Lord of Sin

by Boyd, Heather

  Mother glared at Aunt Hesper in obvious exasperation. “Have you understood nothing? Who will marry my daughters now that one has shown herself to be so particular? If a duke is not good enough for Portia, who would even ask her to marry?”

  Auntie stood slowly. “You’ve nothing to worry about on that score. Let’s you and I have a little talk before you borrow trouble where there is none. Do you happen to have a powder? My head is aching like the very devil.”

  Mother instantly helped Aunt Hesper to her feet and they whispered to each other all the way out the door.

  Portia leaned closer to Julian. “What is wrong with Auntie?”

  “She gave up the drink yesterday.”

  “Oh, I was hoping she would take my advice.”

  “She did it for you?”

  “I warned her that no mother would allow a tipsy woman to hold their children. She aches to see the next generation of Wade in the nursery.”

  Wade’s eyes drifted across the room to where they had an audience still.

  Lord Sullivan and Lavinia were still sitting with them, watching them avidly, but Julian took up her hand anyway. It was high time for him to do what he should have done a long time ago. He brought Portia’s fingers to his lips and kissed them softly. “We’re on the right path now.”

  “Yes, we are,” she agreed, clutching his hand tightly. Portia raised her free hand to touch his face. “Together.”

  He nodded. “Together.”

  “What are you doing holding my sister’s hand like that?” Lavinia asked, interrupting the tender moment with an ill-timed question.

  “Quiet now, Miss Lavinia,” Sullivan warned. “Your sister is in the middle of something vitally important.”

  “Indeed,” Julian promised with another twinkle in his eye for Portia.

  “I’ll explain later,” Portia promised her sister without looking away from Julian’s face.

  “He should not be holding her hand, and she should not be messing up his hair,” Lavinia declared loudly. “Mother would not like it. It isn’t proper.”

  “He’s about to propose,” Sullivan remarked. “Something that does not require witnesses. Why don’t you and I find a book to look at in your library? I understand you are a great reader.”

  “Do you like to read?”

  “When I have time,” he answered, and surprisingly, Lavinia left the room with him.

  Portia, already lost to Julian and the spell of anticipation they were weaving together, did not worry about any possible impropriety. Desire, attraction, love, and honesty compelled her to stay right where she sat now. She wet her lips, impatient for what came next.

  “I have waited so long for this day,” Julian murmured.

  “I was dreadfully slow in understanding. Forgive me.”

  “Already done. Besides, some alterations cannot be rushed. I prefer to do things right when I can.”

  Portia arched her brow. “Like long courtships and extravagant wedding feasts.”

  “I have no objection to either one.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Whatever you require is yours. Just tell me what would please you.”

  Portia flexed her fingers in his hair, loving the feel of it slipping through her fingers. “I have already been courted by you, when you consider our history. Long walks, dancing, conversation and confidences shared. Even my favorite flowers.”

  “It’s been a very long courtship indeed, if that’s how you see our history. Three years nearly since I first laid eyes on you. I have something that I must say first, though.” Lord Wade cupped her face lightly and drew closer. “I’m entirely without funds, pockets to let, a fortune hunter. My house on Hanover Square will be gone soon, too, I hope. I’ve sold everything of value just so I could stay in London to see you. I have no ties to anything but you and my small family. My future is in your delicate hands.”

  “Good.” She smiled despite the pain his confession caused her. “I happen to have a good dowry, and that includes a house meant for my son. I would like us to live there when we marry. Your aunt, and your brother whenever he visits, could stay, too, if they want, and my mother and sister will visit often, I hope. We could be very happy there.”

  “I’m always happiest when I’m with you,” he promised. He slid off the settee and knelt at her feet. “What color is your garter tonight,” he whispered as his fingers grazed her ankles.

  Portia grinned and slowly raised her gown up one leg to show him. His hand settled on her knee firmly—but then footsteps rushed toward the room.

  Father had terrible timing.

  “What the devil are you doing on your knees?”

  Julian discreetly flicked her gown down over her leg as he rose. “Perhaps we might talk in private, Mr. Hayes.”

  Although her father frowned, and she worried that it was too soon for this conversation, Father did agree to leave again with Julian.

  Portia wished Julian good luck in a whisper and then sat back, breathing a sigh of contentment. Father might say no to Julian today; he was broke, and Father abhorred fortune hunters. But eventually he would come around, because Portia would say yes to no one else.

  Mother and Mrs. Lenthall returned, followed by Lavinia and Lord Sullivan. The earl seemed uncharacteristically quiet, and Lavinia seemed to be blushing furiously.

  It took two cups of tea before Julian and her father returned. Father headed for the whiskey, but Julian once again settled at her side with a firm nod. “I forgot to tell you that when I was speaking to the Marchioness of Ettington the other day, she vowed to host a ball when I married.”

  The whisky decanter landed heavily on the silver tray. Father turned, eyes wide.

  “A ball at Ettington House?” Mother exclaimed in astonishment. “What an honor!”

  “Indeed. Actually, it was more of a threat, now I think about it closely.” Julian shook his head. “I think the Marchioness of Ettington may not be finished making me pay for that thing I said to her before she married.”

  “Poor Julian. You must learn to hold your tongue around proper women more often.” Portia laughed softly. “Thankfully, you needn’t worry about offending me anymore.”

  “I never once did,” he admitted with a laugh. “I grossly underestimated the marchioness’ nature then, though. Her penchant for revenge is quite unexpected.”

  “I definitely need to further my acquaintance with Lady Ettington,” Portia declared. “She seems like someone I could be friends with.”

  “Winter at Exeter’s estate should be interesting. You, Anna, Lady Windermere, and Lady Ettington together for a month under the same roof? I should probably be afraid,” he whispered. “The trouble you ladies could get into boggles the mind.”

  “You’ll be there to watch over me.” Portia sighed and caught his hand in hers. “We are going to be all right, my lord.”

  He stared back at her. “Will you marry me, Portia Hayes?”

  Portia’s eyes prickled with the threat of tears. She was so happy, she couldn’t speak for several very long seconds. “Yes!”

  “Oh, my word!” Mother exclaimed as she collapsed again.

  This time she really did swoon, although they tried to rouse her.

  Mrs. Lenthall winked. “She’s had one too many shocks for today. Give her time, and I think this calls for a celebration as soon as she wakes up. Do carry on with what needs doing.”

  Portia held Julian’s hand to her cheek. “I love you, Julian, with all my heart.”

  Mother roused then. “David, where are you,” Mother called, stretching out her hand blindly to her husband.

  Father sighed and moved to stand over his wife. They exchanged a long look, and then he caught up her hand. He patted it soothingly. “It’s all right, my dear. Everything will be all right now,” he promised. “Lord Wade will look after her well enough.”

  “But he’s a fortune hunter,” Mother cried in a scandalized whisper.

  “He is not!” Portia declared in his defense. “He’s never cared
about my fortune. He loves me!”

  “I don’t believe he is after her money, either,” Father announced, eyeing Julian through narrowed eyes. A half smile turned up his lips suddenly. “But she’s your problem now, my lord. Don’t let her change her mind a second time.”

  “Never. I’ve a fair idea how to keep her happy.”

  Portia blushed as Julian smiled down upon her.

  He winked, and then grasped her about the waist and brought her to her feet. He spun her around in a tight circle.

  Portia leaned into him and looped her arms over his shoulders. She stared into his eyes. “I do love you.”

  “That’s all I ever wanted.” Julian’s smile widened, and then his lips were at her ear. “But I’ll need a peek at those garters of yours again before I leave tonight.”

  How delicious was it to whisper scandalous intimacies to each other in a crowded room with someone you loved? “I’d planned to show you more than just my garters.”

  Lord Wade sighed deeply. “As long as I’m the only one you tempt.”

  She winked. “I can guarantee you that, my lord.”

  Julian framed her face suddenly and pressed his lips to hers in a hard kiss that never seemed to end.

  Epilogue

  Portia gasped as the new carriage rounded a corner, throwing her into the well-padded side. “Julian, please,” she begged.

  He chuckled. As a husband of three weeks, Julian was well pleased with the desperation of his wife’s plea for mercy. He slid his fingers into her sex again and returned his lips to torment her dripping folds with hungry kisses. Portia was so close, he could almost feel her body vibrating with lust.

  The carriage was cloaked in darkness, interior lights snuffed as they moved along the dark streets, barely an arm’s reach away from other people.

  Portia enjoyed the danger of discovery, almost as much as his touch. Although he could not see her body, he knew her very well. Most likely she was a little embarrassed by her pose, but not enough to stop him pleasuring her. He adored being a husband, and he never hesitated to drive Portia wild when he saw a chance to be wicked.

  He had brought little to the marriage but his hunger for her.

  This was not even the first carriage encounter they’d enjoyed, but it was the most adventurous. Julian had an insatiable appetite for her body but time was short. He loved nothing more than to shock her by whispering sweet seductions in her ear at every opportunity. The way she seemed to melt at the mere suggestion of intimacy kept them both well satisfied in the bedroom, and the hallway, and the storage cupboards on occasion.

  However, tonight there was little time to dally. They were going to their first tonnish engagement since their marriage. They should be arriving at Lady Fox’s soiree at any moment.

  Portia suddenly pressed her hands down on Julian’s head, urging him to satisfy her quickly. He doubled his attentions, lapping at the little bud at the junction of her thighs and twisting his fingers into her body again and again, until Portia finally cried out softly.

  He stayed with her until she settled then withdrew to his own side of the carriage, willing his erection to subside. It wouldn’t do to present himself to tonight’s host with his sword at full attention.

  Portia sat up slowly, scowling. “You don’t play fair, husband.”

  “You needed the distraction, wife.” He grinned. “I imagine your cheeks have a delightful glow about them now. You were looking a little pale when we left home.”

  “Of course I am anxious about tonight.” She straightened herself, and then pressed her palms to her cheeks. “It is our first social engagement as husband and wife.”

  “No one cares about anything Montrose has said about you. He doesn’t even know the truth about us, either.”

  Montrose had made an attempt to disparage Portia, and the ton had risen to her defense in a way they rarely did for anyone. He’d had plenty to say about them marrying, too. However, with the Duke of Exeter’s congratulations, the ton suddenly saw nothing wrong at all.

  Largely ignored—and angry about it—Montrose had returned to the country to lick his wounds.

  The carriage rolled to a sudden stop and, thankfully, when Julian alighted, he was in full control of his body. He held out his hand to assist Portia’s exit but she staggered onto the pavement as if her legs were weak still from her climax.

  “Goodness,” she exclaimed as the carriage drew away. She stood at his side, fluffed out her costume and breathed deeply, lifting up her breasts quite by accident.

  Julian was very tempted to call the carriage back. Surely he could find the time to feast on the bounty inside that scrap of bodice. She was about to fall out of it anyway. “You take my breath away.”

  “As did you, my lord. Quite thoroughly.”

  She wound her arm through his and he led her up the stairs to enter the townhouse.

  Their hosts, friends of his for years, greeted them with exuberance and warmth. No one but Montrose had yet to declare Julian had married better than he deserved, although there were times he wondered if he really hadn’t. He had no concerns about money any longer. The great weight of apprehension about the future had lifted from his shoulders the moment he’d moved into Portia’s late uncle’s home and declared it his own.

  That was not to say they had finished moving things in and out of rooms. Old Uncle Oliver had hoarded everything that seemed to have come his way. A week after their marriage ceremony, they’d placed the knocker on the door. A trickle of visitors had became a deluge as word spread that Julian and Portia were happy to return any lost items they might unwittingly have inherited.

  Julian drew Portia to his side as they met the waiting hosts. “We are delighted to be with you tonight, Lady Fox. Have you met my wife yet?”

  The couple laughed because they were well acquainted with Portia already, had attended their wedding, too, but still congratulated them on their marriage. Julian could not quite get enough of telling people that Portia was his lady.

  Lady Fox drew close. “It was high time someone good took you off the market.”

  “You’re not the first to say so,” he whispered back. “I never knew my bachelorhood was of such concern to others.”

  “To those you helped find happiness, it is.”

  Julian smiled.

  “You might not believe it, but Exeter has graced us with his presence tonight,” she whispered.

  “Excellent.” Julian was not done helping the duke, and he did have a question.

  Julian and Portia’s arrival was announced and the assembly cheered. He led Portia into the ball, bursting with pride to have her on his arm at last. He might never get used to the feeling of satisfaction he experienced as other men looked upon her grinning countenance. He was finally the luckiest man in any room now.

  They had gone no more than a few feet into the ballroom before they were swamped with well-wishers and congratulations. Portia was asked to dance time and again, and it wasn’t too long before she announced her card was full. Those who had missed out tried to claim a dance at a future ball there and then. Julian laughed along with everyone else and took great delight in sending them on their way.

  He peeked at her dance card. “So who is the lucky swain to dance with Lady Wade first tonight?”

  “That would be Lord Grindlewood,” she murmured with a slight frown. “I always thought I would be less in demand as a married woman.”

  “No doubt one of them will try to steal you away from me before the night is over.” He pressed a kiss to her brow. “Who is your partner for the supper dance?”

  She turned to him, a shy smile on her lips. “That would be you, my lord.”

  “You saved me a dance?”

  “Of course. Didn’t you want to take me into supper?”

  He pulled Portia close. “I suppose I could do that, or I could do what I’ve always longed to do with you at supper, instead.”

  “What was that?”

  “Lure you to a dark corner a
nd kiss you witless,” he promised.

  Portia laughed and leaned into him a little more. “I think I’d like that. How do we do it?”

  “Meet me on the terrace as soon as your dance with,” he took her card and peered at her list of partners, “Sullivan is over. I’ll be watching for you, as always.”

  She took her lip between her teeth and her eyes glowed with lust. He’d planned to only steal a kiss and hold her tonight, but perhaps his wife would rather he be more thorough in his seduction.

  She exhaled slowly, and her eyes fell to his chest. Her fingers toyed with the buttons on his new waistcoat. As instructed, he’d happily economized on buttons when he’d visited his tailor. There were just three on this one, easily undone, too. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “You shouldn’t look at me like I’m a meal, darling. What will people say?”

  “I want them to say we’re a love match.”

  “They will soon enough,” he promised.

  Her first partner was coming their way, but Portia suddenly lifted up to whisper in his ear, “I can’t wait to be alone with you again later.”

  He held her close a moment longer. “I might be desperate to put my hands on you again by then, too, so don’t keep me waiting.”

  She grinned. “My lord, you say the most exciting things to me.”

  “As long as I’m the only scoundrel you listen to.”

  She nodded. “The one and only.”

  Portia was swept away by Lord Grindlewood to dance under the bright chandeliers, smiling merrily. Julian watched as she was passed from man to man, but they always brought her back to him at the end of every set. Portia basked in their attention, and couldn’t help but flirt with her partners and other men. But just when he feared he’d been forgotten, her eyes would lock on his, and she’d smile in a way that filled his heart with love.

  He was very lucky indeed.