Page 9 of 21 Days with the Lyon

Day Twenty-One

T heo had managed to acquire a special license. Lord Featherswallow had provided the funds and used his influence to make sure Theo found an audience at Doctors’ Commons, where the archbishop had barely listened to Theo’s story before giving him the requisite documents. Theo had given him the payment first, as the viscount had instructed, so that might have had something to do with the clergyman’s willingness to cooperate.

Theo returned the night before but had been barred from seeing Bianca by her sister, who was now back at Godwin Priory. “It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding,” the elder Miss Featherswallow had told him.

“The wedding isn’t until tomorrow.”

Kitty smiled—actually smiled! Theo blinked at the sight, wondering what could have possibly happened to soften her harsh demeanor. Was she merely overjoyed for her sister’s impending nuptials?

“Off with you now, Mr. Filliol. You will see her tomorrow morning.”

Theo had retreated to his chamber to wait until dawn the next day. Fortunately, the day looked to be a fine one—blue skies, a warm breeze, and birdsong greeted him when he stepped out of the house. The viscount had a coach waiting for him, and he rode alone to the church in the nearby village. He wished he’d had time to write to his father. Of course, the earl might have simply thrown the letter in the fire. Theo would take Bianca to meet him when she was fully healed. She’d help him smooth things over with his family so he might make amends.

He stepped out of the coach and was greeted by the vicar, who had been waiting for him, looking anxious. Theo handed over the license and, while the vicar examined it, stepped inside the stone church. The vestibule was cool and dark, and he almost didn’t see the figure standing in the corner.

Then the man stepped forward. “Good morning, son.”

Theo didn’t quite believe what he was seeing. But then the man pulled him into his arms, the familiar scents of tobacco and bergamot surrounded him, and Theo knew this was truly his father. “Papa, I… How did you know?”

“Your betrothed wrote to me. Thank God she did, else I would have missed my own son’s wedding.” He released Theo and held him by the shoulders, looking him in the eye. “You and I need to talk, but that can wait. Today we’ll forget our differences and celebrate the union of our families.”

Theo nodded. “Thank you. Thank you for coming. I’m sorry for—”

“There’s time for apologies—mine and yours.” His father put his arm about Theo’s shoulders, and it felt so good to have him there. Theo hadn’t realized how alone he’d felt and how much he needed family at his side.

The earl led him into the narthex. “Tell me about this Bianca Featherswallow. From her letter, I gather she is not only a reasonable woman but a clever one as well.”

“She’s all of those things, not to mention kind, beautiful, a bit stubborn.”

“She’ll need to be if she’s to hold her own with you.”

They stepped into the nave, and a woman dressed in pale blue rose. “Theo!”

“Mama!”

The earl patted Theo on the back and released him to embrace his mother. “You came,” he said, after kissing both of her cheeks.

“I wouldn’t miss this. I only wish we had more notice so I might have gathered your brothers and sisters as well.”

“It means everything to have the both of you here.”

The vicar moved to the altar and cleared his throat. “Sir, if you would join me, I believe your betrothed has arrived.”

Theo gave his parents a panicked look, but his mother smiled and squeezed his hand, and his father nodded with pride. Theo blew out a breath and joined the vicar at the front of the church. Some of the staff from Godwin Priory filed in—Dickson, Mrs. Port, Crosby, and Mr. Tyler with Astra on a lead. Finally, the vicar asked everyone to be seated. The door opened and Kitty entered, wearing a pale blush dress and holding a basket of flower petals. She dropped them as she walked, making a petal-strewn carpet for her sister. She stood beside the front pew, and then everyone else rose as the door opened again and Bianca and her father stepped into the nave.

Theo was unable to manage a full breath. Bianca was dressed in pale yellow with a bouquet of daffodils in her hand. A shawl about her shoulders had been draped over her broken arm to hide the binding. Her dark hair flowed down in glossy curls, and she wore a crown of yellow roses in her hair. She looked like some sort of garden fairy when she smiled at him with an impish look. Her gaze cut to his parents as though to say, Do you see what I did ?

He smiled and nodded his thanks, then reached out for her hands as the viscount placed hers in his.

Theo didn’t remember much more of the ceremony or the breakfast. He wasn’t able to look away from his wife’s beautiful face. He barely took his gaze from hers when Mr. Peters, the neighbor, caused some sort of commotion with Kitty; when Astra knocked over a table of pies and tried to scarf them down; when his parents gave him a gift of several thousand pounds to “see him settled” before taking their leave. All Theo knew was that he’d closed the door to Bianca’s chamber, locked it, and they were alone.

He leaned against the door, letting the tension and excitement of the day fall off him. Bianca shed her shawl and stepped out of her slippers. Immediately, Theo was concerned for her. Perhaps the events of the day were too much so soon this early in her recovery. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Excellent. You?”

“You’re not tired?”

“Not at all. I feel as though I’ve slept more this past week than I do in a year.” She walked toward him. “Are you tired?”

He shook his head. He couldn’t look away from her—the way her hair swung as she walked, the sway of her hips, the playful smile on her lips. “Thank you,” he said.

She paused before him and raised her brows. “For writing to your parents?”

“Yes. I don’t think they would have opened the letter had I written.”

She reached out and loosened the knot of his cravat. “Yes, they would have. Couldn’t you tell they’d been worried about you? They only cut you off as a last resort and because they love you.” She tugged at the cloth, freeing it and tossing it on the floor.

“They love you ,” he said. “My mother adores you, and my father is notoriously stingy. I think he would have preferred to give you the wedding gift.”

She unfastened the top button of his shirt. “We don’t need the money. You know I have an obscenely large dowry.”

“Then perhaps we might donate it.”

She finished with the buttons of his shirt and started on his waistcoat. “Excellent idea. Which charity?”

“What if we started a charity in Ralph St. James’s name? A charity for children of fallen soldiers in the war.”

She smiled. “I agree wholeheartedly. I cannot think of a better way to honor your friend and his son. Now I want to say thank you to you.”

“For?”

“Marrying me. Will you take your coat off, or must I do everything?”

Theo pulled his tight-fitting coat off then removed his waistcoat. “I should be thanking you for marrying me .”

“We should probably both thank Mrs. Dove-Lyon.”

“Oh, I think your father’s check to cover my losses and her matchmaking fee will be thanks enough. Come here.” He slid an arm about her waist and pulled her gently to him. “I have been waiting to do this all morning.” He brushed his lips over hers then moaned softly when she wrapped her good arm about his neck and pulled him closer for a more thorough kiss. He came up breathless and tried to slow his thundering heart. “You’re still injured, Bianca. Perhaps we should wait—”

“Oh, no.” She shook her head. “After what you showed me in the library that night, all I’ve been thinking about is how we might do that again.”

He grinned. “You liked that?”

“Very much. I’ve also been wondering what you look like without that shirt on.” Her cheeks colored, indicating she was a little shy at having admitted this, but she pressed onward. “Kitty says once a lady is married, she may see her husband unclothed.”

“Did she mention that goes both ways?”

Her cheeks turned a brighter shade of pink. “No, but I assumed as much.”

Theo reached for the cuffs of his sleeves, unfastened the links, then tugged the material out of his breeches. He pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor.

Bianca’s gaze traveled over him, making his breath come short with need. She reached out, her fingers hovering over the scar on his shoulder from the sword wound. “Is this where you were injured in Spain?”

“Yes. It’s healed now.” She nodded, her fingers still a few inches from him. He wanted her to touch him. Wanted it desperately. “You can touch me,” he said. “It’s another benefit of marriage.”

She bit her lips and slid her fingers over the scar on his shoulder. Then she slid her hands down his arm and back up again, over his chest, and down to his abdomen. “Are you having trouble breathing?” she asked.

“Just a bit,” he said, trying not to gasp for air. Controlling himself when she was touching him like this was proving more difficult than he’d anticipated. But he must restrain himself. She was still injured. He needed to be gentle.

She was also a virgin. Best to let her take the lead so he didn’t scare her…although she didn’t seem particularly scared. She was driving him to madness with her curiosity. Her fingers slid lower, to the waistband of his breeches. He caught her hand before she could open the placket holding his erection in place.

“What about your clothing?” he said.

She looked down at her dress. “I can’t take it off by myself. Not with my arm in this sling. Shall I call for Dickson?”

“I think I can manage.” Theo steered her toward the bed, and when they reached the edge, he began unpinning, unlacing, and untying. Finally, the dress and bodice were removed. Then he had to deal with the stays and petticoats. Finally, an eternity later, she stood in her chemise and stockings. She turned to face him then, and he swept his gaze over her, noting her sun-kissed skin, her delicate curves, and the dark aureolae of her breasts just visible beneath the thin layer of muslin.

“Now what?” she whispered.

“Now I’ll lay you down and do as I promised in my vows.”

“Which part?”

“The part where I worship you with my body.” He picked her up and set her gently on the bed, then untied her sling and made sure her injured arm was comfortably placed. He sat on the edge of the bed and removed his boots and stockings, while she ran a hand up his back, making him grip the edge of the bed to maintain control.

Finally, he joined her on the bed, lying beside her, pulling her close, and kissing her.

Bianca liked the feel of Theo beside her. He was large and warm, and his kisses made her feel hot and cold and needy all at the same time. His hands roved over her, touching her cheek, her hair, her arm, her belly. Then his hand moved upward and paused just under her breast. “May I touch you here?”

“Please,” she said, her skin burning with need.

His hand moved over her breast, his fingers teasing the erect nipple. Then he untied the ribbon of her chemise, parted the material, and she felt his bare skin on her flesh. His mouth trailed down her neck to her chest, and then she felt his tongue on the sensitive flesh of her breasts even as his hands cupped and massaged her. She squirmed as the place between her legs began to throb. But he seemed to anticipate that need as well, sliding one hand down her bare torso and into the curls at the juncture of her thighs. She parted her legs slightly for him, and he stroked her.

“Was this what you’ve been thinking about all those hours?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, opening her legs wider. The way he touched her felt so wonderful. She never wanted him to stop. He kissed her again, his tongue mimicking the motions of his fingers—sliding in and out, circling, flicking, teasing. Finally, she was panting with need, her hips rising in sheer desperation.

And that was when he withdrew his hand.

“Theo!”

“Patience, wife,” he said, his voice teasing. She realized he was fumbling with his trousers, and she helped him slide the material over his hips and down, then she sighed when he settled between her thighs. She looked up at him, looked into those eyes that were brown with a circle of green near the iris.

“I’ll be gentle,” he promised.

“I’m not scared,” she said. “I love you.”

“And I love you. Today and forever.” He kissed her again, and she was lost in the sensation of his lips, his hands, his fingers, and then his body as he slid inside her and made her his wife in truth.

And after they’d both found satisfaction and lay dozing in her bed, she opened one eye and caught a glimpse of the green, rolling hills surrounding her beloved Godwin Priory. And there was nowhere she’d rather be than in this place and held by the man she loved.