Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

" W elcome. I'm so delighted you could join me today," the Dowager Duchess of Newden greeted them warmly, her eyes twinkling with mischief as they entered her parlor.

The parlor was adorned with rich draperies and ornate furnishings, the perfect backdrop for the painting that took center stage. The light from the tall windows glanced off the canvas, drawing Kenneth's attention immediately.

Beatrice smiled, curtsying gracefully. "Thank you for the invitation, Duchess. We're honored to be here."

The Dowager Duchess waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, nonsense, my dear. It's I who am honored to have such a lovely couple grace my home. Now, do come and see the new Westback painting. It's quite extraordinary."

She led them to the painting. Kenneth stood before it, his breath catching in his throat.

The play of light and shadow, the intricate details of the coast, and the delicate brushstrokes that captured the essence of the scene—all of it spoke to him on a profound level.

"How do you find it, Duke?" the Dowager Duchess asked, standing beside him with a warm smile.

"This is a significant improvement," Kenneth observed, his voice tinged with awe. "The light and shadows are far more balanced. This is the work of an artist who truly evolves."

The Dowager Duchess beamed with pleasure. "I'm glad you think so. Lady Bernmere and I were just discussing how talented this Westback fellow is. Such a mystery, though, don't you think? He continues to be mysterious, not disclosing where this beach is. He must love riddles, this artist."

Kenneth nodded, noticing a man on horseback in the background. The figure was small, almost an afterthought, yet it added a layer of depth and mystery to the scene.

Turning to Beatrice, the Dowager Duchess asked, "And what about you, Duchess? What do you think of the painting?"

Beatrice, who had been staring at Kenneth with an unreadable emotion in her eyes, stepped forward. "I believe it doesn't truly matter where this beach is," she began, her voice soft but clear. "What matters is where it transports each viewer. The emotions it evokes, the memories it stirs. That's the true beauty of art."

The Dowager Duchess clapped her hands in delight. "Beautifully said! You have such a keen eye and a way with words. Doesn't she, Duke?"

Kenneth, captivated by Beatrice's words and the depth of her understanding, simply nodded. "Indeed."

The Dowager Duchess's eyes sparkled with mirth. "I must say, you two make quite the pair. Tell me, how are you finding married life? Lady Bernmere and I are always eager for a bit of gossip."

Beatrice glanced at Kenneth, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "It's been… an adjustment, Duchess. But we're learning more about each other every day."

The Dowager Duchess smiled knowingly. "Of course, of course. Marriage is always a learning experience. Speaking of which, Thomas and Catherine are so excited about the upcoming addition to the family. I don't suppose you have any similar news to share?"

Beatrice's blush deepened, and Kenneth cleared his throat uncomfortably. "No, Duchess. We're… we're taking things one step at a time."

The Dowager Duchess waved her hand, chuckling. "Ah, well, there's no rush. But do keep me informed, won't you? I do so love good news."

Sensing the couple's discomfort, she changed the subject. "Now, shall we have some tea and discuss this painting further? I'm curious to hear more of your thoughts, Duchess."

As they moved to the seating area, Kenneth couldn't help but steal another glance at Beatrice. As she engaged in a lively discussion about art with the Dowager Duchess, her passion and intelligence shining through, he felt a growing admiration for her.

Perhaps, he thought, there was more to their marriage than just a practical arrangement. Perhaps, with time and understanding, it could turn into something more.

After returning to their townhouse and freshening up, Kenneth suggested a walk in the gardens to enjoy the evening air. Beatrice readily agreed, and they made their way outside, the city's hustle and bustle fading into the background as they entered the serene gardens.

The evening air was perfumed with the delicate scent of blooming flowers. The soft rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze created a soothing ambiance, enveloping them in a world of their own.

Kenneth found himself irresistibly drawn to Beatrice, his gaze lingering on her as she walked beside him.

The way her brow furrowed slightly when she was lost in thought, as if pondering the mysteries of the universe, captivated him. Her slender fingers traced absent patterns on her gown, their graceful movements a mesmerizing dance that sent shivers down his spine. Every little gesture, every subtle expression, pulled him deeper under her spell.

Unable to hold back any longer, Kenneth broke the comfortable silence that had settled between them.

"Beatrice," he said softly, her name a gentle caress on his lips, "the way you speak about art is absolutely enchanting. Your comments about the painting were not only profound but also incredibly moving."

Beatrice looked up at him, her eyes widening slightly in surprise. A delicate blush bloomed on her cheeks, making her even more breathtaking in the fading light of dusk.

"Thank you, Kenneth," she replied, her voice soft and filled with warmth. "It means a great deal to me that you find my thoughts so meaningful."

Kenneth nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He felt a surge of admiration for this remarkable woman who could express herself with such passion and grace.

"Seeing your love and knowledge for art come alive as you speak is truly impressive. It's like watching a master artist paint a canvas with words, each brushstroke revealing a new depth of understanding."

As they continued their stroll through the gardens, Kenneth couldn't tear his eyes away from her. The moonlight bathed her in a soft glow, making her look ethereal, almost otherworldly. The air between them was charged with an undeniable tension, and he knew he couldn't resist any longer.

"Beatrice," he whispered, his voice thick with desire.

She turned to him, her eyes wide and questioning.

Before she could say a word, he stepped closer, his hand gently cupping her cheek. He leaned in, his breath warm against her skin, and pressed his lips to hers in a slow, deliberate kiss.

Beatrice responded to his kiss with equal fervor, her hands sliding up to grip his shoulders. Kenneth deepened the kiss, his arms encircling her waist and pulling her closer.

The scent of blooming flowers and the rustling leaves seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the sound of their breathing and the pounding of their hearts.

He broke the kiss, his forehead resting against hers. "Come with me," he murmured, his voice a husky whisper.

Beatrice nodded, her body thrumming with a mix of anticipation and desire.

Kenneth took her hand, leading her through the winding paths of the gardens until they reached a secluded alcove, hidden from view by tall hedges and blooming roses.

He turned to her, his eyes dark with lust.

"You're mine, Beatrice," he whispered, his voice filled with raw emotion.

Beatrice's breath hitched as she met his gaze. "I'm yours, Kenneth," she replied softly, her words a promise, a surrender.

With that, he pulled her into his arms once more, capturing her lips in a searing kiss that left her with no doubt about his intentions.

Slowly, he began to undo the laces of her gown, his movements sure and deliberate. The dress fell open, revealing the swell of her breasts and the creamy skin of her shoulders. He trailed his fingers along her collarbone, and she shivered with desire.

"God, you're beautiful," he whispered, his breath hot against her ear.

Beatrice moaned as he nipped her earlobe, sending shivers of pleasure down her spine.

His hands roamed over her body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. She could feel herself growing wet, and the aching desire between her legs intensified.

Kenneth unlaced the back of her corset, freeing her breasts from their confines. She gasped as the cool air hit her bare skin, her nipples hardening into tight peaks. He dipped his head, taking one into his mouth and sucking gently. She arched her back, pressing herself closer to him.

His teeth grazed her nipple, sending waves of pleasure to her core. She could feel herself growing wetter by the second, and she could tell from the growing bulge in his trousers that he wanted her just as badly.

With trembling hands, she undid the buttons on his waistcoat, revealing a taut, muscular chest. She ran her hands over his firm pectorals, feeling his heart beating rapidly beneath her fingertips.

Kenneth's fingers trailed down her abdomen before pushing down her pantaloons. She stepped out of them, revealing herself to him. She was bare and vulnerable, and it felt exhilarating.

His fingers brushed against the curls at the apex of her sex, and she shuddered with anticipation as he began to caress her. His touch was slow and deliberate, like a master artist painting a beautiful masterpiece.

Kenneth leaned closer, his breath hot and heavy against her ear. "Are you ready for me?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

Beatrice looked into his eyes, her heart pounding in her chest. "Yes," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

He slid his fingers inside her, and she gasped at the intrusion. He started to move his fingers in and out of her, creating a rhythm that had her rocking her hips against him. Her breath came in ragged gasps as pleasure shot through her body.

She opened her legs wider for him, giving him better access to her most intimate place. His fingers teased and tormented her, building her need for him with every stroke.

Beatrice protested as he stopped and stepped away from her. Kenneth kicked off his trousers before grabbing her around the waist and pulling her tight against his length.

"Please," she begged.

He nuzzled her neck and then trailed kisses down to her shoulder, his hands still moving between her legs, watching her body shake with pleasure.

Then, with a groan, he lifted her and pushed inside her.

Beatrice gripped his shoulders hard and let out a low moan as he slid into her slowly until he was buried all the way inside.

She gasped at the delicious fullness. His strong arms held her tight as he thrust deep inside her. Their cries of pleasure blended with the sounds in the moonlit garden.

They remained intertwined for several moments, savoring the aftermath of their passion. Sweat trickled down their bodies, mixing together as he held her in his arms, their heartbeats slowing down to a steady rhythm once more.

"That was amazing," Kenneth murmured.

Beatrice smiled softly, feeling her chest rise and fall against his as she took in deep, shaky breaths.

"And you were incredible," she whispered back, her voice raw and husky.

Kenneth chuckled softly, his breath warm against her ear.

"As much as I enjoy our garden rendezvous," he murmured, his voice low and seductive, "perhaps we should continue in the privacy of our bedchambers before we shock the servants."

Beatrice laughed quietly, the sound a sweet melody in the night air.

"That might be wise," she agreed, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest.