Read The Duke's Reform Online

Authors: Fenella J Miller

The Duke's Reform (6 page)

      She left one
candle burning on the mantelshelf and curled up in a comfortable chair, tucking
her feet beneath her nightgown and bed robe. She attempted to immerse herself
in her gothic romance. She was almost asleep, the candle burnt out, the only
light from the fire, when the communicating door between her room and his began
to move.

      Her eyes flew
open. She shrunk back against the seat.
Please God, not now, let me have one
more night before I've to suffer.
He edged into the room carrying an
enormous tray from which appetizing aromas floated.

      'Stay where you
are, little one, I shall put this down and fetch the rest.' He placed the tray
on the carpet in front of the fire and quickly lit two candlesticks. With no
more than a friendly smile he vanished back from whence he came.

      How
extraordinary! The sight of all the food made her mouth water. She had not
eaten for more than twenty four hours and her stomach gurgled. Surely there
could not be more food coming? There was enough on that one tray to feed a
dozen people.

      He reappeared
with a second tray upon which
was
a silver jug and two
silver goblets, plus a second jug of lemonade. 'I thought we could share a loving
cup, sweetheart, but not until you have eaten. Mulled wine on an empty stomach
would make you feel decidedly unwell.'

      'I love mulled
wine; we always have it at Christmas.' Forgetting she was in her nightwear, not
even slippers on her feet, she knelt down and pushed the poker into the centre
of the blaze. 'This will soon heat up. I should like some lemonade to be going
on with. Shall I help myself to food?'

      He waved her
back to her chair, his expression tender. 'This is my
surprise,
allow me to be your servant tonight.'

      She devoured a
substantial portion of the laden tray before she was replete. 'I feel so much
better now. I'm relieved that you joined me in this midnight feast. Can I have
some wine now?'

      His chuckle made
her feel even more relaxed. He was different, his austerity and coldness gone.
In the intimacy of her bedchamber he had become the man she'd dreamed about.
The sweet smell of spices filled the room as he plunged the poker into the jug.
He filled both goblets then handed one to her, raising the other in salute.

     
'To us, my love.
May the rest of our lives be spent in
happiness and
harmony.
'

'To us.'
She swallowed and the delicious
concoction filled her with warmth and a strange excitement. That odd darkness
she'd observed before was apparent in his eyes. Hastily she broke the
connection and drank some more mulled wine,
then
the
vessel was pried from her fingers.

      'Enough, Isobel,
you're not used to alcohol. Come and sit with me, there are matters I need to
discuss with you.'

      Not waiting for
her to move he scooped her up and, before she could protest, she was resting in
his lap. It was pleasant to be held— she had not felt the protection of
another's arms since the nursery. She closed her eyes and didn't flinch when
his arms encircled her.

      'Would you do
something for me?'

Sleepily she gazed up at him; his
smile made something most peculiar curl through her nether regions. 'What is it
you want, my lord?'

      'Firstly, when we
are alone, I wish you to use my given name— Alexander. I shall call you
Isobel.' This did not seem unreasonable. She nodded
andclosed
her eyes again. 'Secondly, sweetheart, allow me to release your hair. Ever
since I saw you waiting in the line at your ball I've dreamt of running my
fingers through it. I insist you must never have it cut short whatever the
prevailing fashions might dictate.'

      She was too
fatigued to protest. She raised her head allowing him access to her braid; if
he wished to see it loose then he must release it himself. His fingers were
deft, seconds later she was enveloped in her hair. He gently propelled her
forwards and began to draw his fingers through her locks from temples to neck.

      Why should such
a simple thing be sending shockwaves up and down her spine? An unusual
restlessness was building in the very core of her being. Something made her
wish to twist in his arms so that she could see his face and when she did so
there was that familiar hardness pressing against her bottom. Instantly her
fear returned and she tried to scramble from his lap.

      'Darling girl,
you must not be scared of me. Whatever you have been told about what takes
place between a man and a woman has obviously frightened you. I promise you I
would never hurt you. It’s my duty to protect and care for you for the rest of
your life.'

      His words were
soothing— his hands were stroking her hair, her face, her shoulders, easing out
the tension and the fear. She couldn't tell him why she was afraid, but he
would not lie to her— she trusted him. His fingers buried themselves in the
hair and tilted her head. His lips brushed hers sending spirals of pleasure
around her overheated limbs.

      'Trust me,
darling,
let me show you what it is to be loved. There's
nothing to fear, what we're doing is a natural thing for a man and a woman are
meant to be conjoined in this way.'

      Her arms
encircled his neck. She wished to have his lips pressing on hers, for his hands
to continue to work their power, stroking and caressing her shoulders and neck.
His mouth engulfed hers. His tongue demanded entry and her lips parted to let
him in. She was lost in a place she hadn't known existed, her body no longer
her own.

      When he stood,
holding her close, and moved smoothly towards the bed, she made no protest.
Gently he slid her down his chest until her bare feet were on the carpet.

      'I can't make
love to you until you're free of these unnecessary items.'

      She was
mesmerized— could not have moved even if the house had caught fire. The ribbons
at the neck of her garments were untied. He pushed the cotton over her
shoulders and she was naked before him. Every inch of her was burning. Her
breasts tingled and she wanted something from him but was not sure what it was.

      Her legs gave
way and she fell backwards onto the sheets. With one swift movement he tore off
his bed-robe and stood before her as naked as she. Her eyes widened, she had
not expected this. Before she could prevent it her glance dropped to his stomach—
what she saw doused her flames as effectively as a bucket of cold water. Her
fears returned and she rolled away attempting to hide herself in the covers.

      She cringed from
him but he gathered her close and kissed her softly. His hand moved from her
face, down to her breast, caressing and smoothing, and the heat inside her
returned. His lips trailed fire from her neck to her breast. His tongue circled
her nipple sending spirals of pleasure from head to toe. As his mouth turned to
give the same attention to her other breast his fingers traced the outline of
her stomach and slid between her thighs.

      She gasped in
shock as they entered her most private place and began a magical dance that
left her writhing in pleasure. She pressed against his hand wanting more,
something else— she was burning up and only he could quench the fire. He rolled
on top of her and gently nudged her legs apart then she forgot her fears as his
mouth covered hers.

      As he plunged
his tongue inside
he
raised his hips and drove
forward. Somehow her body

accommodated
him. There was a sharp pain and she
stiffened. He paused and when she relaxed he continued his thrusting. An
exquisite pressure, that was almost pain,
centred
on
the place they were conjoined. With each surge she rose to meet him. She found
release as waves of ecstasy engulfed her. She cried out his name— seconds later
he groaned and expelled his seed inside her.

      Still intimately
linked he crushed her close and rolled sideways taking her with him. She

couldn't
speak, could scarcely breathe. How
could she have been afraid of something so

amazing
?

'My darling, I hope I didn't hurt
you. It is always so the first time.'

'The small pain was worth it, my
love. I had never imagined anything so wonderful could take place between us. I
can't understand why Mama and Aunt Laura didn't tell me how it would be.'

He laughed and smoothed back her
hair. 'They did not tell you, sweetheart, because not

everyone
experiences what you did.'

Surprised and intrigued by his answer
she tried to wriggle away from him in order to

converse
in a more seemly way. His arm
around her hips prevented her. 'Surely the process is the same for everyone?'
His answer was to kiss her. She responded willingly and forgot all about her
question.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Five

 

When Isobel woke she was alone, the trays had
vanished and she might almost have thought she'd imagined the whole thing apart
from a delicious ache between her legs which told her she was no longer a
girl—but a woman.

      Today was her
wedding day, she had never been so happy in her whole life. To be marrying the
man she loved, who had shown her by his actions last night that he felt the
same way, was something to celebrate.

      The sound of
water being poured into her bath meant it was already late. Where was Mary? It
was usual for her
abigail
to be there with her morning
chocolate long before this. Isobel leapt out of bed shocked to see the
tell-tale blood stain on the sheets. She had pre-empted her wedding night, her
relatives would be scandalized, but she didn't care.

      Alexander had
come to her because he knew how scared she was. By making love to her last
night he’d demonstrated his care for her. She was the luckiest girl in England,
and in two short hours she would be his wife— nothing could spoil her joy in
the day.

      Impatiently she
rang the bell that stood beside the bed. Mary could remove the evidence and
keep it out of sight until tomorrow; with luck her secret would remain just
that. The dressing room door opened and a strange young woman came in. She had
pinched features and sharp knowing eyes.

      'You rang, my
lady? I've your bath ready; his grace said you would not be requiring breakfast
this morning.'

      'Where is my
abigail? I don't wish to be attended by strangers this morning.'

      The woman
curtsied stiffly, her lips curled but the smile did not reach her eyes.
'Watkins left here first thing with the luggage. I'm now your personal maid.
His grace appointed me himself to take care of you in future.'

      Isobel turned
away too upset to remonstrate with this supercilious intruder. Had everything
they'd shared last night meant nothing? The man she thought Alexander to be
would not have dismissed Mary without speaking to her first. He had sent away the
only familiar face in this barracks of a building. She was to be alone with him
and was no longer sure of his feelings.

      In frosty
silence she allowed this unwanted woman to help her dress. Her joy in the day
had gone. She couldn't bear to think Mary thought this was her decision. This
would mean Mary's husband Sam, who was her personal groom, would have gone as
well.

      As soon as the
last pin was pushed into her hair she stalked from the room and along the wide
passageway. She could hear the church bells ringing. Newcomb had its own place
of worship in the grounds and she was to be married there.

      Her parents were
waiting for her in the vast entrance hall. There
was no sign
of her other relatives
. Their presence would have alleviated the tension,
lifted her spirits just a little. 'Mama, Papa, did you know Rochester has
dismissed Mary? She's gone without even the opportunity to say goodbye, and
after all she's been to me these past years.'

      'Isobel, we had no
idea she was not to remain here. These things are no longer under our control;
you must abide by your husband's decisions in future. I'm sure you'll soon come
to appreciate the superior woman he has appointed for you.'

      ‘I haven’t
bothered to ask her name for she's a stiff and unpleasant person, I shall
insist that she is dismissed, but not today. In a week or two I shall ask my
husband to reinstate Mary and Sam as a
favour
to me.'

      Her father
scowled at her as if she had no right to
criticise
the
man who'd given him a fortune in exchange for his daughter. 'I wish to hear no
more of your complaints, miss. You’re tardy and Rochester has been awaiting
your appearance in the church for five minutes already.'

      He offered his arm
and she had no recourse but to take it. Before she had time to think she was
being marched firmly down the aisle and was standing beside her future husband.
She felt a wave of despair when he turned to glance at her. This was not the
Alexander who had made love to her so passionately— this was the autocratic man
she'd hoped never to see again.

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