There was laughter and shouts of approval from those watching and Eliza smiled up at her new husband, happier than she ever dreamed possible.
Nic looked around the gathering, a little dazed. The children were laughing and running about, everyone appeared to be happy and relaxed, and he had been made more welcome than he could ever have believed possible and yet there were no secrets. These people knew everything about him, all about his scandalous and dreadful past, and yet… they did not care. Or at least, they cared, but they had forgiven it. They had accepted him, and they had accepted his promise that he would not let them down, would do nothing to make them regret their decision.
“We have a family,” he said, half to himself and half to Louis César, who was watching the proceedings with even more bemusement than Nic.
“You have a family,” Louis corrected with a smile.
“Oh, no.” Nic shook his head. “Prue was quite firm on this point. You are included.”
“Prue?” Louis said in astonishment.
Nic shrugged.
“Or Mama,” he said with a smirk. “She said I could choose.”
Louis snorted.
“Besides, you have a family of your own.”
Louis frowned at him and Nic gestured towards Aggie. She was whispering conspiratorially to Cat and Eliza’s little brother, Fred, who was about the same age as them.
“Don’t be foolish,” Louis said, waving this away.
“So, you’re just going to dump her in that school and forget about her, are you?” Nic asked nonchalantly.
“Well, no, I….” Louis tutted at the amusement in Nic’s expression. “Mon Dieu, Nic, I’m not that heartless. The foolish child looks up to me.”
“Of course she does. You saved her,” Nic said, patting Louis on the back. “Now she belongs to you.”
Louis looked slightly alarmed by this prospect, but he did not fight to deny it, which was telling. Nic looked across the room towards Eliza, who was deep in conversation with Elspeth Cadogan. Eliza. His wife. Lady Elizabeth Demarteau. His wife!
He grinned.
“Their glasses are empty,” Louis said, still looking a little distracted. “I shall get them a drink, and one for myself too.”
Nic watched his brother go, entertained by his obvious confusion. Then he moved towards Eliza.
“There you are, ma femme,” he said, sliding a possessive arm about her waist and feeling somewhat overwhelmed that he could do such a thing in public.
“Indeed I am,” Eliza said, looking at him with such adoration that his heart did an odd little skitter in his chest. “I have just offered Elspeth a position at the school. She wants to try her hand at teaching. Isn’t that marvellous?”
“Marvellous,” Nic agreed, nodding. “Today, everything is marvellous.”
Elspeth laughed. “Well, I agree! And I am so happy for you both, and now for myself too. Now I need only persuade Mama and Papa that it is a good idea.”
“Won’t they like it?” Nic asked.
Elspeth shrugged.
“Apparently men don’t like clever wives,” she said with a snort of derision. “We are not exactly top of the list on the marriage mart as it is, and whilst volunteering for charitable work is fine, a full-time teaching position is something else entirely, even if you don’t get paid for it.”
“Are you going to get into a lot of trouble?” Eliza asked anxiously.
“Of course.” Elspeth shrugged. “It’s funny, really. If I’d done something dreadfully inappropriate and caused a scandal, they’d know what to do with me. As it is….”
Nic laughed, having learned a little about the young woman’s rather outrageous parents and the family’s reputation for wildness.
Elspeth gave a wistful sigh. “Greer is a chip off the old block and bound to run off to Gretna Green or tie her garter in public, or something of the sort. Unfortunately, I’m dull in comparison, and only ruin my chances by being a bluestocking.”
“You will not ruin your chances, surely?” Eliza asked, though there was enough anxiety in her eyes for Nic to believe it might damage them more than Elspeth was admitting, and he knew the Cadogan sisters were already not considered the best candidates for matrimony. “You would not wish to marry a man who was intimidated by the fact you have a brain in your head.”
“Indeed not,” Elspeth retorted with asperity. “In fact I can’t help think I’d rather not marry at all, judging by the quality of most of the material on offer.”
“They do say eavesdroppers hear nothing good, do they not?” Louis César said, deadpan, having returned with the ladies’ drinks.
“Oh, I do beg your pardon! I did not mean—” Elspeth blushed, but Louis waved the comment away.
“Do not try to soften the blow,” he said gravely. “I have been wounded to the core, but I shall endure regardless.”
Elspeth laughed and Nic was pleased to see his brother relaxed and enjoying himself for once. However, he thought he had been patient for quite long enough.
“Time to go, mon amour,” he whispered to Eliza.
She shivered and looked up at him. “Yes, please.” Louis caught the look that passed between them and grinned.
“Shall I create a diversion?” he asked under his breath.
Nic chuckled but shook his head. “No, I fear we must endure a half hour of goodbyes, but I have waited this long. I suppose it won’t kill me.”
“I shall miss you. The place will feel strange with you gone.”
Nic looked at his brother in surprise. As a child, Louis had stuck to Nic like glue, hating for him to be out of his sight. It had taken years before Louis had truly believed he would not be abandoned. Nic suddenly worried how Louis would fare, not just because he was going away for a few weeks, but because now he had a wife, responsibilities, and a home which Louis would not share with him. Nic had always known Louis disliked being alone, though he had never admitted it openly before. He wondered if he ought to offer Louis a place in their home once they were settled.
“It’s only for a few weeks, Louis. Six at most. We’ll be back, and—”
Louis laughed and shook his head, reading his thoughts as usual. “Don’t look so stricken, and don’t you dare invite me to move in with you! A fine picture I would make, a grown man living with the newlyweds and acting the gooseberry. No, I thank you. I won’t pine away, I assure you, but I shall miss you, Nic. So, if you could trouble yourself to write the odd letter and invite me to dine now and then when you return, for that I would be grateful.”
“Mince alors! Don’t be an idiot, Louis. My home will always be yours. You will never need an invitation and you will always have a place there.” He stared at Louis thoughtfully. “I meant what I said before, you know. Bedwin, Prue, this family… they know who we are now. You need not pretend with them, you can trust them. You don’t need to be alone anymore. Make yourself a part of their lives too, Louis. I think they would welcome you.”
Louis was quiet, considering this.
“Perhaps,” he said.
To their dismay it took rather more than half an hour for Eliza and Nic to say goodbye to everyone, but eventually they were on their way. They were spending the night at Grillon’s Hotel before crossing to France the following day. Eliza had persuaded Nic to let her visit the infamous Rouge et Noir and see what all the fuss was about. They were going to spend a whole two weeks in Paris and then they would be joined by Lottie and Cassius before travelling with them to the south. Her sister and Cass planned to go on farther, though, adventuring through Europe as they both had longed to do, whilst Eliza and Nic would take a leisurely return journey.
Eliza stared up at her new husband. Perhaps sensing her gaze upon him, he turned and looked down at her.
“Are you happy, mon amour?” he asked, his voice soft.
“Blissfully.”
“Your eyes are almost the colour of absinthe,” he murmured, stroking her cheek with the back of one finger. “And just as dangerous to a man�
��s sanity.”
Eliza laughed. “Are you saying I drive you mad, husband? We’ve barely been married a few hours.”
“Oui, I am mad, out of my mind, and I shall do something desperate if I cannot be alone with you soon.”
“A good job the hotel is so close, then,” she said, her breathing growing erratic.
“Mmmm,” Nic said, leaning down to nuzzle the tender skin beneath her ear.
She gasped, tilting her head to give him greater access but, to her disappointment, he stopped and sat back.
“Oh. Why did you stop?”
“Because the ’otel is just around the corner and I need to leave the carriage without causing a greater scandal than marrying you did.”
Eliza snorted, not least because she adored his French accent and how it became more pronounced when he was agitated.
“Oui, I thought this would amuse you,” he grumbled.
With a sigh, Eliza leaned into him. “Will you take me to Franconi’s when we are in Paris?”
Nic turned to look at her. “Would you like me to?”
“Very much, and… if it were possible I… I’d like to see you climb that rope again, Nic. It was… It was… my word.” Eliza flushed, remembering how she had studied his muscular frame as he’d climbed, the power in his body shockingly on display.
Nic’s gaze sharpened with interest.
“It excited you, my lady,” he murmured, his tone low.
Eliza nodded, hardly able to deny it.
“Everything about you excites me, Nic.”
He smiled: a smug, masculine smile that displayed even white teeth and put her in mind of some great, predatory cat.
“Then I should be happy to oblige you.”
She shivered and was more than relieved to discover they had reached their destination. Nic hurried them out of the carriage, made short work of the manager’s greeting, and got rid of the staff by tipping them heavily and telling them in no uncertain terms that they were not to be disturbed. Eliza hardly knew where to put herself and could do nothing but blush as the staff smothered their grins, but she was too happy to be finally, blessedly alone with him to care what they thought.
Nic closed the door on the last of the staff and turned, leaning against it. “Are you really here, Eliza? I didn’t dream it?”
“As real as can be,” she said, feeling her heart scampering about in her chest like something set free of a cage.
“Are you sure?” he asked, pushing off the door and taking a few steps closer. “Because I have dreamed of this moment too many times, only to wake all alone, aching with need.”
Eliza’s breath caught in her throat. “I’m no dream, Nic.”
“Yes, you are.” He closed the distance between them, cupping her face in his big, warm hands. “You are my dream, every dream I have ever had, every moment of longing and despair, they were all for you, every one of them. Je’taime, Eliza.”
He bent then and kissed her, soft and tender at first and then with increasing ardour, yet always careful, always contained. Eliza wondered what it might be like if he were not quite so careful of her, if he let himself go, and was suddenly seized with the desire to know. She pulled away from his kiss, staring up at her.
“I want you,” she said.
Nic made a gruff sound, his dark eyes almost black with wanting.
“Just as well,” he said, striving for humour, but Eliza could see how hungry he was for her, and it only made her more eager to see him unravel.
She turned her back to him.
“Undress me,” she said, aware her voice was a little unsteady and that it had nothing to do with maidenly nerves and everything to do with the heat of desire thrumming beneath her skin.
There was a moment’s hesitation, and then she felt his deft fingers go to work. It took far too long to cast aside her dress and layers of petticoats, bustle and stays, but finally only her shift and stockings remained. She could feel Nic standing close behind her, feel the heat of his body, the warmth of his breath fluttering against the back of her neck. Gathering her courage, Eliza reached for the hem of her shift and tugged it up and over her head. She heard his ragged intake of breath as the fine material fluttered down with barely a whisper. Eliza took a step back, leaning into him, and then raising her arms as she began plucking the pins from her thick, dark hair.
Nic’s breath hitched, and his hands settled on the swell of her hips, then slid up over her waist, until they cupped her breasts. The last hair pin fell to the floor with a little metallic skitter of sound and Eliza gave a soft moan, leaning her head back on his shoulder. His hands were rough and calloused from so many years of climbing the rope, and the feel of them upon her, caressing her delicate skin was an unspeakable delight.
“Mon Dieu, you’re so soft, so fragile,” he whispered, a note of anxiety behind the observation.
Eliza shook her head and turned in his arms, knowing this was the notion she wanted—needed—to dispel. “I’m not fragile, Nic. Not in the least. Not with you… you make me strong, fearless. I won’t break, my love. I promise you.”
She pulled at his neck, dragging his head down for a kiss and showing him the eagerness she felt. She pushed at the shoulders of his coat, frantic suddenly for the touch of his skin.
“Take it off,” she demanded. “Quickly.”
He gave a startled laugh but did as she asked, casting aside coat and waistcoat as she pulled at his cravat. Nic tugged off his shirt and it hadn’t even touched the ground before her hands were on him, exploring the expanse of muscular chest, the dark flat nipples that became taut little nubs under her questing fingers. Intrigued, she leaned in and gave an experimental lick. He sucked in a sharp breath, and the shiver that ran over him made a wicked smile curve over her mouth.
“Thank God,” he said, his voice low and fervent.
Eliza gave him an enquiring look.
“If you’d known what power you held over me before now, I would have been in a deal of trouble.”
“As it is, I am only just learning,” she said, rubbing her face against the mat of dark hair on his chest like a cat. “And I am interested to know just how far that power extends.”
“Ah, Eliza,” he said, amusement glinting in his eyes. “I’ve been yours from the first, mon amour, yours to command.”
Eliza shook her head. “Mine to love.”
“And I will be until my last breath.”
He lifted her into his arms then and carried her to the bed, setting her carefully down. Eliza turned onto her belly, her head propped on her hands, her avid gaze upon him as he pulled off his boots. His hands went to the buttons on his trousers, and he paused.
“Don’t stop, you wretched tease,” she complained.
He laughed, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. It’s just the way you look at me, it’s… distracting.”
“Then for heaven’s sake hurry up and I shall distract you some more.”
Nic pushed down his trousers and small clothes and Eliza stared unashamedly at him, taking in the full picture of her husband, a man in his prime, a man who wanted her badly.
“Oh, Nic. I have wanted this for such a long time.”
“Wicked, brazen, dreadful girl,” he murmured with amusement.
“No, I’m not. I’m the perfectly sweet-natured, well-behaved, patient Lady Elizabeth,” she said, batting her eyelashes at him.
Nic snorted and climbed onto the bed. “No, you’re not. You’re my Eliza, you brazen hussy, bold and brave and fearless.”
He turned her onto her back, and she stared up at him, looping her arms about his neck.
“I am those things now, Nic,” she said. “Because of you. You made me realise what it was I wanted, who I really was. Thank you.”
Nic’s lips quirked. “You are very welcome.”
He kissed her then and Eliza gasped as his body settled against hers. He was so hot, far hotter than her, and she shivered though she wasn’t cold.
“Let me touch you,” she sai
d, snaking a hand between them. “I liked it the last time, seeing you… your pleasure.”
Nic groaned and pushed her hand away. “No. I’ll never last. Later, if you like. This time I want to do the thing right, Eliza.”
“All right,” she said reluctantly, and Nic kissed her, smiling.
“Don’t pout. You may do as you please with me afterwards, but let me love you.” He paused, staring down at her. “You’re not nervous?”
Eliza gave a little snort and then blushed furiously.
“No,” she admitted. “Just impatient. Is that dreadful?”
“Dreadful,” Nic nodded, grinning with delight. He bent his head and nuzzled the valley between her breasts, kissing the lush curve of her breast to her nipple. “Dreadful girl, how will I stand being married to you?”
Eliza sighed while he cupped the plump weight of her other breast, holding it while he teased the tightly furled peak, worrying it with teeth and tongue as she cried out.
“Nic, Nic, please….”
Chuckling softly, he moved on, tasting her at intervals, lingering to press a soft kiss to the indent of her waist, to circle her navel with his tongue until she was giggling and shivering. He returned to kiss her mouth as his hands continued lower, teasing through the dark curls between her legs and easing a finger into the damp skin hidden beneath. Eliza’s breath fluttered out in an uneven sigh as he repeated the movement, gentle and insistent. Nic turned on his side, taking her with him, drawing her leg over his hip, leaving her exposed and helpless, open to him. His touch was assured, seeking the entrance to her body, stroking and teasing until Eliza was breathing hard, her skin flushed. She pushed against his hand, wanting more, wanting him to touch her more, harder, faster, for it wasn’t enough.
She felt him smile, a soft huff of laughter.
“So impatient,” he chided, keeping his attentions just a little too light, a little too slow.
It was utterly maddening, and Eliza writhed in protest, trying once again to press harder against him.
“Nic,” she said, his name a breath of complaint. “Nic.”
His finger moved in a lazy circle, just above the tiny bud of her sex, just a touch away from the place she needed him to be. Eliza gasped as he slid a finger inside her and groaned. He muttered in French, love words and things she did not understand, but his breathing was coming faster. Nic kissed her again, deeply, slowly, moving in tandem to the finger that caressed her so intimately until she felt she would go mad. It was marvellous, exquisite, but still not enough. Nic withdrew his finger and shifted again, laying her on her back once more and Eliza gasped as she felt the hot, blunt head of his arousal pressing against her. Nic returned his attention to the sensitive peak of her sex, caressing with greater insistence as she squirmed and fretted.
Dare to be Brazen (Daring Daughters Book 2) Page 25