Page 14 of The Duke and the Temporary Bride (Duchesses of Convenience #4)

Chapter Fourteen

H annah and Frederick were supposed to sup together once he had finished putting Amelia to bed. That was the plan that they had agreed upon, but considering what Hannah had just learned, she decided that a different plan was needed.

If they dined together, the setting would steer the conversation away from anything pertaining to them giving in to their passions and desires. She would have no choice but to tell him about Charlotte’s visit, and that would likely lead to an awkward conversation, nipping in the bud her goal of making her husband lose control and take her.

So, once she bade farewell to Charlotte, she tracked down Mr. Farrow and asked him to inform her husband that she would like to speak with him privately in his bedroom before supper. And then, she hurried to said bedroom and prepared herself.

Tonight, there would be no need for a dress.

She dropped the blanket to the floor, removed her dress so that she was in just a light slip, and then wrapped the blanket around her shoulders once more. The fire was lit and left to simmer. The curtains were drawn. And as with the previous night, she found herself sitting on the edge of his bed, waiting.

After some time, Hannah heard Frederick leave Amelia’s room. She listened to the sound of his footsteps as he passed the door and went downstairs. A few minutes later, she heard his footsteps approaching down the hallway, heading in the direction of his room.

Hannah did not feel as nervous as she had been the night before, and that was for good reason. After the day they had, she had managed to convince herself that Frederick wanted this as much as she did. Oh, he might need some convincing, but she knew that he would not threaten to throw her out as he had done last night.

They were finally going to consummate their marriage, and the more Hannah thought of it, the hotter she became under her blanket.

The door opened suddenly, and Frederick stepped inside.

“Hannah…” He stood in the doorway, studying her, hesitant to close the door behind him, as if that might announce his intentions. “Farrow said you wished to speak with me.”

“I did—I mean, I do.”

He frowned and tilted his head. “I assumed that was what supper was for?”

A flirtatious smile spread across her lips, and she fluttered her eyelashes. “Would you close the door, Frederick? I am still cold from earlier.” She shifted the blanket. “And you are letting the heat out.”

Again, he hesitated, his dark green eyes flicking over her. He licked his lips, considered… and then closed the door.

“I did tell you not to go into the pond. You may have caught a chill.”

She tittered. “No, I am fine. Well…” She looked right at him, making sure he did not misinterpret her words. “Now that you are here, I am feeling warmer already.”

An obvious line, one which she hoped that he would pick up on. But still, he seemed intent on keeping that barrier between them, as if he honestly thought he might stand a chance of denying her tonight.

Remaining in the doorway, he looked at her without looking right at her.

“I am guessing you wish to speak about your sister’s visit?” he asked.

Hannah blinked. “My sister?”

“The Duchess of Hayward,” he clarified. “Farrow said that she paid you a visit earlier but could not tell him the reason. That is why you wished to speak before supper, yes?”

“Oh…” Hannah’s eyes widened with the sudden realization of how rushed and unthought-out this plan was.

She had not considered that Mr. Farrow might inform Frederick of Charlotte’s visit—a ridiculous misstep, for of course he would. And while Hannah had every intention of telling her husband all about it, she had hoped to wait until tomorrow, when they would both be in an infinitely better mood. But now…

“Yes, she… ah, she came to see me.”

“And?”

“Oh, it is nothing.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Not worth discussing, really. But why don’t you come closer, Frederick.” She shifted on the bed and patted the space beside her. “I can hardly hear you when you’re standing all the way over there.”

Frederick frowned. “Farrow said that she insisted on speaking to you only. And that she was only here for a few minutes. Surely, there must have been good reason.”

“She just wished to see how I was doing.”

“And she came all the way here for that.” He raised an eyebrow, disbelief plain on his face. “Surely, a letter would have sufficed.”

Hannah’s mouth went dry. “My sister has always been a worrier.” An awkward chuckle next. “And with how this marriage came about, she simply wished to make sure that everything was fine. That is all.” A smile, a little over-the-top, a final effort to dismiss his questions. “Really, it was nothing.”

“Hannah.” His tone was sharp, as was his stare. “Tell me the truth.”

“You… you think I am lying?” She looked away, for to meet his eyes would be to let him see the lie.

“Are you?” He folded his arms over his chest and stepped further into the room, but was careful not to get too close. “I have a six-year-old, remember? I know when I am being lied to.”

“I…” She grimaced, still unable to look at him.

“Tell me,” he urged, his tone slightly softer. “Whatever it is, you should know there is nothing you cannot say to me. We are married. Your troubles are my own, and if there is something wrong…” he trailed off, for there was no need to finish the thought.

She forced herself to look at him, her stomach twisting with guilt, for it was not anger that she saw in his eyes but worry. Concern, even. He seemed to think that something was seriously wrong, and most strangely, he wanted to know. He wanted to help .

Again, Hannah was forced to admit that she knew little about the man who was her husband—a cold man, a harsh man… a caring man, it seemed. At least when he had to be.

She had not wanted to tell him this tonight. Oh, how she had tried to avoid it. Now she knew there was no point in lying further, even if she was beginning to feel rather foolish, dressed the way she was, for it looked like that would be a pointless endeavor.

“I was going to tell you,” she sighed.

“Tell me what?”

“I just did not want you to get upset.” She forced herself to look up and meet his eyes, so he might see how sorry she was. “That is why I did not say anything right away.”

“And why would I get upset?”

“It is my aunt,” she began carefully, grimacing as she considered how to phrase it. “It seems that she is still a little upset over what occurred between you and Selina.”

“Upset how?” A low growl rumbled in his chest.

“She is… According to my sister, she is going around the ton, telling people that it was Selina who canceled the wedding and not you.” She winced in anticipation of his outburst, but his set jaw and narrowed eyes told her that he was doing what he could to remain calm. “Further to that point, she did so for—well, according to my sister, she did so for many reasons. Mostly to do with the type of man that you are.”

“Go on,” he growled.

“And… and…” She hesitated, for she could feel the anger rolling off him in waves. “And she’s been telling people that our marriage was one of desperation. That you only agreed to it at the last minute to save face—but nobody is going to believe that,” she added quickly. “Surely, who would believe such a thing?”

Frederick did not respond right away. Standing in the middle of the room, his arms crossed, his eyes steely, he stared into the void, his jaw clenched, his foot tapping, his face turning red. She could see the cogs in his mind turning as he tried his best to remain calm… or so she thought.

“Your aunt… she is… she has gone too far.”

“And everyone will know it,” she assured him. “Anyone who has met my aunt will know that she is lying.”

“It does not matter,” he continued carefully, still looking past her. “Once the rumor is out there, it will gather momentum. Regardless of the folly.”

“Let it, then,” Hannah said. “Who cares what people think? It does not matter if they?—”

“Of course, it does!” Frederick snapped, and she flinched. “Of course, it matters! How can you think overwise?! Your aunt is slandering my name, smearing my reputation. Everyone who hears this—this filth!—even if they do not believe it, they will wonder. They will consider. They will talk ! True or not, the very fact that it is spoken of at all is a slight against me. And you, for that matter!”

He was seething, his face turning puce, his body shaking.

“Perhaps… perhaps if we were to… to disprove the rumor?” she tried next, her voice quivering. “If we tell people that we are happy and there is no truth to it. If we tell them the true reason why?—”

“I will not be drawn into a war of words with your aunt,” Frederick hissed. He was not angry with her, she knew, but that seemed irrelevant. “It is undignified and beneath me. My name alone should be enough that people do not question it!”

“And they won’t!”

“They will,” he seethed. “Or else your sister would not have come. No doubt she heard the rumor secondhand.”

“Then we visit my aunt together,” Hannah suggested. “If we speak to her and ask that she stop?—”

“Grovel? You wish for me to grovel at your aunt’s feet like… like some pauper?! Is that what you think of me?”

“I am just trying to help.”

“You are not helping!” he snarled, and again she flinched. “This entire thing…” He groaned and ran a hand through his hair as he began to pace. “This will only get worse. I know this town, these people. If there is any chance to drag down someone above them, they will not hesitate.”

“I am sorry,” she mumbled. “Truly. I am sorry, Frederick. This should not be happening.”

He shook his head, his back to her now. “This is your fault.” That stung. It felt like a slap in the face. Personal and purposefully mean. “If you had not come into my room that night…” Another shake of the head.

Hannah didn’t know what to say. What could she say? Frederick was spiraling, and she knew that any attempts to placate him would only make things worse. She wanted to go to him. To hold him. To tell him there was no need to be upset. A part of her still wondered if she should try to salvage the night, for surely it was not completely ruined?

“You should go,” he spoke, still not looking at her.

“G-go?” Her voice trembled. “But I can help. If you will just let me, I can?—”

“You have done enough,” he said acidly, still refusing to turn around and acknowledge her.

Hannah felt her world crashing down around her. All her hard work these past two days gone in an instant because of something that was not her doing. Yet, what could she even do? Nothing, it seemed. But if she walked out that door, she felt like that would be it—giving up, admitting that this marriage was as flimsy as it had seemed at first.

She half made to stand up and leave, only…

“No.” She stood up anyway, but she did not leave.

“Excuse me?” Frederick turned around, looking at her as if he had not understood. “What did you say?”

For all her attempts to seduce her husband, Hannah had forgotten what had brought them together in the first place. Their original attraction. That original fire that exploded when they were together. Born from bickering and arguing and a supposed dislike toward one another. Brewed in the cauldron of temperamental passion that had been lost these last few days.

If Hannah wished to seduce her husband once and for all, she knew now there was one sure-fire way to do it. This right here was nothing if not perfect.

“I said no, I am not leaving.” She crossed her arms under the blanket but raised an eyebrow at him, making sure he could see that she wasn’t about to back down. “And honestly, Frederick, if you think that I am going to just accept this disgusting treatment, then you have another thing coming.”

“Hannah…” He bared his teeth. “Now is not the time for this.”

“Oh, I am sorry. Is my unwillingness to be talked down to inconvenient? Heavens, how awful that must be for you.”

“You will remember that this is my home that you are?—”

“ Our home,” she hissed. “This is our home. Not yours. We are married. Or have you forgotten?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “I am in a mood right now, Hannah—tread lightly.”

“Or what?” she scoffed. “What will you do?”

“Do not test me.”

“Ha! It has occurred to me that all you are, Frederick, is hot air and bluster. A child throwing a tantrum. You do not get your way, so you kick and scream until somebody yields to your demands. Well, I am not somebody.”

“That is not…” The corner of his mouth twitched again, and she could see he was trying to hold back. “You should be grateful that all you have to face is my so-called kicking and screaming.”

“And to blame me?” she continued hotly. “When you were the one who forced my father to accept this marriage. You were the one who orchestrated this entire thing. One would think that by now, you would learn a little humility. That you would accept fault when it falls at your feet.”

“My fault? You were the one who?—”

“Asked you to leave the room as soon as I saw you. But you, the ego on your shoulders, refused! You were the one who made certain that we were caught the way we were. So, before you blame me , perhaps it is yourself whom you should focus on. But oh, wait, that would require you to accept blame for a damn change! And we cannot have that.”

“Careful, Hannah…”

She laughed. “Again, empty threats!”

They stood perhaps five feet apart. Frederick was only half-turned away from her, as if not facing her was a means to keep his wrath in check. But she could see him stirring, his body shaking. Each jibe, each barb she hurled at him slowly pierced through his ice-cold fa?ade, exposing the raw emotions beneath.

She made sure to fix him with a scathing glare, standing, not backing down, willing him to explode as she knew he wanted to. What would happen from there, she was not sure. But her heart raced with the thrill of desire, a sense that if this was to lead where she was expecting, where she sensed it would, that she might not mind so much.

“They will not be empty for long.”

“And if you throw me out, what then? You have already said you refuse to rise to my aunt’s bait, so what? Bury your head in the sand and hope that your name saves you? I know you will not fight, for the fight left you a long time ago.”

“Careful…”

His growl reverberated through the room—Hannah felt it in her chest. She half-stumbled, her body quivering from it.

Her husband was a big man. A giant in this small room. He turned further to face her, bearing down on her in a way she liked more than she would admit. She forced herself to straighten up and glared at him.

“Or what?”

“I told you what.”

“You’re going to throw me out? I would like to see you try.”

“Do not tempt me.”

“I tempt.” She laughed coldly. “I tempt knowing that there is nothing you will do. You will not touch me, remember? A man might. But you, husband, are certainly not?—”

He crossed to her in a flash, and she gasped as he was on her. His large hand grabbed the blanket around her shoulders and tugged at it. She let go, allowing it to be pulled off her near-naked body.

Frederick stumbled back, blanket in hand. It took him a moment to realize what had happened. His eyes moved from the blanket to her near-naked form, his brow furrowed, the anger inside him still there… a building passion that grew as he drank her in.

Hannah felt exposed and utterly defenseless, like a deer cornered in the wild. But she did not falter, pushing her chest out and holding his gaze, licking her lips and curling them as if to bite him.

A moment passed between them, frozen in time as he took her in and she welcomed his gaze. He wanted to remain angry. He wanted to remain furious with her. But the sight of her near-naked body had the desired effect—it did not calm the beast within, but unleashed it.

Without another word, he crossed to her again, dropping the blanket as he went. He cupped her face in his hands, pulled her in, and kissed her as if his life depended on it.

It was not their first kiss, but it felt like it. A dying fire being re-lit. Lightning striking a lone-standing tree. That breath one takes when they breach the surface of the water, thinking themselves near death only for life to embrace them. It shot through Hannah’s body, struck her heart, had her gasping even as she moved her lips to better kiss her husband.

He gripped the side of her face as he ravished her. His lips parting her own, his tongue darting into her mouth and tasting her. He bit her lower lip next, tugged at it with his teeth, and then kissed her all the harder. She had sensed the beast unraveling inside him, but she’d had no idea what that meant until now.

And oh, how she loved it.

The way he kissed and held her, she could feel his suppressed desire finally springing forth. The way he had resisted her. The way he had held back. Totally uninhibited now, he held her so she could not leave him, kissing her mouth, moving down and licking and nipping her neck…

He dragged her to his bed and then sat down, his hands quickly sliding under her thighs and lifting her onto his lap so that she was straddling him. His lips trailed down her neck as his hands gripped her waist and squeezed. Her head tipped to the side, giving him more access, and his hands moved up until they wrapped around her breasts.

“Urgh…” she moaned as he licked down her chest, pulling down her slip and exposing her breasts. “Frederick—urgh!” she yelped as his lips found a nipple, biting and sucking on it like a starved child.

His lips then moved to her other breast and lavished the same attention on it.. His hands slid under her buttocks and squeezed them roughly. He then began to move his hips, coaxing her to gyrate hers, already able to feel his member stiffening.

Hannah thought to speak. To ask what to do. But she feared to break the momentum, to remind him of what he was doing. So she stayed silent, letting her moans do the talking.

She gasped as his hand slid between her legs, his fingers tracing her inner thighs until they found her nether lips. One finger gently stroked her, testing and teasing before slipping inside. She let out another gasp and buried her face in his neck, but he fisted his hand in her hair and tugged as he continued to stroke her sex.

“Ah… yes… right…. ah…” she moaned, biting his shoulder. “Do not stop.”

“Do not tell me what to do,” he growled.

“You a-are not in charge of me,” she stammered as his finger continued to stroke her, massaging her bud, making her body shake as it had just last night.

“Would you like a bet?”

He pulled back and looked right at her, his eyes flashing with lust. She met them with a steely gaze, as if in a warning. He smirked, growled, and then, suddenly, he stood up, lifting her with him. He turned around and dropped her back onto the bed, where he hovered over her.

His mouth found her neck and breasts again. Each lick sent a pulse to her sex. Every suck had her shaking and spasming and begging for more. As he sucked on her nipples, his hands fiddled with the buttons of his pants, undoing them. Then he pushed them down his legs and stepped out of them.

Her eyes widened as they landed on his throbbing member. Not knowing what to do, but knowing what he wanted, she reached down and wrapped her hand around it. His body went stiff, and he groaned.

“Oh God…”

“Like this?” she asked as she twisted her hand, stroking him up and down.

“Just like that. Do not… stop…”

She flashed him a wicked smile. “Do not tell me what to do.”

Hannah knew what was coming next, for there could only be one thing. With Frederick on top of her. With her legs wrapped around him. With his member hard and throbbing in her hand, and her sex wet and ready, there could be but one thing.

Frederick pulled back for a moment. His hand stroked her waist as he looked down at her. No words spoken, but a raised eyebrow as if in question. She nodded, suddenly feeling nervous yet infinitely excited.

Shaking, quivering, wanting what she did not know, Hannah spread her legs further. Frederick lowered himself between her thighs and lined himself up with her entrance.

“Ah…” She gasped. “That… stop… don’t… yes… keep going…”

She felt him slide inside her inch by inch. Opening her, burrowing in deeply as she accepted him. She felt a slight discomfort at first, but she soon relaxed as he fell forward, thrusting slowly until he was buried to the hilt inside her.

Ten minutes ago, he refused to touch her, and now he was inside her. This marriage, she knew, would never be the same again.

Frederick held her down as he thrust into her. Slowly at first, sliding out of her and then all the way back in. She gasped at the sensation, moaned and quivered as her heart raced and her breathing quickened. He started moving faster then, harder, greater thrusts that had the bed shaking. She wrapped her legs around his back, she ground her hips against him, and she screamed to let him know how good it felt.

She could feel him pulsating and throbbing inside her. She could feel his body begin to shake. No expert on marital copulation, even Hannah knew what was about to happen. She took his face and kissed him as he continued to thrust into her, wanting him to spill inside her.

Only then, suddenly, he pulled out of her.

“Wh—” She followed him, but he pushed her back down.

“Stay there,” he commanded as his hand wrapped around his member. His eyes drank her in, and he licked his lips as he stroked himself. “Do not even think of moving.”

“What are you…”

“Do… not… urgh!”

His body spasmed and then stiffened as his white, hot, sticky seed spilled all over the inside of her thigh.

Again, Hannah knew what was supposed to happen, and this certainly wasn’t it. As good as it had all been, that final moment felt strange to her, a signal that things were not quite as perfect as they might be.

But she did not say anything, as Frederick then fell down beside her, wrapped her in his arms, and kissed her on the lips and neck and cheek.

“That was… unexpected,” he panted, half-chuckling to himself. “Most unexpected.”

She frowned, still feeling the sticky mess on her inner thigh. “Most,” she muttered, not sure what else to say.

At best, she told herself that this was a step in the right direction at least and that clearly her husband’s resolve not to touch her had finally shattered. At worst… they were still not a perfectly married couple.

Oh sure, things might never be the same, and for that she was grateful. Her body was still hot. Shaking. Her heart was racing. Her breathing was slowly returning to normal. And in his arms, she felt happier than she had ever been.

But that mess on her inner thigh… what it signified spoke volumes.