Now, that day had come, and, as she arrived at the church, she was shocked to see a crowd gathered outside. It seemed that half of London wanted to see the woman who was willing to marry a man who collected scandalous tools of erotic pleasure. She lifted her head, smiled at them all, and went into the church with utter joy in her heart.
Dash turned to watch her approaching, their eyes met, and everything else faded away. That they had been brought to marriage through their parents’ interference did not matter – she rather suspected that they would have arrived here regardless, just not quite so rapidly, for the depth of their love had increased with every day, since the moment when they had realised the truth of their feelings.
She stopped beside him, and the Minister began to speak – in a sonorous deep voice which echoed in the upper reaches of the church – binding them together, granting them the chance to explore everything that they could imagine, and more, together.
The words went on forever, and for hardly any time at all, she spoke when required, as did Dash, and it was done. With a sense of total unreality, she stepped back out into the sun.
A scatter of flower petals cascaded down on them, and Mariel laughed for sheer joy, catching them as they fell, lifting the petals to her face to inhale their scent. From now, roses would forever remind her of this day, and of the magic which had come from a simple beginning, from her grandmother choosing to teach her Russian.
~~~~~
Dash had not thought that Mariel could look more enchanting than she usually did, yet she had managed it. She was dressed in a spectacular gown, with a shimmering gold underlayer, covered by the finest lace net, all embroidered with flowers in the same shade of deep violet as her eyes. Her face was radiant with joy, and his heart swelled near to bursting with love for her.
He felt as if impossible dreams had become real. If he had been asked, just six short months before, as he prepared to leave Italy, when he would marry, he would have laughed, and said that it would be years. Yet here he was, marrying a woman whose appetites so beautifully aligned with his, in every way.
The ceremony passed in somewhat of a blur, and Dash simply allowed himself to flow with it all, to be happy.
When they reached Cockleigh House, where the wedding breakfast was to be held, he was loath to release Mariel from his arms, where she had rested as the carriage conveyed them through London. She lifted her face to his, and he bent to kiss her, his tongue tracing her lips as hers traced his.
“Only another few hours, my darling, and we can be alone.”
Her voice was husky with a desire that matched his own.
“Those few hours will be torture, my dear, but perhaps that is not such a bad thing… anticipation can so enhance pleasure…”
She reached to brush another kiss over his lips, then turned, as the carriage door was opened, and the footman let down the steps.
Inside the house, there were vast urns of flowers everywhere, and drapes of rich cloth, tied with shining ribbons. Neither of them had attempted to direct their mothers’ enthusiasm – they had simply allowed them to arrange whatever they wished. Dash thought it all rather overdone, but if it made his mother happy, he could just ignore it. What mattered most was that Mariel was now his wife, that he could, slowly, deliciously, do everything to her that he had imagined, through all those torturous hours of helping her with words, without any need for subterfuge or hiding from others.
Well… perhaps they would need to be a little discreet, and make sure that their staff were all of a disposition not to be easily shocked….
The day passed slowly, and was, in the end, quite enjoyable. The anticipation of the night remained as a slow heat deep within him, but he happily conversed with the guests – some of whom he had not seen for a very long time. His mother seemed to have invited not only the usual crowd of the ton, but every far flung relative she could find.
“Dash! I have not seen you since we met in Italy. May your marriage be far more enjoyable than mine was. But then, I was foolish enough to marry a man far older than I. William died two years ago now, and I am happier for it.”
Dash turned at the voice, and a broad smile crossed his face.
“Cousin Violetta! I did not know that you had returned to England. The last year or two in Italy, I did not hear much news from home. I trust that his passing did not leave you in difficult straits?”
She waved a hand dismissively. Her abundant dark hair trailed in artful curls over her shoulder, her vibrant blue eyes, almost as violet in tone as Mariel’s fixed upon him and she shook her head.
“No, no indeed. He did well by me – apart from the portion guaranteed for me in our marriage contract, he left me with substantial funds, and three properties – one in Italy, and two here. I am able to pursue my own life now, as I wish. Perhaps it was worth eight years of misery to reach this state, after all. But enough of me – tell me the story of your adventures since you returned – and of how you met your charming young wife. You seem well suited, even with your… scandalous habits – which I hear you have now turned into a supposedly respectable Museum?”
Dash led her to a seat in the corner, and did as asked, telling her the story of it all. Violetta was the one of his cousins he had always liked best – she was of an age with him, and had always been wilder than most young ladies. He had been horrified when her father had forced her to marry the Earl of Caldicot, a man three times her age. There had been some rumours about it, and about the young men she had been courted by, but he did not know the truth of any of it. Perhaps, one day, she might tell him. For now, he was pleased to see another friend, who cared for him for himself, and did not judge his collecting.
After some time, Mariel came in his direction. He rose, feeling his banked desire for her stir immediately, and went to her, bringing her back to where Violetta stood.
“Mariel, have you met my cousin, Violetta, the Countess of Caldicot? I last saw her in Italy, a few years past, before the death of her husband. We have been catching up on our past.”
Violetta stepped forward, and took Mariel’s hands.
“I am most delighted to meet you, Mariel – if I may so call you? Dash was always my favourite cousin, and my partner in mischief as a child. I am glad to see him happy with someone who… understands... his preferred subject of study.”
Mariel assessed Violetta, and Dash waited to see how she would react.
“Violetta, of course you can call me Mariel. I have always been prone to being terribly improper, about most things, so formality is not required. And yes, I share his fascination for things erotic. You must, when we get a chance, tell me all about that childhood mischief…”
Violetta laughed, and Dash had the feeling that his cousin and his wife would become firm friends.
“I most definitely will! But I have taken enough of his time – Dash, you should speak with others of your guests – with such an illustrious crowd here, I can see that you have become quite the fashion.”
Dash shook his head at her words.
“Who would have thought that my so scandalous obsession would lead to me being the darling of the ton?”
“I could not have predicted it – but I have always known that you were clever enough to achieve anything, if you set your mind to it.”
They laughed together, and then Violetta left them, seeing others she had not met for years. Mariel turned to Dash, and softly ran her fingers across his cheek. He shivered at the touch, wanting desperately to kiss her.
“I like her, and I am sure that tales of your childhood exploits will be delightful... this room seems full of relatives of yours, that I had no idea existed. Are they all pleasant? Or need I avoid some of them?”
“Most are tolerable, few are as worthwhile a person as Violetta, but only one is worth avoiding. My great uncle Clarence is a crotchety, lecherous old man, and generally unpleasant. But, if we are lucky, he has already imbibed so much good wine that he will fall asleep in a corner – which will make avoi
ding him easy.”
“Good. Then let us go around the room together, and discover who we have not spoken to yet. It is finally approaching evening, and my patience is wearing thin, I will admit. I want to sneak away with you…”
Dash lifted her hand to his lips, and pressed a kiss to it, watching her as he did. She licked her lips and heat rushed to his cock.
“We will do so, as early as we can. I am sure that if we leave, our parents can quite capably deal with any remaining guests. Let us be seen, just a little more, and then go.”
~~~~~
It had taken longer than she had expected to finally escape, but the second they settled into the carriage for the short drive to Hardstone House, they fell upon each other with desperate kisses, fuelled by all of those hours of anticipation. Dash pulled Mariel into his lap, his hand slipping under the delicate skirts of her gown to trace a path up her leg.
She groaned, and squirmed a little against him, moving to make his access to her core easier, even as she kissed him passionately. By the time they reached Hardstone House, she was on the edge of her completion, the inexorable pressure within her stealing her breath. But the driver’s tap to let them know they had arrived startled her, and she was left aching, wanting, as she hastily moved off Dash’s lap and straightened her clothes.
“You, my darling, look deliciously wanton. And now you will have to contain yourself, until we are inside, and alone.”
“You, Dashiell Hardstone, are devastatingly, utterly cruel, in the most delicious way. I will, I assure you, return the favour of this torture in the future.”
He simply smiled - a slightly sardonic twist of the lips that made him look even more handsome than usual. The door opened, and they descended.
Every step kept Mariel aware of her body, of the ache he had started, that could only be eased one way, but she managed to smile, and acknowledge the staff as she was formally introduced as the new mistress of the house. It took far too long, but, finally, they were able to go up the stairs, to send their maid and valet to bed, and to lock the door behind them. As the key turned, Mariel reached for Dash.
He side-stepped.
“Ah, not so quick, my wanton wife. I have something to show you first.”
She followed him across the room. He removed a key from his pocket, and unlocked a drawer of the large dresser which stood there, then slid it open.
Inside, there lay an array of items from his collection – one or two of each type, neatly laid out on a padded velvet cushion. Her breath caught, and the heat between her legs increased, as did the dampness. Her breasts felt swollen, and the silk of her gown as rough as cambric against them.
“Oh my!”
“So, my delightfully wanton wife, where shall we start? We have all night to explore each other, in any way that we wish. And I fully intend to make you scream with pleasure, many, many times. Tell me, when you began translating, which of these did you first imagine experiencing?”
Her hand went out, tentatively, and she licked her lips. She was about to get all of her dreams fulfilled, at once, it seemed. A haze of desire filled her, and her love for this remarkable man filled her heart. That he understood, so well, how to love her was the best part of all.
“This – this was the first thing I imagined you using to give me pleasure.”
“Then that is where we will begin.”
He lifted it from the drawer with a devilish smile on his lips, then pulled her into his arms for a deep kiss.
She could feel its hardness against her back, where he held it, and her knees went weak. As she sagged against him, he scooped her into his arms, and carried her to the bed.
Once he had stripped her bare, he began by kissing her – everywhere, until there was nothing but him, his cock, and the tools he applied to her, nothing but sensation.
And so it went, as he had promised, all night, one imagined scene made real after another, until the dawn light saw them both collapsing from the very best kind of exhaustion.
As Mariel drifted into sleep, safe within the curve of his arms, a thought drifted through her mind. It was quite clear that he had studied his preferred topic diligently, and become a master of the erotic arts. How very fortunate for her.
The End
You’ll find a preview of Book 1 of the Regency Scandals Series
‘The Gift of a Christmas Scandal’
(which is Alex and Selina’s story)
- after the ‘About the Author’ section of this book!
About the Author
Arietta Richmond has been a compulsive reader and writer all her life. Whilst her reading has covered an enormous range of topics, history has always fascinated her, and historical novels have been amongst her favourite reading.
She has written a wide range of work, from business articles and other non-fiction works (published under a pen name) but fiction has always been a major part of her life. Now, her Regency Historical Romance books are finally being released. The Derbyshire Set is comprised of 11 novels (9 released so far). The ‘His Majesty’s Hounds’ series is comprised of 17 novels, with the seventeenth having recently been released.
She also has a standalone longer novel shortly to be released, and two other series of novels in development.
She lives in Australia, and when not reading or writing, likes to travel, and to see in person the places where history happened.
Be the first to know about it when Arietta’s next book is released!
Sign up to Arietta’s newsletter at
http://www.ariettarichmond.com
When you do, you will receive two free subscriber exclusive books -
‘A Gift of Love’, which is a prequel to the Derbyshire Set series, and ends on the day that ‘The Earl’s Unexpected Bride’ begins, and ‘Madame’s Christmas Marquis’ which is an additional story in the His Majesty’s Hounds series
These stories are not for sale anywhere – they are absolutely exclusive to newsletter subscribers!
Here is your preview of
The Gift of a
Christmas Scandal
Regency Scandals Book 1
Chapter One
“This contract is, in my opinion, completely legal. It will stand as binding, Your Grace.”
Alexander Fortescue, Duke of Southolton, glared at the lawyer before him, and cursed under his breath.
“You are quite certain of that, Warrington?”
“Quite, Your Grace. I have examined it in detail. It was well written. My predecessor in dealing with your family’s legal matters was a thorough man, as was your father.”
Alex paced about the room, unconscious of his own fluidity of movement, his frustration driving him. The wintry afternoon sun caught deep red highlights from his almost black hair, and burnished his lightly tanned skin to a richer gold. He was a man who was admired, and, to some extent, feared. He had left England an untried youth, and returned from seven years on the continent as a mature and experienced man, with a physique and an intellect to be envied.
All of which physical and mental power was, it seemed, impotent in the face of his father’s bloody-minded determination, and manipulative cunning. Even from beyond the grave, his father had made sure that his wishes would drive Alex, no matter what Alex himself wanted.
“Is there no possible way I might avoid the marriage?”
“Not that I can see, Your Grace. Unless Lady Phyllida herself cried off – and that is beyond unlikely, as both she and her parents seem most set on the match – there is no option. If you cried off, not only would Lady Phyllida be ruined, but they would have a legal right to demand your compliance, or substantial compensation, if they chose to accept such a thing.”
“Damn! I won’t ruin the girl. I have nothing against her, personally – she is just not at all what I want to marry – in fact, I can’t say that I am anywhere near ready to even consider marriage at all, especially marriage arranged at someone else’s whim!”
“Ah… then the only other thin
g I can think of is no use to you either.”
“What other thing? Tell me anyway – I must consider every possibility – I am determined to find a way out of this contract, without ruining her, and without paupering the estate to pay them off.”
Warrington looked more hesitant than Alex had ever seen him – albeit he had not seen the man often, for Warrington had taken on their business whilst Alex had still been in Italy. The lawyer stared out of the window for a moment, then straightened his shoulders and turned back to Alex.
“This is, you must understand, Your Grace, not the sort of thing that a man like myself, in good standing, should ever seriously suggest. But you have asked for all possibilities in this matter. The only way in which I can see you getting out of this contract, without ruining Lady Phyllida, or your estate, is to do some damage to your own reputation, and that of another woman.”
“Warrington, I have no idea what you mean – what other woman?”
“Any other woman that suits you, Your Grace. If you were found in a compromising position with another woman, a lady of rank, then you would be expected to marry her – Lady Phyllida would be expected to reject you, as would her parents. The difficulty of this solution is, of course, that you would need to find a suitable woman to compromise – one you were then willing to marry. So… if you are not ready to consider marriage at all… then you are still trapped by the contract, and will be expected to marry Lady Phyllida Wormington by the time of her twenty-first birthday. Which is, I believe, at the beginning of February.”
Alex had halted in his pacing at the words ‘compromising position’, and now met Warrington’s eyes, his lips twisting into an almost sardonic smile. He gave a snort of self-deprecating laughter.
Lady Mariel's Scandalous Love: Regency Romance (Regency Scandals Book 2) Page 14