His Unlikely Duchess

by Amanda McCabe

  ‘Oh, Aidan, really,’ the Duchess said with a laugh. The champagne had been flowing freely during the wedding breakfast and even she was bright-eyed and giggling. ‘I am too old to be called a bride.’

  ‘But so you shall be, Mama. Though I doubt anyone could ever be lovelier than my own bride today.’ He reached for Lily’s hand and raised it to his lips for a lingering kiss, making her blush and everyone else cheer.

  She studied the White Drawing Room, which had been set up with several small, round tables and gilt chairs for the wedding breakfast, all draped in pink damask cloths and decorated with silver vases of pink and white roses. Over the bridal table was an arch of ferns and gardenias, their scent heady and thick in the air. Plates of salmon mousse and eggs Drumkilbo—the Queen’s favourite, the chef had insisted—lobster patties and chicken pâté had been served and cleared, the tiered white sugar-laced cake cut.

  It was all so grand, so lovely, but all Lily really wanted was for it to be over. To be alone with Aidan.

  She thought of the wedding night ahead of them, of the fumbling explanations of the marriage act from her mother, the secret books she’d read late at night, the whispers of married friends. It had all sounded so strange before and a little frightening. But if it was with Aidan...

  She looked up at him. He was laughing at another toast, his hair tousled, his cravat a little crooked. The curve of his lips made her remember their kisses and she turned away to take a gulp of champagne.

  As she looked up, her gaze caught Lady Rannock’s. She frowned a bit as she looked at Aidan, as if, just like Lily herself, she saw only him in the crowded room.

  ‘Lily, darling, would you like another bit of cake?’ her mother said, distracting her from her doubts. ‘It’s good luck, you see.’

  * * *

  At last, it was time to change into her going-away outfit. Lily slipped away from the noisy crowd with her sisters to make her way upstairs to the Queen’s Chamber. When they returned from Brighton, she knew her wardrobe would have been packed up and moved to the Duchess’s Suite, adjoining Aidan’s.

  Lily made her way automatically to her chamber, where Doris waited to help her change. She felt cold, as if the sunny day outside had suddenly turned cloudy.

  ‘Is something wrong, Miss Lily?’ Doris asked as she unfastened the heavy train and let Lily slump forward, freed of its weight, though she was sure she could still feel it, dragging her back and back. ‘You do look pale.’

  ‘A headache from that tiara, that’s all,’ Lily murmured. ‘And maybe too much champagne.’

  ‘You’ll have to get used to tiaras now.’

  ‘I suppose I will.’ Lily watched as Doris removed the diamond shackles and put it away in its case, next to the one holding the Lennox diamonds. They would follow her always now. ‘Oh, Doris, I am glad you’re staying here! No French mademoiselle could have done such a fine job with me today.’

  ‘It’s nothing at all, Miss Lily. I like my job. And you’re easy to work for, I must say! You should hear some of the stories the visiting lady’s maids tell below stairs when they’ve had a sherry or two.’

  ‘Do tell, Doris!’ Lily said, eager to be distracted from her doubts and fears.

  As she helped Lily out of the elaborate gown and into the bright blue silk and velvet suit, she told her stories of ladies throwing hairbrushes when they were dissatisfied, stepping over maids who’d fallen and twisted their ankles, hidden flasks of brandy in evening bags and second-hand markets.

  ‘And that Lady Rannock’s maid—it does sound as if the lady makes life heavy going,’ Doris said as she pinned on Lily’s wide-brimmed blue hat.

  ‘How so?’ Lily murmured.

  ‘They say her husband is a drunkard,’ Doris whispered. ‘And he neglects her something awful! And then she takes it out on her maid, throwing things at her, threatening to sack her. But she pays well.’

  ‘I shall have to remember to increase your wages, then, Doris,’ Lily said, appalled. If Lady Rannock was so unhappy in her marriage, no wonder she looked so wistfully at Aidan.

  The twins burst in, crying that everyone was ready on the drive to see the bridal couple off. Lily took up her bouquet and pressed it into Rose’s hands as Violet took a photo of their parents.

  ‘I won’t toss it, darling Rose,’ Lily whispered in her sister’s ear. ‘It must be yours, if you truly care for Lord James.’

  Rose’s hazel eyes shimmered and Lily knew that, whatever happened next, she had done right by her sisters. ‘Oh, Lily! If only I can be as happy as I see you are today.’

  Lily hugged her close, just as she had ever since the girls were babies. Their future was both secure and free now, she’d seen to that. ‘You will be even happier, you and Violet. I just know it.’

  And she would be happy, too. She came from tough stock; she would look ahead just as her mother and father had. She would make a bright future. Perhaps she could even make Aidan love her. Lady Rannock, no matter her present unhappiness, could only be in the past, surely. Lily was the future. She was the Duchess. Aidan’s Duchess.

  Pasting a bright smile on her face, she made her way downstairs to the farewell kisses of her sobbing mother, the still-smiling Duchess and a satisfied Lady Heath, who had done her task so well. Near the door, she met with Lady Rannock, and Lily nodded as she shook her hand. ‘Thank you for the lovely Diana,’ she said. ‘It was so thoughtful of you to make your gift a tiny part of Roderick.’

  Lady Rannock smiled, her golden hair gleaming. It was hard to imagine that anyone so beautiful could be unhappy, Lily thought, or giving up something she desired. ‘I’m sure Aidan will share all the history of this place with you. It is quite special.’

  Lily nodded and stepped through the door into the sunshine. Aidan waited for her there on the marble front steps. He took her hand in his and she couldn’t think of anything else. They dashed towards the flower-bedecked carriage, between the lines of servants tossing confetti over their heads. Lily couldn’t help but laugh, especially when Aidan swung her up into his arms to place her on the velvet carriage seat.

  He climbed in beside her, pressed close, warm and safe. The door closed behind them and they lurched forward, turning towards the Roderick Halt station where their train waited. The silence was deafening after the noise and tumult of the day and Lily felt suddenly shy with him. Her husband.

  ‘Alone at last,’ he said hoarsely and wrapped his arm around her waist to draw her even closer. His kiss reassured her as nothing else ever could. ‘I thought the day would never end.’

  Chapter Eighteen

  Lily stared out the window of her suite at the Grand Hotel, watching the night gather in and lights blink on at the sea pier below. There were still people there, lingering to listen to the last of the music on the bandstand or eat one more cone of sugar floss or rock candy, watching the pale shadows in the dusk. She almost wished she could climb down and join them, rather than face what might happen on this, her wedding night.

  But she also longed to stay right where she was and see exactly what would happen next.

  ‘If only Aidan were here now,’ she whispered. When he was with her, everything seemed just as it should. Yet, as the minutes ticked past, she became more and more nervous.

  She turned away from the scene outside and studied her bedchamber. All of the hotel, only a few years old, lived up to its name—grand. Right on the edge of the seashore, it was all white scrolls and furbelows, like a wedding cake. The lobby was sumptuous red brocade and golden curtains, potted palms and scented arrangements of roses in brass vases, with a ‘vertical omnibus’ hydraulic lift to sweep them up to their suites.

  It had been about an hour since Doris had helped her change clothes and left her, and she couldn’t hear any noise at all from beyond the connecting door to Aidan’s chamber. Lily glanced at herself in the mirror, smoothing the diaphanous silk folds of her ro
se-embroidered peignoir, sent by Worth along with the wedding gown. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders, carefully brushed into shining waves.

  She sat down gently on the edge of the turned-back bed, running her fingertips over the soft damask sheets. After what seemed like an hour, but could only have been a few minutes, the connecting door between their chambers opened and Aidan slipped inside, his dark blue dressing gown blending into the night darkness, his hair gleaming gold.

  ‘Hello, Wife,’ he said with a gentle smile.

  ‘Hello, Husband,’ she whispered as he sat down beside her and took her hand.

  He watched her carefully, his eyes such a dark green, like a stormy sea. She felt she could fall into them and be lost, like diving deep to emerge into a new world, a place of such unimaginable beauty, only found with him.

  They lay back slowly on the mattress, the soft blankets and cool sheets billowing around them, enveloping them. He rolled onto his side next to her and he reached out his palm to cradle her cheek. His long fingers slid into her loose hair, wrapping it around his wrist, binding them together. Slowly, slowly, as if in a dream, he cupped his fingers to the nape of her neck and drew her even closer.

  Her eyes closed tightly as he kissed her, his lips sliding softly over hers, and she tasted the champagne and cake of their wedding feast. And beneath, she tasted that dark, delicious sensation that was only Aidan. It was intoxicating, full of need. He tasted like life itself.

  Their tongues tangled, all artifice and hesitation and shyness melting away in sheer need and raw desire that washed away everything else. His title, Roderick Castle, her family, their past and future—none of it mattered when he kissed her.

  Through the shimmery, blurry haze of lust and tenderness, she felt his hands in her hair, combing free the last of the pins until it fell around them in a dark cloud. With a deep groan, his lips slid from hers and he buried his face in her hair, to the soft curve where her shoulder met her neck, nuzzling there. He drew her peignoir away from her, letting it drift to the floor.

  ‘Lily, Lily,’ he whispered against her bare skin. ‘You are so very beautiful.’

  ‘Not as beautiful as you,’ she whispered back. She reached out hungrily for him, pulling him on top of her so she could kiss him again, could press her starving lips to his cheek, his bare throat, to the smooth, golden skin revealed by his loosened dressing gown. He tasted of salt, sunshine, mint and wine. She held on to him so tightly, closing her eyes, to absorb all of him. His heartbeat, her breath, the vibrant strength of him.

  He was beautiful, she thought, every part of him, body and soul. She needed him beyond all words, all rational thought.

  ‘Lily,’ he muttered. His lips trailed down her bare neck, the tip of his tongue swirling in the hollow at its base. He kissed the soft swell of her breast. She gasped at the warm waves of pleasure that followed his mouth, his touch.

  She wove her fingers into his hair, holding him close.

  ‘I want to see all of you,’ he said.

  Lily nodded mutely, arching her back so he could draw away her thin silk chemise. It drifted down like a whisper, leaving her bare before him as she had never been with any man before.

  For a long, still moment, he stared at her avidly, and she couldn’t breathe. Did she look...all right? Were her breasts too small, too large? Would he find her pretty?

  ‘So beautiful,’ he said roughly, erasing all her doubts. ‘Lily, you are perfect.’

  She laughed and drew him back down to her. His lips closed over her tender nipple, drawing, licking, so shocking, until she moaned in sheer delight.

  Her eyes closed and she pushed back his dressing gown until he was as bare as she was. She closed her arms around him, sliding her palms down the groove of his spine, feeling the taut muscles of his shoulders. But it wasn’t nearly enough.

  She wanted him in every way she had ever read about in forbidden books, or heard whispers of among married ladies. Only him.

  ‘Please, Aidan,’ she whispered. ‘Please, make love to me. Make me your wife.’

  He raised himself to his elbows on either side of her. His eyes were burning with a desire to match hers. And she knew, in that moment, they belonged to one another.

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Oh, Lily. My darling.’ He pushed away his dressing gown to join her clothes, abandoned on the floor, and took her in his arms again.

  At last, they lay together, she wearing only her white silk wedding stockings. He knelt above her, tracing his fingertips over her knees, her thighs, to the bare skin just above. Lily thought she might snap from the ache, the tension. She felt so damp at her very core, so heavy with need.

  Then, at last, at last, he touched her there. His fingers combed through the wet curls and then pressed forward to circle that one aching, throbbing point.

  Lily cried out, shocked and delighted. ‘Now, Aidan, please!’

  He lowered himself over her, bracing his palms to either side of her, holding her his willing captive. His lips caught hers in a passionate kiss, a kiss that blotted out everything else. There was no doubt or fear, just the knowledge that tonight they belonged only to each other.

  She wrapped her legs around his lean hips, arching up into him, her naked skin sliding against his and making her sob with need.

  His moans aroused her, his warm breath on her ear making her shiver.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ he gasped. ‘I have to...’

  She nodded and tilted back her head as she felt his manhood press against her, sliding slowly, so slowly, deep inside of her. She bit her lip against the sudden, stinging pain.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered again.

  ‘No, no, I...’ But already the sting was fading away. As they lay still together, that pain curled away, leaving only bright pleasure.

  He pulled slowly back and drove forward again, a bit deeper still, and that pleasure burst free like a bright comet. Every thrust, every movement, every moan and sigh, drove that pleasure higher and higher. She was blinded by the burst of light.

  He suddenly arched taut above her, shouting her name, and something in her mind exploded into blue, white and red flames that seemed to consume her from within.

  Then all was darkness. When she opened her eyes, she found herself curled in the crumpled sheets, Aidan stretched beside her, his chest heaving for breath. His arm was heavy around her waist, holding her close. His eyes were closed, his hair tumbled over his brow.

  ‘Aidan...’ she whispered.

  ‘Shhh,’ he said, not opening his eyes. He just drew her even closer, until they were curled together. ‘Just sleep for a moment, wife of mine.’

  Wife. Lily closed her eyes and happily snuggled into the curves and angles of his body. She wished she could stay there, for ever and ever.

  * * *

  Aidan held Lily as she slept, listening to her soft breath, smelling her flowered perfume blended with the salt breeze from the window. The candles had gone out, but the moon was bright, the glow of lights from the beach pier making the scene dreamlike.

  He had never imagined he could feel this way about a woman. That with her he could find the feeling of home he had travelled the whole world seeking. Her sweetness, her smile, her care and concern—she was special.

  How could he ever be worthy of her?

  He drew her closer, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. She murmured softly, a tiny frown on her brow as if she was dreaming. Did she worry about the future, as he did?

  He never wanted her to worry, never to have a single pain or regret. He would make sure she never would, not with him.

  ‘Just sleep peacefully now, my dear,’ he whispered. ‘Sleep safely with me.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  ‘I’ll race you!’ Lily called over her shoulder as she and Aidan clambered down the wooden steps to the stony beach below. She plucked off her shoes and lifted the h
em of her white linen skirt to run towards the beckoning water. He wore no hat and the sun shone on his hair, on his wide smile. How free he looked, how young and beautiful! And it made her feel free, too, so gloriously, giddily happy she was sure she could take off and fly across the water.

  The cold waves lapped at her feet and she yelped, making Aidan laugh. She laughed, too, and nudged him towards the water.

  Was this what being married always felt like, then? She couldn’t understand why she hadn’t done it sooner. Being with him made everything brighter, sharper: the sea, the clear turquoise sky, the smell of roasted almonds and candy floss in the salty air, the laughter of children nearby as they paddled in the waves. It was glorious.

  Aidan caught her by her waist and spun her around and around, making her laugh even harder, laugh until her sides ached. She kissed his bristled cheek and breathed deeply of his delicious smell.

  ‘I wish we could just swim here, without messing with those cart contraptions,’ she said, gesturing to the red-painted swimming houses, where ladies swathed in long blue serge swimming costumes emerged into the greyish-purple waves. Beyond them, the pier was lively under the afternoon sun, music drifting to them on the breeze, with laughter and chatter and the clang of games.

  ‘Would you swim all the way to France, then?’ he said, his arm still looped around her waist as they stood there in the waves. ‘It’s just out there, see?’ He gestured at the horizon with his hat. He took out the engraved pocket watch she had given him as a wedding gift, which matched the pretty enamelled watch pin he had in turn given her. ‘I think we might just have time!’

  ‘Why not? I would love to see Paris with you.’ And stay as long as possible in this golden honeymoon glow. Roderick Castle and all its duties and expectations waited for them all too soon.