Silk and Scandal (24 page)

Then she smiled a siren’s smile and moved from his lap to stand before him. His heart nearly stopped beating as breathless anticipation soared through him.

“Come,” she whispered, reaching for his hand. He let her draw him from the chair until he stood before her.

Softly, she touched her fingers to his face, his throat. He groaned as she burrowed her face against his chest, her hot breath teasing him mercilessly. The tie at his waist was loosened by busy fingers. Heaven! Her touch was heaven! His body readied itself for her as she brushed the dressing gown from his body. It fell to the floor.

“Mine. All mine,” she whispered in a rush of words. “No other shall touch you.”

“Never.” His relief was so great that he shuddered with it. “Touch me. Please touch me.”

“Heavens yes.” She laughed with an elation that was contagious. Happiness, a sense of completion, filled him at the sound of her gaiety. Her touch on his torso seared him.

“Tell me that you belong only to me,” she murmured against his flesh.

“I do, oh, God, I do. No other woman can fulfill me.”

“Promise?” She laughed wickedly. “I am extremely jealous of all your experience.”

He groaned and pulled her closer. Her mouth settled over his ribs, and he gasped. “You shall receive all the benefit of that experience, love.”

“Yes, that is good! Teach me more, Nicholas. Show me in word and in deed how much you love me, and I might tell you the same.”

“Might?” He wanted to tease, to enjoy her intelligence, but his need was great. Slowly, he sucked in a breath as she lowered her lips. No part of him was left untouched. Her Tongue flicked out to tease his nipples, and her fingers lingeringly plundered the hair on his chest.

“Yes,” he murmured as his body clenched.

For a virtually untutored woman, her touch was as brazen as any courtesan’s. Her hands swept his ribs then returned to linger. When her hot mouth followed, his blood roared in his head. Before he could think to stop her, she dropped to her knees before him.

“Magnificent, my lord.” Her hands began an intimate study of his thighs, the calves of his legs. Her breath fell on his erection and he looked down at her.

From her subservient position, she returned his stare, but there was nothing submissive in her expression. Her unbound hair brushed his throbbing hardness, and when he sucked in a breath, she smiled and rubbed against him like a kitten. Only a blind fool could fail to note the aura of empowerment glowing on her face. It must be a heady thing for her to realize the hold she wielded over his body.

When she took the heavy head of his erection into her mouth, he groaned. He plowed his fingers into her silky hair and lost himself in the hot depths of her mouth. Her fingers discovered the hard, swollen sacs and plied them as she continued to pleasure him.

Nothing had ever felt so good.

His head fell back as pleasure seared him. He gripped her hair, the heat of her mouth a threat to his composure. All would be lost if she continued, so with great difficultly he looked down and murmured, “Enough, darling. Enough.”

“But why?” she whispered. Her lips were berry red, moist and tempting as the devil. “Did I not do it correctly?”

He laughed. “You do it too well, darling, but I would last for you. That lovely mouth of yours will be my undoing.”

Nicholas drew her to her feet and lifted her in his arms. When they were beside the bed, he released her and stripped the flimsy garment from her body. He tossed it aside. Everything within him clenched with desire as she stood tall and proud before him. His hands itched to touch; his mouth watered at the sight of all that glorious warm skin. She made him hungry for a taste.

When she reached for him, his mind reeled. Never in a million years had he thought to reach her so quickly. Swimming in love, he evaded her questing hands, drew her to the edge of the bed, and laid her upon it. Desperate to convey his feelings, he made love to her with his mouth. She smelled of lavender and the faint perfume that he only associated with her. Sweet. Spicy. All consuming. When the climax tore through her, she sobbed wildly, and he wanted to weep with her.

In the aftermath, he drew her deeper onto the bed and settled her among the pillows. He cuddled her close. Kisses rained over her perfect nose, her cheeks, and her eyelids, damp with tears. Gently, he nipped her jaw and throat. He took a nipple into his mouth and trailed his hand down the smooth planes of her body. His fingers found her wet and swollen with need. She writhed beneath him. Her legs parted in welcome. His lower body brushed her hip. He pulsed, ached, and needed her so much that he knew he’d die if he did not have her now.

Whispering words of encouragement, he gently turned her onto her belly and moved behind her, between her spread legs. She made a soft sound of confusion. “Shh, sweeting. Trust me,” he breathed against her shoulder. “I love you, Eliza. More than life. I want to feel you deeply, completely.”

Taking a moment, he caressed her naked back, her shoulders. He tasted the sweet indentation of her spine and the darling dimples at it’s base. The firm globes of her buttocks were delight that he sampled with his mouth and hands.

Eliza wriggled beneath him, making him smile.

Taking a pillow, he drew it beneath her belly. With a hand beneath her knee, he lifted it to the side and penetrated her slowly from behind. Her gasp of excitement motivated him to follow the will of her body.

“You are so tight. So perfect,” he said. Burying his face against her neck, he rocked slowly. Moving a slight increment, he pushed deeper against a spot that caused her to cry out.

It was wonderful, he thought, as he drove himself within her. Eliza arched beautifully to meet him, moving back frantically to take him as deeply as possible. He brushed her womb then and knew he’d died, gone to heaven, or maybe it was hell. Reaching down, he took the tender nub of her sex between a thumb and forefinger. Gently plying it, he felt her quiver. He heard her moan.

“Yes, that’s it,” he murmured. She arched against him as he lightly took her nape with his teeth.

Releasing the spot, he laved it to soothe. “Come for me. Now.” His breath came harsh, and he made a rough sound as she clenched around him. “Tell me, Eliza. Tell me. I shall die if you do not give me the words.”

“I love you!” she whispered at the pinnacle of her orgasm. The words reverberated over and over again, her tremulous cry streaming through him until he gritted his teeth and fell over the edge with her.

Sated, breathing roughly, he relaxed atop her and stroked her body as it trembled beneath him. A deep satisfaction filled him as he moved to the side and drew her close.

She sighed then daringly looped her leg over his thigh to cuddle close. He smiled with uninhibited emotion. She was his, really and truly his. Closing his eyes, reeling with the long-awaited pleasure she’d afforded him, his thoughts turned to the future they would share. Children, love, laughter. Selfishly, he wanted perfection.

Unbidden, a nibble of fear tore through the edge of his happiness. A crack of lightning rent the sky outside as if a portent of danger. Helpless to explain his sudden worry, he shivered and drew her closer. Slowly, beautifully, she opened her eyes as the lightning sounded again, illuminating her pale body lying in his arms. Still yearning, needing to be inside her for all eternity, he drew her closer and pushed inside her again.

The ominous feeling of danger didn’t dissipate and a deep desperation filled him. “Say it again,” he softly demanded, as he began to move to her gentle words.

And through the night and the storm’s fury, he said the words as well, and together they branded the phrase upon their hearts. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Outside, the thunder continued to roll its warning.

Chapter Twenty

As they rode through the outskirts of London in Nicholas’s traveling coach, Eliza was tense and pale as she stared out the window at the passing scenery. He was seated beside her on the leather squabs. He reached out and clasped her hands. They were fisted in her lap, white against the skirt of her crimson traveling gown.

“We shall be there soon,” he murmured. “The letter from your mother assures us that your father is resting comfortably and should have a complete recovery.”

Eliza looked at him. “I know what she said, dearest, but I have to know for sure. We should never have lingered so long in the country. It is silly I know, but I feel so awfully guilty.”

Reaching out, Nicholas tenderly cupped her jaw and leaned close for a kiss. “This would have happened regardless of where you were. You must see that. There is no reason to feel guilty for the extra month we spent at Windmere, and you know very well that your father would not want you to feel this way.”

“I know. Really, Nicholas, I loved every moment we shared together in the country.” Eliza saw the worry in his eyes and, for a time, concentrated on only him. Yesterday morning, they’d learned that her father had suffered some malady of the heart and was confined to his bed. In her haste to ready them for a quick return to London, she feared she’d neglected her husband.

He’d never once complained, indeed, he helped hurry along their travel preparations. She was completely absorbed in flying to her father’s side.

Melting at the soft look in her husband’s eyes, she leaned against him, allowed his arms to hold her near. “I cannot regret our time spent together. There were so many obstacles standing between us, but we have been honest and learned from each other the danger in keeping secrets. Oh, I love you so, darling. Have I been terribly difficult?”

“No. You adore Lord Henry, so your fear is natural. I understand perfectly since I still remember my own terror when Mother fell ill. Of course, we had to return.”

She smiled. “Thank you for understanding, but promise me that we shall go back to Windmere soon. The place holds many special memories for me.”

“For me as well.” He kissed her. “You may count on a return trip very soon, my sweet, though I would show you my other properties as well. I am eager to parade about the local villages with you on my arm. I fear that all despaired I would ever marry.”

She flashed him a grin. “Ah, but you are well shackled now, Your Grace, are you not?”

“I would not have it any other way.”

Nicholas had sent word ahead of their imminent arrival, so when they pulled into the Grayson drive, a servant dressed in blue livery moved to help them descend from the carriage. As a stable lad took the carriage away, they hurried up the front steps.

“Mother!” Eliza called out as Nicholas removed her traveling cloak. “Mother, we’re home.”

Her mother rushed from the parlor and enfolded her in a warm embrace. Tears filled Millicent’s eyes, as she drew back to look at her. “Oh, my dear, how lovely you look. I have missed you so.” Then she turned to Nicholas. “How good of you to bring her, Your Grace.”

Nicholas took Millicent’s hands in his and smiled gently. “Please, call me Nicholas. We are, after all, family now. There is no need to stand on formalities. Tell me how I can help?”

Eliza noted how tired her mother appeared.

“How very kind, Nicholas,” Millicent said with a faint smile. “But there is nothing to be done at present. Please, both of you come in and have tea and we shall talk. Your father is resting now, but I shall take you both up soon.”

Complying with her wishes, they stepped into the parlor where her mother poured steaming tea into Sevres china cups. Placing delicate pastries upon small plates, she presented them with a flourish. “There now, a little something after your journey. You must tell me everything.”

Eliza inhaled the scents of home and relaxed for the first time since she’d heard the news of her father’s collapse. “Windmere was lovely, as I mentioned in my last letter, and the village is charming. We had a wonderful interlude there, but your message took us aback. Tell me, how is he, Mother?”

“Much better, though he gave me quite a scare. He was attending business at the London Museum offices and was found slumped at his desk. The doctor says that he needs rest, and I intend to see that he complies fully.”

When Nicholas set down his plate and cup to take her hand, Eliza saw her mother smile. Was her affection for her husband so obvious then? No doubt, her mother was already thinking of grandchildren and nurseries. Eliza hid her own smile at her mother’s transparency.

After fortifying themselves with tea, the three of them talked, but Eliza continued to worry. She couldn’t concentrate on mundane things while her father lay sick upstairs. Finally, her mother stood and held out her hands.

“Come, dears. Perhaps your father is awake. I know how very much he has missed you, and there is no better medicine than his seeing you both well and happy.”

Upon entering Henry’s room, Eliza rushed to his side. He was awake and wearing spectacles as he read from a leather-bound book. Looking drawn and tired, he nevertheless smiled and put the book aside.

“Papa,” she cried softly as she reached for his hand. Bending close, she kissed his cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better, Moppett, though I was a bit worried for a while. Hello, Nicholas,” he said. “Sit, all of you.”

Nicholas bowed slightly and settled himself in a chair. “Wonderful to see you, Lord Henry. We were very worried when we received Millicent’s letter. What has the doctor said?”

They spent some time talking, Millicent perched upon the bed at Lord Henry’s side. When it became obvious that he didn’t want to dwell on his illness, talk turned to Nicholas and Eliza’s time in the south.

Henry smiled and took Millicent’s hand. “I am vastly relieved to see my daughter so happy in her marriage, Nicholas. I must admit, I had a feeling about the two of you.”

Eliza glanced at her husband in time to see his answering smile. “As always, you are astute, sir. We are happy. Now, tell me what I can do to help while you are confined?” Nicholas asked.

Henry frowned. “As you know, I have become more involved with the museum. A large shipment of ancient Egyptian artifacts has arrived from the East, and I was overseeing the acquisition until my heart seizure.”

“Say no more,” Nicholas said. “I shall present myself this afternoon and ask what I might do to help smooth things along.”

Eliza cleared her throat and stood. “Mother, we should let the gentlemen discuss their business in privacy. Perhaps we could catch up on all the local gossip. Hmm?”

Millicent’s eyes widened briefly. Eliza had never given a whit for gossip and well her mother knew it. Curiosity lit her expression but, much to Eliza’s relief, she politely bade the gentlemen goodbye, and the two of them left the room.

Once in the hallway, Millicent took her hand and gave her a look. “What is wrong, dear? And do not tell me you wish to hear the latest news of the ton, for I will not believe it.”

“Do not look so alarmed, Mother. I just need to talk, ask your opinion about something.”

Nodding, Millicent took her hand. Together they went into Eliza’s old bedroom where they sat upon the bed as they had when Eliza and Lottie had been very young ladies. They removed their slippers and tossed them to the floor before inelegantly tucking their stocking feet beneath them.

“I cannot tell you how wonderful it is to have you home again, if only for a short while. The house has been so lonely,” Millicent said.

Eliza stacked bed pillows against the headboard and leaned back with a sigh. Reaching to a bedside table, she plucked a small portrait of Lottie from it and traced a finger over the beloved face. Kissing it gently, she put it back and turned her attention to her mother. “But you have Father.”

Her mother grinned. “’Tis not the same. Men are pleasant on occasion, but the company of other women is such a lovely thing, is it not?”

“Indeed.”

“Well, I do not have to ask if you are happy in your marriage, for the evidence is on your face for all the world to see. And what a find is Duke Weston! Handsome as sin and utterly devoted it seems.”

Eliza sighed, loving the communication that had always existed between her and her mother. “He is wonderful, Mother. He is my world.”

“As you are his. But tell me, dear, what is troubling you? Are you well?”

“I am not sure.”

Millicent sat up slightly. “Shall I send for the doctor?”

Eliza gazed into her mother’s eyes and sought to soothe the worry there. “I do not think so. Surely, I feel some woman’s malady. My menses have stopped, and I feel swollen as a stoat.”

“Oh, dear.”

“And here,” she said, lightly touching her bosom. “I am so dreadfully tender.” Her eyes filled with tears, but her mother only smiled. “What?”

“You are quite emotional as well, are you not?”

Tears rolled down Eliza’s cheeks, and she wondered if she were losing her mind to cry so over absolutely nothing. Perhaps it was the stress, a delayed reaction to her quick marriage, emotional upheaval, and the news of her father’s illness.

“I have never, ever been a sniveler, Mother. What the bloody hell is wrong with me?”

Millicent laughed with delight and took her chilled hands. “Oh, my dearest, you are with child. ’Tis as simple as that!”

Except for the hours spent in Nicholas’s bed, Eliza had never felt such euphoria. A babe! Dear God in heaven, a babe conceived in love was the most wonderful gift in the world. A thrilling sense of wonder consumed her as she made the realization that her mother was quite right. Eliza practically hugged herself in her glee.

After swearing her mother to silence, she lay upon her bed alone and pondered the future. What a glorious beginning for the two of them.

Feeling the effects of stress, travel, and impending motherhood, she drifted off into a dreamless sleep. When she finally woke, she saw that someone had covered her while she slept. Nicholas, no doubt.

Unable to stop smiling, Eliza started at the gentle snick of a door closing. He came to the bed and sat by her side. “Awake, my love?”

“Mmm, what a wonderful rest,” she said, holding out her arms. He leaned in and took her in his arms. Kicking off his shoes, he stretched out beside her. As she laid her head on his shoulder, he teased a curl that had come loose while she slept.

“You have been tired of late, I’ve noticed,” he murmured. “Do you suppose I am at fault for keeping you awake most nights?”

Recalling the long nights of passion spent in his arms, she smiled. “Absolutely not. A man and wife are meant to learn about each other, and I have never received such a fine education, professor.”

Nicholas rose on his elbow and took her lips with his and helplessly, she melted against him. He was so hard and strong, and he smelled positively wonderful. Reaching up, she plucked the ribbon from his hair and teased the long black stuff with her fingers. He sighed against her lips then moved his attentions to her ear, her throat, and back again to her lips.

“We should go home,” she whispered, delighted by him. “How wonderful it will be to love each other in our own big bed.”

“Bloody hell!” He sat up and drew his fingers through his rumpled hair. “I promised your father that I would see to things at the museum. I am so sorry, darling.”

“I understand.” Quickly hiding her disappointment, she stood and straightened her skirts. Following suit, he fumbled with the cravat she’d plucked apart with her fingers as they’d kissed. He put his hair to rights. “You may take me home where I can supervise the unpacking. I will order a late supper for us in your chamber.”

He cupped her face in his hands. “Our chamber.”

“Yes, our chamber.”

Tonight, oh yes, tonight while they were abed, she would tell him of the babe growing inside her. Envisioning every possible scenario, she held him to her body and reveled in his love.

* * * * * * * *

Nicholas dragged himself up the long stairway and drawing out his pocket watch, he cursed beneath his breath. When he’d arrived at the museum offices earlier today, he’d found them in a state of wild disarray. Without someone to oversee their progress, the artifacts might never have been dealt with properly. Though he was happy to assist Lord Henry, this was not something he’d wanted to do on his first day back in London.

Recalling his talk with a sleepy Eliza earlier today, he realized suddenly how tired he was as well. Since reconciling with his bride, he’d not slept an entire night all the way through. He couldn’t get enough of her and found that being randy was a perpetual state of mind.

Laughing softly, he wondered if he would ever sleep through an entire night undisturbed or would it would always be like this between them—hot, hungry, and ravenous for more. Naturally, he would meet the challenge without complaint.

Even when their children came, his deepest desire was to have things between them remain the same. How dear it would be to give his children the experience of a loving household. There would be no philandering for the Duke and Duchess. Never in a thousand years would he allow his relationship with her to disintegrate into a shattered union like his parents had suffered.