What must it be like to be loved, to be wanted, with that kind of intensity?
Suddenly, she looked up and got a jolt like she’d been poked with a hot brand when she saw Northcote staring at her.
She spun around and forced herself to listen more attentively to one of her neighbors, who was discussing the latest fashion plates she’d viewed in La Belle Assemblée.
Without warning, a powerful masculine arm, one that could only belong to Northcote, snaked around her waist and pulled her near. “Every pardon, my dear. I fear I have been neglecting you. I hope you will forgive me.”
Leaning down, he brushed a kiss against her cheek; it burned like fire.
Her neighbor fell silent and stared with a kind of intrigued awe at Northcote. It was as if she’d never quite seen his like before, despite her acquaintance with the Byron men, who all had reputations of their own.
Esme felt rather tongue-tied herself, though not for anywhere near the same reason. “Of course,” she managed.
“Excuse me, madam,” he said to the other woman, “but I’m afraid I’m going to steal my bride. You don’t mind, do you?”
From the corner of her eye, Esme saw him flash the woman a smile.
Her neighbor, the local squire’s wife, who was at least fifteen years his senior and likely outweighed him by a stone, let out the most unlikely giggle and shook her head. “No, my lord. You are the groom, after all. Pray steal away.”
“How forbearing. Your graciousness is noted and appreciated.”
The woman giggled again like some schoolgirl, watching dazedly as Northcote led Esme away.
“You’re completely shameless—do you know that?” Esme said once they were out of her neighbor’s hearing.
He stopped and turned to face her. “Frequently, but how so on this occasion? Or are you referring to my tearing you away from your companion? You looked glassy-eyed with boredom. I presumed I was doing you a favor.”
She tipped her head back to look at him and realized he really didn’t know what she was talking about, though surely he must be aware of the almost hypnotic effect he had on women. Then again, perhaps he was so used to getting his way with members of the fairer sex, he no longer noted their dramatic reactions but instead took them for granted.
For a moment, she considered explaining, then decided it wasn’t worth the effort. “Never mind. What is it you want?”
He arched a dark brow. “The company of my bride, of course. I thought we might share a dance.”
“Thank you, but I would rather not. I am tired.”
He studied her. “Hmm, it has been rather a long day, even for a girl of your obvious youth and energy.”
“My youth,” she repeated with a mocking edge, “has naught to do with it. I did not sleep well last night.”
“Did you not?” Reaching out, he skimmed a finger along her cheek, leaving another trail of fire in its wake. “Mayhap you should have drunk that whiskey last night rather than today before the ceremony. No doubt it’s left you sleepy. Ah well, you can lie abed late tomorrow.”
She fought the blush that rose to her cheeks, color that seemed to delight him as a slow smile spread over his mouth.
“Maybe I shall. If you will forgive me, Lord Northcote, I wish to withdraw for the evening.”
“Yes, go change your attire. I shall await you down here; then we’ll be off.”
“Off where?”
“Why, to Cray House, of course. Did no one tell you we are to spend the night there?”
“No, they did not,” she said, alarm making her voice go higher.
“Well, we are. The arrangements have all been made. Cray and his cronies have very kindly agreed to take lodgings elsewhere for the night. His wedding gift to us.”
Suddenly she didn’t like Mr. Cray nearly as much as she had always done. She’d never realized what a high-handed busybody he could be.
“That is most considerate of Mr. Cray.” She worked to modulate her tone. “However, he and his friends need not discompose themselves. I am far too tired to relocate tonight and have no wish to do so. I am going to my room and shall see you in the morning. Good night.”
Northcote scowled, all hint of a smile vanishing from his face. “You will see me this evening as well. In case it slipped your mind, this happens to be our wedding night.”
She glanced around to make sure no one was listening, then leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I know very well what night this is. I also know that we are scarcely acquainted with one another and that this marriage is one of necessity rather than personal inclination on both of our parts. Sleep well, Lord Northcote. We shall continue furthering our acquaintance over breakfast.”
His eyes took on a look of amused forbearance. “Trying to put me off, are you? I think not. We shall continue furthering our acquaintance tonight in bed, Lady Northcote. I can think of no faster or better way for us to get to know each other than lying naked together between a set of sheets.”
She gasped, her pulse beating erratically at the images he’d just put in her mind.
He gave her an implacable look. “Now, go change out of that dress and have your overnight things brought downstairs so we can leave within the hour.”
She gulped but held her ground, suddenly trembling at her own daring. “No. I am not going to Cray House with you.”
A brief silence descended.
“Very well,” he said, his voice reasonable.
Too reasonable.
“Truthfully, it makes no matter to me where we consummate this union, so long as we consummate it,” he said. “I’ll come up with you now, then, and help you out of the gown myself.”
He wrapped his arm around her waist.
She shrugged out of his hold. “You will not!”
Several people looked around at her outburst, a couple of them her brothers, who scowled in their direction.
“Don’t make a scene, darling,” Northcote murmured for her ears alone. “Not at your own wedding.”
“I am not your darling.”
“No, you are my wife. Or have you forgotten the vows you took today? Among them was your promise to obey me.”
“No, it wasn’t. I crossed my fingers during that part, so it didn’t count.”
His lips twitched as if he was suddenly of a mind to laugh.
“Come along, Esme.” He took hold of her elbow and steered her toward the door.
“Gabriel, no.” She trotted along at his side.
“Ah, so you’ve remembered my given name, have you?”
They moved out into the hallway, his long strides eating up the distance as he propelled her along the elegant Aubusson hall runner, past niches containing priceless vases full of fresh flowers and magnificent sculptures and paintings done by masters—old and new.
“Please, Gabriel. Not tonight.”
He stopped, turning toward her without releasing his hold. “And why not, my dear? Surely I am not so terrible as all that?”
“No, you . . . are not terrible. But still you are a stranger, or very nearly one. I would just like to know you better before we . . . before we are intimate in the way of a husband and wife.”
He studied her, a measure of the tension easing from his shoulders. “I confess I forget sometimes just how little you know of such matters. I am not used to dealing with innocents. Rather the opposite, in point of fact.”
“Then can we not postpone tonight for a little while?” she said, clutching at the straws he’d just offered her. “Surely I am not the only one of us who is tired. You and my brothers were on the road to London and back with hardly any chance of respite in between. What is one more night when we have an entire lifetime ahead of us?”
“When you put it that way, I suppose it would be churlish of me to insist on exercising my husbandly rights this evening.�
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She let out a sigh of relief, which drew a look of ironic amusement from him.
“You needn’t look so happy about it, you know,” he said.
She wiped the smile off her face. “Of course not, and you are most forbearing to agree. Thank you, Lord Northcote. I mean, Gabriel.”
“Hmmph. I fear I have just been insulted.” Without warning, he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and bent closer. “I could take it back, you know. I feel quite confident I could have you stripped bare and moaning with pleasure in a matter of minutes, probably even less.”
She quivered at his words, afraid he might be right.
“But never let it be said that Gabriel Landsdowne forced himself on a woman, especially one who is his new bride.” He skimmed his thumb over her lips, his skin surprisingly rough for a gentleman who supposedly did no manual labor. “You may have your reprieve tonight. But just for tonight. My patience only goes so deep.”
“Yes, Gabriel.” She smiled, her heart thumping in her breast.
“Be careful, little girl,” he warned. “Or else the big, bad wolf might just change his mind and decide to eat you, after all.”
Her eyes got wide and he laughed, then held out his arm. “Come, I will escort you to your room.”
She nodded and laid her hand on his sleeve.
Before they had so much as turned in that direction, a set of forceful footsteps sounded behind them.
“Esme. Northcote.” It was Edward, wearing his most forbidding ducal expression. “Is everything all right? It looked like the two of you were having a disagreement back in the ballroom, then left rather abruptly. I came to make sure all is well.”
“Yes, everything is fine between me and my wife.” Northcote’s amused expression vanished as he and Edward exchanged glares.
“What Gabriel means,” Esme said, jumping in before things could escalate further between the two men, “is that he and I had a minor misunderstanding about our accommodations for the night, but we’ve talked and everything is settled now.”
Edward crossed his arms. “Settled how?”
“Cray offered us the use of his house tonight,” Northcote said, “but Esme is too tired to make the trip, so we’re remaining here at Braebourne.”
Edward looked between them. “Exactly as you ought.” He turned toward Esme and directed his next words specifically to her. “And that is all? No other misunderstandings you wish to share? You may be married to him now, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t still my sister. You can tell me anything, Esme, anything at all. That is something that will never change.”
Gabriel’s arm flexed beneath her hand, his shoulders tightening with obvious umbrage.
Her brother’s concern touched her, but once again, she found herself leaping to Gabriel’s defense for reasons even she didn’t really understand.
“There is nothing further to tell,” she said in a cheerful tone. “Everything is exactly as it ought to be between Gabriel and myself. Truly. You have no reason to be concerned, Ned. After all, he is my husband now.”
Edward studied her for another few seconds. “Yes, he is, isn’t he?” His eyes shifted back to Northcote. “You may be my brother-in-law, but that doesn’t mean I will cease either my care of, or concern for, Lady Esme. Not ever. She is precious to me and to all of her family. Pray remember that.”
Northcote smiled wryly. “Oh, don’t worry. I shall. How can I not with nearly the entirety of your family taking every opportunity to remind me of that fact? I believe the only Byron who hasn’t made some remark to that effect is one of your cousins, although perhaps he was a footman and I am simply in error as to his identity.”
“They haven’t been doing that,” Esme said on a gasp.
“Yes, they have,” Northcote drawled, gazing down at her. “You are greatly cherished, my dear.”
She rounded on Edward. “Well, stop it, all of you. Gabriel has been nothing but a gentleman since we first met and I am perfectly safe in his company. Tell everyone they are to cease their warnings immediately.”
“Please, my dear, do have a care in your choice of phrasing,” Northcote told her. “I am far from ‘perfectly safe.’ You make me sound like a gelded stallion. I might remind you that I have a reputation to uphold.”
Edward laughed. “My apologies, Northcote. I keep forgetting what a gallant defender you have in my sister, however little it may be deserved.”
Northcote inclined his head. “If we are done here, Lady Northcote wishes to retire.”
Edward sobered again at the reminder of Esme’s new marital status. “Of course, do not let me detain you further. This is, after all, your wedding night.” He leaned over and kissed Esme’s cheek. “Remember that Claire and I are only just down the corridor if you need us,” he added in an audible whisper.
“Ned!”
Edward smiled. “Good night, Esme.” His eyes hardened slightly. “Northcote.”
“Clybourne.”
Esme murmured her own good night, watching as Edward turned and started back the way he’d come.
Once more, she and Northcote were alone.
Silently, he accompanied her to her bedchamber. The two of them stopped in front of the closed door.
“Here we are,” he said.
“Yes, here we are.”
He leaned toward her and met her gaze. “Certain you don’t want me to come in with you? We could dispense with the services of your maid. I’ve been reliably informed over the years that I’m rather a dab hand at undressing ladies. I’m sure I could have you out of that bridal gown in a trice, even with all those petticoats you must be wearing. Just how many are there?”
Her pulse did a quick double beat, her nerves rushing back all at once.
Egad, some of the things he said!
Then again, why should she be surprised when he had so little modesty that he slept naked out of doors?
And I have so little that I drew him that way, an inner voice reminded her.
Her throat squeezed tight. “I’m quite sure I’ll manage satisfactorily with my maid.”
His tawny eyes gleamed with regretful acceptance. “As you will, my bride. Might I at least be given a good-night kiss? I am forgoing my husbandly rights, after all. It seems only fair I should be granted some sort of recompense for my magnanimity.”
When he put it like that, how could she refuse? “Very well. But only one.”
“One kiss, hmm? Then I shall have to be sure it’s a good one.”
Before she could say more, he pulled her to him and bent his head to take her mouth.
Weary though she might be, his touch awakened her in an instant. Fire caught and burned in her veins, the sensation of his lips alone enough to make her ache. He angled his mouth one way, then angled it another, all without once breaking contact. He pressed more insistently, tender yet forceful all at the same time.
When he drew the tip of his tongue along her lower lip in a warm, wet slide, her mouth parted almost of its own accord, as if that part of her knew what it wanted before she did.
His tongue dipped between her lips, tangling against her own before tracing the ultra-sensitive flesh of her inner cheeks, first one, then the other. She shivered, an odd little mewling sound humming deep in her throat.
He smiled but didn’t break the kiss. Instead he deepened their embrace, kissing her harder, deeper, compelling her to follow his lead and accede to his demands, whatever they might be.
And she did, nearly mindless with pleasure, her body burning, her flesh feeling suddenly too tight inside her clothes.
Using only his touch, he coaxed her to kiss him back, to mimic his actions so that she was darting her tongue into his mouth, was crushing her lips against his with wild abandon she hadn’t realized she possessed.
She barely even felt her feet leave the ground when he
picked her up and wrapped one strong arm under her bottom to hold her against him. Her arms went around his shoulders to anchor herself as their kiss continued. He pressed her against the wall, then pressed himself against her.
Even through the layers of her gown, she could feel his need. Even in her innocence, she knew what he wanted. She’d seen animals couple and had at least some sense of what was involved in mating.
Her fear returned.
He was too much, this man.
Too experienced and worldly.
Too carnal and passionate.
Heavens knew how many women he’d been with. Would she be just one more? She was very much afraid that despite the ring on her finger, she would.
Worse, what if she disappointed him? This man she’d just committed herself to for life.
She turned her face away, breaking the kiss, subtly ashamed to hear her own panting breath and to acknowledge her utter lack of control in the arms of a man she barely knew.
Good Lord, even her nipples were as hard as little pebbles inside her dress; she prayed he didn’t notice.
“You may put me down now,” she murmured.
He met her eyes, staring at her with a knowing look. “If you’re sure that’s what you want. My earlier offer still stands.”
“Down, please.” She looked away.
He set her on her feet.
She swayed slightly, relieved that he hadn’t let go of her entirely, else she might have fallen.
He set a finger beneath her chin and gently forced her head up so she was looking in his eyes. “Good night, my little Esme. I look forward to continuing this tomorrow. Rest well. You’ll need it for everything I have planned.”
Her breath hitched, aching in her lungs.
“Y-yes, good night.”
Reaching behind her, she turned the doorknob and slipped inside.
She was still leaning against her bedroom door when she heard him walk away.
Chapter 13
Gabriel awakened to the faint gray hues of predawn light and his erection tenting the sheets. He stared at it, then groaned and let his head fall back on the pillow, slinging an arm over his eyes.
Happily Bedded Bliss: The Rakes of Cavendish Square Page 12