Page 9 of Forever and a Duke (The Bridewell Sisters #1)

CHAPTER 8

L ily sat in the ornate bedchamber designed for a duchess and struggled to accept that it was now her own. Every night for the foreseeable future, she'd lay her head down on the plump pillows under the pale pink counterpane.

And the man she'd been in love with since she was a girl of sixteen was but a room away. She stared at the door connecting their suites. Could he have simply gotten under the covers and gone to sleep?

She couldn't imagine how he was able to rest when her own nerves were jangling.

All through the reception, he'd stayed close to her, often reaching out to touch her arm or hold her hand. Once, he’d even bent to kiss her cheek. He'd been kind, solicitous, bringing her drinks and refreshments. Being as attentive as she could have wished.

And yet when the guests departed and her sisters went upstairs to their new chambers, he’d pulled her aside and told her he wished to cause her no distress. He reiterated what he’d said the day he proposed—she understood without further explanation. There was to be no rush in regard to the physical part of their marriage.

When she was ready, he said, she need only come to him. And she'd known in that moment that he meant at some point in the future. Whether it be days or weeks, or even months. He seemed content to wait on her to make this decision.

Yet as she perched on the edge of her opulent bed, wearing a thin, silky night dress—a revealing confection that her mother had at some point placed in her trousseau—she wondered how much she would shock her new husband if she were to knock on the door that connected their chambers tonight.

Perhaps waiting was the proper thing to do. Perhaps it was what he expected of her. But that kiss as they’d stood on the altar, after uttering such earnest vows to each other, had unlocked something in her. Or perhaps revived it.

All the yearning she'd felt for him for so long. All the desire she'd thought she'd extinguished and swept away like ashes in a fireplace grate. Well, it hadn't burned out at all. It had always been there, if only as an ember, waiting to flame back to life.

Before she could talk herself out of it. Lily stood and faced that pretty filigreed connecting door. Fear, hesitation, and good sense all rushed in to stop her.

What about propriety?

But another part of her fought the fear. What impropriety could there be to keep a freshly wed wife from her husband on their wedding night?

She knew the mechanics of coitus from the textbooks she’d read. Male anatomy. Female anatomy. Reproduction. Her father hadn’t sheltered her from studying biological functions.

Though she realized that when emotions and the heart were engaged, it stopped being a matter of simple biology.

And there had never been a man she’d wanted to give herself to except Griffin Kingsley.

He'd be pleased that she was about to knock on this door, wouldn't he?

Even if he didn’t feel for her as she did for him, she’d sensed desire in the kiss they shared. She hadn't imagined it. Or had she? If nothing else, she needed to determine whether she had. Whether attraction, at the very least, was something shared between them.

So she raised her hand to knock. And then hesitated.

What if she seemed too brazen? That wasn't the way for a duchess to behave. His grandmother would no doubt offer that admonishment.

No, she was being a fool. The man had just vowed to be hers. He would not mind that she knocked upon his bedchamber door.

She rapped softly. If he didn't respond, she'd assume he was asleep. And she would go to bed and force herself to do the same.

This wasn't the only night. There were many nights ahead of them. She needn’t make so much of the fact that it was their one and only wedding night.

Then the door opened. And he stood before her, wearing only trousers and a half-buttoned shirt—and a frown.

At that frown, her belly dipped a bit. Perhaps this had been a terrible mistake.

Though she couldn’t seem to drag her gaze from the hard planes of his bare chest. Indeed, she fought the urge to unbutton the remaining buttons of his shirt and push it from his shoulders.

“Are you all right, Lily?”

When she stood mutely, dumbstruck at the sight of him half dressed, he reached for her. “Come in, please. Tell me what’s troubling you.”

He led her toward the fire, and she realized how bare she was. The sleeveless filmy slip of a nightgown hid nothing.

When she looked up at him, she caught him drinking her in, his gaze on her breasts, then sliding lower.

She thought she felt a tremble where his hand still rested on her upper arm.

“Will you tell me what’s troubling you?” he asked and his voice emerged deep and husky, a bit breathless.

“I wanted to see you.”

His mouth began to tip up in a smile. “Did you?”

“Yes. It’s our wedding night,” she added as if he might have forgotten.

“It is.”

“And I know you said we needn't rush. I understand that bit. I don’t want to rush either.” And yet she was doing just that as her words tumbled out quickly. “But I was wondering if you would…” The rest stalled somewhere in throat.

He immediately sought to soothe her, running his hand down her arm until he clasped her hand. Then he lifted it to place a kiss on her palm.

“Anything,” he whispered against her skin. “Ask me and it’s yours.”

“I don't think I can sleep…until you kiss me goodnight.” Lily’s body tensed as she waited for him to respond.

He said nothing, and he’d stilled too. But his eyes had altered, from stormy blue to a vivid cobalt. Perhaps it was a trick of the firelight, but Lily saw desire in the depths of his eyes. Strong. Vibrant. As fierce as her own.

She dared to lay her palm against the bare skin of his chest. Yes, his heartbeat thrashed like hers. It emboldened her, and she slid her hand lower, tracing over the rigid muscles of his chest. Without any sense of shame, she explored freely, running her fingers up to stroke the hollow at the base of his throat. She barely resisted the urge to rise onto her toes and press a kiss there.

After she’d explored, he stroked his fingertips along her cheek, then dipped to hook a finger under her chin. Nudging her up as he bent down, he studied her lips as if deciding how best to devour them.

Lily let out a little moan. She hadn’t meant to. Didn’t even know where it had come from. But she knew what caused it. Longing. Such intense, deep longing for this man.

He took her mouth. This wasn’t a gentle brush as their kiss in the church had begun. Tonight, he claimed her as his, then pulled back to nip at her lower lip. Lily gasped, and he took it as the invitation it was. His tongue stroked inside to taste her, and her knees nearly buckled.

But then his arm came around to pull her into the shelter of his body. As he kissed her and stroked her with his tongue, she nearly forgot to breathe. Then he pulled back long enough to skim his lips along her neck.

Lily arched back, reaching up to grasp his shoulders, one hand sliding to his nape to brace herself. She clutched at him as if afraid she might slip away, and he was the anchor that would keep her steady. He took his time exploring her skin, licking, nipping with his teeth, tasing with his tongue.

“You’re delicious,” her murmured near her ear. “And so damn beautiful.”

At that, Lily couldn’t resist any longer. She reached for those still unfastened buttons on his shirt and undid every one of them. He understood and straightened, allowing her to push the fabric from his shoulders. Allowing her to run her fingers across the skin of his chest, the bulge of his muscled shoulders, the sprinkling of hair that ran into his waistline.

Though when she reached that spot, he hissed as if she’d burned him.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked him quietly.

“You couldn’t.” He cupped her cheek. “But if you keep touching me…”

“Do you want me to stop?”

He laughed that warm, melting laugh of his, and Lily covered his hand with her own. She clasped it, nudging it down from her cheek, inviting him to touch her where she’d touched him.

Griffin swallowed hard and allowed her to lead him. When she drew his fingertips over her breast, across her nipple that was hard and aching for him, he groaned.

Then wrapped an arm around her again and bent to kiss her aching bud. He laved it through the silk, tugging her into his mouth and then suckling gently.

When she reached out to stroke a hand through his hair, he rewarded her by treating her other nipple to the same sweet torture.

“Please” she keened, and then she couldn’t stop a chuckle that bubbled up.

He straightened, wrapping both arms around her. “Something amusing, my duchess?”

“I don’t even know what I’m begging for.”

He stroked her cheek again, held her gaze as he drew his fingers through her unbound hair. “I do,” he finally whispered before he kissed her again.

These kisses were languid, tender, and he moaned when she flicked her tongue out to taste him as he had taught her. He slipped his hand down to caress her breast, then lower across her belly, where he began to tug up her night rail, bunching the fabric above his wrist.

Cool air on every inch of her body that was not pressed against him was a shocking contrast to his heat.

Then his fingers found the spot where she was warm and wet and aching for him. He never stopped kissing her as he dipped his fingers through her curls, stroking her folds, and finding that one point where all her need seemed to center.

He stroked her mouth with his tongue in much the same rhythm that he stroked her body with his fingers. And Lily was lost to anything but those two points of pleasure—his mouth on hers, his fingers dipping and circling—until her body felt as if she was climbing, yearning for some great height. She knew the physical mechanism—why it happened, how it happened. But this was beyond any medical text. It was so intense it pulled her under. She let out a cry as it overflowed inside her, through her, until she was shuddering in his arms.

“That was…extraordinary,” she managed when she could once again from words.

“ You are extraordinary.” His lips hovered near her temple and he murmured, “I adore your passion.”

“I feel as if my very bones have melted.”

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. “Then let me make sure you get to bed safely.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, he swept her into his arms.

Lily cast a glance at his mammoth four-poster bed longingly, eager to sink into it and wrap him in her arms. But he didn’t head that way. He carried her through the connecting door that still stood ajar and placed her gently on the duchess’s bed. He pulled back the coverlet, and Lily slid underneath.

After tucking the blanket around her, he pressed his hands on either side of her and leaned over to kiss her once more. Just a gentle, soft peck.

“See you in the morning, lovely wife.”

“Do we have something special planned?” Lily’s voice still sounded odd to her own ears, dreamy and deeper than it should be.

He frowned. “I’m afraid the land agent is coming to meet with me tomorrow, but I will find you as soon as we’re finished.” He bent once more and kissed her nose. “Don’t let Grandmama keep you trapped planning the house party.”

Swirling thoughts spun in her head. “House party?” Were they to travel somewhere together? Hadn’t there been some mention of a house party at the luncheon?

“Yes, she’s already sent out invitations. Guests arrive on Friday.”

When he’d gone, and the damnable connecting door had closed behind him, Lily felt the sting of tears welling in her eyes.

She hadn’t truly expected a post-wedding journey, yet her silly heart had hoped for perhaps a day trip. Just the two of them and time to get to know one another more deeply. Now it seemed that in but a few days, she would be embarking on her duchess duties and sharing her husband with a house full of guests.

The next morning, Griffin could think of nothing but Lily.

As Masters, his land agent, went over facts and figures about the state of the ducal holdings, Griffin’s body missed the tantalizing feel of having her in his arms. That she’d trusted him with her passion and need had affected him deeply.

He licked his lips and could swear he still felt the lush heat of her mouth on his. And how she kissed him, how she touched him—good Lord, it was if she’d been waiting all her life to have him.

Taking her back to her bedroom had tested all his self-control. But it was necessary. He’d known from the start that they should not share a bed. It would make her miserable and lead to questions he did not want to answer.

“Is that satisfactory to you, Your Grace?” The man’s voice finally broke through his musings.

“Pardon? Repeat that, will you, Masters?”

The bespectacled man smiled. “Perhaps such a long meeting but a day after your wedding ceremony was not ideal.”

Of course the man was absolutely correct, but this meeting had been on his calendar for months, and the wedding been so much more important that he’d forgotten to cancel Masters’ visit.

“Why don’t I leave these documents with you? I’ve made notes of everything we discussed, and I can return in a week to finalize anything that requires my attention.”

“Excellent.” Griffin collected the pile of documents without much enthusiasm. He still had the damned estate ledgers to review, and all he wanted to do was spend time with Lily.

“Once again, I offer my congratulations upon your nuptials, Your Grace.”

“Thank you, Masters.” Griffin stood and then waited impatiently for the man to gather his things and head toward the door.

“Good day to you, Masters,” he said as the man bowed to take his leave.

Then he immediately headed out into the hall to find Lily.

“Is Masters leaving so soon?” his grandmother called when he was halfway up the stairs.

She emerged from the drawing room as if she’d been waiting to catch him the moment he stepped out of his study.

“We’ve finished early,” he told her, “but he’ll be back next week. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Grandmama.”

“I do hope you’re not going to seek out the duchess and distract her. I suspect she’s making good progress on the house party planning. In fact, I was going to invite her to take her lunch with me and answer any questions she might have.”

Griffin clenched his teeth and then turned, descending the stairs until he and his grandmother stood face to face. “I’m going to speak with my wife. You may call it distraction if you please. And I am claiming her for lunch as well.” He bussed her cheek before she could offer up any argument.

As he climbed the stairs again, he considered for the first time since her arrival whether he should ask his grandmother to return to the dower house. He adored her and believed she meant well, but Lily was now his priority. His grandmother needed to understand that.

He expected to find his wife in the sitting room next to her bedchamber. It featured floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto the field that faced toward Briarfield, and he suspected that would please her.

But she wasn’t there.

As a housemaid passed, he asked if she’d seen the duchess.

“She’s in the library, Your Grace,” the girl told him.

Ah, of course. How could he not realize she’d be drawn to that book-lined room?

He headed to the library with long strides, eagerness building inside him. At the threshold, he stopped, the air seizing up in his chest.

She sat at one of the map tables with papers strewn around her. Sunlight shone through the stained-glass windows, lighting her skin in a kaleidoscope of colors. His wife was a breath-stealing beauty, and he’d been a fool not to fully appreciate that fact years ago.

He knocked softly at the oak door. “May I interrupt?”

“Yes, please do.” Her smile at seeing him made him smile too.

She stood as he approached, pressing her hands to her lower back and arching as if she’d been sitting too long.

“Here. Let me.” Pointing to the table, he told her, “Place your hands there.”

Lily did as he directed, leaning down to place her hands on the tabletop.

Griffin stood behind her and swept his hands across her lower back, kneading with light pressure and then a bit harder. When she moaned, his body responded as it had last night. He was hard and aching to finish what they’d started. He reminded himself to have patience, restraint.

After he’d worked the knots in her back a bit more, he took her waist in his hands and forced himself to push away the image of taking her bent over the table or?—

“You’re very good at that,” she said softly, gazing at him over her shoulder.

“I have many talents, wife.” With a hand on his chest, he feigned offense. “That you would assume I don’t wounds me deeply.”

She straightened and chuckled. “This is all a bit daunting,” she admitted, gesturing at the papers scattered across the table.

In the pile, Griffin identified a schema of Rosemere’s dining table and a sketch of the order in which Rosemere’s guest rooms were laid out, plus a menu written in a neat hand that he assumed must be Lily’s.

“Let me take you away from all this for a bit.”

With one last glance at the table, she nibbled her lower lip, seemingly oblivious to how it made him want to tip her back onto the table and kiss her senseless.

“Your grandmother insisted?—”

Griffin hovered a finger near her lips. “She may seem as if she is the arbiter of all decisions at Rosemere, but she’s not.” He lowered his hand and offered it to her, palm up. “Come walk with me. It’s a beautiful day. We’ll have the staff prepare us a picnic basket.”

She took his hand, and it felt like a key slipping seamlessly into some locked part of himself. Each time they held hands—a simple act that had never affected him with any woman before—it gave him an extraordinary sense of comfort and ease.

“I’m a bit worried about the twins.” The frown she wore disturbed him.

“Are they all right?”

“Frankly, they’re a bit nervous. The dowager duchess informed them that they’ll be getting a governess soon.”

“Do you not wish them to have a governess?” It sounded reasonable to Griffin, given their ages, but he would defer to Lily’s wishes in regard to her sisters.

After a moment’s hesitation, she finally said, “If I am able to choose the governess, I think it makes a great deal of sense. But I’ve always tutored them, you see. Or Daphne or Ivy. They’re imaging the worst sort of tyrant, I fear.” She laughed lightly, but he could still sense her unease.

“No one will be hired without your approval. I promise you that.”

She eyed him dubiously, but then nodded as if she would trust in his promise.

“I told you when I proposed to you that we would consult each in all matters, and I meant it.”

“But what will your grandmother say?”

He stopped as they headed out into the hall and stroked his fingers along her cheek. No longer able to resist tasting her again, he bent to kiss her. She responded eagerly, laying a hand on his chest and gripping the edge of his lapel to pull him closer.

When they were both breathless, he pulled back but had to kiss the tip of her nose before finally letting her go.

“I don’t want you to worry,” he told her softly, “so please leave Grandmama to me.”