Page 27 of The Duke’s Indecent Scandal (Indecent Dukes #1)

Chapter Twenty-Six

G regory

By Gregory’s reckoning, after receiving their guests, they would need to stay for at least another half hour before he could shove Tiffany into the carriage again and make haste for Clarence House. There was a particularly memorable wedding breakfast some years ago where the Earl of Spencer threw his bride over his shoulder and carried her out of their wedding breakfast…

Unfortunately, as a duke marrying a duke’s sister, Gregory had a feeling the ton would be more scandalized than amused. The higher one’s place in Society, the more certain social mores had to be adhered to. Could he and Tiffany weather the ton’s reaction? Of course. They were duke and duchess, after all.

But he did not want her to begin their marriage by weathering more scandalous behavior from him. Especially considering how their engagement had come about. However, he also refused to do the pretty for the ton for more than the bare minimum today.

Sebastian could not keep them apart now that they were married, and Gregory wanted to get his hands all over her. The taste he’d had in the carriage had not been nearly enough, as he’d known it would not be, but he had not been able to help himself, even knowing he was setting himself up for frustration.

There was plenty of time for passion to simmer and settle as their families arrived, then they got into the position for the receiving line. He was acutely aware of Tiffany by his side, smiling and greeting their guests with aplomb. He was even more aware of the way she sagged with relief once their duty was done, and he took her arm to lead her inside.

They took a moment for the train on Tiffany’s dress to be removed—if he’d known that was possible, he might have tried to do that in the carriage; it would certainly have given him more room to maneuver—before entering their reception. Keeping her on his arm, they circulated among the guests.

Gregory was amused to see Matthew surreptitiously looking at young ladies and flipping his coin before brightening when it finally landed on heads, which had him approaching a young miss Gregory did not recognize. Mentally, he wished his friend good luck, though it was likely the Lord of Luck did not actually need it. Nathanial, of course, was already surrounded by young ladies with huge dowries, though from the hunted expression on his face, such a surplus was not actually assisting him in his search for the right bride for him.

Lady Louisa had immediately claimed Sebastian’s attention, assisted by their mothers. Sebastian looked nearly as pained as Nathanial, despite only having one young lady to deal with. The addition of his mother’s pressure was likely the cause of his strain.

“How long do we have to stay?” Tiffany asked in a whisper, clinging to his arm, making Gregory grin. His bride was as eager to decamp as he was.

“Another quarter of an hour… we should get something to eat.” She was going to need her strength once he got her to himself.

She nodded and followed his lead over to the refreshments table. Christian was there, flirting with a small bevy of young ladies. He grinned rakishly and winked, causing a fluttering of fans from his admiring crowd. Their mamas were nearby, keeping close watch. Christian was a duke, but he was also a rake, and his reputation was among the worst of their set. Especially since he had not bothered to hide his association with his actress.

As he and Tiffany filled their plates, Drake and Lady Astrid approached. They walked together, though she did not take his arm, which was causing some consternation among the gossips. Neither of them seemed to care. Lady Astrid smiled as she greeted Tiffany.

“The dress is perfection. You set the whole ton back on its heels,” Lady Astrid said, her eyes alight with a kind of wicked enjoyment. “I look forward to seeing the rest of your trousseau in action.”

“I am looking forward to wearing it,” Tiffany admitted. Gregory frowned. If the rest of her trousseau showed her off as well as her wedding dress did…

Recently married, a purported love match, she should be safe from the wolves of the ton. At least until he stopped showing interest. Then they would descend en masse , a slavering horde ready to warm the bed her husband had left cold. Even if Tiffany was not the type to take a lover, that would not stop them from trying, and if temptation continued to beckon… The obvious solution was to never stop showing interest and keep the rakes and roués at bay by always warming her bed.

At the moment, he was certain that would be no hardship.

Drake gave him a look as the two ladies chatted, which made Gregory feel as though he knew exactly what his friend was thinking. He suddenly wondered if part of Drake’s hesitation in going before the altar with Lady Astrid was for similar reasons. For now, Lady Astrid was spoken for and a virginal debutante. Once they were married, Drake would have to cleave to her or contend with the men who would come flocking to her beauty, wit, and charm.

“Where is Zachary?” he asked Drake, in part to distract himself and in part out of genuine curiosity, as he was the only one of their friends Gregory had not spotted.

“In the corner, brooding,” Drake replied, nodding his head to the other side of the room. Gregory turned to see that Zachary was scowling, and his temper was likely being sorely tested because the current Northumberland had decided to join him there. Considering how close Zachary had been to his predecessor, the incumbent duke would do well to leave Zachary alone and cease his toadying. Unfortunately, the man did not seem to have the social savvy or self-preservation to realize the danger he was putting himself in.

“What happened?”

“The Baroness Ashfield left the Harrington’s soiree last night with Conyngham.”

Gregory shook his head. Poor Zachary.

Though, perhaps her moving on with a new lover would finally allow him to break free of his emotional attachment.

Personally, Gregory was rather enjoying his own attachment to his bride.

Speaking of which… he looked over as she finished eating the pastry that had been on her plate, her eyes sparkling brightly as she spoke with Lady Astrid. It seemed the two of them had become true friends, which he was glad to see. However, he could not wait any longer.

He turned back to Drake.

“Well, unfortunate as that is for Zachary, I have my own bride that needs tending, and I find I cannot wait any longer.” He grinned as Drake raised his eyebrow.

What better way to confirm to the ton that they truly were a love match than whisking his bride away from their wedding breakfast as quickly as possible? Doing so also served his own purposes, his own needs. In truth of fact, he was feeling somewhat akin to Zachary and his obsession, but Gregory had had the good sense to marry the object of his.

Now, he would get to reap the reward.

Tiffany

“There is something I need to tell you, before you go,” Tiffany’s mother said when Tiffany was finished with the necessary. Gregory had made it clear he wanted to go, and Tiffany had gone to the retiring room before they could leave. Her mother had followed her, to her surprise. She had not been sure what her mother wanted since she had waited silently until Tiffany was finished.

“Yes, mother?” Tiffany felt almost like going up on her toes, hopeful that her mother might finally acknowledge that Tiffany looked beautiful today. That she might finally repeat the compliment Tiffany had heard over and over again—how she’d blossomed, how she’d turned into a true beauty, how fashionably flattering her wedding gown was.

She knew her mother had been unhappy with the changes made, but she hoped the opinion of the rest of Society had softened the blow to her mother’s unhappiness at having her own decisions upended.

“It is about your wedding night, or perhaps afternoon, as it seems your new husband is pressing for… though I suppose he is trying to ensure everyone truly believes you two are a love match.” Her mother sniffed.

Tiffany’s hopes dropped, though they did not entirely dissipate. Her chest squeezed at the reminder that the basis of her marriage was scandal, not love, and the second was just a shield to hide the first.

“So perhaps once you are alone, he will wait for tonight, but eventually, he will come to your bed, and you need to be prepared.”

The way her mother said it sent alarm through Tiffany, as if her mother was trying to warn her against some portending doom. On the other side of that, she had the memory of Gregory in the library and the way he’d made her feel. She knew there would be more, though she was not entirely sure of the specifics or what it might be like, but she was rather eager to find out.

“Prepared?” she asked.

“For the pain.” Her mother lifted her chin, hands smoothing over the front of her skirts. Her eyes flashed, and there was something in her voice, more than sincerity, almost as though she found satisfaction in bearing this news to Tiffany. “Bedding is a terrible pain, especially the first time, but you must do your duty to your husband and bear it.”

“What kind of pain?” Tiffany did not bother to hide her alarm. She could hear the sincerity in her voice.

“A ripping kind of pain on your insides.” Her mother put her hand on her lower stomach. “You will likely bleed as well. But it is necessary to the begetting of an heir. Men enjoy such things. If you are lucky, he will only do it a few times, then he will seek a mistress or lover to inflict his passions on.”

That did not sound lucky to Tiffany.

Emotions warred within her. Her mother was too gleeful to be lying, yet… Gregory had never hurt Tiffany before. She could not imagine him enjoying her ripping pain or causing her to bleed. If anything, her pleasure had been at the center of how he’d touched her… though perhaps he was trying to prepare her for the worst.

Yet, even that did not make sense.

“Why does it not hurt mistresses or lovers?” she asked. Her mother’s eyes flashed, angry that Tiffany was questioning her, and she quickly explained. “I am sorry, I just do not understand. Is there a difference?”

“You do not need to understand,” her mother snapped. “It is inappropriate to speak of such things. You are lucky I cared enough to warn you; not every mother does. But I could not bear it if you went to your wedding bed unprepared, only to find agony waiting for you.” She lifted her chin up. “That is all I will say on the matter.”

True to her word, Tiffany’s mother swept out of the room before Tiffany could retire, leaving Tiffany shaken, but…

Her mother had a lover. She knew her mother did. She might not be sure it was the Duke of Grafton’s uncle, but she was certain her mother had one.

That meant that, at some point, the pain must end. She could not imagine her mother doing something that caused her painful agony on a regular basis when she did not have to.

There must be some benefit to it, at least, beyond bearing children.

Yet, her mother had also been very sure it would hurt. She could feel the certainty her mother had projected all the way down to her bones.

Obviously, she could not ask her mother to explain more. The idea of asking Sebastian made her blanch. Lady Astrid was not married, so she had no real experience. The Duchess—now Dowager Duchess—of Clarence? She might not tell Tiffany the truth since it was her own son who would be doing the deed… besides, Tiffany could not imagine approaching the older woman with such a delicate subject. If her own mother would not speak of it to her, she could not expect her husband’s mother to do so.

She would have to ask Gregory and hope he told her the truth. Though she could not imagine what it would benefit him to lie when she would experience the truth for herself shortly. Besides, she trusted him.

If he told her it would hurt…

There was some part of her—the part that had dared to question her mother—that wondered if her mother was deliberately misleading her. The same way she had misled Tiffany about her clothing. She could not imagine why her mother would want to do such a thing, yet she could not forget the rage in her mother’s eyes when Tiffany had appeared in her altered wedding gown this morning.

She could not shake loose the hurt that her mother was the only person to neglect to compliment her appearance today. Perhaps it was vain, as her mother would likely accuse her of being, but why could she not have one compliment from her own mother on her own wedding day? Lady Tremaine had been full of flattery. Gregory’s mother had been effusive in her praise.

Why not her own mother?

Tiffany had devoted her life to trying to make her mother proud, and today, she had reached the pinnacle achievement and married a duke, yet her mother was still unhappy with her.

Was it just her mother’s desire for control? Or… It was beginning to feel as though her mother was deliberately undermining her, though she could not understand why her mother would do such a thing. She did not even want to think about it, if she was being honest, because it hurt too much to think her mother would be so deliberately cruel. That her mother really did hate her, the way she sometimes feared. She always told herself she was imagining things, being too sensitive to the way her mother told her she was.

And yet…

The gleeful look in her mother’s eye when she told Tiffany that being bedded would be painful would not disappear from Tiffany’s memory, no matter how she wished it would.

Putting her hand on her own stomach, Tiffany tried to remember the pleasure that Gregory had given her. The light in his eyes when he said he wanted to see her wearing nothing but the sapphires and diamonds she now wore. Her body tingled at the memory, quivered in anticipation…

However, she could not entirely put away her consternation or her growing fear.