Page 45
Story: The Icy Duke Claims a Bride
“Yes, Hugh, like that. Yes!” Catherine had cried out over the desk as he had thrust into her deeply, rhythmically, and repeatedly.
“You feel so good, Hugh—oh, yes, yes…” she had moaned as his sensuous tongue sucked on her pearl.
“Hugh, I need you inside me now…” she had insisted in the dining room when his prolonged kisses and gentle fingering had excited her beyond bearing.
She was finding that she didn’t merely enjoy Hugh’s attention, but she welcomed and encouraged it. She had even spontaneously kissed his manhood and then taken it into her mouth, to his evident delight. Her only stipulation was that he take off his mask during their sexual encounters—something he did without protest.
Even when walking in the gardens in the early evening, Catherine had done nothing to discourage his lustful designs. On the contrary, she had returned his kisses avidly and then responded joyfully as he laid her down behind the boundary hedge of the top garden and ravished her core with his tongue once again.
Aside from the undeniable pleasure, Catherine was determined that Hugh would enjoy her more than he had ever enjoyed any other woman. Especially Lady Brightling…
The sun was beginning to set when a messenger rode up the drive of Redbridge Hall at a trot rather than a speedier gait. The Duke and Duchess watched through a gap in the hedge as the man dismounted unhurriedly and pulled a single envelope out of his bag.
“Should we go and see what it is?” Catherine whispered, rearranging and smoothing her dress .
“Can’t be anything important,” Hugh said with a grin, pulling her back down behind the hedge and undoing all her efforts. “Being ravished by your husband is far more urgent…”
The sun had set fully by the time they finally emerged from behind the hedge and made their way inside, Catherine now blushing and hoping that Hugh’s assurances that no gardeners would be working at that hour had been correct.
Hugh plucked the envelope off Perkins’ tray and broke it open carelessly as he and Catherine walked straight to the dining room. She removed a stray piece of straw from his thick dark hair and shivered with remembrance while he read the card.
“Take a look at that,” he said with a thoughtful frown, tossing the card on the dining table as he took his seat.
According to the card, Lord Edwin Vaughan and Lady Georgina Vaughan requested the pleasure of the company of the Duke and Duchess of Redbridge the following evening for a performance ofThe Fairy Queenat the Theatre Royal.
There was also a short note on the back of the invitation.
We hear the honeymoon is over and you’re both out around the ton. We have two spare tickets for this, and I do hope you can join us. Gx
Catherine automatically made a scornful noise upon reading the note but then composed herself in front of the servants, who were now ladling out watercress soup and pouring wine.
“I think we should go,” Hugh said as he unfolded his napkin and placed it on his lap.
“You think that’s wise?” she asked, incredulous at his response. “Given that we’re no more sure yet of… last week’s peculiar events?”
“I am actually somewhat surer. Since last week, I’ve received certain correspondence from my grandmother, as well as reliable intelligence from some of my acquaintances who were at Lady Tarleton’s ball.”
“And it all makes him seem innocent, does it?” she pressed, feeling vexed and slightly afraid.
“On the contrary, it makes him seem guilty as sin—although whether of last week’s events or only earlier misdeeds, I cannot say yet.” Hugh shifted his gaze to a maid who had stopped to straighten up ornaments on a sideboard. “Is there a problem, Elsie?” he asked pointedly.
“No, Your Grace,” the maid replied quickly, bobbing a curtsey and removing herself from the room.
“Then why run the risk of meeting your uncle alone again, Hugh?” Catherine protested now that the servants were gone. “If he did try to kill you, you should surely be avoiding him.”
“There are certain things I’d like to hear from his own lips,” Hugh told her. “As long as I accept no food or drink, there will be no chance for further poisoning attempts.”
“Accept no gifts of any kind!” Catherine insisted. “There are other poisons that kill by touch, you know.”
“Very well, I will not even embrace my aunt, lest my uncle put something toxic in her perfume.” He smiled.
This levity infuriated Catherine.
“It isn’t a joke, Hugh! Why didn’t you tell me about your grandmother’s involvement, or about whomever it was you spoke to last night at the ball?”
“Well, last night, it seemed that you only wanted to berate me for Sarah, and today, I’ve been entirely busy bedding you if you haven’t forgotten,” he returned equally crossly.
“I see,” Catherine uttered, her conflicting emotions making it hard for her to think straight.
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