by Em Taylor
“Thank you.”
“I shall come for you in a carriage at nine o’clock tomorrow then. We shall have to stop at an inn on the way home. It is hardly how I wanted to...” he waved his hand in her general direction. He was rather aggrieved at the whole situation if he was honest. “… make love to my wife for the first time. But it is the way it shall have to be.”
“I am sorry.”
“None of this is your doing, Kathleen. You are an innocent victim of the bad behaviour of men. It is I who should apologise to you and I do. Most humbly.”
“You are also a victim, my lord.”
Gabriel did not like to think of himself as a victim. He hated everything about his circumstances, but he could have changed them. He had chosen not to and now Kathleen had been dragged into it, and Myles and Lord and Lady Beattie. It was a dreadful mess.
“No. I have been a coward for not standing up to my sire sooner. Until tomorrow, Miss Roberts.” He bowed over her hand, very properly and took his leave. It was a far cry from practically undressing her three nights before and what he would do to her on the morrow. They would work it out. Somehow.
∞∞∞
“Tell me you did not debauch my sister, Stalwood.”
They were sitting in a carriage on their way to Richmond the next morning, the ladies in another carriage just behind them. Gabriel was on tender hooks. His bride may be behind him in a carriage, but he was still nervous that she would change her mind or that someone would work out what they were doing.
She had told her parents they were going for a picnic. He was not sure if her parents believed that the English indulged in such outdoor activities in December any more than anyone else did, but he cared not. As long as, by the end of the day, she was Lady Cindermaine.
Stalwood gave him a sidelong look of utter contempt.
“Do you honestly believe that Lady Christina Marchby would allow me to debauch her? Good God man, do you not know your sister at all? She would be more likely to chop my ballocks off than let me tumble her before our wedding day.”
“Did you try to force yourself on her?”
Stalwood sat up straight and faced his friend. “Christ, Cindermaine, you really do want me to either slap a glove in your face or plant you a facer. I am a gentleman. I understand the concept of the word no.”
Gabriel nodded solemnly. “I had to check.”
“Not with me. I am not Cedric. It is time you learned that everyone in the world is not like your awful, ridiculous family—present company and your sister excepted.”
“I find it hard to trust people, Stalwood. Even you and Beattie.”
“I know. But I am still Myles. The young man who you discussed your darkest secrets with. Well, most of them. Such as waking up with a damp patch on your nightshirt.”
“Oh hell.”
Stalwood grinned at him. “Bloody worse these last few weeks, would you not agree?”
“Absolutely.”
“We are nearly there. Are you ready to become a married man?”
“I am. I never thought I would see the day when two handsome young bucks would be so delighted to be getting leg-shackles.”
“And me getting a leg-shackle for the second time.”
“Have you and Christina discussed your son?”
“We have. I will collect him this evening from his grandparents. He will be living with me from now on.”
“And she is happy to become his mama?”
“She tells me she is delighted, though she has not yet met the tiny tyrant. I have missed him terribly but his grandparents needed this time with him and I wanted to grant them it. Charlotte’s parents miss her dreadfully, as you can imagine, and the little mite does look very much like her. He has her eyes. My own parents dote on him of course but are not so keen to have him overnight. Despite having a nurse and being all the way on the top floor in the nursery, my mother swears his crying upsets her nerves. She always was a rather dramatic woman.”
“And Christina has no problem bringing up your heir and the child of another woman?”
Stalwood sighed. “Cindermaine, your sister is pragmatic. She is not a wilting flower who needs smelling salts. She is five and twenty and assumed herself to be on the shelf. She was willing to marry for comfort and companionship. To have found love is a dream come true. A child was never going to be a stumbling block.”
“I do not suppose it was. And she does know what she wants, and that appears to be you.”
“She believes that anyone who helps her baby brother is a saint. I have officially been beatified by your sister.”
“What has Godfrey to do with it?”
“She calls you her baby brother on account of the eight-minute difference. That said, have you noticed how, when in our company, Godfrey has been, well, almost human. He has even taken to wearing breeches and pantaloons instead of those God-awful inexpressibles.”
“I had noticed his clothing choices, yes.”
“I think he is a little in awe of you, Gabe.”
“I think Godfrey is a simpleton who does not know which way is up and just follows anyone blindly who happens to be close at hand.”
“I think you are being self-deprecating, Cindermaine. The lad looks up to you because you are not an arse to him.”
“He is not a lad. He is five and twenty, just as we are.”
“He was not educated as we were. He was not shown how to be a proper gentleman. His only examples were Cedric and the Duke. Hardly a way to learn to be a gentleman.”
“They were my examples too.”
“You had masters at Eton and tutors at Oxford, Gabe.”
“That is true.”
“Look, we are here. Time to get wed.”
The gentlemen hurried out of their carriage in time to hand the ladies down. Gabriel was surprised to find Lord and Lady Beattie also in attendance. Lady Beattie was looking rather flushed and rumpled as if they had… Oh, Gabriel did not want to go down that line of thought. Not when he was about to enter a church. But he would have thought a carriage a bit cramped to do that. He wondered if it would be terribly gauche to ask Beattie how one managed it. Just for interest’s sake, of course.
The church service was short and sweet. Stalwood paid the vicar, and the vows were said. There was no great pomp and ceremony. It was like signing a business contract, Gabriel guessed, though he had never done such a thing. That said, in his heart he knew this meant it was now his duty to protect this woman under his care. He was aware of feeling jealous of Stalwood. His friend was head over ears in love with Christina after such a short time. And though he cared for Kathleen, he was not yet in love with her. At least he did not think he was. He supposed he had kept such a tight rein on his emotions for so long, he was not sure if he knew how to love anyone but Christina and that was a filial love. Was he capable of romantic love?
Kathleen, standing in a pretty pink gown and matching bonnet, with a white fur-trimmed pelisse looked beautiful. Curls framed her face under the bonnet and her eyes sparkled. He knew this was not the wedding she wanted or planned but she was making the best of it. He smiled at her, hoping she could read from his expression that this was not entirely duty that caused him to marry her. He wanted her. And not just in the bedroom.
Damn, why had he thought about that in church? Luckily they were moving outside now.
“We are heading for the inn one mile down the road back to London. We shall book rooms for the night but leave two hours before dark. We shall have lunch first with Lord and Lady Beattie.”
“No, it is only eleven o’clock. You have your lunches in your rooms. We shall continue on our way. I do need to get home anyway. I have to discuss menus for Christmas with the cook. Sophia is coming and Aunt Gertrude. Thank you for allowing us to be at your weddings, my dears. And if you need anything, a refuge, a place to… stay, be alone for a while, please let us know.”
“Thank you, Lady Beattie,” Gabriel said taking her hand and kissing it. Good grief, t
he woman was offering out her house as a place for them to have sex in the next few days if necessary. He had been told she had a bit of a loose tongue but that was getting ridiculous. However, he smiled at her and bid her a good day.
Beattie helped her into their carriage and turned to Gabriel. “Emily means well. She knows you are stuck in London for a few more days. She knows what we were like in our first few days of marriage. I could not keep my hands off her. Still cannot if I am honest. The invitation to visit is there and if you need time alone, we shall be delighted to offer it. It is much more respectable for you to come to our house than Stalwood’s since he is officially still a bachelor. Unless you plan to announce your nuptials in tomorrow’s papers.”
He turned to Myles.
“I think not. I do not want the wrath of the Duke of Hartsmere on my head. I shall make sure I, my wife and my son are out of London before that news filters to Hartsmere House.”
“Good plan.”
“I thought so.”
“You both know where we are if you need us.”
“We do.”
Beattie climbed into the carriage and their coach moved off.
“To the inn then?” said Stalwood.
“To the inn.”
Chapter 11
Kathleen was nervous. She had never been so worried about anything in her life before. Gabriel had apparently booked the room under the name Mr and Mrs March.
They had all lunched together in a private parlour, but it had been a quiet affair with the gentlemen trying to keep the conversation flowing. But Kathleen could tell that Christina was as nervous as she was.
The gentlemen kept glancing at each other as if unsure how to keep things light and not discuss the elephant in the room.
Eventually, lunch was over, and Gabriel led her up to their bedchamber. He closed and locked the door and took her pelisse, gloves and bonnet from her, placing them along with his hat and greatcoat onto a love seat near the window. He sat on a chair and smiled at her.
“I am sorry to ask this of you, but would you mind awfully helping me to remove my boots? I can call up a servant…”
“No, not at all. When we were on board the ship coming over here, I often helped my father remove his boots. It was easier than finding someone.”
Between them, with a little effort, they managed to remove both boots and then he stood, looking at her and Kathleen wondered what on earth she had done. Was this large, beautiful man what she wanted? Was she what he wanted? Would he be disappointed?
“My lord…”
“My lady.”
A giggle escaped Kathleen’s lips. “Oh my. I really am a lady.”
“The Countess of Cindermaine.”
She wrung her hands together and stared into the fire. “I am sorry. I do not know what I am doing.”
He chuckled. “I would be surprised if a virgin acted like a courtesan on her wedding night.”
“You have been with many courtesans?”
She wished she could catch those words and push them back into her mouth. He raised an eyebrow. “One or two. Not many. On a servant’s wage, I prefer to make sure I get my sexual pleasure for free.”
“Oh?”
“There are many willing young ladies from the middle classes only too happy to bed a young educated man who knows how to give a lady pleasure, my love.”
Something about the way Gabriel said the word pleasure, made her heart race.
“Oh!”
“Let me show you pleasure, my lady.”
He was standing close to her now and her breathing was becoming laboured. It was so hard to breathe and think with him so near.
He placed one hand on her waist and drew her flush against him. While she had been expecting a brutal, bruising kiss, she was surprised when he brushed his lips gently against hers. Just as he had the night of their betrothal ball.
He withdrew from the kiss and then smiled at her.
“You still look absolutely petrified. We have a few hours until we need to set off for London. I would prefer you to be relaxed for this. I have some cards in my pocket. Let us play a game. Come sit by the fire.”
She did as she he asked.
He took the cards out of his pocket and sat opposite her. “We shall draw cards. Whoever has the lowest card must remove an item of clothing. If one of us draws a face card, then we kiss. The other person must remove an item of clothing.”
She nodded. It was a strange game, but she assumed he was getting her comfortable being unclothed around him.
“Are there any other rules?”
He thought for a moment. He was obviously making the rules up as he went along. “Both stockings count as one garment. You must remove your boots as I already removed mine. And when we kiss, you must come and sit on my knee so we can kiss properly.” His voice lowered as he said properly. She might enjoy this game.
She removed her half-boots with alacrity and sat up, smiling at him. They drew the first card. He allowed her to go first. She drew a seven of clubs. He drew a nine of diamonds. She lifted her skirts, untied her garters and took off her stockings. It felt strange to remove her stockings in front of a man, especially when he made no attempt to avert his eyes.
This time she has a ten and Gabriel drew a three. He removed his coat. Disappointment gnawed at her. She had seen men without coats before but had never seen a man without his stockings. Gabriel smirked at her. When she drew a four, she groaned until Gabriel drew a two. He removed his neckcloth. His shirt gaped a little and she could see tanned skin at his throat. It looked smooth. She had the sudden urge to lick it.
Next time, she drew a two, and he drew a queen. He motioned her to come over and sit on his lap, facing the fire. He placed a hand behind her head and drew her to him for a kiss. This time he was more insistent, pressing his tongue into her mouth and angling her head to deepen the kiss still further. She heard herself moan as his hand trailed up her leg.
When his hand reached the top of her thigh and he leaned her back, brushing his hand across the hair at the apex of her thighs she gasped and pulled out of the kiss. He smiled and then helped her to her feet. As she sat down, he appeared to be adjusting himself inside his breeches.
They picked cards and this time it was Kathleen’s turn to lose. She moved to him and asked her to unbutton her gown. He obliged, pressing kisses to her back as he did so. Once her gown was loose, Gabriel pushed his hands inside and around to the front, cupping her ample breasts despite their two layers of clothing still between him and her flesh. She moaned, and he pressed kisses to her neck and massaged her breasts. He rocked the hardness of his manhood against the small of her back.
“Gabriel.”
“Hmm, do you want to continue playing, my love?”
“I believe we should change the rules.”
“Really? Pray tell, what would you like to change.”
“If I lose, you take off my garment and if you lose, I take off yours.”
“I can see you are a quick learner, my lady. Now, step out of your gown.”
She did, and he tossed her gown onto his chair. They drew cards. He drew a four, she drew an eight. She moved to him and put her hand on the button of his breeches.
“The waistcoat first.”
“That is not fair.”
“It is fair. I choose the garment.” She unbuttoned his waistcoat and moved it off his broad shoulders, but her hands lingered on his chest. He grinned at her. She scowled.
Gabriel picked up the cards and shuffled them then laid them down. She drew a King and he drew a knave. His mouth quirked.
“New rule?”
She nodded her acquiescence.
“As you wish, my lord.”
“When both of us draw a face card, we must kiss but then we must both remove a garment apiece.”
“Not acceptable.”
“No?”
“We must remove a garment apiece and then we must kiss.”
“I prefer your rule. May I ask why?”
“You do not have to wear stays, my lord. They are exceedingly uncomfortable and when you kiss me, I believe I am in danger of swooning.”
Gabriel chuckled.
“Good lord, we cannot have that. Turn around, my lady.”
He had her stays removed in short measure. Then with cards in hand, he walked to the bed and sat on the edge.
“You may remove my stockings,” he said. She knelt and lifted the bottoms of his breeches after untying them and undid his garters then she unrolled one woollen stocking from each of his legs.
She then placed a hand on each of his knees. Biting her lip, she looked up into his eyes. He smiled gently at her, but his gaze darkened with desire as he brushed the back of his fingers over her cheek. Taking each of her wrists into his hands, he drew her up against his body so that her head was against his chest. Then he rubbed her back until one hand wandered down and cupped her bottom.
“Are you well, Kathleen?”
“I am.”
“Are you scared?”
“No, not scared. A little apprehensive.”
“Would you like to play on?”
“I draw a king.”
“I draw a queen. Stand and I shall remove your underskirts.”
They pooled on the floor within seconds along with his shirt. Gabriel remained seated and drew her head down for a hard, needy kiss. He roamed his hands over her barely clad body, but she could only hold onto his bare shoulders for fear of her weak knees giving way.
“I draw queen.”
“I draw king.”
He pulled the ribbon of her shift, and she allowed him to inch the garment up her thighs, baring first her womanhood, then her stomach and then her breasts as he pulled if from her arms. Kathleen did not give herself time to be embarrassed, however. She set about the buttons of his breeches before her shift hit the floor. When his large, hard member popped out of his breeches at eye level she sprang back but recovered herself quickly.
Gabriel chuckled. “I apologise.”
“It is fine,” Kathleen replied tugging his breeches over his hips and leaning down so he could step out of them. It was still at face height. “Can I… May I touch it?”