Chapter 16

 

“We’ve arrived.”

The moment after he said that, they swung into a private drive. Charlotte caught a glance of a stuccoed exterior before the carriage blocked her view and she had to wait to see it properly. When she did, she caught her breath in delight.

“This is exactly the kind of house I always wanted.”

The white stucco covered a house of moderate proportions. Not a huge palace of a place or a rambling Tudor edifice, but a pilastered building of three or four stories with a Palladian-columned portico. “What is its name?”

“I shall call it Charlotte’s Villa.”

“Val! Be serious.”

He laughed. “Why should I? Life would be tedious without a little levity. It’s currently called Verdant Place, which seems a foolish name, but I like it.”

“Did you inherit it?”

“No,” he said, as the footman opened the door and let down the steps. “I bought it.”

Her eyes rounded as she turned to him instead of drinking in the house’s facade. “You did?”

His chuckle warmed her. “I see more questions. What a curious woman you are, sweetheart.”

Disdaining the steps, he leaped to the ground and helped her to descend. They stood, her hand tucked in his, and studied the house. It would have six or eight bedrooms, something of that nature, perfect for her. The grounds were well-clipped lawns, with an edging of late spring flowers. She tested the grass with the tip of her foot. “Do you plan to live here year round?”

“That is up to you as well as me.” He watched her, still smiling.

She liked his smile, especially when there was no trace of cynicism about it. He appeared entirely enchanted.

“I have another house in Leicestershire, and I spend a lot of time at the family seat, too.” He tugged her hand. “Come. Let me show you inside.”

Four columns set in a square held up the pleasant hall, and a staircase wound its way upstairs. A butler stood just inside the door and bowed low first to her and then to Val. “My lord, I have made everything ready, as you requested. Would you care for refreshment?”

Val glanced at her. “Our journey was hardly arduous.” At Charlotte’s slight headshake, he said, “Not now, thank you, Bunson. Leave us to find our way around. I’m anxious for my wife to see the house.”

With every room, Charlotte declared herself pleased. The house was delightful. “Anything less like a mausoleum is hard to imagine,” she said as they left the music room upstairs and walked to the rooms at the end of the sunny corridor.

“Have you visited many mausoleums?” He paused, his hand on a doorknob.

“I have lived in them for most of my life.”

He opened the door. “Your father’s houses?”

“Yes. He prefers everything placed precisely in its place. After we finished with our embroidery, or whatever we were doing, we had to take care that no trace of our activity remained when we had done. Every thread must be picked up and the work box arranged properly.”

He paled. “Dear Lord, I would never have survived. None of my family would.”

She had walked into the room watching him, not the contents. While the house delighted her, having Val all to herself delighted her even more. Every chance she had, she’d drunk him in, his shape, his height, and the way he talked to her alone. “We had to survive. We had no other choice. Until Sarah met Sam, and even then it took her two years to come back for us.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

He gave an awkward laugh, not one she had heard before from the assured urbane Val. “For not asking sooner about your personal circumstances. For taking too much for granted. You are a brave woman. Your father could not have been easy to live with. I knew he insisted on formality all the time, but not that it extended so deeply into the private part of your life.”

Suddenly shy, she looked away. “I may disappoint you. I know no other way.” It choked her to have to admit it, but it was better he knew. “There is nothing more to me. I am as you see.”

They were in a bedroom and she was staring at the bed. The gold-colored drapery enhanced rather than hid the softness of the mattress and the silkiness of the cover. No heraldic beasts proclaimed his lineage in the head of the bed, no proud portraits of ancestors hung on the walls watching every move she made. Instead, landscapes and a conversation piece, a painting of his family decorated the Chinese paper on the walls. The tallboy and the cabinets shone with polishing and a touch of gilt, just enough to catch the sun, gleaming when she moved her head.

“Is this…?” She could say no more. The room she had considered spacious seemed to draw in, stifling her.

“It is. If you wish it,” he said. “I took this room for my own because of the view.”

She hadn’t even noticed the view, but when she followed his gaze, she choked back an involuntary cry of delight. The large sash windows looked out over a swath of lawn and flower beds. Beyond them was the river. The Thames flowed along in majestic glory. A swan sailed graciously over the greenish gray water. “It’s perfect.”

Impulsively, she turned around, but he was standing directly behind her. He caught her in his arms and gazed down at her, laughing. “Indeed you are,” he said, and bent to her lips.

Every time he kissed her, he took her into his own world, made her helpless to resist. She opened her mouth to him when he touched her chin, and he took possession. Here, now, wrapped in him, she could not imagine anything else half so good.

He broke away, gazing down at her, his eyes hot and wild. “I have to stop. I’m in danger of losing my resolve.”

“What resolve?” She’d lost hers half a minute ago.

“I meant to ensure you ate and rested before I fell on you.”

The phrase amused her. “Fell on me?”

“Like a rutting stag.” He growled the words against her mouth.

His clarification forced a laugh out of her. “I imagine you have more finesse than that. You do have a reputation as a magnificent lover.”

“You’ve been listening to gossip.”

“I’ve been listening to Lady Cresswell.”

He gave a slight shake of his head. “That was a mistake.” He clamped his mouth shut.

She waited.

“What?” he demanded eventually. “You want to discuss my past lovers with me?”

It was her turn to shake her head. She couldn’t think of anything she wanted less. “Only your future ones.” She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know about those, either, but better she found out from him than from ballroom gossip. When that happened, she would cope. She had to.

“You will, I promise.” He was smiling.

Charlotte didn’t want to talk about that now. Not on her wedding day. Neither, it seemed did he, for he released her. She moved closer, wouldn’t let him retreat. “Fall on me, husband. I want everything you have.”

“No, no, you don’t.”

If she had to wait any longer, the stress would kill her. But how did a woman seduce a man? She’d read about it, seen flirtatious behavior, although she’d never taken part in that herself. Her father would have punished her for behaving like a wanton, even though half society did so. So she had an idea, but the thought of initiating a seduction filled her with terror.

And something else, she discovered to her surprise. A challenge, like a duel between lovers. Desire rose in her, tensed her muscles, increased her sensitivity. She wanted this and she wanted it now.

Lifting her hands to her neck, she pulled out the fine kerchief and tossed it away. “I’m not sure I have a maid here.”

“I engaged one for you.” A smile in his eyes, he watched her.

He must know what she was about. Would he think her poor efforts funny rather than arousing? She would have to learn if she wanted to keep him.

Daring his derision, she persisted, unhooking the front of her gown from her stomacher. Intent on her work, she did not look up until she’d completed the task.

A flush had risen to his cheekbones, and his eyes were the most intense blue she had seen them. The color of aquamarines, they displayed all his emotions, when he allowed it. He was allowing it now. “Who would have thought I’d be so instantly aroused by a virgin removing her gown?” He spoke with wonder in his voice. “But I cannot deny it. Are you sure you want this now, sweetheart?”

“Perfectly sure.”

“Is this in the spirit of getting it over with?”

She nodded before she could stop herself. “I don’t know.” For a second she let her uncertainty show, and then she smoothly covered it up. “I want you.”

With a soft groan, he stepped forward and reclaimed her. “I meant to do this properly, to share a meal with you, and let you come here and prepare yourself.”

“Like a virgin sacrificed to the beastly dragon?”

“Andromeda lashed to the rock,” he said with a smile. “But perhaps this is better. Besides, I’ve been waiting for this for a long time. A long time for me, that is.”

She would accept that today. Perhaps later, she wouldn’t allow it, because he had certainly taken little notice of her for the first two years. He had acknowledged that himself. “Not as long as I have.”

He curved his large hand around her cheek, making her feel vulnerable and cherished at the same time. Gazing into her eyes, he touched her, stroked her from waist to arm and back again. He pushed his hand under her gown and eased it away. Now she had unhooked it, he could ease it off her shoulders. She let it go, dropped her arms so the fine silk slid off her shoulders. She would have liked to let it fall to the ground in a fine, dramatic flourish, but unfortunately her maid had tacked triple ruffles to it, and she had to give them a tug to ease the sleeves away.

He took hold of the gown at the top, near where her robings ended, and pushed, helping her rid herself of the gorgeous garment. It slid away, the whoosh of the silk echoing the rush of blood that made her stomach swoop and her senses heighten. With nothing to hold it in place, her stomacher followed, leaving her in petticoat and undergarments.

His comprehensive visual sweep was frank and heated. “I want you naked. Totally, completely stripped.” Quickly, he shrugged off his coat and reached up to his neck, pulling the pearl pin away from his neckcloth and unraveling the length of fine starched linen.

The sight of his throat struck her as deeply intimate. She had never seen it before, but she’d felt it under her fingers when they’d kissed. A couple of buttons and loops fastened his shirt. Watching her, he pulled it undone, not bothering to unfasten it properly but tugging until the loops snapped. The front placket gaped open. He reached for her. “Your turn.”

He made short work of her petticoat and then her side hoops. Charlotte felt more vulnerable, as if her armor had gone.

“Turn around,” he said.

She did so, pirouetting like an automaton, jerky and unsure. Lowering her head she watched her stays as he untied the knot at her waist and loosened the cords. At his command of “Up,” she lifted her arms and he pulled it over her head. It stuck on the bun in her hair, but she worked her head from side to side, and it came away. So did many of her hairpins.

Strands of hair drifted down, brushing the nape of her neck, sending shivers through her oversensitive body. While she was standing with her back to him, he undid the cords holding up her remaining petticoats and her pockets. He pushed everything away.

“I can see you,” he said. “Your skin glows.” He touched her, so lightly she nearly missed it, but she was attuned to him now. A finger brushed down the length of her spine through her shift. “You’re so lovely.”

Gently, he turned her with a touch to her waist. “You still want this?”

“Don’t ask.” She paused, surprised by the sultry tone in her voice. That had never happened before. “Just do it.”

“It doesn’t work that way. You have to be with me.” Lifting his hand away from her waist, he circled a nipple with the tip of his finger, laughing softly when she shivered. “You’re beautifully responsive, sweetheart.”

In a swift move that made her gasp, he swept her shift up and over her head, pulling her arms back up. He paused while the garment was still wrapped around her. “Oh, you are so lovely.”

He finished discarding her last garment he bent and lifted her, carrying her to the bed. Holding her with one arm, he dragged the covers down and laid her tenderly on the sheets. When she bent to deal with her shoes and to stop him gazing at her with such hunger, giving herself a moment to try to compose herself, he pushed her back down.

“Let me.” He nimbly unfastened the buckles and let her satin shoes drop to the floor with two thumps, one and then the other. Her garters and stockings were equally cavalierly dealt with.

She was naked.

He stood, staring down at her, the hunger in his eyes deepening. Bending over her, he pressed a kiss to her lips, but straightened. “Do not cover yourself. I want to look at you.”

When he fumbled with the buttons on his waistcoat, she smiled, but he disconcerted her by saying, “You are my downfall, sweetheart. Completely and utterly.”

How could she huddle under the sheet when he said that? The mirror on the dressing table reflected her torso when he moved away to drop his waistcoat on a nearby chair. Hastily, she looked away. She needed no reminder. Her skin prickled with the knowledge. Val was undressing as quickly as possible.

When his upper half emerged from the folds of his shirt, she caught her breath at the sight. She had not realized Val was so powerful. Fashionable clothes were designed to display the peacock male, but Val could have shown to advantage as a prizefighter. His shoulders and upper arms bulged with muscle, and his chest heaved when he took a deep breath. After his shoes, he disposed with the rest of his clothes in short order, shoving them away, careless of where the fine fabrics fell.

She cared even less. Her gaze fell to his groin, and the length of his erection, the head tight and shiny.

“Look your fill,” he purred, putting one knee on the bed. He took his shaft in his hand, curling his strong fingers around the column. “This is yours, as is the rest of me. Claim it, my sweet.”

How was she to do that? With a deep gulp, she opened her legs.

“Oh, yes. Kiss me, sweetheart.”

He moved on to the bed and over her, prowling like an animal tracking its prey. And like a rabbit held still by a fox, she lay there, waiting for him. When he kissed her, he rolled his body over hers, propping himself up on his arms so she felt him but did not take his weight. His shaft kissed her belly, leaving a damp mark of possession.

Charlotte had never seen a man’s naked body before, and now she was feeling one, so close to her that if she breathed she would touch him. When he bent to take her mouth, her nipples brushed against the firm muscles of his chest.

He groaned deeply, the sound vibrating against her body. Her response was electrifying, her body knowing what to do, even if she did not.

Her husband kissed her lips, followed to her throat, where he’d kissed her before and made her shudder, down over the upper slope of her breast, and farther. He licked her nipple and she yelped, startled at the intensity of her response.

“Val…?”

“Lie back, sweetheart, let me do this. Let me taste you. I’ll take care of you.”

“Is it always like this?”

He chuckled, his lips against her skin. “No.” But he didn’t elaborate further, only continued to kiss and lick her breasts, gently sucking at the tips, driving her arousal to near unbearable levels. Spikes of need tormented her, but so deliciously, she never wanted them to end.

He continued down, exploring with mouth and tongue. Shocked, she lay back as he’d told her to. What was she supposed to do now? Her sigh and moan seemed to work for him, when he growled against the soft skin of her belly, and then—then he touched her.

Opening her folds gently, he slid a finger between them, sliding them over a part of her that responded instantly with sharp arrows spiking through her innermost being. She jerked up as if he’d slapped her instead of treating her with care. What would that feel like? Her mind skittered in different directions, trying to find references, collecting the sparse bits of knowledge she had about what he would do next.

He slid his finger down until he breached her, but only with the very tip. Charlotte lay back, afraid to move. “Is that it?” she managed to ask.

“Is that what?”

“Where—what…?” Tongue-tied, she couldn’t vocalize what she meant.

Removing his finger, he came back up the bed to face her, his arms either side of her head, boxing her in. She had nowhere to look but at him. “How much do you know?” he asked her.

“About this?” She swallowed, nervousness tightening her throat. “Not a great deal.”

“How did you remain so innocent?” When she would have turned her head, he kissed her forehead. “No, sweetheart, look at me.” His shaft pressed against her belly, hot and demanding, but he ignored it and kept completely still. “I thought you’d have known something. When I undressed you I was pleased with your reaction, but I am not a man who appreciates too much maidenly modesty. Mainly because I have never encountered it before this day. Women pretend, you know, but your response is sincere. Are you ready for this? Truly?”

She had to tell him the truth. “If you stop, I don’t know if I’ll have the courage to let you back.” It would be a rejection, one of many in her life, but this would hurt more than any other. “Don’t stop, please, Val.”

He let out a long breath, as if her response meant everything to him. “I’m not sure I could, but I don’t want to behave like a brute.” He kissed her again, as if gathering strength from her. “I’ve never known this before. We’re going into this together, sweetheart. Shall we treat this as our new adventure?”

She liked that. Tentatively she slid her hands over his shoulders, feeling his power for herself.

“Hold on to me, lovely woman. Let’s take this to its inevitable conclusion.”

Rising up, he took his shaft in his hand once more, his knuckles brushing against her skin. He guided it to where he had put his finger. It felt surprisingly good, notching into her crease like an arrow into its bowstring.

Charlotte did as he bade her, held on and watched him, gathering strength from the care in his eyes, the furrows between his brows.

He pushed, but all she felt was tension. He tried again, and something gave, just slightly. He was inside her, a giant protrusion entering her untried body. It did not feel pleasant. Perhaps that was why wives were often happy to let their husbands stray.

“Dearest?”

“What?” Pulled from her speculation, she met his gaze.

“This first time might not be entirely pleasant for you, but I’ll try to show you something of what is to come. I will give you joy, Charlotte, I swear it.”

When he said it, she believed him. She’d given way before, letting her body sink into the soft mattress. He pushed into her, gently at first, but she was learning what to do. When he thrust for the third time, she dug her heels in. Bracing herself, she pushed back.

A sharp pain pierced her, and he surged into her, invading her. Now she knew why they called it a taking, because he took her, claimed her as his.

Her cry broke the peace of the room, but Val didn’t hush her. Relentlessly he drove deep and didn’t stop until he was fully embedded inside her. Then he stopped.

They watched one another, learning their intimacy.

He pulled back, but her body gripped him, unwilling to let him go.

“Pull up your knees,” he murmured.

She slid her heels up the bed, tucking them into his thighs and letting her knees fall open. He was right. The sense of tightness eased, and when he pulled out this time, he slid nearly all the way back in with ease.

As she was wondering if that was all, he thrust back in. She moaned, the sound taking her by surprise. “There’s more?”

“Much more. Oh, sweetheart, so much more.” His voice shook, but his movements were steady as he drew out and then back in.

A spot inside her responded, sending waves of pleasure through her. “Oh!”

He smiled. “That’s it. Feel it. Watch me, don’t close your eyes. I want to know what you’re feeling.”

“I want that too.” Shyly, she opened her eyes.

His thrusts, at first gentle, grew deeper as her body eased, accepting him. Pleasure rippled through her with every stroke, increasing in intensity. Charlotte clutched him, digging her fingers into the firm flesh at the back of his shoulders, pulling him, urging him to carry on.

They were going somewhere, but she didn’t know where or how, except she had to put all her trust in him. He would take her there and ensure no harm came to her. He would keep her safe.

Except she wasn’t sure she wanted to be safe.

A streak of wild adventure, unsuspected, burst free. Hungrily, desperate for more, to know what happened next, she held on as his thrusts grew harder and faster.

A pause that lasted both a lifetime and no time at all made her catch her breath.

Then everything broke free, and she threw back her head and screamed as thrills racked her body, rippling up and through every part of her. Her body clenched, pulsing around his in hard, wrenching spasms.

He cried her name and clenched his teeth, gazing at her with stark intensity as his shaft pulsed inside her, pushing her back up the mountain she had just tipped over.