The Prince of Ravenscar (45 page)

Corinne heard a slight sniff, and looked from the corner of her eye toward Devlin's parents, the Duke and Duchess of Brabante. Both were sitting straight and proud, the duke obviously content, but Lorelei, dressed in blazing purple, mouth pursed, was not at all pleased the ceremony wasn't in Saint Paul's Cathedral in London so all who counted could see her son's nuptials. And what, Corinne wondered, did the old besom really think about Roxanne taking her place one of these days? She could imagine Lorelei bursting her corset stays with rage. Julian had told her Devlin had confided to his father that Roxanne was gifted with financial matters, and everything had changed. Devlin said his mother had actually bestowed one stingy smile upon Roxanne. Corinne didn't believe it, but still she'd wager the old bat was deliriously happy the Monroe coffers would overflow, and who cared if she was only a baron's daughter and her hair was the color of sin? But she'd carped and carped about Saint Paul's, where she and Devlin's father had pledged their troth so many years before. Devlin had patted his mother's hand. “It is all right, Mother, you will be a radiant star shining amongst low-lying clouds.” Whatever that meant. To Corinne's surprise, Devlin had told Roxanne his mother had shut her mouth.
A radiant star shining amongst low-lying clouds?

As for Roxanne's father, Baron Roche, he towered over those who sat next to him, his eyes—Roxanne's green eyes—glittering with pleasure. His hair was a rich burnished copper color, threaded only lightly with white at his temples, a beautiful man, a kind man, filled with humor and the sheer pleasure of being alive, and she wondered, had Leah become a shrew because the father had preferred Roxanne? Who knew why people were like they were? Sophie had told Corinne, laughing, that Roxanne promised to continue dealing with her father's financial investments. She'd added that Julian was giving it consideration as well.

As for Leah, Lady Merrick, she sat three rows behind Corinne, alone, silent, contained. Had she changed a bit since Richard Langworth? She appeared more aloof, perhaps, more measured in her speech to her sister and niece. Was she really less of a viper now? Corinne was surprised to see Richard Langworth standing against one of the nave pillars at the back of the church. She hadn't seen him come in. Was he looking fixedly at Leah? What was he thinking? She thought again about what Julian had said—Vicky had accidentally shot Lily while showing her their father's new pistol, and then she'd been too paralyzed with fear to say anything. Somehow, Corinne thought, deep down, she knew there was more, but she would never know.

But what did it matter? Lily was long dead; there was no more strife between the Langworths and her beloved son. As for Baron Purley and Vicky, they'd left two weeks before for America, to Washington, the colonists' capital, but Richard had remained, the master of Hardcross Manor. What would happen, she wondered, between Richard and her son?

She heard a slight cough and looked over to see Lord and Lady Hammersmith—James and Corrie Sherbrooke—sitting next to Sophie's father, the Reverend Wilkie, who'd acted when he'd arrived at Ravenscar three days before like he'd been shot in the gut, so disbelieving he'd been of his daughter's “uncalled for” good fortune, the obnoxious bore. Corrie actually looked pregnant now, and as lovely as could be, gowned in pale blue, her husband holding her hand, never, it seemed to Corinne, letting his wife out of his sight, and wasn't that lovely?

The service was over. Reverend Hubbard beamed as he gave the two grooms permission to kiss their brides. Corinne watched Julian lift Sophie's veil off her face. He looked down at her, but not all that far down, laughed, picked her up, and twirled her around. When he lowered her, he gave her a smacking kiss that brought laughter and cheering from the crowd. There was even more laughter when Sophie grabbed his face between her mittened hands and kissed him back.

The crowd seemed to hold its collective breath as they watched Devlin and Roxanne. Devlin slowly lifted his bride's veil, looked at her for a very long moment, then slowly brought her against him. He kissed her gently, then rested his white cheek against her equally white cheek. He closed his eyes as they stood silent together.

Corinne found herself looking up at the beautiful stained-glass window her husband had commissioned for the church back before the turn of the century. A sudden beam of sunlight speared through. Corinne lifted her face to the warmth.
Our children are joined, Bethanne, as we wished them to be. I know you can see them and know you are smiling along with me. I miss you, dear friend, but know I will keep watch over our beautiful daughter.
Corinne felt the warmth deepen, felt it all the way to her bones, felt a peace flow through the air itself, and she thought of Julian's father, an old man who'd worshipped her all those years ago, and the gift he'd given her, a prince.

THAT NIGHT IN PLYMOUTH

 

 

 

R
oxanne paced back and forth in front of her new husband, who was lying at his ease on the huge tester bed in the center of the corner room that looked out over Plymouth Harbor. He was naked, a single sheet pulled to his waist, and he was harder, he thought, than the floorboards beneath the bed. He eyed her with amusement mixed with lust. She was wearing a sinful pale pink peignoir, sheer as a veil, over her equally sinful pale pink nightgown, striding back and forth in front of him, the long-legged stride of a young Amazon.
His
Amazon. He wanted to grab her and consign that pale pink to the ether, but he knew her—and prepared to enjoy himself. She whirled about to face him, her hands on her hips, the firelight behind her outlining her long legs, haloing her glorious hair, hanging all loose down her back. He thought of those long legs of hers around his flanks and shook with it.

“It's true, I tell you, Devlin. It's true! The little hussy was laughing just now in the hallway, telling me how the prince was helpless to say no to her, how she seduced him in his estate room surrounded by all four spaniels—two full days
before
the wedding. She all but danced off to their bedchamber after she whispered to me she knew
everything
now, and I didn't know spit, and here I was, her
elderly
aunt. She laughed and laughed, telling me how much fun I was going to have if you were but half the lover the prince was. Then she looked mournful and said she couldn't imagine any man being a more superb lover than the prince, but doubtless you and I could admire our mutual whiteness if you weren't all that certain what to do. I could have smacked her, Devlin.

“And then I could have smacked you. You want to know why?”

He nodded, trying not to laugh.

“I could have smacked you because I remembered that night in the hallway and you wanted me against the wall, and I was eager, I'll admit it, Devlin, I was excited and feeling things I've never felt before. I wanted to learn what this lovemaking business was all about. But
nooooo
—you became all saintly and noble, and sent me back to my bedchamber with a pat on the cheek. But the prince didn't send Sophie on her way, did he? No, he did not wait.” She waved her fist at him.

Devlin was laughing so hard he nearly fell off the bed, aware that his bride was standing, watching him, tapping her foot on the carpet. When he was finally able to speak, he said, still grinning like a fool, “Sophie is a wonderful actress to convince you so completely. She made fine sport with you.” He laughed again. “My darling, listen to me. When Julian told me a man shouldn't take a woman until she was his wife, he meant it. Julian has so much honor, it sometimes makes me want to punch him, like this time, since I wanted you so very much. But you see, I took what he said to heart. I believed him. I know he would never take Sophie until”—Devlin looked at the ormolu clock on the mantel—“until about now.”

Roxanne's eyes were narrowed on his face. “She could not fool me; surely, she could not. Did she?”

He nodded, laughed, then choked.

Roxanne waited until he got himself together again, wiped his eyes, then said, her own eyes even more narrowed now, “How I wish you'd never asked him anything at all. What prompted you to ask him? Who cares what he thinks? Look at the result. We missed our wall opportunity at midnight because he'd already told you his damnable marriage rule, and you believed he was right, damn both of you.

“And there you were, kissing me until I was mad for you, but you kept saying over and over you wouldn't dishonor me, wouldn't have me naked until our wedding night.”

“Would you believe I suffered more than you did?”

“No.”

“Well, I did, since I knew exactly what I was missing. Do you know, dearest one, I shall congratulate Sophie in the morning for pulling such an amazing stunt on her aunt. However, Roxanne, very soon you will be naked and beautiful, your cheeks all rosy with delight from the pleasure I will give you. Forget making love against the wall at midnight. This is much better. I think our wedding night has been perfect so far, don't you? Come here, Roxanne.”

She frowned down at him, her voice snide. “I assume you know how to continue this business, since you've had simply
scores
of mistresses. That wasn't a lie, was it?”

He grinned, patted the side of the bed. “No more than two score, but you know, I suppose it's possible I could have forgotten how one accomplishes this business in the past four weeks of sainthood. Come here, let's see what happens.”

When she was stretched out beside him, Devlin leaned down, kissed her, and kept kissing her as he stripped her naked. He leaned up and stared down at her. Slowly, his hand cupped her beautiful white breast. His leg moved to press hers apart. “Now you are as naked as I am.
Hmmm,
what is next, I wonder?”

“That feels rather nice. Whatever you're doing, don't stop.”

“I shan't, my darling, I shan't. Ah, look at us, Roxanne. I believe I am the whiter.”

She studied them for a moment, pressed together, then, “No, I am the whiter.”

“No matter, we blend perfectly together, just as I knew we would.”

Roxanne kissed his chin, his nose, his eyebrows. “Thee and me,” she whispered against his mouth. “Have I told you how much I love you, Devlin?”

“Not since this morning, after I kissed you in the church. I believe I told you I loved you more. As we'll blend our whiteness, let's blend our love. Come, let me show you pleasure now.”

I
n the other corner bedchamber of the Shapewick Inn, Julian was grinning down at his new wife. “I cannot believe you told such an outrageous tale to your poor aged aunt. Don't worry, Devlin will make her realize you were pulling both her legs and her arms as well. Seducing me two full days before our wedding? Beware, Roxanne is liable to clout you once she realizes what you did.”

Sophie giggled. “I got her,” she said between giggles. “She was red with rage at me—her little niece—learning things she didn't know
before
she did.”

He was laughing with her until she began kissing him all over his face, her hands stroking over him, his chest, his belly, and lower, until he moaned. Finally, he came over her, stretched out on top of her, pressed her into the soft mattress, and soon she was panting between her kisses. She whispered against his throat, “Tell me again you love me, Prince.”

“I love you, and my four dogs love you.”

“And the unborn pups?”

“Yes, the pups, too.”

She touched her fingertips to his beautiful mouth, his chin, stroked her thumbs over his black eyebrows. “I am the only woman in the world for you. Because you are a smart man, it did not take you all that long to realize it.”

“I did but what my mother wished me to do.”

“And my mother. How I miss her, Prince. If only she had not died, if only—”

“I know, sweetheart. But I have this belief deep inside me that your mother was there in the church with us, and she was happy, Sophie.

“Now, my noble self is brimming with lust that needs to be requited.” And he kissed her, his mouth going down her body as her hand had his. In the next minute, Sophie burst with pleasure, and she screamed with the power of it. She would swear she heard Cletus barking his head off when the prince threw back his head and yelled to the ceiling.

 

EPILOGUE

Julian read the letter from Baron Purley once again.