Page 37 of His Illegitimate Duchess

“Have I hurt you?” she asked in a strained, unfamiliar voice, feeling guilty over his still-healing lip.

Talbot just grinned, rakish like she’d never seen him, before gripping her hips and pulling her to him.

With only the silk of the dress covering her sex, she could feel all of his hardness against it, and she moaned in relief as the motion of the carriage caused her to grind against him.

Always the fast learner, she soon managed to replicate the motion with her hips in a way that enhanced her pleasure.

“Oh, yes, Elizabeth,” her husband whispered into her mouth as she felt his hand sliding into her slick folds.

Lizzie moaned in confusion and bliss, opening her legs wider as she threw her head back and leaned back on the palms of her hands.

Just then, the carriage suddenly stopped, and they both froze. Talbot quickly removed his hand from under her dress, which was now barely covering her sex. Elizabeth was tempted to wiggle her nether parts against him again, but stopped herself.

The Duke looked dishevelled and confused as he ran a hand through his hair. His lip was bleeding again. Elizabeth wondered what she looked like from his perspective. She could feel her lips tingling, and she was certain they were as red and swollen as his were.

Her hair most likely resembled a bird’s nest. She recalled how Talbot’s hands had cradled her head as he devoured her mouth, and she shivered. They both just stared at each other for a moment, then Talbot pulled her dress down and returned to his bench ungracefully.

She’d never seen him at a loss like he was now.

He kept rubbing the thumb of his right hand against his index and middle fingers.

Elizabeth was mortified when she realised those had to be the fingers that had touched her there .

Her eyes darted to his cock, which looked painfully hard.

He caught her looking and cleared his throat.

“We stopped to bait the horses again,” he said.

She nodded.

“We shall be stopping for the night soon.”

“This will be my first time staying at an inn,” she said, trying to distract them both.

“I know,” her husband said. “You told me once.”

“Have I? I cannot believe you remember that.”

“Well,” Talbot said as if that was answer enough.

Their eyes briefly met, and then they both looked away. As the heat of their previous encounter was dying down, Elizabeth was starting to get anxious about their first night together, wondering who would be proven right, Mary or her aunt.

“We should rest for a while,” Talbot declared, and promptly positioned himself in a way meant to convince his wife that he was going to fall asleep.

Elizabeth nodded and closed her eyes, feigning rest as well.

*

Talbot got them the last available room at the inn for the night (duke or not, one could not summon more available rooms out of thin air, unfortunately ), and a maid led him and his wife upstairs.

The room was large, with a clean and comfortable-looking bed in the middle, a fireplace and a dressing screen on the right side, and a wardrobe and washbasin on the left.

By the window, which was also on the left side, there was a small table and two chairs.

Before leaving, the maid matter-of-factly informed them that there was a chamberpot behind the screen, as well as a privy in the courtyard downstairs.

“I’m going to go tell them to bring up water for our bath,” Talbot informed her, and she was grateful for the opportunity to relieve herself in peace.

She then rang for the maid to take the pot away. With her characteristic brisk, efficient movements, she examined every corner of the room and then set about unpacking things from the small trunk that the driver had brought up.

Lizzie thanked God that at least Mary had thought to wonder how far away Norwich was, since Elizabeth’s common sense had been completely clouded by the sudden and confusing nature of the wedding.

Soon, Talbot came back, followed by two men who were carrying a large copper tub, which they put by the dressing screen so the maids could then fill it with the steaming hot water from their buckets.

When they all left, Elizabeth and Colin stood staring at it.

“You should go first,” he offered, ever the gentleman, “shall I call up a maid to assist you with your bath?”

Elizabeth frowned. “I don’t require any assistance. Can you manage without your valet?” she teased, but she also genuinely wondered.

He sighed dramatically, as if truly put upon.

“Luckily, I now have a wife to help me undress,” he teased back, and Elizabeth averted her gaze.

He must have sensed her discomfort because he added, “You needn’t worry. We shall only rest tonight. It was a long day for both of us.”

“That’s good,” Elizabeth said nervously, “besides, we don’t have any olive oil here. Perhaps we could ask them to bring some up, but I’d rather not. I do have my olive oil soap but I don’t think that would work as well,” she said nervously.

“Pardon me?” It was Talbot’s turn to frown. “What are you talking about? What do you need the oil for?”

Elizabeth felt like a street urchin caught picking pockets. She pressed her lips together, determined not to respond. Talbot stepped closer to her, and she stepped closer to the tub.

“Why the oil, wife?”

Elizabeth looked away from his amused face.

“My friend told me that sometimes… The oil helps,” she said vaguely, “the woman. The first night.”

There. That was as clear as she could make it.

Her husband grinned like a mischievous boy.

“I don’t think we shall have to worry about that.”

“Why do you say that?” She wondered.

“I was just in that carriage with you. And there I ascertained that you have no problem responding to my touch,” he said, and noticing that Lizzie was still not understanding, he explained, “when a woman likes what a man is doing to her, she becomes aroused between her legs and the arousal feels wet and sort of sticky, and helps better than any oil.”

Elizabeth remembered how he kept rubbing his fingers together and turned away from him, wishing to be done with this conversation. She took out the wrapped soap from her trunk and put it next to the tub.

“Don’t you think this is odd?” she finally asked.

“What exactly?”

“One day, you can’t touch someone without your gloves on or at all,” Elizabeth explained as she took out her nightgown from the trunk, “and the next day, it’s fine if you’re alone in a room with them and they watch you disrobe for your bath.”

Talbot nodded thoughtfully as he sat down on the bed and leaned back on his palms. He looked more relaxed than she’d ever seen him.

“Well, couples usually have a period when they are engaged to each other, during which they are left alone for a bit longer, and that helps them get more… acquainted with each other,” he said, but then frowned and added, “which you perhaps already know, since you’ve been engaged.”

“Which you were aware of when you cornered me in that cloak room,” Elizabeth said defensively.

“I was.” Talbot nodded and then shook his head as if amazed at something. “I’m just finding myself enraged by the idea that Harding might have kissed you.”

Elizabeth blushed.

“He did nothing of the sort. He did touch my lips with a flower once,” she admitted, without knowing why.

Talbot’s elbows were now on his knees, his whole body tense and leaning towards her.

“Was that all?”

“Aye.”

“What about your friend’s brother? The sailor?” he asked feverishly.

“Thomas? He was too busy kissing Sarah Baker to even think about me,” Elizabeth responded, genuinely confused by his intensity. “Are you worried about...?”

“Nothing like that,” he shook his head vehemently. “I’m sorry, I got carried away for a moment. Go ahead, take your bath, I shall not look.”

*

“I like the smell of your soap,” he said from behind the screen where Lizzie had banished him.

She smiled to herself. “Thank you.”

“It is deceptive in its sweetness, though. It lulls a man into a false sense of safety when he is near you.”

She didn’t say anything because she wasn’t sure she understood.

Afterwards, Colin bathed while she was getting dressed, and then, when the tub was emptied and taken away, they both cleaned their teeth.

She was glad Nicholas had gifted her the toothbrush with the ivory handle because Talbot’s was even more extravagant.

It even ( unnecessarily , in Elizabeth’s mind) had his initials on it.

His curiosity regarding her toilette was seemingly endless.

“And what is that?” he asked as she applied the Milk of Roses on her face.

“It’s a lotion,” she handed him the bottle, and he curiously examined every detail on it.

“What is it made of?”

“I don’t know. Roses and milk?”

He sniffed her face, and Elizabeth almost burst out laughing.

“It does smell of roses.”

“Mhm,” she managed as she applied the last dabs of the milk onto her chin.

She then proceeded to take out the pins from her hair one by one. Talbot soon joined in.

“This is a very soothing task,” he remarked.

“Not if you have to do it daily,” she answered.

“We shall see,” he said as he smoothed out the last strands of her long hair, which, Elizabeth realised, he was now seeing down for the first time.

He kept running his fingers through it reverently, and Lizzie felt like a lazy cat being stroked. She picked up her brush, but he took it from her and carefully started brushing her hair.

“It’s so soft,” he said in a quiet voice.

Elizabeth’s throat felt tight, and gooseflesh broke out all over her arms.

“There. All done. Imagine how relieved you’ll be when your lady’s maid is by your side again.”

Lizzie smiled weakly. “Thank you. You’ve done well.”