How to Seduce a Bride

Chapter Twenty-One

They raced back home, gave their horses to a stable boy, and arm in arm, went into the house. The butler met them at the door. Leland nodded to him, and led Daisy into the hall. A footman there told him the housekeeper had a question about the dinner menu, and then blushed scarlet. And two maids on the stairs paused to gaze at them round-eyed.

Leland stopped in the hall and sighed. “The look on my face gave me away,” he whispered to his bride. “There were times when this home’s hospitality was ill used,” he explained. In those times, he thought, he’d have gone upstairs with a woman he desired despite how many of his servants saw him. But this was different. This was his bride. And the look on her face now told him it had to be different.

There wasn’t any way that he could take her to their room now without the whole household knowing. He saw that knowledge in her eyes, and realized that must have been like cold water on the fire that he’d lit in her. Because she’d stopped laughing.

But she was obviously determined. She gazed at him with gravity. “Well, we’re here,” she said. “Shall we get on with it?”

All laughter had fled; she was sober, actually steely now. So she’d resolved to take him on, he thought. Gads! He’d assumed a difficult task.

Daffyd and Geoff had told him more about their experiences in the Antipodes than the woman he’d just married ever had done. He’d been content to wait for her to relax and trust him in time. One thing was coming clear, though. That brute of a husband had almost ruined her for lovemaking. The operative word was “almost.” Her new husband was determined to change that, because he felt-he knew-he had to believe-she wanted to change it, too. He’d felt the hidden fire in her.

He’d never wanted a wife who would simply endure him. He could have married any number of well-brought-up young women who would do that. They were trained to. Not only had he met too many eager to learn more from other men after they’d presented their husbands an heir, but too often such women could never be brought to joy. Nor had he wanted a wife who was wildly profligate. He’d had a mother who had ruined too many lives with her appetites. Still, to marry a woman who dreaded the marriage bed because of what she’d experienced there? But he was ever a man for a challenge.

“Then let’s continue this discussion upstairs,” he said. He signaled to his butler. “What we’d like,” he told the man, “is an assortment of Cook’s cakes. I especially like the little ones, with currants. Can we have them brought upstairs? And bring up a few bottles of champagne from the cellar too. The ’94, the ones without tax stamps, from France. We’ve been married three days, we wish to celebrate. Now,” he told Daisy, as the butler, smiling, left. “We’ll have ourselves a revel.”

Her eyes widened, but she swallowed hard, and went up the stairs with him.

She was laughing in an hour. They’d had champagne, and Leland was telling her about some incident at a revel when he’d been at Cambridge. He’d changed to his silken robe, and seemed comfortable, sitting and spinning stories for her. He was a wonderful storyteller.

She sat on their high bed, cross-legged, her pink gown making a pretty contrast to the peach coverlets. When he finished his last story, she pummeled the coverlets with a fist and groaned with laughter. Her hair had come loose from its ribbon, and it framed her face with rosy gold curls. Her smile was radiant; she wasn’t intoxicated, merely merry.

“No more,” he said when she held out her glass for champagne again. “You’re feeling too lovely.”

“I am not!” she protested.

“Then get angry with me. See if you can.”

She collapsed into giggles. “You’re right! How can I be mad at someone who gives me such delicious cakes and wine?” She raised her head and peeped at him through errant curls. “I’m not tipsy, I’m just happy. This reminds me of the days before I was sent away, when I’d visit with my friends and sometimes stay overnight at their cottages. We’d tell stories and giggle until dawn. My friends,” she said wistfully. “I wonder what happened to them. After my father and I were arrested, I never heard from them again.”

She sat up straighter. “Too bad for them, right?” she said, tossing her head to clear the curls from her eyes. “I made friends back in Port Jackson. They call it Botany Bay, but no one can live there. We stayed at Port Jackson. And I did have friends there, too. But we never laughed so much. There are people with tales sadder than mine,” she said seriously. “And now,” she said on a deep breath, “I don’t intend ever to be sad again.”

“I’ll try to ensure that you never are,” he said. “That, at least, I can promise.”

He rose from the chair he’d been sitting in, and came to sit beside her. He drained the last of his champagne, then paused and held up the empty glass, scrutinizing it. “They say that these were made from molds of the breasts of Marie Antoinette,” he mused.

From the corner of his eye, he saw her eyes widen. “But I also heard they’re modeled after those of Diane de Poitiers, mistress of our Henry the Second. I also heard that Paris took a mold of Helen of Troy’s bounty, and that’s where they come from. Odd, that so many lovely breasts figure in stories about one simple glass, don’t you think?

She eyed the glass carefully. She took it from him, and suddenly clapped it over her own right breast. Now his eyes widened.

“Phoo,” she said, looking down to see that the glass didn’t encompass half of her breast. “That doesn’t speak well for me. I couldn’t fit in one of these. Or even two put together. Well, maybe two put together. What do you think?

“Oh! Your face,” she exclaimed, laughing again, and clapping her hands. “I’ve finally done it! I’ve shocked you! And here you were, trying to scandalize me. Don’t deny it. You’ve been telling warmer and warmer stories… why, that’s what happens when you drink too much,” she said. “Did you know that?”

“Possibly,” he said, taking the glass from where she’d put it on the bed, and placing it on the night-stand. “But actually, I was trying to warm you up. Seduce you, that is. There are some who say that warm talk enlivens a woman wonderfully.”

He traced one finger along her collarbone, then leaned forward and brushed his lips along it. His hand trailed down toward her breast, his lips following. “I wouldn’t want to put this lovely article in a glass,” he murmured against her skin, as his finger pulled down the neckline of her gown. “There are far better things to do with it.”

He cupped her now exposed breast and brought his mouth to the puckered rosy tip. “Much better,” he murmured.

She sat still, feeling too much to know what to say as he put his tongue to her breast, and then his lips again. Tanner had sometimes squeezed her breasts in lust, or pinched her there as a jest, but he’d never done this. This was extravagantly delicious, it overcame her; she couldn’t assess her feelings.

He raised his head to see her expression.

“This is good, isn’t it?” he asked.

“It’s too good, I didn’t know…”

He silently cursed the dead man who had obviously never treated her with any tenderness, even in lust. “Oh, it gets better,” he said as he gathered her in his arms.

He kissed her gently, his palm over the breast he’d abandoned, so that the air couldn’t chill her. They sat on the high bed and he stroked and kissed her, touching his tongue to hers. She sighed into his mouth. Her hands went to his head and she held him so she could drink deeper. Her skin warmed; he could feel her heart racing against his. She moaned, low in her throat. That was what did it. She heard herself and woke from the sensual spell he’d been weaving.

He felt her body stiffen. He drew away.

“What?” he asked.

She shook her head; he could see frustrated tears springing to her eyes. “Don’t stop,” she said angrily. “I can’t help it, ignore it, go on.”

“In a pig’s eye,” he said. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. I just thought of what we’d do. Pay it no mind. I’ll get over it.”

“Get over what?”

“Dreading,” she said, and then cursed in a way that made his eyebrows go up. He was impressed.

“It’s fine when I feel,” she said furiously. “But when I think, it all stops. It must be because I always had to think before, with Tanner. Whenever he came to me. Because I couldn’t bear to feel. Now, when I want it the other way ’round, this happens. Damnation!” she swore, balling her hand to a fist and pounding the bed, “I didn’t know it or I’d never have married you, or anyone! Do you believe me?”

“Oh, yes,” he said. He thought for a moment, trying to rein in his senses, so he could make sense. “Well,” he finally said, “there are several ways we can fix this. Believe me, it can be and will be remedied. Now, let’s see the best way to do it. We can feed you a whole bottle of champagne and open another. Then you won’t be thinking at all.” He frowned. “But the problem is that if we get you drunk enough you won’t remember how good it was with us, and we’ll have to start all over again next time.”

She smiled, but it was a small, sad smile.

“Or,” he said, “we can put you in charge. That’s it! You won’t have to think of anything but what you want me to do next.”

“What?” she said.

He cocked his head to the side. “Of course, there’s the distinct possibility that you won’t know what you want. But that can be sorted out, too. I’ll tell you in advance. Or show you, and you can judge. How does that sound?”

She stared at him.

“Shall I tell you your options?” he asked, smiling.

She bowed her head into her hands. “Oh,” she whispered in an agony of self-loathing, “why do you put up with me?”

“Because,” he said softly, “I love you. I thought you knew that.”

She looked up at him.

He gathered her close in his arms. “Nothing could be worse than not knowing what’s going to happen,” he told her. “I should have realized that sooner. Sometimes talking about such things can be lovely. Did you know there are some people who would rather talk about it than do it? Well, not you or I, but I think talking can ease our way. Let me tell you what’s possible. Remember, you will have your choice.”

And then he spoke to her about making love, the things they could do together. He described those things in soft words, delicious words, wooing her with how he phrased them. Nothing he said sounded wrong. He punctuated each lesson with a kiss, and told her about things she’d heard of, but had been grateful Tanner never asked of her. Now, listening to her new husband’s husky, entrancing voice, as he sat next to her with his arms around her, trying to seduce her into a deeper embrace, she found she wanted to try everything he spoke of.

Only once, she stopped him, her eyes wide. “Good women do that?” she asked in wonder.

“The best women do that,” he assured her. “And I, of course, would do similar, only different, of course, for you. Would you like to hear about that?”

“No,” she said.

He stopped breathing, and silently cursed himself for a fool, to think a woman who had been hurt by a man could be lured by words that told her about what she must think of as only further indignity. He was wondering how to repair the damage, thinking frantically of what to do next, when she pulled his head down to hers, and kissed him.

“Don’t you want to hear more?” he asked, when he could, though he felt that if he waited longer his heart would surely pound out of his chest.

“Show me now,” she said against his mouth. “Please.”

He did.

This time, she didn’t pull away. Not when he kissed her mouth, or when his lips sought her throat, or her breasts. Certainly not when he finally helped her out of her thin gown, which she suddenly found too tight, too warm, and far too concealing.

She paused only once. “Take off your robe,” she whispered. “I want to know what you were talking about, Lee. Oh, I do so want to know.”

“At your service, my lady,” he said. “So do I.” He opened his robe and flung it away.

He cupped her bottom so he could hold her closer against himself, laid her against the pillows, and followed her down to the bed. She felt his excitement, and wasn’t afraid; she was too busy learning how amazing kisses could be and reveling in his caresses.

She wanted to know what he tasted like, she had to touch him as he was touching her, not because it was only fair, but because she had to. He obliged her, as, body to body, they sought each other.

Only once did she startle, when he touched her as no man had ever done before. It felt too wonderful; she was as shocked as thrilled. His hands were gentle; she didn’t even worry when she felt one long finger begin to explore her intimately. She only wanted more. But he stopped when he felt her body leap.

“No, no,” she murmured disjointedly, her face buried in his neck, “Don’t stop, don’t. It’s just that it’s so good and I never knew.”

“Know now,” he breathed in her ear, and kissed her as he went on touching her.

She shivered with pleasure and then gasped for breath, as she felt a spasm of pleasure she’d never imagined. He waited until she realized she wanted even more.

It was more than he’d hoped. She was all fire, and now, all readiness. But she’d obviously listened to what he’d said.

She reached for him. “My choice,” she breathed. “I want the same for you. Like this?” she asked as she finally gently measured his length in her hands. The size and power of him astonished her. He went very still.

For one second, before he answered, she wondered if she’d gone too far, or not far enough. She’d only touched Tanner when he’d been too drunk and unable; when he’d commanded her to ready him, and do it fast. She didn’t want to mishandle this man.

“Any way you touch me is right,” he breathed. “That’s good, that’s fine, that’s perfect, yes.”

He finally stopped her, and moved over her. “That’s wonderful,” he said. “But there’s something even better.”

She lay back, trusting him. He kissed her before he probed her intimately again. He couldn’t believe his luck. She was ready, and she was, at last, greatly willing.

Slowly, carefully, though he was afraid he’d perish if he didn’t hurry, he entered her. She sighed, and shivered, and stretched her whole body beneath his, accepting him, moving to accommodate him.

He moved with her, glorying in the heat and sweetness of her, murmuring love words into her ear, holding back because he’d be damned if he’d leave her before he satisfied her, even if his heart burst from the effort.

And then she finally rose against him and shuddered, gasped, then shuddered again and again. Only then did he allow himself to join her in ecstasy, crying out her name as he did.

They lay quiet. Her body still quivered from the vastness of the sensations she’d experienced. He was totally fulfilled, and yet, still yearning. His hand stroked her hair where she lay now, against his heart.

She was the one to speak first. “Thank you,” she said. “I never knew how I could feel. This was nothing like… Oh, thank you.”

He could feel her lips curl against his chest as she smiled.

“Now I don’t wonder at your reputation of a seducer,” she said.

His hand stilled in her hair. “No,” he said softly. “In fact, I never seduced anyone before. What a revelation. What an oversight. I didn’t know what I was missing. It was lovely. Thank you, my love.”

She didn’t answer, but he felt a drop of moisture fall from her eyes.

“Here now,” he said, pulling her up so he could wipe that tear away. “No more of that! We can make love in the water, it’s actually quite entrancing, or so I’ve heard. But not now.”

She giggled, then she laughed.

He joined in. “Now,” he said. “Shall we get on with our lessons?”

“You can?” she asked in wonder.

“Well, I think so. Care to help me try?”

“I’m so glad we came in from the maze,” she said a moment later. “Imagine if anyone had stumbled on us doing this?”

“They wouldn’t have,” he answered absently. “I gave orders to keep everyone away.”

She drew back. “Oh, you cheat!” she cried. She caught up a pillow to swat him, then she lowered it. “Thank you,” she said, and stilled his laughter with a kiss.