CHOCOLATE, TEA AND THE DUCHESS (11 page)

cravat.

"I was wondering if we could maybe repeat some of the things we did."

"You were wondering that, were you? What is it you'd like to repeat?"

She hated sounding coy, but she knew no other way to accomplish this.

"Well, I thought we could repeat it
all."

His eyes brightened, a sparkle that had been absent until now.

"Yes, Phillip,
all."

His arms came around her, and he dropped his hands directly to her bottom. She

was sore but felt amazingly pleasant, having the reminder of his hand with each step

she took.

"I can't say I am adverse to your proposal."

"I'd hoped you wouldn't be. I find I would very much like to be across your

knees."

He dipped his head down to kiss her, while she stood on tiptoes. Finally, he

scooped her into his arms, taking her at least a foot off the ground. He never

relinquished his hold on her, nor did she want him to.

As he held her, he wondered what he had ever done right in his life to deserve

her. She could be a terror, having been forced into marriage, but instead, she tried in

every possible way to please him. She wanted him, from all appearances at least, which

had an endearing affect on him.

As he held her, she felt light as a feather and very kissable in his arms. And he

found, he
wanted
to kiss her. He wanted to do more to her than she would ever allow. A

nice romp, however, on this cold morning would suit quite nicely.

He carried her to a settee near the fireplace and sat down, placing her on his

knees.

"I somehow feel like a father about to discipline my young daughter."

"I'll play that game if you wish."

His heart lurched just a bit to see her anxious face.

"You are my wife, not my daughter, Felicity. We mustn't fall into that game. I

never wish you to look at me as anything but your husband."

"All right, Phillip. I will do as you wish."

He kissed her again, leaning her back over his arm. He touched her breast,

squeezed her nipple hard. She responded by placing a gentle hand upon his face.
Dear

God, her innocence will be my downfall.

"Lay across my lap."

She accommodated him immediately. He pushed her nightrail, over her calves,

the backs of her knees, her thighs and then over her deeply pinked bottom until he

brought it to rest at her waist. "Oh, yes, my dear." He couldn't keep himself from

rubbing her cheeks, the side of his hand following the cleft between them, closing his

eyes against the thoughts over which he seemed to have no control.

"Spank me, Phillip."

He spanked lightly, playfully, at first, until she groaned. "Please."

Then he became serious, and her buttocks quivered under his hand. She cried,

but Phillip didn't stop. She'd ask when she'd had enough. As it went on and on, he

thought she'd never ask; he felt like a beast. Yet her breath caught, she tensed and

moaned, making him believe she was nearly orgasmic. He'd never felt more powerful.

"Thank you," she whispered, barely audible. She didn't move, but lay across his

lap whimpering. He held her and rubbed her bottom, the side of his hand dipping

deeper into her crease.

Felicity began to move in response to his hand. Phillip took a risk by doing this,

he risked everything, but he couldn't stop.

"Darling, may I touch you here?"

She nodded and poked her bottom up.

"Come over to the bed."

He situated her comfortably, her belly resting on pillows. His heart raced as his

imagination became consumed with possibilities. He would never hurt her and would

not take his own pleasure at this time. He was testing her, seeing how far she would go.

He opened a small bottle of oil and gently parted her cheeks enough to apply a

liberal amount to the small, pink pucker. She waggled and purred.

He spoke gently, encouragingly. "Relax, I won't hurt you."

"I know that, Phillip." She rested her head on the counterpane, not the least bit

self-conscience, as he prodded her anus with the smallest of his fingers.

She hissed when he entered her. "It burns."

"I know, but it won't for long." He stilled his progress and soon she encouraged

him to move, which he did, slowly, as she began to rock her hips back and forth against

his hand.

He reached to her quim, rewarding her with an orgasm that rivaled any she had

experienced the night before. When she begged him to take her from behind, while his

finger remained, he could do nothing but quickly release his cock from his breeches and

do as she asked.

His little wife was fast becoming a sexual being, much to his delight. But darker

practices teased his mind, at once warning that to bring them to light would destroy the

growing trust Felicity had in him. Still, he saw no way to reconcile his need for men and

his inadvertent growing fondness for his wife.

Chapter Eleven

In the many weeks that followed the wedding, Felicity had fallen into a rather

routine life. Still learning her way around the ducal mansion she shared with her

husband and at least fifty servants, seeking out privacy wasn't always easy, even for the

Duchess of Thornhill.

The Christmas holidays had come and gone, with all the commensurate parties

and dinners. They'd entertained Phillip's friends, as well as her family, and she'd felt

pride, as he'd complimented her on being the perfect hostess.

Her birthday was the next day, on February the seventeenth, and she knew

Phillip had no knowledge of it, for he had never asked, nor did she find it necessary to

tell him. Her parents, of course, would pay a call, she being their only child and all.

Her life with Phillip had settled into a predictable rhythm. One night they would

make love, then for the next three or four, Phillip was either distant or absent. When

alone in his bedchamber, they were wonderful together, but in the presence of others,

their relationship appeared merely polite. No secret looks, no unspoken shared

knowledge, nothing. They were just a man and a woman living under the same roof

with nothing but the occasional lovemaking to show for their marriage.

Phillip was never disrespectful to her, but he wasn't "husbandly" either. She'd

become afraid to approach him for anything, never knowing the reaction she might

evoke and dreading the day when he would look at her blankly and wonder from

where on earth she'd come. A dilemma she wished to solve before her feelings

completely disengaged, something she feared but prayed would never happen.

Quite early the next day, Emily had come to Felicity's room, opened the heavy

draperies, and rousted her from her slumber. "Your mother is here, Your Grace. She

insists you attend her at once."

Still in a sleepy haze, Felicity removed the bedcovers and was assaulted by the

cool air rushing to chill her bed-warmed body. Emily got her dressed and groomed,

making her mother's wait just under an hour. Not until Felicity entered the drawing

room downstairs and was greeted with a hug and kiss from her gregarious mama, did

she remember this day commemorated the twentieth anniversary of her birth.

"Oh, what a glorious day this is my darling daughter, twenty years old and a

duchess, who would have ever believed it?"

"Yes, I suppose," she said with not a little attitude in her voice.

"What is it, my peach? Are you unhappy? Thornhill hasn't hurt you, has he?"

"Of course not, Mama! It's just that you woke me so early and made me think

something was amiss. You could have called at a decent hour, really."

"I came to take you shopping for your birthday, dear. I wish to buy you

something sinfully expensive to mark this momentous occasion."

Shopping had, at one time, been one of her most joy-filled preoccupations. Her

father had always been extraordinarily generous, willing to spend a small fortune on all

the fripperies that make women happy.

"Fine then, please excuse me, I'll be but a moment."

Felicity left her mother and went to the entrance hall. Densham was at his post

and she asked for her cloak, her bonnet, and her husband. "Oh, I am sorry, Your Grace,

His Grace left for Lords some time ago."

She nodded and set about tying the ribbon on her bonnet. With that

accomplished, she went to fetch her mother. At least she'd have a day away from the

house that was all too quickly closing in on her.

* * * * *

Phillip had taken care of the needed business and was presently sitting in

Boodles, nursing a glass of very fine whiskey and reading the newspaper. Not often did

he retreat to this all-male bastion, a fine English tradition dating back to 1762. He

periodically deigned to spend an hour or two within the smoky environs so he might

enjoy the society of gentlemen whom he knew from Parliament. Today, there was

sparse company to be had, but the atmosphere was pleasant enough.

His thoughts inevitably settled upon his young wife, about whom he had only

the most pleasant of thoughts. They'd fallen into a nice pattern, leaving him to feel

better about the entire matrimonial box in which he'd been placed. He spent his

requisite three nights at the Sapphire Club and made sure to spend a night or two a

week in Felicity's bed. She seemed satisfied.

As always, she remained pleasant, her smiling face greeting him across the

dinner table or in the drawing room on the evenings he was at home. She seemed to

understand his evenings out, making his mind clearer to enjoy the sport at the club. He

didn't deprive her of the bed play in which she had come to blossom, but neither did he

allow his wants to go unattended.

Tonight would be spent at the club, after a dinner with Felicity. Last night had

been particularly satisfying in her bed, though he had not spent the entire night with

her. He'd ended the practice shortly after they married, feeling much more comfortable

alone as he slept.

Having a wife was a tremendous emotional responsibility, one with which he

had not achieved complete comfort. He'd decided early on to gauge her disposition by

her demeanor. He must be doing everything right, because she always seemed happy.

Swallowing the last of his whiskey, he made the decision to go home. He'd have

to fill several hours yet before he would take his leave and go to the club. He could,

therefore, get some work done in his library before dinner.

As he boarded his carriage, he smiled, thinking how well things were

progressing.
Having a wife isn't as I thought at all
.

His return to Grosvenor Square was unceremoniously received. Upon inquiry,

he found his wife away from home, having left no word as to her expected time of

return. All the better, as it allowed him to delve through the mound of correspondence

that plagued a corner of his desk.

The afternoon passed into the dinner hour and still Felicity hadn't returned. He

didn't worry, as Densham had informed him she had gone out with her mother. "
Better

her than I,
" he muttered as he went about consuming a lone supper.

Not seeing any reason to forestall his departure for the club, he gathered his

greatcoat and made his way to the carriage. Haynes would be expecting him, and he

intended to arrange for them to spend the entire evening together.

* * * * *

Felicity had spent the day and evening in her mother's company, which was

taxing to say the least. When she returned to her bedchamber at just past nine, she

could think of nothing but seeing her husband. She primped in the mirror before going

to the connecting door, which stood ajar.

Upon entry, Glennon turned in his haughty way and informed her that his

master was not at home. No, he didn't know when he would return. Yes, he believed

he'd gone to the club.

A bit of loneliness, tinged with envy, irritated with a thorn of jealousy prompted

Felicity to call for Emily. She changed into a beautiful black silk gown, which made her

look much older than her newly-minted twenty years. Emily redressed her hair, making

her look sophisticated, and completed the ensemble with a simple diamond necklace

and earrings.

Emily handed her the black, fur-lined cape her husband had given her for

Christmas as she dashed out the door, calling for a carriage, post-haste. Once she was

on her way, she began to rethink the wisdom of her impulsivity. A sudden giggle rose

in her throat. She must be maturing, as it was the first time in her memory she'd
ever

thought before she leaped. However, all the thought in the world wasn't going to keep

her from
this
night's appointed rounds.

As the carriage rumbled its way to the Sapphire Club, she rehearsed what she

would say to Phillip when she saw him.
I wish to have you show me around the club. Tell

me all about what you do here. Can we do things together?
She began thinking of this

excursion as a birthday gift to herself.

She'd wanted to see what went on there but had been afraid to ask Phillip to

escort her, especially since she'd done exactly that to compromise herself. But he loved

the club, so why shouldn't she become a part of what he loved so dearly?

Finally, the carriage passed down the tree-lined drive, having been admitted at