  That was a sticky situation that Adam wasn't prepared to deal with quite yet, but he didn't know quite how to tell her about the plans he'd set in motion. "In time, we will deal with him, as well. One problem at a time." Scooting closer, Adam now had Lucy nearly back up against the edge of the settee. "Most people," he began and then stopped to correct himself. "No, most of my friends know of your uncle's reputation. They were horrified by his treatment of you, but were powerless to step in. I can assure you that they know what kind of woman you are and approve quite thoroughly."

  That seemed to calm her a bit more, but there was still a look of fear in her eyes. "And you, Adam? What do you think of me?" Turning her head, he was surprised that she was unable to look at him. "Do you think I am frigid and unwelcoming? I know I am not a beauty but..."

  He hushed her with a finger to her lips, unwilling to hear her talk about herself that way. "You are perfect, Lucy, just as you are. To me, you are beautiful, the most lovely creature I have even seen."

  "Now I know you are lying," she giggled, and he was glad to see her smile. She might not see herself as beautiful, but to him, she grew lovelier every day, much to his surprise. "I am no prize, but I am not what your brother said either. I am, however, a virgin, as I'm sure you've suspected."

  Slowly, Adam slid Lucy down the settee so that she was soon lying beneath him, grateful when she didn't protest. Instead, her breathing quickened and he could see the rise and fall of her chest, the creamy tops of her breasts bare to him. "I know what you are," he whispered, knowing that he should wait until she was ready, but craving a taste of her anyway. He hadn't even known he'd wanted more than the chaste kiss they'd shared at the altar until Harry had mentioned the word love before he'd left.

  Now, though, discovering if Lucy cared for him was the only thing that interested him. If she'd let him, he'd take her right here, though he knew he was being premature once again. He would have to coax her, little by little, into claiming her beauty and sensuality. But, oh, what a challenge it would be to help her discover her true self.

  "I know, Lucy, and I intend to enjoy every moment of teaching you the pleasures of the flesh." There was heat in his voice when he said it and he prayed that he could control himself, at least until she was ready for him. On the other hand, he also no longer planned to wait until Twelfth Night to have her.

  The first brush of Adam's lips against her neck nearly had Lucy bolting off the settee. If she had been able to move, that is. As it was, his body pinned hers down and she knew that she would not be free unless he wanted her to be. Though at the moment, she would not have wanted to be any place else.

  With the second kiss, this one on the underside of her jaw, Lucy felt as tho
ugh she was falling. Adam's breath was hot against her skin, making her ache and tingle in places that no lady should ever think about. But she was and, at the moment, she would have done anything he asked as long as he continued to kiss her.

  Bringing her hand up to stroke his cheek, she sighed into his shoulder, still well aware of all of the layers of clothing that separated them. "Adam, you cannot mean..."

  Silencing her with a kiss, she sighed into his mouth, and then moaned like a wanton when his tongue darted out to sweep the length of her lips, urging her to open for him. He was soft and gentle, but given the hard length of him that was pressing against her thigh, she knew that he could be rough and hard should she ask. The very thought excited her, but she wasn't ready just yet. This was all so new to her.

  Then he kissed her again, deeply, and she stopped thinking completely. All she could do was feel - the sweep of his hand over the side of her breast before caressing her nipple with the pad of his thumb, making it pebble beneath the layers of silk and satin. His other hand cradled her head, and the weight of his body pressed her down so that she no longer knew where she ended and he began.

  With each kiss, she felt a tightening between her legs, her body aching, yearning for something that she could not define and had no idea how to reach. When he shifted to bring himself fully between her legs, her skirts riding up high on her thigh, she gasped as she felt him pulse against her. Though a virgin, she had a fairly good knowledge of the male anatomy and knew precisely what he wanted to do to her. And she was going to allow it.

  "You are so perfect, Lucy. So beautiful. So mine." There was a note of worship in his voice, and it sent her heart soaring. Her brain whispered that he didn't mean it, but she shushed it, not wanting those fears to intrude on the delicious sensations he was sending zinging through her body.