Lucy looked at
Frances
and smiled. Now the dance was over, the lovely
Frances
was surrounded by young gentlemen, all trying to flirt with her. “I don’t think she minds.”
“I’m going to ask for an interview with her father next week,” said Edward Wenlock.
“Oh I’m so pleased for you.” she replied. “I hope it goes well. Will you want to carry her off soon?”
He smiled. “If she’ll have me. She finds all this – socialising a bit of a strain, you know. I only come up to town because my friends are here, I much prefer the country, so we’re matched very well in that respect.”
“You know – the dowry?”
“I believe she has about ten thousand. It’s enough to reconcile my mother to her. Indeed,” he added, turning from contemplation of his beloved, now dancing with a young buck Lucy remembered from her own court, “I think my mother will love her. She has always condemned the debutantes as shockingly frivolous and empty headed. Christina has excellent sense, and is just the kind of bride my mother always wished me to find.”
Lucy was delighted that Lord Wenlock hadn’t heard of Christina’s ‘enhanced’ dowry. It showed he loved her for her dear self alone, as she knew he didn’t need the money.
However, she did say, “We – Philip and I – have a particular reason that people believe their dowries are enhanced. At least, to create some confusion about them. Can you help us?”
He looked at her with some calculation, but agreed. “It won’t harm the
Carmichaels
, will it?”
“No, I promise,” she said. “It should be easy to correct any misapprehensions later. I can tell you something if you want to know, but not here.”
He looked at her, eyes narrowed in calculation. “Thank you for the offer. However, I think the less I know the better.”
Philip came across the room to take her into supper, and Lucy went with him willingly. There was an elegant supper laid out in one of the side-rooms, and a footman helped her to her choice.
“Lord Wenlock is going to ask for Christina’s hand soon,” she told him.
“Is he? I’m glad, she’s just the girl for him.” Philip said promptly.
“Will his family object to the trade connection?”
“No,” replied Philip firmly. “Especially once they discover exactly how much trade.” They exchanged a look and a smile of perfect understanding.
Sir Geoffrey seemed particularly taken by
Frances
, which surprised several people that evening. He had always been a stickler for birth and breeding, but the fact that the family was trade seemed to pass him by. Several people assumed he knew more than they did, and asked other people who might be expected to know, if Sir Geoffrey was flirting, or could he have a serious purpose in his favour of the new beauty. The replies they received made the ones with unattached sons determined to throw them in the way of the Carmichaels, even the less well favoured Janet. Many declared they preferred the younger Millicent, her beauty paler and less obvious than
Frances
’. By the end of the evening they had received several flattering invitations, and assurances that they would be welcome at the next ‘at home’ they could attend.
Christina was a little puzzled by this, and asked Lucy why these people were being so kind. She could only explain, “You’re new meat, acceptably born for all but the most stuffy, and rich enough to satisfy them. And
Frances
is a beauty. Society likes a beauty to rave about, and there hasn’t been one of
Frances
’ calibre for years.”
Christina looked at her doubtfully but accepted her explanation. “Why does your mother not come?” Lucy asked. “I asked her if she would and she refused.”
“She said she was too old for such things and it gave her some time to herself.”
Lucy could understand that. In that crowded house it must be difficult to get any privacy. “Are you enjoying yourself? I know the others are, but you and Janet?”
“You’ve been very kind to Janet, considering how she betrayed you,” said Christina. Loyalty was very important to her, and Lucy guessed she hadn’t yet forgiven her sister.
“I have what I want,” she said. “And it did me good – forced me to face my mother.”
“She nearly got you back to Sir Geoffrey,” Christina said with a grimace. “I thought of pulling
Frances
away from him, but we’re only just here, thanks to you, and I didn’t want to create a scene.”
“He’s perfectly safe unless you let yourself get too close,” Lucy told her. “And he will add some consequence to you. He’s very well thought of in some circles.”
Christina looked surprised. “You don’t mind? It seems he’s got away with what he did to you scot-free.”
Lucy shrugged. “There are other ways to skin a cat. Wait and see. Do you think Janet still feels the same way about him? She seemed completely dazzled to me.”
“She is,” Christina said grimly. “It’s not something I like to see, but she won’t be persuaded otherwise.”
“You may tell her what he did to me, if you like.” It took something for Lucy to say that. The whole experience was something she dearly wanted to forget, but she still had the dreams. Sometimes Philip would soothe her, make love to her, and sometimes just hold her, but she longed for the dreams to leave her.
“Thank you. That might help.” She touched Lucy’s arm when she felt her quiver with the reminder, and Lucy smiled at her. “It will pass,” she said quietly.
They were so late to bed that night Lucy fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.
***
When she awoke, Philip was asleep with his back to her. She smiled, but didn’t touch him. Waking up with him was a delight, one she knew she had done little to deserve, but she was more glad of it every day. She was only beginning to understand the love he felt for her, and how precious it was. Watching his body rise and fall rhythmically with his breathing, Lucy promised herself she would always do her best to deserve it. She felt unaccustomedly humble.
It seemed strange to be back here as mistress but she could think of few better ways of paying her mother back for what she had done. Lucy had never thought of revenge before, but she knew it was more than that. For her it would be exorcising that dread she felt, and recovering some of what was hers by right.
She determined not to think about it and moved closer to Philip, putting her arm about his waist and snuggling up to his back. He put his hand over hers, and then, eyes still closed, turned over to take her in his arms. When he kissed the top of her head she knew he was waking up. She looked up and smiled. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, my love. Sleep well?”
“After all that wine last night? Oh yes.”
“Good.” He regarded her thoughtfully and then lifted one hand and tugged at the strings of her nightcap. “Why does Curtis insist on parcelling you up like a Christmas present every night?” he said. The nightcap gave way and he tossed it aside. “That’s better.” Then he undid the strings at the top of her night-dress. Nothing loath, Lucy sat up and undid the cuff buttons, drawing it over her head. He watched her with appreciation then drew her back to him. “
Much
better.”
“I don’t like to tell her I sleep – “
“Naked? Why not? I like you to, and if you don’t object – “
“When you put it like that, how can I object?” She lay on her back against the pillows, the better to enjoy his caresses. They began gently, an appreciation of her body and a desire to give her pleasure. He ran the flat of his hand from her hip up to her breast and lingered there, gently stroking it until the nipple crinkled for him. Then he attended to the other one. “I still expect to wake up and find myself alone,” he said in a meditative way, before bending his head to put his mouth to her skin.
Lucy was learning that his touch immediately set her on fire. She had thought it would wear off after a couple of nights, but it wasn’t so. Instead, Philip was discovering what pleased her the most, and had begun to teach her what he liked her to do, which increased the feeling, rather than diminishing it. She had found that ministering to him was as sweet as receiving his attentions, and the discovery both surprised and delighted her.
Lucy loved having her breasts caressed and kissed, and Philip was only too willing to oblige. He lavished attention on them, then kissed her rib cage, and her stomach lower down, stopping in the sensitive area on the inside of the hip bone.
“Oh. Philip, Philip – “
“You want me to stop?” he asked, as innocently as he could. He looked up at her to see her warm smile.
“No. Please my love, don’t stop,” she said.
He had heard her use that phrase before, but only in his dreams. Now he could continue, tucking a hand under that delectable bottom to grip her better when he kissed the most sensitive part of her. Gratified to hear her cry, he carried on kissing and caressing her until he felt her tense, and then stopped, only to hear her moan of protest.
“Oh no, my sweet, not this time,” he said, and reached up to seize a pillow. He put it down in front of him and lifted his wife, turning her over on to her stomach on the pillow. Lucy used her elbows to lift herself a little, but stayed where she was and felt him fit himself inside her.
At once a convulsion racked her body, and Philip caught her hips to hold her steady. Leaning over her he kissed her shoulder blades, her back and was rewarded by her cries of “Oh! Oh Philip, my love.”
He reached his hand forward and cupped her breasts, and then tucked his knees under her and swung them both up to a sitting position. She turned her head for his kiss, and thrust her tongue into his mouth, trying to reach every recess while he was driving deeply into her.
“Sweet wife.” he murmured, and kissed her again. He didn’t relent when she cried out once more, pushing her up to another climax with hard, rhythmic thrusts.
He waited until she relaxed against him, kissed her shoulder, held her close and then withdrew from her, holding her steady for a moment before he turned her on her back and lay her down, her bottom held up by the pillow. Kneeling, he guided himself inside her again, and he watched her flushed features, those blue eyes gazing up at him, suffused with the love he’d always dreamed of, but never expected to see, until very recently.
When she reached for him he caught her hands in his, and then put them on his thighs, so she could feel his efforts to bring her joy. He wasn’t disappointed; it wasn’t long in coming. She arched her back up to push even closer to him, closed her eyes and cried out loudly, and with one last propulsion, Philip drove deep inside her and released his tension in one long stream.
He pulled the pillow away, cast it on the floor and went to her waiting arms.
“How do you do that?” she murmured. “You make me feel so – so fulfilled, so at one with you. I love you Philip.”
He held her close, kissed her mouth and her cheek. “I love you Lucy. That was wonderful.”
She made a sound like ‘mmm’ and kissed him, snuggling in, not yet ready to let him go.
Then there was a knock at the door.
Hastily, he pulled some bedcovers over them and called, “What is it?”
The voice of his valet, muffled, came through to them. “You have a visitor, my lady.”
She took a steadying breath and called back; “Who can’t wait until I’m awake?”
“Lady Royston, my lady.”
“First of all,” she called back. “
I
am Lady Royston. Secondly, I don’t expect anyone to be admitted until I’m up. Tell her I’ll be there in half an hour and offer her some luncheon.”
“Yes, my lady.”
He went away. Philip, who had listened in appreciative silence to the exchange, said; “Well done, my darling.”
She turned in his arms. “It seems I have to get up. I must face her, Philip.”
“Would you like me to come with you?”
“Would you?” she kissed him. “But not immediately. Give me some time alone with her first.”
“I’m yours to command,” he said in mock obedience. The rich voice, full of promise, made her shiver with the remembrance of what they had just done. “Oh no,” she said. “I’m yours. All yours.”
He watched her get up, wrap her robe around her still-flushed body. “Should I go and dress in your room? Or should I ask Curtis to come in here?”
“Come back to bed,” he suggested, not wholly in jest. “Make her wait.”
But he got up. He took her in his arms one last time, kissed her, whispered, “Just you wait until tonight,” in her ear. It made her laugh in embarrassment and excitement. He went through to his own room to dress.
***
Curtis was an extremely efficient ladies’ maid, and she helped Lucy to dress quickly, but without any diminution in the excellence of her work. So it was a little more than half an hour when the new Lady Royston, elegant in dark blue silk, embellished at the hem and the top of the long sleeves by rouleaux of the same material, entered the drawing room. Her mother looked up from the chair she had chosen, but did not rise.
Lucy bent over her and kissed her dry cheek. Then she turned to her aunt, who had risen, and embraced her warmly. “I’m so glad you came.”