Authors: Penny Jordan
The mirror threw back the reflection of her breasts, perfectly teardrop shaped, but now with the larger and stiffer nipples.
An unsatisfied ache pulsed deep inside her, its presence making her feel irritable and yet somehow at the same time also languid. She reached down and ran an investigative fingertip down over her soft dark pubic hair, parting the still swollen lips of her sex. The ache intensified and sharpened. A thrill of excitement suddenly gripped her.
In the privacy of the suite’s bathroom she removed her bathrobe and lay down on the floor, cupping her own breast with one hand whilst the forefinger of the other explored and stroked, its movement quickly accelerating the pulse of the ache inside her body. She was breathing fast and shallowly, her back arched and her legs open.
Yes, that was it, that was the place…Her fingertip moved faster. Emerald closed her eyes, the better to sink deeper into the heat of the scarlet darkness waiting for her, and then to climb out of it, swiftly, so swiftly that its speed took her breath, leaving her only enough to make a small mewling cry of agonised pleasure when the firework display of satisfaction exploded through her.
Emerald eased herself up from the floor of the suite’s bathroom and pulled on her bathrobe, trembling slightly.
Alessandro was still asleep. She felt rather tired herself. Tired but exalted and fiercely proud of the fact that she had been the one to give herself pleasure and, more importantly, take control of it.
She got on the bed and lay down next to Alessandro.
Marriage was going to be fun, especially once she had taught Alessandro how he could make her very, very happy.
‘Send telegrams to our mothers? Why cannot we telephone them?’ Alessandro protested almost pleadingly.
They were in their hotel suite, waiting for the porter to come and collect their luggage ready for the train journey south. Whilst Emerald was glowing with energetic triumph, Alessandro looked tired and on edge. Emerald had woken him in the night to insist that she wanted him to make love to her. Poor Alessandro, she was tiring him out, but then men did not have the endurance that women possessed. At least, though, she had taught Alessandro what she most liked him to do, even if at first he had been shocked and actually embarrassed by the explicitness of her commands.
There was no point in telling him the truth, which was that telegrams sent forewarning their mothers of their marriage would deny Alessandro’s mother in particular the opportunity to be dramatic that a telephone call would give.
‘Telegrams are easier,’ she answered. ‘And besides, your mother might not be there if we did telephone, and then we’d miss the train. Why are you looking like that?’ Emerald went over to him and rubbed her body against his as she held his hand and looked soulfully at him.
‘My mother is going to be very upset. I am her only child, and—’
‘And now you are a married man, and when your mother sees how much you love me she is bound to understand. I know that my mother will.’
The truth was that she didn’t care what her mother thought, though she was secretly delighted at the prospect of confronting her mother with the reality of her
marriage and her new title–a far grander marriage and a far grander title than her mother’s.
‘Mmm.’ Emerald kissed him swiftly. ‘Do cheer up, darling. I don’t want to spend all day shut up in a train carriage with a miserable husband. When we get to Lenchester House—’
‘Lenchester House? But I have a suite of rooms at the Savoy.’
A suite of rooms to which his mother had open and easy access–all very well whilst Alessandro had still been single, but now he had a wife to consider. As far as Emerald was concerned, the sooner Alessandro’s mother recognised the way things were now going to be, the better.
‘A suite of rooms?’ Emerald pouted. ‘But, darling, Lenchester House is my home. It is where I have all my fondest memories of my dear father, and besides,’ she added more practically, ‘all my things are there.’
‘But Lenchester House belongs to Dougie, surely?’
Emerald controlled her impatience and gave Alessandro a sweetly sad smile. ‘It does now, but it has so many happy and special memories for me, Alessandro. Please be kind and understand that I want my happiest memories of all, those of being your bride, your wife, to be made there. It is silly of me to be so sentimental, I know…’
Alessandro had been brought up to understand the importance of sentiment to the female psyche, as Emerald had already discovered, and now his response was every bit as satisfactory as she had planned, an expression of obedience giving his face rather a puppy-dog melancholy.
‘No, it is not silly at all,’ he assured her tenderly. ‘My
mother herself is often vexed by her own vulnerability to her sentiments.’
‘I just know that she and I will understand one another perfectly,’ Emerald told him. ‘Of course we shall have to look for a house of our own in London,’ she continued, having satisfied herself that she had won the first skirmish. Not that Alessandro was much of an opponent.
‘A house in London? But I shall have to return to my country.’
‘Well, of course, but we won’t be living there
all
the time.’ It was so much easier to make things work out the way one wished if one behaved as though they were already an indisputable fact, Emerald had always found. ‘So it makes sense for us to find a house in London first, and then you can show me your little country.’
There was a knock on the door and then the porter came in, bringing an end to any further conversation, not that Emerald minded.
There was one thing she was completely determined on and that was that she was not going to allow Alessandro’s mother to take charge of events and, ultimately, them. They may not as yet have met, but Emerald already knew that she and her mother-in-law were going to be on opposing sides in the fight for Alessandro’s loyalty.
‘You and Alessandro are married?’
Emerald watched coolly as her godmother struggled with her shock.
‘It was very naughty of us, I know, to elope to Gretna, but you mustn’t blame Alessandro, Aunt Beth.’ Emerald gave her new husband a look of adoration as she reached for his hand. ‘He was just so afraid that, with his mother’s cousin being virtually on her deathbed, he would have to go through a whole year of formal mourning before we could be publicly engaged, and then with my mother being away on business…’
Emerald could see her godmother struggling to assess which was the worse scenario: a runaway marriage or no marriage at all.
‘Alessandro desperately wanted to make me his princess,’ Emerald smiled softly. ‘It will be so much fun now that I’m married, holding wonderful parties here in London and on the Côte d’Azur for Lydia and Gwendolyn. I dare say that we shall even have a special ball for them in Lauranto to introduce them to scores of eligible young men.’
Her shrewd move had the desired effect. Emerald could almost see her godmother assessing the benefits to her daughter and niece of having a young married princess as a friend.
‘Well, it is very unorthodox and quite shocking.’
‘But so very romantic, Aunt Beth, although I did feel desperately sad that you and Mummy couldn’t be there. There’ll have to be an announcement of the marriage sent to
The Times
, of course.’ Emerald’s tone became more practical. ‘And there will have to be a proper reception here at Lenchester House. I shall have to rely on you to organise that though, dear Godmother. Mummy is wonderfully clever with all her business things but she doesn’t have your special touch. Do you think we should make it a wedding breakfast or—’
‘No. It will have to be a reception. It’s fortunate that Alessandro is foreign; foreigners are always so much more impetuous about these things,’ her godmother responded automatically to Emerald’s careful shepherding. ‘Where will you be staying?’
‘Why here, of course. I’ve told darling Alessandro that I couldn’t imagine making happy memories for when we’re old anywhere other than here. I can still see Daddy in these rooms, Aunt Beth; I can still hear his voice. Do you know, I think in a way he engineered it so that Alessandro and I would be married the way we were because he knew he wouldn’t be able to give me away and he knew that I couldn’t bear anyone else in the family to do it.’
‘Oh, my dear girl, you are so right. To think of your father watching over you from heaven in such a way.
He was a wonderful man. I knew him before your mother, you know. My mother was his godmother.’
‘I knew you’d understand. Of course, we can’t possibly share my room so I think it would be best if Alessandro and I moved into the suite of rooms that used to be Mummy and Daddy’s.’
Beth’s sentimental tears were momentarily suspended, as she said uncertainly, ‘The master suite, Emerald? Do you think you should? I mean, now that Dougie…well, he is the duke…’ Her voice faltered beneath the reproach in the gaze Emerald fixed on her.
‘It’s what Daddy would have wanted. Dougie won’t mind. After all, he isn’t even like a proper duke really, is he? I mean, he’s
Australian
.’
Dear Emerald, such a strong-willed girl, Beth thought weakly as she allowed her doubts to be swept aside.
‘We should go and see my mother, Emerald, and we can stay tonight at the hotel with her whilst we wait to see if we have permission to stay here.’
Emerald looked at her husband. No way was she going to see her mother-in-law until she was ready. A husband though, as she was quickly discovering, was really very easy to deal with.
She lifted a hand to her forehead and protested faintly, ‘Oh, Alessandro, darling, I am such a silly little thing, I know, but I’ve got the most horrid headache coming on and I can’t possibly meet your mother until I’ve had a chance to rest. She has such high standards, I know, and I want her to see me looking my best. In fact, I really do think that I should go and lie down for a little while. Alessandro, you’ll have to come with me otherwise I will
think that you are cross with me. Besides, I feel so exhausted that I don’t think I could climb the stairs all by myself.’
Once she had satisfied herself that Alessandro was going to do as she wished, Emerald turned her attention back to her godmother, announcing, ‘You will see to it that a notice is sent to
The Times
, won’t you, Aunt Beth? And don’t worry about telling Mrs Wreakin that we’ll be moving into the master suite. I’ll tell her myself.’
‘How are you feeling now, my beloved, only I do really think that we should go and see Mama.’
It was three hours since they had originally gone upstairs, and now they had moved from Emerald’s old room and into the master suite, where Emerald had been persuaded by an anxious Alessandro to eat a little of the light meal that Cook had prepared for them.
‘Well, yes of course, we must,’ Emerald agreed immediately, adding, ‘Oh, Alessandro, I am so looking forward to meeting your mother, who has known and loved you since the minute of your birth. How overjoyed she must have been to have such a beautiful son. I hope in time, darling, that I may be as lucky. You do want a son and heir, don’t you, Alessandro?’
As she spoke, Emerald sat up gracefully in the large bed with its ornate hangings of Denby silk, and let the silk dressing gown she was wearing slide down to her waist, leaving the top half of her body naked.
A smile of triumph curled Emerald’s mouth as she saw the way Alessandro’s eager gaze went to her naked breasts.
‘Mama…’ Alessandro tried to remind her.
But Emerald simply smiled again and sighed, ‘Yes, of
course. Oh, Alessandro, I can’t wait for our son to call me that.’
There was no real contest, of course. It would be tomorrow now before they saw Alessandro’s mother–tomorrow afternoon. Afternoon tea, perhaps, Emerald mused as she lay looking up at the ceiling whilst Alessandro stroked and squeezed her breasts with growing urgency. They could invite her to join them for afternoon tea–so civilised and ladylike–and by then her mother-in-law was bound to have heard about their marriage. It was all working out perfectly.
Emerald made a soft purr of pleasure when she felt Alessandro’s body tremble against her own as he pressed passionate kisses against her breasts. He was really getting rather good at that.
When Dougie returned to Lenchester House several hours later, Emerald’s appropriation of the master suite was a
fait accompli
, and Beth’s hand-wringing embarrassment at having to inform him of it told its own story.
‘She’s married Alessandro? I thought she was supposed to be staying with friends on the Côte d’Azur?’
‘Well, yes, and it was very naughty of her to fib to us all like that, but Alessandro is foreign, and everyone knows that foreign men are so very impetuous.’
Alessandro might be, but Emerald wasn’t. Calculating, manipulative, selfish–she was all
those
things–and wonderfully, dangerously, intoxicatingly able to make him feel as no other girl could. What rubbish! Having a wife like Emerald would be hard work. She would be demanding, capricious, impossible to trust, everything
that was the opposite of the kind of safe comfortable reliable wife he would want when he did get married. Alessandro was welcome to her, Dougie told himself firmly, pushing down those feelings about Emerald that had begun to plague him far more than he liked.
‘Presumably she’s told her parents?’ he asked.
Dougie thought a lot of Amber and Jay, and he hated to think of them being shocked and hurt. Besides, it was safer for him to think of them than to think of Emerald.
‘She said she was going to send them a telegram. They’re still away in America,’ Beth defended her goddaughter.
Lady Beth was no match for Emerald, Dougie acknowledged, but then who was?
Needless to say the whole house was agog with the excitement of it all, and it was naturally the sole subject of discussion over the dinner table.
‘Of course, it was very naughty of them to elope.’
‘It’s disgraceful, and typical of Emerald. I think she enjoys shocking and upsetting people,’ was Gwendolyn’s disapproving contribution to the dinner-table conversation, whilst Lydia, all starry-eyed with heroine worship and excitement, breathed giddily, ‘Well, I think it’s just the most romantic thing ever. Gwendolyn, do you really think that Emerald will invite us to go and stay with her?’