Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

T he night had been far less of a disaster than Stephen had initially feared. For the whole hour he had waited for Elizabeth to ready herself for the outing he had been pacing and trying not to think about what would happen if she were stubborn enough to go to a socially prestigious event wearing one of her appallingly plain outfits.

However she had surprised him, coming into the room a vision in pink, her cleverly set curls glossy and her skin glowing and radiant. She was a vision, and he was a little surprised to find himself looking forwards to turning up to the party with the most beautiful woman in England.

While he was pleased that Celia and Elizabeth had clearly hit it off, the fact that his wife did not know the most basic things about approaching something so essential as an evening party left him uneasy and angry with her entire family.

No wonder she often stayed quiet or looked uneasy when matters of proper behavior came up. After seeing her very nearly curtsey to Perceval he was half inclined to believe that no one had taught her anything on how to be a lady and they were all extraordinarily lucky that they had gotten as far as they had without any serious mishaps.

One day Albert Barnes was going to reap the fruits of his many cruelties and Stephen was increasingly certain that there were many small evils he had done to his illegitimate daughter.

He was in the carriage on the ride home reviewing the evening and cursing himself for not noticing that Elizabeth was tiring far earlier when she cried out and then leapt from the carriage in her beautiful gown and pelted off into the darkness of the forest.

In that moment Stephen’s heart took such a huge and painful jolt in his chest that he was stunned by it into momentary stillness. It was long enough for her to make it a few steps down the path before he could fling himself out into the night after her, calling her name.

His feet pounded against the muddied track as he swiftly caught up with the forest nymph his wife had apparently turned into. The lantern that the driver was holding cast a soft glow over the scene so that he had to slow his steps to take her in.

She was like a creature from a myth, beautiful and strange and achingly lovely in ways that made him think of stories of fairy maidens and bespelled woods. Her hair had come loose and was tumbling around her shoulders in soft waves and her face was luminous in the mingled light of lantern and moon. Her gown was stained with mud but somehow that only added to the image of a wild creature that he would have to be very careful not to frighten away.

In her arms she cradled a bundle of feathers, flapping weakly and letting out soft chirps of distress.

As he approached, slowly, unable to shake the sudden unearthly feeling that if he made a sudden movement she might melt away before him, Elizabeth looked up at him, her eyes wide and a tear trembling down her cheek.

“Its wing,” she said softly. “Its wing is hurt.”

The sound of her voice broke the spell that her glorious dishevelment had wrapped him in and he strode to her side and looked down at the small kestrel, its intelligent eyes wide in panic and one of its wings limp and loose at its side.

“It looks broken,” he said softly. “It will die out here shortly. Predators will have it.”

“I cannot allow that. Stephen please, may I take it home so I can take care of it?”

He would have said yes to her, naturally. It was not necessarily a good idea, and she was likely to have her heart broken when the bird failed to thrive and was found dead in a few days, but having sisters had taught him the wisdom of helping instead of hindering their soft hearted attempts at rescuing small creatures.

However Stephen did not think there was a thing in the world that Elizabeth could not have asked him for then, not with her eyes so large and trusting, not with her calling his home her own.

“Of course,” he said. “Mrs. Pugh will help you create a safe place for it to rest and I will send for one of my groundskeepers in the morning. He will be able to advise how best to set the wing.”

Her face broke into the most beautiful, radiant smile he had ever seen. “Thank you, thank you.” Then she turned her attention back to the bird. “We will get you well again, I promise.”

As she turned and made her way back to the carriage, Stephen touched a hand to his chest. His heart felt too large, too full. What strange magic was she doing to him?

The footman ran for Mrs. Pugh as they drew up to a stop at the entrance of the estate and Stephen himself opened the carriage door and then came around to help her down. He was wrapping his own coat around her shoulders to protect her from what she was almost certain was a very small wind that perhaps he was imagining to be stronger than it was when Mrs. Pugh came hurrying up.

She was completely different from Mrs. Adams back at the Rosenburg estate, but kindly nonetheless. She was a tall woman with straight fair hair and very pale eyes. She had dainty hands and feet and enough strength in her to keep the whole estate running as it should do. She spoke in as few words as she could manage and allowed silences to talk for her.

Elizabeth had been greatly amused when Diana had told her a series of stories about how when Herbert had been a teenager he had been ‘rather bad tempered’ and he had been constantly getting into scrapes. While Stephen had kept him in line the only other person he showed any respect for was Mrs. Pugh who had once subjected him to so thorough and ringing a silence that he had remembered it in terror ever since.

“Ah it’s so small,” she said tersely, a line of concern on her face. “Come.”

Elizabeth followed her into the building, only slowly becoming aware of the chill in the air and how thankful she really was for Stephen’s coat around her shoulders. She waited as Mrs. Pugh found a small box and some soft pleasant things to line it with, and then the two of them settled the young bird inside and Mrs. Pugh assured her in the space of three words that she would take care of him and Elizabeth could retire.

It was late enough by now that Sally would have turned in and in fact Elizabeth was rather glad of it. She loved Sally with all her heart, but she was so tired she felt like all she wanted was the quiet of her room to change her clothes, clean her face and slowly unravel the many thrilling beauties and adventures of the day.

She was taking off her headdress when she heard someone behind her and realized it was Stephen coming in, his footfall now familiar enough to her that she could tell when he was near.

“Is that all it takes to get you to smile?” he asked, his voice low. “Allowing you to keep some wounded bird?”

Elizabeth turned fully and looked at him from across the room. In that moment it felt as though there were an enormous gulf between them but also as though they were somehow reaching for each other despite it.

His gaze was electric.

She felt her heart pound.

The moment stretched and stretched. Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth and she was aware that she was blushing, aware that she should break the silence but unsure how to do so properly.

She waited too long. A look of something like disappointment crossed his face and he bowed. “Good night, Elizabeth.”

No, it couldn’t end like this. Elizabeth grasped hold of the advice that Lady Stapleton had given her and made a decision, hurrying forwards towards him and taking his hand in her own.

“Wait.”

He paused. It was something strange and wonderful to be holding his hand like this, a strong competent man who was waiting because she had asked him to, who was letting her hold him back.

“Thank you,” she said, stumbling a little over the words. It was hard to speak what she knew to be true and close to her heart, hard to make herself so vulnerable. “Thank you for tonight. For the party. I wasn’t - I was never allowed to parties when I lived in the Rosenburg Estate. I always longed to attend a dance, see all the lovely sights I heard my sisters speak about. It has been a dream for me.”

She wasn’t sure she could help him understand how much it had meant to finally live the world she had always been cut off from, but he squeezed her hand gently and his eyes were full of warmth when he looked at her.

“You should be taken to any event you desire,” he said firmly. “You will get positively sick of it when we have been in London a while. I shall want to go to every event with you on my arm.”

No one had ever been proud of her before and Elizabeth had to swallow hard around a lump in her throat. “Oh.”

“You are lovely, my dear,” he said more gently, reaching down to brush a curl of her hair from her face. “I am a lucky man.”

She wanted to duck her head and hide from his perceptive gaze, but that felt like running away so instead she gathered her courage and met his eyes firmly. “I also want to thank you for the gifts,” she said, as steadily as she could. “I know I must have appeared most ungrateful today when you went to so much effort. I have never received gifts that were so valuable before, nothing so lovely and worth so much money. I did not know how to accept them from you. It felt too much.”

He lent down to her. There was a gentleness to him in that moment that she was clinging to with all her might to keep her from pushing him away and hiding once again. “I was glad to get them for you. They were simply to make you smile.”

“Your Grace, they are so expensive!” she protested.

“I value your smiles highly,” Stephen said, his eyes bright.

Elizabeth felt that she must sit down, her knees a little weak beneath her. But she also did not want to move away, she wanted to be as close to him as she dared. She wanted him to hold her, to make her feel wanted and safe and beautiful.

His lips were so close to hers that she trembled.

She could feel the tension in him, the iron will he was using to hold himself back and she realized at last that he truly would not make a single movement until she asked him to.

“Stephen,” she said, her voice hoarse.

“Just say the word darling, if you want me,” he said, so low in his chest that she could feel the vibrations.

“Please,” she whispered. “Kiss me.”

He let go of her hand, and she made a noise of protest, a soft cry that escaped out of her like a wish, but he wrapped both arms around her almost immediately, scooping her up and walking both of them over to the bed where he put her down, his eyes fierce on hers and tangled one hand in her hair, bringing her in for a kiss that seemed to devour her soul.

Elizabeth whimpered. Under any other circumstances it would have mortified her to have that sound escape her lips, but somehow, with his hot mouth pressed against her own, she found she didn’t mind it. Barely noticed it even, as his tongue slipped between her lips and another thoroughly undignified sound escaped her.

They had kissed before. Elizabeth too had done her share of imagining, on nights alone in her room at the old estate, when she was desperate for the love and warmth of another person. But nothing she had conjured up had prepared her for this. How strangely unlike anything else, the sensation of his tongue against her own, or the echoing sensation it pulled from another, lower, part of her. She felt the urge to move, to shift with that aching warmth, to surge up and press the full length of her body against his own, to feel the hardness of his chest beneath the fine evening clothes. To do, she didn’t know what, but something .

“Stephen!” she gasped out, pulling back so she could look at his face, to see if she was having the same effect on him that he was having on her. The duke’s, her husband’s, eyes were dark, pupils large as he looked down at her, but there was concern on his face too. She didn’t want that. She wanted more of that dark, hungry expression. She wanted his tongue back in her mouth. She wanted more of him.

“Remember, I will stop at any moment should you say the word,” Stephen said. “I will only, tonight and ever, do what you ask of me.” And oh. Oh that did something else to her entirely. Something sharp and hot and wonderful that hurt, and she wanted to cry but she wanted to kiss him more and so she did.

“I don’t know,” she said, between kisses. “What to ask you for.” She might have expected someone else to laugh but he cradled her face tenderly instead and asked, “May I show you pleasure?” Another whimper came out and she nodded, almost frantic. ‘Overly eager’, said the voice in the back of her head that watched and criticized everything she did. It sounded like her step mother. It had no place in her bedchamber that night, or ever.

Her husband smiled down at her as his hands came up, gentle as any lady’s maid, and undid the laces and clasps of her finery. The headdress was already gone, curls mostly loose, all it took was a few pins to have the rest tumbling down around her. His hands brushing her neck as he carefully removed and set aside her necklace, then her gown, her petticoats, her stays, her shift.

“It’s not fair,” she said, voice hoarse. “If I am to be the only one naked.” She blushed at her boldness but her husband, gazing upon her in a way that would be disquieting if there was not so much gentleness mixed with the want, immediately obliged. Elizabeth watched, heat spreading across her chest and up her neck as he shed each layer, and wondered if this was how he had felt as he undressed her.

“Satisfied, wife?” Stephen asked, eyes dancing, and if he wasn’t so enticing, Elizabeth thought to herself, she might find him slappable. Instead she bit back another moan and said, “Well? What now? You said you’d show me pleasure, so what is it you intend to show me?”

It was just short of a demand, and she might be embarrassed by that later, but it seemed to please him because he smiled and closed the gap between them. “With your permission,” he said, moving his mouth towards her throat.

“Granted, granted,” she panted, realizing that her first impression may have been correct after all, and that her husband was, for all of the wonderful qualities she was discovering, a really very annoying person. All the same it was rather hard to care at that moment, because his mouth on her throat sent another wave of shocks through her body, pulsing towards the building heat and slickness between her thighs. Elizabeth cried out and she felt the man smile, smile, against her skin before asking for permission again and dropping his mouth ever lower.

Stephen trailed kisses down her neck, across her shoulder and her collarbones, pausing infuriatingly to ask if he might, if he could, if she would allow it, as he moved to explore each new part of her. Infuriating, and yet it brought a sharp warmth to her chest to have him care so much about her wants and her comfort. Still she was on the verge of telling him to stop asking, that he could kiss her anywhere and she would like it, when his mouth landed on her nipple and he did something with his tongue that made her writhe.

“Oh! Oh good god!” she cried out, and then clamped her hand over her mouth in mortification. Stephen laughed a little, the delight on his face making it clear he wasn’t laughing at her this time “it’s a big house wife, no one will hear you. You may be as… vocal as you wish.”

The implications drew another low moan from her throat and Stephen laughed again from where he held himself over her, the muscles of his chest tantalizingly out of reach of her sudden desire to run her tongue over them. A good thing probably. Though perhaps he would like that. Perhaps she would ask him later what he would like for her to do to him. Heat flooded her face but before she had time to overthink it his tongue swirled around her nipple and she arched up, almost screaming with it.

“You like that, don’t you?” and oh he was smug, and it made her want all those unknown things even more as if she could bed the smugness right out of him. She wanted to tell him so but instead all that came out of her was “More!” and he took her at her word, redoubling his efforts with fingers and tongue until she thought she might lose her mind with it.

“I need, I need,” Elizabeth gasped, not knowing what it was she was begging for, only that she would do just about anything for it. “I know,” Stephen said, voice low, somehow commanding and gentle at the same time. “I know what you need, don’t worry.”

He left her breasts, now so sensitive the air itself felt like an echo of his touch, and began to kiss down over her stomach only to pause once more as he reached her mound of Venus. “May I?” he said, looking up at her, all trace of humor gone from his expression. Elizabeth had no idea what he was asking but it didn’t matter, anything to alleviate the unbearable desire in her and she would say yes.

“Please, Stephen,” she said. “Please.” Stephen, the duke, her husband , watched her for a moment, a small, victorious smile turning up the corner of his mouth. Then he parted her legs and settled between them, pressing a kiss to the inside of her thigh, just above where her stockings sat. This time his kisses trailed upwards, and confusion and shock warred within her, because surely he couldn’t be intending…

He was. He did. His tongue found its way inside of her and she did scream this time, hands clenching in the sheets as her whole body reacted to the feel of it. It was electric. It was like nothing else, except maybe the feel of his tongue stroking the inside of her mouth, only more so, and so many other things as well.

A string of blasphemies found its way out of her mouth as she twisted beneath his onslaught. It was so much, it was too much, and when he stopped to once again ask if she was alright and if she’d like him to continue she thought about killing him.

“Yes, for the love of God yes, don’t ever stop again!” Elizabeth cried out in near unhinged frustration, and the damnable man actually did laugh at her again before putting his mouth back where it belonged and putting it to proper use.

It was like a kind of madness, the pleasure taking possession of her body and driving all thought and self-preservation from her mind. Elizabeth bucked and twisted below him like a wild thing, crying out the most obscene things and guttural noises any proper lady ought to be ashamed of. But of course she wasn’t one, and perhaps he didn’t mind that, because her wildness seemed only to drive him on, refining and intensifying her pleasure.

The climax took her by surprise, heat and intense waves of an indescribable pleasure beginning where his mouth joined her sex and shooting all throughout her body before leaving her limp and exhausted. “I assume that is to Your Grace’s satisfaction?” Stephen said, and without opening her eyes Elizabeth knew he wore that expression of insufferable smugness again where he lay between her legs. Once again she found it truly hard to care and instead held her arms out for him. The bed shifted, then dipped, as he resettled himself beside her and took her in his arms, kissing her forehead as she nestled in against him in sleepy satisfaction.

“I did not know a body could do that,” she heard herself admitting, and the smile was evident in Stephen’s voice as he replied.

“There are all kinds of things a pair of bodies can do that you may find delightful, and all the time in the world for me to show them to you.”

Elizabeth let out a hum, soft and pleased and hopeful and felt herself begin to drift off. Distantly she was aware of Stephen moving, perhaps even of him leaving the bed - then a door, and she was aware of a sense of loss, but sleep had caught her by that time and she let herself slip away into dreams.