She sniffed as William’s carriage pulled round the side of Alastair's house as she had instructed the driver. She had departed the club once she had earned the desired amount of money, giving Alastair a quick goodbye before promptly returning home, despite him calling her name into the street as the carriage drove away. She did not want to listen to him lecture her all the way back to the house. She resolved she must fall asleep as soon as possible once she returned home so as to avoid him and also to wake at a respectable hour. She had become used to rising late, but felt she should try her utmost to be early enough to join Anne and greet the dowager duchess when she arose. If only, Olivia thought, she was able to fall asleep at night. But alas, every night, as tired as she was, as soon as her head touched the pillow her thoughts began to race and she was awake for many hours.
“It has been an adventure, as always, Olivia,” William said, with a nod of his head toward her from where he sat across the seat. “I must tell you, however, I feel your husband may have a few questions for you when he returns. I did tell you that perhaps it was not proper for me to escort you as a married woman.”
“Oh William, you silly man, none of this is proper!” she said with a laugh. “Why, I am dressed in breeches, so therefore, you did not escort Olivia Finchley, Duchess of Breckenridge, but rather your old friend Oliver. Thank you again, it has simply been the most wonderful evening. Goodnight, darling!”
She alighted from the carriage and slipped in the back door through the kitchens, hopeful she could make it into her bedchamber without notice.
Olivia quietly eased open the door to her chambers, opening it only wide enough to fit herself through. The hinges of the heavy oak door creaked if they were pushed too far, and Olivia was thankful that her current attire prevented her from needing any more space to move, such as she did in her typical opulent skirts.
She slipped in and removed her hat and jacket. She was beginning to untie her breeches when a noise came from the corner of the room and she turned, a small shriek escaping her lips before she could keep it in.
“You have already provided me with quite a lot of entertainment this evening, darling, however if you would prefer to continue, pray do so.”
“Alastair!” He was in the shadows of her room, his large frame seated on the stool in the corner. The fire in the grate had died to simply embers, and she had not lit a candle so as to escape notice through the halls. “Whatever are you doing?”
“Waiting for you.”
“I thought you would still be out.”
“I left when you did, however as I rode my horse I arrived quite a great deal quicker than you did with your friend William.”
“Yes, Alastair, I —”
He stood and walked toward her, coming to stop in front of her. His hands came round her shoulders, and he tilted her head up so their eyes met and held, neither unable to look away for a moment.
“Olivia, darling,” he said, surprising her with a softness in his voice instead of anger. “You are my wife now. I know you have this arrangement settled in your mind, but if nothing else, you must allow me to look after you. If you need protection, I will provide it. If you require an escort to a gentlemen's club, come with me. Do not ask another man, please, I beg of you.”
She stared back at him in wonderment.
“You would take me to a gentlemen's club? In men’s clothing?”
“If that is what you would wish, then so be it. You clearly do not know a great deal about me.”
“I suppose not particularly, Your Grace.”
“I much prefer Alastair on your lips,” he said, releasing his hands from around her. “If you wish to know more about me and my own escapades, perhaps you should ask my mother in the morning. She can provide you with an assortment of stories regarding the mischief I created, and likely the years I have added to her life. Why, my rakish ways are simply a continuation of my childhood.”
He winked at her now, mirroring her expression from when they had discovered one another in the club.
“This William character, he says he is your childhood friend,” said Alastair, a slight crease now appearing between his brows. “Is this the truth? Or is there something more between the two of you?”
“With William?” her eyes widened. “Oh, good heavens, no. We have always been good friends, yet nothing more. I always saw William as a brother, and he felt the same about me.”
“I am not quite sure of that,” murmured Alastair in such a low tone that she almost did not hear it.
“Well, it is true,” she said, stepping back from him, and lifting the fire poker to try to stoke the embers back to life. “Was there anything else you wished to discuss?”
“What were you doing there, Olivia? Was it a game, or were there potentially greater reasons?”
She sat still for a moment, contemplating how much to tell him. Would he be upset with her? Would he allow her to continue? Tugging off her jacket, which had begun to feel much too warm, she finally determined that the truth, when possible, was typically the best option, and she slowly turned and looked up at him.
“I went there to win back your debt.”
The room remained silent but for the cracks of the logs as the fire began returning to life.
“You what?” he finally said, slow and drawn out.
“I determined where your father had amalgamated large amounts of debt, and I chose one of such clubs to win back the money that you now owe.”
“You did not think I could do so myself?”
She lowered the fire poker and walked over to him, lifting her hands to his chest so as to soften her words. “You are a good card player, Alastair, but a passable one. Whereas I … I seem to have the ability to win. In one evening, I made enough to pay back over half your father’s debt to that club, Alastair. Is that not wonderful?”
His face was closed off to her as he spoke in a gravelled tone. “It is not that I do not appreciate what you have done for me, Olivia,” he said. “But it is for me to look after the financial matters, not you.”
“That is where you are wrong,” she said fiercely, pointing a finger at him. “We are married now, and therefore my finances are yours, and yours are mine. Alastair, I cannot sit in this house day in and day out and do nothing. Let me do this for you — we can do it together if you wish.”
He stared at her, his face unmoving. “I shall think on it,” he said but then paused. “Although I assume you shall continue no matter what I say.”
“Oh Alastair,” she said as her face broke out in a wide grin. “You are beginning to understand!”
He laughed then, a chuckle that rumbled deep in his chest, which she could feel through her palms. They began to tingle, sending shots of heat rushing through her arms. She turned and made to step away from him.
“Olivia, you did make one error in calculation,” he said.
“What is that?” she asked, turning her head over her shoulder.
“You did not stop to consider what your backside would look like in a pair of breeches,” he said with a bit of a growl. With that, he reached out and pulled her against him. She felt his hot breath on her neck before he started to slowly trail kisses down her skin, and she reflexively tilted her head to allow him a better angle.
She couldn’t understand how his lips on her neck could cause such feelings to flutter in her stomach and lower, deeper. It left her craving more, and when his hands began to slide down her sides, she grasped them to her, wanting him to put them somewhere, anywhere, and yet she was completely unaware of where that should be. He seemed to know, however.
His fingers moved up her body, leaving a line of fire where they lingered, before coming to her breasts. He made to cup her, but cursed when he felt only the swath of linen that was tied tightly around her. He unbuttoned the shirt, slipped it off her shoulders and grasped an edge of the fabric binding her, slowly unwinding it from her body. She felt the material begin to release, allowing her to breathe deeper and also providing ro
om for his hands to reach in and flick over the rosy bud of her nipple. She arched back into him and could feel his desire pressing into her, just overtop the swell of her behind.
His hands reached down to her waist then, turning her so she was facing him. His mouth took hers then, and he kissed her long and hard, drinking her in, before his mouth ripped away from hers. She cried out for him to return to her lips, but then accepted their absence when he began to lick at her nipple, while attending to the left side with his thumb and finger. She moaned, unable to keep herself from responding to him and his practiced caresses.
“Olivia, love,” he said between jagged breaths. “Do you want this? You must say no now, or I’m unsure if I will be able to stop myself.”
“Yes,” she breathed out. “Yes, I want this. Don’t stop.”
He picked her up, spreading her legs, still clad in the breeches, wide around him as he carried her back to the bed. He deposited her upon it before ripping off his own shirt and climbing onto the mattress, straddling her. Before he could do anything further, Olivia reached up and began to unlace his own breeches with trembling fingers. She wanted — no, she needed — to see more of him and she could no longer wait. He let her do so, watching her face as she bit her lip in concentration. Her gaze caught his as she looked up at him, but she refocused back on her task, her eyes widening when he sprang free.
“You…” she swallowed. “You are very large.”
He chuckled his deep throaty laugh and kissed her mouth gently. “Have no fear, love, you’ll be ready for me.”
He repaid her favor in kind, untying her own breeches before peeling them off her and throwing them from the bed. This was lovely, she thought, to have so few layers of clothing. It had taken no time at all for Alastair to undress her. Her thoughts soon became addled, however, as his fingers began brushing their way down her stomach, lower, until they —
“What are you doing?” she asked, gasping as he skimmed the pad of his thumb against her nub in her most tender, private area.
“I’m preparing you,” he said, “and teaching you of pleasure. You may best me at cards, love, but this I will teach you.”
He slipped one finger, then two inside her, and she thought she was nearly ready to come apart, such was the depth of feeling within her. She craved something more, to reach the pinnacle of something that was just out of her grasp.
“Are you ready, love?” came Alastair’s voice in her ear. It was all she could do to nod, before she felt the heaviness of him beginning to enter her. “Steady,” he said, as he paused for a moment before breaking through. She expected pain — her mother had told her much of it — but it was nothing much, really, and what hurt more than anything was Alastair’s pause. When she began to move, he slowly matched her rhythm, until he was pistoning his hips in and out of her in a way that felt oh, so good. She finally went over the edge, his name on her lips, as the world shattered around her.
17
Alastair woke the next morning with his wife in his arms, feeling completely and utterly content. Who would have believed this day would ever come, he thought with a laugh. Alastair Finchley, married, and surprisingly happy about it. He looked down at the woman next to him. Her golden hair fanned out behind her, glistening in the sunlight that streamed through the window. Her long eyelashes rested against the soft skin of her face, as she looked entirely peaceful and at ease. She was always so animated, so fiery, that he took advantage of the opportunity to study her while she slept.
She had been more passionate than any woman he had ever met before. She approached their lovemaking as she did everything in life, with a zeal unlike any other. He hadn’t meant to make love to her last night; he had only wanted to speak to her about the evening and the man who had accompanied her. But he had found his thoughts dissolving into nothing but a wanting for her — her body, her mind, and her spirit.
She stirred, as if feeling his eyes on her, and slowly opened her lids to reveal sleepy crystal blue eyes, that warmed when they took in his face above hers.
“Alastair,” she said with a slight grin, and he nearly wanted to take her again right there, but knew it may be ill-advised to do so.
“Did you sleep well, love?” he asked, returning her smile.
“I actually slept better than I have in months,” she responded, seeming somewhat surprised. “It has been quite some time since I have fallen — and remained — asleep without any issue.”
“Well I am sure that had all to do with the strong arms of your protector around you,” he said with a grin, then ducked as she swatted him with a pillow. “I jest, Madame,” he said. “As we both are well aware, you are more than capable of caring for yourself.”
“Ah, Alastair, you do not realize how wonderful it is to hear you say such,” she said, pushing herself up to a sitting position, though he didn’t miss how she pulled the bed linen up to cover herself. She looked up at him then, her eyes slightly troubled.
“Thank you for maintaining my charade at the gambling establishment,” she said. “Why were you willing to allow me to stay when so many men would not?”
He shrugged. “You are a grown woman, Olivia. While you may be my wife, you were very clear on your view of our marriage. You have said nothing as I have left our home time and again come the evening; therefore, what right do I have to prevent your actions?”
“Were I discovered, I would have brought great shame to your family,” she said, feelings of guilt and yet exhilaration at war within her.
“Then we are fortunate that no one was the wiser,” he said. “You have much to learn about me, however, love. I am not a stranger to outrageous acts. Do you plan to do the same again?”
She hesitated. “I would like to, however, I understand if you feel I am not in a position to do so.”
He looked up at her, mischief in his eyes. “I must tell you, love, that you are currently in the best position possible — underneath me.”
She gasped then laughed as he — very gently — showed her once again the pleasures lovemaking could offer.
Alastair was true to his word and accompanied Olivia to a great many events over the next fortnight. They attended some balls and soirees as husband and wife, where they were spoken to by a great many guests, many less than subtly interested in learning more about their relationship and the scandal that had caused it. Other nights, they attended gambling houses and establishments. Sometimes Olivia dressed as Mrs. Harris, pretending she had no connection to Alastair, and the odd time dressed in her breeches and introduced as Alastair’s cousin, Oliver. They developed a system for whist and easily won money each game. Alastair’s gambling debts were slowly ebbing away, and he had his wife to thank completely. He was unsure of how he felt regarding the subject. On the one hand, he was proud of her intelligence. He appreciated the way in which she drew people to her, much in the same way he enjoyed a crowd, and her quick wit and easy laugh was contagious. On the other, he felt he wasn’t quite the man he should be, needing his wife to help.
And every time she donned a pair of those breeches … they were equally as enticing as the swell of her bosom over the low-cut neckline of her dress. He was enjoying teaching her the art of lovemaking, and she was certainly a willing student.
They had finished dining one evening, his mother having retired, and were sitting near one another on the sofa of the drawing room as Anne played the pianoforte, the lively, tinkling melody dancing around their ears.
“We have no engagements this evening. Are you leaving the house?” she asked.
“Just to White’s,” he said nonchalantly. “’Tis nothing of import. Make a few wagers, have a couple of drinks, and I should be home in due time.”
“Alastair…” she said, staring down at her hands before her brilliant blue eyes rose to meet his, her lips spreading into a smile that made him both excited and on edge at the same time. It was the look that told him she wanted something and expected him to help her to get it.
“Yes, darl
ing?” he said.
“Would you take me to White’s?”
His eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “To White’s? White’s Gentlemen’s Club where no woman enters — ever?”
“Yes!” she said, her eyes shining. “Would it not be a thrill? To enter undetected?”
“And if we are found out?” he asked. “If someone were to recognize you? I would be disbarred from White’s for life, as would any heirs of mine!”
Her face fell slightly as she re-considered her ask and the potential consequences. “All right then,” she finally said with a shrug. “It’s no matter.”
He eyed her. Did she mean that, or would she attempt to enter herself? He could tell she was disappointed, but he knew it was for the best. There was no way he should take her to White’s, let alone any gentlemen’s club.
“Fine, I shall take you.”
The words came out of his mouth hardly before he realized what he was saying. What was he agreeing to? Did he truly so badly wish to keep her happy that he would take her to a place like White’s?
“Oh, splendid!” she said, her face coming to life and he forgot his misgivings in the moment. “Excellent. When shall we leave?”
He had seen her dressed as a man before, but she seemed to becoming more adept at it each time. Tonight, she had taken extra care to bulk up her body, completely hide the color and length of her hair, and had darkened her eyebrows considerably. The brilliant blue of her eyes still shone, however, and her shapely legs were once again apparent through the breeches. “Though,” she told him when he remarked upon them, “I shall be sitting down the majority of the time, so no one will notice.”
He was skeptical at that. He certainly noticed.
She was near trembling with excitement in the carriage as they traveled to the club. He, who was seldom affected by any matter, could barely speak to her, his nerves were so on edge. It was one thing to have a bit of fun sneaking into a gambling establishment or a lady of the ton’s home, but White’s? It was the most prestigious club in London. They would have no qualms about turning away a duke for doing something as untoward as bringing a woman into their ranks. What had he been thinking, agreeing to this?
He's a Duke, But I Love Him Page 11