The Blue-Eyed Black-Hearted Duke

by Sandra Masters

  He turned since it appeared to him the staff waited for him to speak. He walked to the doorway. Not quite at a total loss for words, all he could think to say was, “It’s a miracle. Also a good omen for my wedding to Jaclyn. This marriage will be a day to remember for it’s been blessed by heaven.”

  He spoke to the cleaning staff and Halbert outside and folded his hands behind him, with a large smile on his face. Perhaps he didn’t convince all of the servants, but a few retreated with sighs of relief. He knew how superstitious the common folk could be, but he wanted to avoid any thoughts of witchcraft against Jaclyn.

  Halbert, as always in full control, said, “Attention. Give the room a light dusting and proceed about your duties. There will be only a few guests today. We further await the archbishop to bless this union in heaven’s name. It has been preordained and most holy. Now, go.” His voice didn’t crack at all.

  Wolferton soon proceeded to his desk, saluted the Guardians, and sat in his chair. Of a certain, no longer tired, but refreshed and jubilant. He would soon become a bridegroom.

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Wedded Bliss

  Late than evening, Wolferton accepted the teases of the few men with good humor as they shook hands. The servants had small white and black bowties secured around Loup and Kort’s necks. Under the circumstances, the dogs behaved well but soon stayed behind in the study, which they seemed to favor.

  Wolferton insisted the family’s long-time religious friend, Archbishop John Morton, perform the nuptials in his lower study in front of the magnificent stained-glass window that seemed to glitter of its own volition.

  He asked Camille if Jaclyn was prepared. She rushed by him. “Yes, she’s very happy, too. Be patient. We’ll be down soon.” She grinned.

  Wolferton went to the lower study to check that all was in order and found all furniture removed and replaced with wooden tapestried chairs in rows on each side of an aisle.

  He found it hard to believe he’d be a married man within minutes. As much as he looked forward to the event, the ultimate fact frightened. The fearless colonel of the wars experienced a strange emotion.

  Fear.

  Fear he’d disappoint her.

  Fear he’d make her unhappy.

  Fear she’d change her mind.

  The stained-glass windows seemed content in their normal atmosphere, but when he looked again, the wolf’s eyes were blue, and Golden Boy gleamed. Would she see it too? Was it approval and confirmation of their destiny?

  The harmonious sound of a soloist voice singing a hymn signaled she’d be coming down the staircase. One of the maids had volunteered to sing for the occasion. Without hesitation, Wolferton left and waited for her at the bottom of the steps. She hadn’t appeared yet, but the archbishop was by his side with a warm smile.

  “I wish you both happiness.” he said to Wolferton as they waited for the bride’s appearance.

  “Thank you, Your Reverence. As an old time friend of the family, I am appreciative that you could perform the ceremony yourself on so little notice. My mother would have been pleased. She spoke of you so many times.”

  Reverend John Morton opened his bible. “Your mother was a saintly woman in all things.”

  When Wolferton’s gaze sighted Jaclyn at the second floor landing about to descend, the vision of her was more pleasurable than he believed. Sunlight sparkled off her tiara in a kaleidoscope of colors. His breath hitched when his soon-to-be-bride walked down the circular staircase holding the banister, a bouquet of orange blossoms in one hand scented the air. He wanted to remember this scene forever so he took care to commit it to memory. Not only would he repeat it to her, but to their future children. His precious bride. His innocent Jaclyn. But he laughed, she wouldn’t be innocent for long since he would show her everything she ever wanted to know, all within the bonds of marriage.

  Sweet, orange blossoms entwined in her upswept hair underneath the tiara, but as he approached, the fragrance filled his senses. He envisioned holding her in his arms intoxicated with her fragrance where he would remove each snippet painstakingly, one by one, in between breathless kisses. A sheer lace veil complemented the simple ivory dress, which conformed to her figure in perfection. A braided collar around her neck, long sleeves, a sheer illusion net across her bodice and a soft flow of her skirt stunned him with its simplicity. To him, his goddess epitomized beauty and innocence.

  Camille mentioned it was his mother’s wedding dress. For a brief moment, he thought back to the past of his mother as an expectant bride but shooed the sad vision away. His lady displayed happiness on her face. He could actually see the glow of her mesmerizing eyes. Oh, just to get lost in them, what would he see? The way she glided toward him, a radiant smile on her face and cheeks of glowing joy reminded him of how much he loved her.

  When Jaclyn reached his side, just the thought of Radolf as her husband sent tingles up her back. This good, handsome man would be hers forever. That thought, too, pleased. She held his gaze and smiled. No, it was more than a smile. She meant it as a promise of love and faithfulness to him forever, more than just the words soon to be spoken. He represented everything she dreamed about and now he belonged to her. The sunlight streamed on his dark copper hair and she deemed it a good omen. His eyes locked into hers and she knew he would always protect her. When he curled a smile at the edge of his mouth, Jaclyn sensed his joy. She gazed at the strong sunlight that shimmered and somehow felt the blessing of her father on this union, and that he was pleased with her choice of husband. This evening was perfect in every way.

  Radolf and Jaclyn followed the archbishop to the study and all three stood in front of the sacred window. The few guests turned their heads as they walked down the aisle.

  When the archbishop asked who gave the bride away, a formally clad Halbert stepped forward for the distinction. He lifted her veil and placed it over the tiara, and then joined Jaclyn’s hand to Radolf’s. Halbert stepped back.

  The ceremony was performed by the archbishop, and though it was a short one, the room seemed filled with magic. The silence in the room seemed hallowed when the groom and bride pledged their vows and rings exchanged hands. He placed the heirloom wedding ring on her finger but did not wear the matching mate that was his father’s, opting to use his ducal sapphire. Maybe Wolferton was just superstitious, but it was what he wanted. When the cleric proclaimed them man and wife. Jaclyn sobbed.

  Joy soon bubbled in Jaclyn’s laughter and shone on her face, yet she cried at the same time. “Radolf,” she whispered. “I feel a bottomless peace and satisfaction raining over me.”

  “Why this outburst of tears, my wife? Regrets?” Doubt crossed his mind. Had he rushed her into marriage before she was ready? His life flashed before him.

  “No, husband. It’s that I wish my father could be here—a momentary sentiment, for I am truly happy. No regrets, but memories I wish I could have had these past years if he were alive. I know he’s looking down at me and smiling. That will have to do.”

  He clasped his hand to hers and they turned to face the guests who now brimmed with smiles, congratulations, and jubilation. They stopped a moment to sign the wedding register for the archbishop.

  Halbert signaled the staff to serve the champagne in a toast to the newly married couple. As best man, “To the joyous couple. Let your love endure beyond the last sunset. May you remain lovers for all of life with heaven’s blessing.”

  “Thank you, Halbert. You never disappoint,” Wolferton said. A servant, on cue, handed fluted crystal glasses to the bridal couple.

  The men cheered, women sniffled, and cut crystal clinked in celebration. Halbert announced that a light repast was available in the smaller of the two drawing rooms. The bride and groom led the way, followed by the archbishop, Camille, Monsieur Dupree, and Josette. A few of the other gentlemen with their wives entered. Place markers listed guests’ names, and they sat at the round tables. A light potage was served as the first course, followed by many others. The
party may have been small, but the food prepared by a confectionary firm held in esteem by the crown, was excellent.

  The food was more than ample since not all the delicacies from the previous evening’s ball had been consumed and with the combination, it became a small feast. Not to mention, Wolferton’s kitchen staff excelled. Then Wolferton smiled and recognized that the vendor would gain many accounts because it could mention the Duke as a client, and so it was a good reference for the future, and on short notice, too.

  Because of the events the night before, it was decided not to have musicians. After desserts, the men retired to the gentlemen’s room for libations and the women proceeded to the large parlor.

  Camille approached Jaclyn. “I’m happy for both of you. I will leave with Monsieur Dupree and Josette for a short stay at their townhouse. We are going to the opera, Covent Gardens, and a few other places.” Her smile was broad and genuine. “I so want you to have a joyous honeymoon here, alone with each other.” She gave Jaclyn the warmest of embraces and kissed her brother. “We are also going shopping. I’m determined to buy a hat of teal feathers, perhaps with a tiny bird nestled in the tulle. Silly of me, but something in me wants to do it.”

  Monsieur Dupree extended his warmest wishes, also. “We shall keep Lady Hattersley quite occupied. She’s already inveigled me into providing pairs of shoes, slippers, and boots. I might add she’s requested dancing slippers of teal kid leather testing our abilities in dye works.” He moved aside.

  Josette chatted like an endless magpie, hugged her friend, and winked. “I will keep Camille busy. I love to shop, and Papa knows all my weaknesses which we’ll show to your sister, Your Grace.” She gave Jaclyn a light embrace. After a bow to the duke and a wink to Jaclyn, she moved away.

  Jaclyn then embraced Camille. “I hope you find your heart’s desires in all things. We haven’t been shopping in a while. You have a lovely glow about you. I wonder why?” She kissed her new sister-in-law on the cheek.

  Halbert saw to the guests’ departures. Servants carried Camille’s luggage and then some. The house became devoid of people.

  The quiet in the house deafened until her husband gathered her in his arms, “Lady Wolferton, perhaps we should stroll the gardens and let the late evening air have its way with us. I sense you are either curious, frightened, or both.” He pulled her along with him as he walked stridently out the French doors onto the veranda. “I see Halbert has planned libations for us. My man could always read my mind.”

  He held the wrought iron chair out for her, and Jaclyn sat. “Champagne chills in a bucket, claret orgeat, and also cognac is available. It is not your intent that we drink all?” she asked with a sly smile.

  “Perish the thought. Two things can happen. We can get bosky drunk or bloody sick. The main rule to hold your liquor is that you choose one type and stay with it until you do not wish to drink anymore.” He took her hand across the table where, he too sat, “Make your choice, Duchess.”

  “Duchess? The title sounds so strange. I imagine I’ll get used to it. All I know is that from the first day I laid eyes on you, I was drawn by your goodness. I thought you the handsomest man I’d ever met. Any bachelor who would take a friend’s daughter into his bosom and care for her ten whole years was someone I wanted to know better as I grew older.”

  He handed her a glass of cognac. “Sip, darling. You haven’t told me this story.”

  She sighed, sipped the potent brew. “How could you know you were my whole world even then? My mother was gone with the wind with the general. There were no other relatives to claim they wanted me—especially not an orphan girl with dreams and dreads.”

  “That was the past, Jaclyn. We are now in the future. Each of us has had a long journey. Was I so frightening to you?

  “No, not you. I hesitate to mention, but I wrote you many letters as I got older…letters that were never posted. The words were from a young, infatuated girl who thought you were the most elegant man in her universe.”

  Surprised, he asked, “Where are those letters now?”

  “In a secret place. It’s a rather large box.”

  “Perhaps we can read one or two later after…” he murmured.

  “Perhaps….” She was quick to answer.

  Wolferton pulled his chair closer, the liquor laced downward to his aching cock. She had that faraway wide-eyed expression while his mind was on this wedding eve. However, he couldn’t be selfish and admit his thoughts were elsewhere. By her conversation, it appeared the prior night’s events were banished to a corner of her mind, which unleashed other memories of her childhood. Every pore of his body was set to protect and cherish her, but those same pores wanted to do so many other enticing things also.

  As if she read his mind, ”I’m not frightened anymore because you’re with me. Hold me in your arms, my husband, for there I know I’ll always be safe.”

  He stood, like a lion released from a cage, and lifted her from the seat. “If you only knew what’s in my head.”

  He leaned toward her, so his lips were on hers, and she gave herself to him. What started as a gentle kiss became so much more profound. His tongue darted in to separate the seams of her mouth. When she opened to him, his eagerness displayed the give and take of tongue and lips that soared into a white-hot desire. Passion boiled with even hotter lust. The feel of her luscious body against him awakened the dormant tiger that now tented the fall of his pants. His arms on her buttocks pressed her into his arousal.

  “Jaclyn, what you do to me is my undoing.” His engorged member demanded more of her. He wanted to taste her and explore every inch of her warm satin flesh and spend hours and hours showing her how much he loved her in every way possible. He looked forward to each moment to cherish and hold to him forever. The scent of her perfume intoxicated.

  “Show me what you want me to do?” She begged the question while her lips worried her mouth.

  The large tree off the veranda offered the opportunity for Wolferton to hold her against the trunk of the ancient oak. One arm now lay on the tree, but his body held her in its vise. He moved his other hand and lifted her skirts as his lips held her captive. He continued to glide his hand under her dress to skim her hips and thighs, and then found the soft skin to her most private pleasure point. His ardor was in power thrust mode. Oh, how he adored the starry-eyed appearance on her face that tangoed a dance only for him. Her moans gave him permission to continue. A little smile curled the corner of his lips. As if he could stop giving her pleasure. She made him feel potent and in that there was immense satisfaction. Wolferton’s aching male member stood erect and throbbed.

  He moved a finger and inched its way to her bud and another moan stirred him on. The feel of her insistent hands toured his back until her arms pulled him until there they were so close, they were one.

  He withdrew his finger, and she cried out, “No. Want more.” Her head rocked from side to side, lids half-closed as she arched her body into his. Wolferton recognized that the time was near for both of them.

  In a swift motion, he slid the gown off her shoulders, her arms, until it fell to the ground. Her other clothes followed until she was naked beneath his gaze. His clothes were also discarded and flung to the air.

  A scandalous grin crossed his face. “So the angel likes when I explore her pleasure mound?” He guided her to a grassy patch away from the windows and pulled her to the ground. Wolferton covered her with his anxious body, his erection proud and impudent. Jaclyn and he resembled two prone decadent marble statues, legs intertwined, with flesh against flesh.

  He brushed his lips against hers and then spoke, “Trust me, my love.” In between words, he leaned back and eased two fingers into her warm, wet channel. He probed, massaged, twisted with ease in her soaked entrance while he kissed her lips, throat, neck, and laved his tongue in imitation of what his digits encouraged.

  “Something inside me is about to explode,” Jaclyn managed to speak in racing breaths.

  “I wa
nt to show you paradise.” Wolferton’s fingers withdrew. He rubbed his thumb and index finger over the nub of her sex. She responded with wild thrusts. A moan slipped through her lips, and Jaclyn cried out. “Don’t stop.”

  He bit his lips at the sight of swollen nether lips turned deep pink. The beauty of her unblemished body taunted him, and before he could think, he covered her with his mouth, and centered his cock at the juncture between her legs. Yes, this is where he always dreamed of being. Ready to plunge. No need to hold back the immense desire he had for her. The moment was now. He prided himself on waiting this long, but blatant desire beckoned.

  He moved his mouth over hers, devouring its softness. Wolferton teased at her with his member, but did not penetrate because he’d cause her pain, not here, not now. His only desire was to give her release and then he would show her so much more of love sport.

  Just to see her quivering body respond to his lovemaking gave him pure pleasure. A first time for a maiden should be memorable. When her moans purred as she echoed his name, “Radolf. Oh, Radolf,” it sent waves of gratification through him too. When she screamed his name again, he knew the currents of her desire achieved satisfaction.

  Her breath now slowed, “Yes, my love. It will only get better. Come. Let’s go where we can be private. I’m anxious to have you completely.” He planted a tantalizing kiss at the hollow of her neck.

  His took his jacket from the ground and placed it around her when she stood. They gathered their clothes and stealthily went to the private back entrance to his second-floor bedroom suite where they scattered their garments on the rug. Libations awaited them there also.

  His anxious cock produced another demanding arousal. Wolferton gazed at Jaclyn, a glorious sight in his purple jacket, all long limbed legs in an open garment that exposed beautiful budded taut breasts. He walked toward her and handed her a glass of cognac, after he gulped a full draft. He locked the doors, “I’d commission the family artist to paint you, but I don’t think I could bear others having the enjoyment of that body. It’s mine and mine alone.”