Page 17 of A Slight Problem with the Wedding (The Farthingale #11)

Octavian sensed something was amiss when he returned to the Huntsford townhouse that evening and saw Syd pacing in the entry hall while awaiting his arrival. "Love, what's wrong?"

She surprised him by rushing into his arms. "Nothing is wrong. I missed you."

He emitted a rumble of laughter as he gathered her in his embrace. "Now I am certain something is wrong."

She smiled as she looked up at him. "Actually, something is very right. I saw my friends today."

He gave her cheek a light caress. "You did? I'm glad. How are they? Do you wish to throw a dinner party and have them all join us? I should have mentioned it sooner, but we each got involved in catching up on the work waiting for us here in London. You with your forensic research and me with my navy assignment. It took me days of just writing reports. I've only now started to make a dent in the other work piled on my desk."

She reached up and kissed him on the lips. "A dinner party would be lovely. Will this coming Saturday do? I know it is short notice, but I would not invite many people. I'll show you my list before I send out invitations."

"Not necessary. I trust your judgement."

She burst out laughing. "Dear heaven, I never thought to hear those words spill from your lips. You must be more exhausted than I realized."

He joined her in a chuckle. "You can be obstinate, at times. But mostly you are perfect and wonderful."

"Oh, I am not. Octavian, I have been so unfair to you." She dragged him upstairs because she did not wish the Huntsford servants to overhear their conversation. She was about to seduce Octavian and did not care for anyone to listen in. Not that she really needed to say anything other than take me now.

He would drop everything and carry her to bed.

"Syd?" He arched an eyebrow in question once she got him in their bedchamber and locked the door.

A smile tugged at his lips when she tossed him what she hoped was a sultry smile. "What are you doing, Syd?"

She considered slinking toward him, but how exactly did one slink and still look alluring? "Am I not permitted a private moment with my husband?"

"Private, as in talking to me in private? Or private as in...?" He glanced toward their bed.

She pointed to the bed and emitted a shaky breath.

His expression gentled the moment he realized what she was doing. "Oh, Syd. Come here, love."

She ran into his arms when he held them out to her. "I've been so stupid, Octavian."

"No, love. You've been in pain." It was disconcerting how well he understood her.

But it also proved how strongly they were connected. "Would you mind if we had supper in our bedchamber tonight?"

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her with aching tenderness. "An excellent idea. May I ask what has put you in this amorous mood?" But he now turned serious. "Are you truly ready to take this next step in our marriage?"

She nodded.

He said nothing for the longest moment, and then released a breath in obvious relief. "Dare I ask, what changed your mind?"

"The way I spoke about you to my friends." Not to mention, her friends beating sense into her. Marigold had burst into tears while chattering about the endurance of love. She was right. Love mattered. Love could not be denied.

Love should not be denied.

"I told them how smart, insanely gorgeous, gentle and kind you were to me," she said. "I told them how happy I was with you."

"What else did you tell them?" he asked, groaning as he realized she may have confided their most intimate moments to her friends.

She winced. "I told them everything."

"Blessed saints, Syd. You told them our marriage was make-believe?" He looked hurt more than angry.

This only made Syd feel worse. "Quite the opposite. They now know our marriage is real...or will be as soon as we have our clothes off. If I understood the first thing about seduction, I would be using every feminine wile on you right now instead of talking. But I am not wily, apparently."

He was still staring at her and not making a move to undo a single one of her laces or any of his buttons. "Must I say it, Octavian?"

"Say what?"

She let out a breath. "Do not be difficult about this. Can you not see? I want you to take me, for I am yours and wish to be yours...forever."

He stared at her in silence for a long moment before the hint of a smile crossed his lips. "Yes, there is a very important thing we must say to each other before we go at it like a pair of wild monkeys."

"Octavian!" But she laughed. "I am trying to make this a tender moment and bare my soul to you."

He caressed her cheek. "You know how I feel about you. Do you feel the same way?"

He loved her.

His every action spoke of his affection.

He hadn't said the words because she had refused to hear them until now. Idiotically refused, as though not hearing them or saying them back to him would make this pain she still felt ripping through her more endurable.

She had it all backwards.

His love was the cure for her pain.

It was time she told him how she felt.

To her surprise, tears formed in her eyes.

Why was she turning into a blubbering peahen at this critical moment? She was almost as bad as Marigold who was sentimental about everything.

"Syd, shall I say it first?"

"No, I want to say it to you. It is important, Octavian. I have to say it first."

He took her hands and held them in those big, rough hands of his that never failed to stir her to passion with a mere touch. "I'm listening, love."

"Octavian...Octavian..."

He gave them a light squeeze. "You needn't force it, Syd. You'll say it when the time feels right."

"But it has always been right. That's just it. There has never been a moment when I have not loved you." She gasped. "I just said it, didn't I? I just said that I loved you."

His grin was ear to ear. "Indeed, you did. Care to say it again?"

She nodded. "I love you, Octavian."

"There's my girl." His voice was achingly soft.

"I'm so sorry I waited this long to tell you. But you knew I felt it." She was going to cry again because this admission had her heart in spasms and she had no idea how to control it.

"I love you, too," he said in a husky murmur.

He released her hands and began to unbutton the jacket of his uniform.

She smiled as she watched him shrug out of it.

He winked at her. "This is quite the momentous moment, isn't it?"

She laughed. "Yes, it is."

"Are you ready for this, Syd? You need to be sure because there is no undoing it once it is done."

She was shamefully eager, truth be told. "Octavian, you need to consider this next step, too. It is just as irrevocable for you. Once you claim me, there is no getting out of our marriage. The make-believe is gone."

"Hallelujah," he said without hesitation. "I never wanted our marriage to be a sham. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. What is your preference? Slow and romantic? Or wild and passionate?"

She laughed again. "It does not matter. I have a feeling we are going to do this every which way tonight. By the gleam in your eyes, I do not think it shall be one and done."

"But it will be," he said with affection, "if you are too sore. Syd, you need to be honest with me as we do this. I think you will like it, but I am big and you...well, you are going to be tight because you are untried."

She smiled at him. "That is most considerate of you, but I doubt there will be a problem since I melt whenever you touch me. As you well know, since you are always so smug about it afterward."

He grinned as he removed his shirt next.

Syd never tired of watching the beautiful flex and tension of his muscled torso. "Um, in truth, I think you know my body so well, that you will sense precisely what I need and at what moment."

He removed the clips from her stylish curls and set them aside on the bureau. "It is not difficult to do. You are quite vocal when expressing your pleasure."

"Octavian! I am not loud when...you know."

"Love, they can hear you all the way to the Thames."

She playfully swatted his shoulder. "Stop gloating! You are supposed to be complimenting me, not teasing me."

"And you were never supposed to steal my heart. Gad, it happened so quickly. I lost it to you before I drew a second breath." He turned her to face away from him in order to get at the laces of her gown. "You drive me wild, you little minx."

"Minx?" She gave a soft, purring laugh when he nuzzled her neck.

"Yes." He ran his hands all over her body, arousing her with remarkable efficiency.

Her skin tingled wherever he touched.

She sighed.

"Minx," he whispered, nibbling her earlobe. "You'll find the word defined in Samuel Johnson's dictionary...an exceptionally attractive and playful woman who often causes trouble. Sound familiar? Particularly the trouble part."

"That is completely unfair. Have I not been on my best behavior since marrying you?"

"Yes, if one overlooks poking Laird Armstrong's son in the nose and drawing blood. Not to mention the clan war you almost started when taking on the MacGregors by yourself."

"How could I ignore the poor Campbell girl in need of help? And how was this a bad thing when I got those merino sheep for the Armstrongs as reward?"

Once they were both fully undressed, he lifted her in his arms and carried her to bed. "Only you would still be obsessed with those blasted sheep."

"They make the finest wool. Have you ever run your hands over anything softer?"

"Your sweet body, for one." He eyed her with heat as he shifted over her, his body pressing lightly on hers as he dipped his head and covered her mouth in a kiss that left her breathless and aching for more of him. "I love you, Syd."

What a stupid goose she had been to delay this moment for so long. "I love you, too."

No more words were necessary.

The exquisite sensation of his touch and her eager response said it all.

Dear heaven.

Why had she ever resisted this man?

His kisses were scorching and exquisite.

His hands were calloused but his touch always gentle.

He played her body with the agile expertise of a master musician. She thrummed and hummed as he kissed her, suckled her breasts, and flicked his tongue over their straining buds until they were hard points. "Octavian," she moaned, clutching his hair and tugging on it to hold him closer.

"I'm here, love," he crooned, stroking his finger along the sensitive nub between her legs and evoking fires within her.

"I love you, Syd," he repeated. "I love you so much."

He nudged her legs apart and positioned himself between them as he prepared to claim her. Dear heaven. Had he not already claimed every other ounce of her? How could she resist? His every word and deed during the weeks of their marriage, and even before they had ever exchanged vows, proved how much he loved and cherished her.

She felt a momentary pinch of pain when he broke through her maiden's barrier, but he had prepared her and there was only pleasure after that first, fleeting moment. She wrapped her arms around his neck as his big, muscled body filled her and he embedded himself inside her. He cast her a conquering, yet still affectionate smile, and kept her in the cradle of his arms to guide her through this rhythm of love. They were two dancers moving in perfect harmony to their music. Although she was not quite perfect, sometimes rushing her movements because she wanted so much of him, and craved all of him now.

Her big, protective ox.

That guardian-protector part of him was so ingrained in his soul.

Little fires burned everywhere within her body.

His skin was hot to the touch, too.

He made her burn with an intensity, the like of which she had never experienced before, not even all the prior times he'd guided her to pleasure. But this...this...was different, for this was truly their shared pleasure.

Yes, sharing.

Was not this the entire point of marriage?

He watched her with his silver eyes that resembled smoldering embers and kindled her passion.

She writhed beneath him, impatiently rubbing against his body as a familiar pressure built within her. She knew this hot, liquid feeling, for she had experienced it before under his touch. But this was different. He hadn't been inside her before. He hadn't shared in her pleasure until now. "Octavian!"

"Let yourself go, love. I'm right here to catch you."

She kissed him and set free all of her inhibitions, all of her worries, and allowed the sensation of him to flood her senses. She felt his strength, inhaled his scent of bergamot, savored the warmth of his mouth and heat of his tongue.

Her eyes had been closed to better absorb these sensations, but she now opened them to find him once again smiling at her. "My tender beast," she whispered. "My one and only true love."

There was wonder in the way he looked at her.

She felt a soul-deep contentment, a joy she had never experienced before.

She loved him so much and told him so.

"I love you, too," he whispered.

Fire tore through her and consumed her, so that there was nothing left of her but wisps of ash floating and soaring through the air.

Octavian continued to watch her.

He hugged her to his broad chest as she cried out in pleasure, and held her safe as she tumbled back to earth. Then with a low growl, he thrust twice and followed her, spilling his seed in her and claiming her as forever his.

"Oh, Lord. That was good," he said, carefully easing out of her with a groaning laugh and collapsed atop her. All sweat. All heat. All glorious muscles.

She loved the sensation of his weight upon her, but he quickly moved off to avoid crushing her and fell back against the mattress with a grunt of satisfaction. He then drew her into his arms and grunted again. "That was really, really good, Syd. How do you feel?"

"Really, really good," she replied, mimicking his grunts as she planted kisses on his chest. Her lips were still tingling from his kisses as she tasted the light sheen of sweat on his skin. "I love you, you big ox. I am yours forever and there is no getting rid of me now."

"I never wanted our marriage to end. You and me, minx. Into our dotage."

They never bothered to order supper brought up since they were too busy feasting on each other. Octavian claimed her twice more over the course of the night, but would not take her again come morning, even though they were both still naked and he was obviously aroused. "You're going to be sore, Syd. I am big and we did not hold back."

She meant to assure him that she could handle it, but the words escaped her when he leaned over and cupped her breast, smiling when the mound filled the palm of his hand. She gasped as he ran his thumb lightly across its pink bud, and was completely undone, lost to him when he closed his mouth over the bud and began to suckle and tease it.

Apparently, this is all it took to turn her wanton.

She was not even fully awake yet, but her body responded immediately and she reached her ecstasy before he had hardly started. Had even a minute passed? He had not even touched her anywhere else.

He regarded her with a smug, conquering grin. "Good morning."

She snuggled against him. "You are a wicked lout."

"Why? Because I know your body so well?" He kissed her on the brow. "I had such dreams about that glorious body of yours. Every night from the moment I met you. Agonizing nights because my heart was yours and there could never be anyone else for me. Because of you, I became celibate as a monk."

This surprised her. "Not even to relieve your urges? We were more enemies than friends at the time. You owed me nothing."

He groaned. "It made no difference to my heart. We Thornes tend to be one-woman men. There it was...I loved you and did not want to be with anyone else."

"I had no idea I was such an enchantress," she teased.

She had assumed he was continuing his rakehell ways because he had not shown any inclination to court her. In truth, she had died a little inside when rumor began to spread about his courting Lady Clementine.

Was she really as horrible as Octavian insisted?

How could Clementine be worse than her? She had behaved abominably toward Octavian. Riling him. Disobeying him. Defying him. And all along, he loved her.

She sighed, feeling ashamed of herself.

In her own defense, she had only been difficult because she loved him.

"Syd, why are you frowning?"

"There is something I need to tell you."

He moaned. "Is this something you should have told me before we had sex?"

"No." She sat up and wrapped the sheet around her, as much as she could grab of it without leaving him naked. Not that he would care. He wasn't a bashful man. "Lady Withnall mentioned that Clementine was not happy to learn of our marriage. Clementine believed you were courting her, and now she is angry."

"But I wasn't ever courting her. I shared a dance or two with her, escorted her and her father to the theater once."

"And escorted them to a ball or two," Syd added.

"At her father's request, not my idea. I hadn't even seen her for months before that night you tossed me off Sir Henry's roof. Speaking of which, there is something I need to tell you."

"Oh?"

"Gad, you look pretty, Syd. Your hair's in a tumble and you look adorably sleepy."

She arched an eyebrow. "Sleepy? Not after that morning wake-up surprise you gave me."

He laughed. "I couldn't help myself. I am besotted."

"What is it you had to tell me? Only that I am pretty and you love me?"

He sighed. "Sir Henry's family has asked the London magistrate to make inquiries into his death. I meant to tell you last night but was distracted by our...er, going at it like a pair of wild monkeys."

"Octavian! Stop describing us as that." She rolled her eyes. "You are such a big ox."

He grinned. "And you are a kitten."

She rolled her eyes again. "I thought I was a minx? Stop being naughty and just tell me."

"The magistrate intends to question your father."

Syd thought on it a moment. "But he doesn't know anything about the night Sir Henry died. He was already on his way to London. Does the magistrate believe my father might have done it? He certainly had enough motive. But you and I know he is innocent. He can provide witnesses to attest to his whereabouts. The Armstrongs and those gamblers he swindled along the way. Thank goodness he was nowhere near the Abbott's Cross Inn at the time."

"Indeed," Octavian muttered. "Otherwise, your father would be thinking up ways to blackmail poor Mr. Douglas."

"No! My father would never...well, perhaps you are right. He is wretched, isn't he?"

Octavian nodded. "The magistrate is sure to come around to us next. I am not concerned about proving your father's innocence. As you said, we all know he was in England and not in Scotland at the time. It is Mr. Douglas I am most worried about. The magistrate must be kept in the dark about what really happened. For this, we have to keep our story consistent, Syd."

"I understand."

"We must tell him that we were at the inn, but none of us heard anything. We assume he was set upon and robbed while following us to the inn. He must have resisted and fought back, so this assailant, or unknown assailants, killed him."

She nibbled her lip as she began to fret. "The magistrate will question why he was following us. I'm sure my father will tell him about Sir Henry's desire to marry me."

"His filthy obsession," Octavian said in disgust. "There's no reason to lie about any of it."

"What about the Armstrongs? What do you think they might tell him? And the Gretna Green blacksmith? What will he tell the magistrate? He is not going to lie for us."

"They can all swear to the truth about our wedding ceremony, and so should we. Why should they lie about your father and Sir Henry attempting to stop our marriage? It happened. Everyone saw them try to stop us."

"But this will give us a motive for killing him."

"Syd, it doesn't matter. We did not kill him and can attest to it because it is the truth. There is only one fact that needs omitting...that we know who did it."

Syd acknowledged his concern with a nod.

"If asked, all we need to say is Sir Henry must have followed us. But we were unaware because he never made it to the inn. There's no need to deny Sir Henry was angry or wanted revenge. We did not even consider the possibility of his following us because we saw him and your father ride out of Gretna Green on their way back to London. Everyone saw them ride south and assumed their chase was over."

"Octavian, you know I am not a good liar. What if the magistrate senses I am holding something back?"

He pursed his lips. "I'll request that he question only me."

"Will he agree?"

"Yes. I will let him know that Sir Henry was a brute who was obsessed with you and scared the wits out of you. Just speaking about him oversets you because you are such a delicate, fluttery thing."

She poked him in the ribs. "Don't you dare call me delicate or fluttery."

"Would you rather I describe you as a harpy? A tavern brawler? But there really is no reason to involve you since we were together the entire time, and whatever you saw, I saw. Or more to the point, it was our wedding night and we were in bed, doing something other than thinking of Sir Henry."

"Octavian! You cannot say that."

"Why not? The magistrate is not going to ask more questions after that statement."

"It is not right to discuss our wedding night."

"I am not going to describe how you and I were naked together and?C"

"Beast!"

"Ouch," he said with a chuckle, releasing her as she wriggled out of his arms. "No more teasing you, I promise."

She gathered the sheet around her body once again. "You had better behave. How can you treat the matter so lightly?"

"Believe me, I am not." He rested his hands behind his head as he leaned back against their pillows and admired her. "I will feel much better when the inquiry is over. It will amount to no more than a few questions and done. His family detested him. Their request is more for show than any true concern. Behind closed doors, they are probably toasting his demise. Nor will his business acquaintances grieve for him. There's probably a battle going on behind the scenes as to who will take control of his illicit operations."

"I'll hold my breath until it is all over." She tugged the sheet back when he tried to draw it off her. "I am not going to fall naked into your arms, you wicked man. Besides, I am not done talking to you."

"What else is there to discuss, love?"

His smile was making her melt and lose the trail of her thoughts. "My father. My parents, actually. I thought I would visit them today. But I dare not go now or risk encountering the magistrate. Perhaps I had better wait until the matter of Sir Henry is completely put to rest."

"You could invite your parents here."

"No!" She sighed. "My father will probably steal the silverware."

"Syd, you cannot put off seeing your parents. Shall I go with you? Even though Sir Henry is gone, your father's debt vouchers remain. Someone is going to come around to their home soon asking for repayment. I need to square this with your father."

She nodded. "If it were up to me, I would never see them again."

He frowned as he studied her. "Syd, what is going on? Why are you suddenly so loathe to see your parents?"