Chapter Twenty-Six

T o Clarity's ears, Alex's aunt sounded much like a scolding headmistress.

She hoped Cook hadn't noticed Clarity roll her eyes, but when Mrs. Wheaton looked away with a smile, she feared the woman had.

Turning, Clarity faced Lady Aston. Dithering directly behind her was the housekeeper. Apparently, Mrs. Rigley had summoned the person she considered to be in charge, and Clarity could not refrain from sending the housekeeper a withering glare before she answered.

"Queen Victoria enjoyed a cup of Atholl brose near Perthshire. I thought we could have it at my dinner party."

"What dinner party?"

Again, that supercilious tone grated on Clarity's ears.

"I am hosting a party for five couples, as well as yourself, naturally, and the guest of your choice."

"I see." Lady Aston flared her nostrils, then asked, "What is the occasion?"

Clarity was stunned by the question. After all, she was the new viscountess. "Do I need one?"

Lady Aston's pause was a trifle too long. "I suppose not. Including you and my nephew, there will be fourteen people."

"Yes, that's right. Do you have a gentleman in mind? If you give me his name and address, I shall send out an invitation."

"I will handle that myself," she said.

Clarity wondered if Alex's aunt would have trouble scaring up a man to be her partner. She wasn't bad looking, but her demeanor could best be described as off-putting.

"I will need to know the date," Lady Aston said.

"Yes, of course. Mrs. Rigley told me you keep the house schedule. I would like to see it and transcribe it into my own diary."

Lady Aston's nostrils flared even larger. "That won't be necessary."

Clarity took that as a negative. She would not be seeing Lady Aston's schedule, and consequently, she considered herself free to plan whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted.

"I will let you know the date shortly." She might as well play coy and make Alex's aunt wait and wonder.

Two days later, Clarity knocked upon Lady Aston's private sitting-room door, having not yet figured out a way to summon the older woman to her. She supposed it was a petty matter, who went to whom, but it tipped the balance of power toward Alex's aunt.

As expected, Lady Aston thwarted her at once.

"That will not do!" she said upon hearing the date, which was a week and a half away.

Clarity had been prepared for resistance. And why not? Apart from the cook, everyone else she'd spoken with regarding the party mentioned deferring to Lady Aston, including the butler with whom she'd tried to discuss the wine.

Thus, hearing Lady Aston's words was no surprise.

"Whyever not?" Clarity asked.

"Because Alex will be busy that night. We shall all be at Garrick's on Leman Street."

Clarity was taken aback. "We shall not, for the theater burned down last month. Hadn't you heard?"

Lady Aston's lips became a straight line, and she stared without wavering. Finally, she blinked.

"My mistake. We shall be attending a play at the Haymarket."

Sighing, Clarity supposed her party date was flexible, but this inconvenience was irksome, nonetheless.

"I wish you had shared your schedule with me beforehand. Perhaps the night following?"

"That's not a good party night," Lady Aston declared. "No one likes to go out late on a Thursday."

Clarity frowned, but she would have to take Alex's aunt at her word.

"The following night is Friday, and everyone loves a Friday party," she declared, practically daring Lady Aston to gainsay her.

"I agree. That will work perfectly. I will begin on the invitations."

"No, thank you," Clarity said. "I shall do them myself."

"If you wish." The words barely made it past Lady Aston's gritted teeth.

"I do wish, except the one for your gentleman guest. May I know his name?"

"Major Grover. And I do hope you decided against the Atholl brose. Your party is not the Grand Caledonian Ball. Therefore, I think it would be grossly inappropriate."

"I shall take your advice into consideration," Clarity promised. Silently she added, And I consider it worthless. She intended to have the special drink, regardless.

Having settled that, she took her leave and popped next door to Alex's study.

"There's my lovely wife," he intoned as soon as she saw her.

Swiftly, he came out from behind his desk, banged the door shut with his heel, and took her into his arms.

Instantly, he put her in a good humor. "I must come bother you more often."

"You are never a bother. And I prefer holding you than wrapping my arms around that pile of papers."

"I came to tell you've I've decided on a date for the dinner party I mentioned, and if you tell me to talk to your aunt, I shall scream."

He laughed. "Doubtless, you can handle a dinner party, but she has hosted many, so I know she would be useful."

"I can do it all myself if only —" Clarity held her tongue. She was about to mention the lack of cooperation from the staff. Yet she was mistress of the house, and as such, she would deal with it. "If only I can borrow your seal for my envelopes."

"Is that all?"

"Yes. Although it would be handy to have a proper desk, I can make do in the dining room."

His brow furrowed. "We must have a spare room or a nook where you can have a desk."

Assuredly, he was correct, and she would eventually find somewhere to set up a little desk.

"For now, the dining room table will be fine," she told him. "I don't have many to write."

To her astonishment, while still holding her, he moved her backward until she felt the edge of his oak desk against her rear end.

Then he leaned over her, forcing her back, until she was nearly resting upon the ink blotter. All the time, he was gazing down at her, his eyes sending a wicked message.

"What on earth are you doing?" she asked.

"Reaching for my signet," he said innocently.

But he now rested between her thighs, and she could feel his burgeoning interest.

She smiled up at him, and then slowly parted her lips.

Swooping down like a falcon on a mouse, he claimed her mouth with his. Resting his hands on either side of her, he pressed his manhood to the apex between her thighs, making her skin prickle with heat.

At once, she felt damp, warm, soft, and very feminine, throbbing at her core.

"Yes," she said simply.

"Yes?" he asked, nuzzling her neck.

"Oh, yes." Wrapping her hands around the back of him, she tried to draw him closer.

"Hold on, my love," he said, starting to undo his trousers while she leaned upon her elbows and watched.

"Can we really engage in relations here, upon your desk? It seems brazen."

"I believe we can," he said, letting his arousal spring free.

When he put his large hands on her skirts and drew them up her legs, she shivered and lay back again.

With his fingers at her exposed entrance, he brushed against her mound, causing her to arch up for him and splay herself open.

Without hesitation, Alex fitted his shaft to her canal and penetrated her softness with a long, searing stroke. Gasping at how quickly and ardently her body raced toward the peak of release, she closed her eyes and gripped the edge of the desk as he thrust and retreated.

Arching her neck, she urged him onward, feeling her climax just out of reach.

"Good?" he asked, drawing out slowly, torturing her with his length.

"Mm," she answered, unable to form thoughts, let alone words, relishing the hard desk at her back and the firm muscles of the man she'd married at her front.

When he slid his hand between their bodies and touched her aching bud, she reached her climax easily, let go, and flew like a hawk.

"Oh," she cried, too loudly for a study with Lady Aston next door, earning her Alex's hot mouth quickly covering hers.

With her husband stroking her relentlessly, her body shuddered, tightening and releasing over and over, taking every last sensation he offered. Then he sheathed himself again, spending his warmth deep inside her.

They both fell still and silent as he rested his forehead upon her shoulder, breathing hard. Finally, she opened her eyes and groaned.

"I hope I don't have ink on the back of my dress."

As he laughed, their connection broke. As a gentleman, he swiftly lowered her skirts before tucking himself in and doing up his trousers.

"As I said, come and bother me anytime," he quipped, offering her his hand and drawing her up and off his desk.

Showing him her back, she asked, "Am I presentable?"

"Completely," he said, but she felt his hands smooth her skirts a little. "Although maybe your hair wasn't quite as loose when you entered."

She bit her lip. "I think I had best go to my room and tidy up before I wander the house." Then she held out her hand, palm up.

Leaning down, he kissed it, letting the tip of his tongue tickle its center and causing her knees to weaken and her body to start tingling again.

"No, silly man," she said. "The seal, please."

"Oh, yes." Leaning over his desk, he retrieved it.

"Good luck with your invitations."

"And you with your paper work," she returned, wondering how she could manage to return to the humdrum of life after such a spectacular ravishment.

Alex had never been happier, and it wasn't solely because he had access to his wife's body practically any hour of the day or night, with the exciting knowledge she relished their encounters as much as he. Truthfully, that might be one of the main reasons, but he also immensely enjoyed her company at breakfast, dinner, and supper, as well as whenever they took a stroll or a ride or simply lay in bed talking before or after swiving.

He was even glad she hadn't taken the customary place all the way at the end of the dining table but instead was seated halfway along. Easily, each evening, he could see her smile and the laughter in her eyes.

Moreover, he was immensely pleased Clarity was throwing a party as the new Viscountess Hollidge. He would show her off to their guests, and she would make him proud.

An hour later, his aunt appeared at his door, bringing him a glass of brandy.

"Am I going to need that?" he quipped, for she usually came bearing only tea, and occasionally, before his marriage, they used to sip port together after dinner over a game of chess.

"If you don't, then I shall," she said. "Your bride tried to send these out."

He looked at the envelopes sealed in blue wax. The seals were small and appropriately glossy.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"That is not Hollidge green," she protested.

He laughed, which felt good. Normally, before Clarity, his aunt would have had something troubling to tell him, perhaps one of his friends passing away or some new war having broken out that had just reached London's newspapers. And he would have let it sit heavily upon him, even if he could do nothing.

But this? "That's no matter. It doesn't bother me." It wasn't as if Clarity had used a cheap wafer seal, which would have shown great disrespect to her invitees.

Aunt Elizabeth's eyes narrowed. "It should. As your wife, she should represent you in public, and both of you ought to be unified in all things to do with the title."

He frowned.

"If it bothers you, then tell her. I'll give her some new wax."

"I've already taken care of it. I didn't want to embarrass her, so I redid her invitations. I thank God I noticed the hideous seal because the contents were even worse."

He was uncomfortable with his aunt opening Clarity's sealed envelopes but also curious.

"What was wrong with her invitations?"

"She is determined to have couples, but she tried to invite the Merediths without Lady Meredith's cousin, Lord Bedington, and his wife. It would have been a dreadful insult to the latter since the Bedingtons have known you longer."

"Have they?" Alex couldn't put a face to any of the four she'd mentioned.

"And then your Lady Hollidge invited the Gilstraps, who I know are out of Town next Friday."

"Strange. I thought she'd said it would be next Wednesday. People like a Wednesday dinner party to break up the week."

His aunt gave an uncharacteristic shrug. "We are going to the theater on Wednesday night. It has long been arranged."

"Has it?" He didn't recall.

"Yes! Besides my guest, Major Grover, was not free on Wednesday."

"I see. Then the party is on Thursday?" he asked. "People are often free."

"It's too late now. Lady Hollidge chose Friday." His aunt waved the invitations in the air. "And she also intended to invite the Duke and Duchess of Hambleton. They were unlikely to show. In the end, I had to swap out three of the five couples."

"I wish you had come to me first. Or better yet, spoken to Clarity directly."

"I didn't want to bother you with things that you ought not to have to worry over," Aunt Elizabeth pointed out. "And as I said, I had no intention of humiliating her when I could easily sort it all out without her ever knowing."

"She'll know when different people show up at her party," Alex said.

"Yes, but by then, she'll be delighted it wasn't ruined through her own ineptitude."

"I suppose. In that case, I thank you for looking out for her and her first party."

Aunt Elizabeth nodded. "Shall I continue to help and advise, with the food and drink and such? And what of the entertainment?"

"I am certain she has that all in hand," he said. "But no doubt she would welcome your offer of assistance."

On the night of the gathering, it was a relief to realize all he had to do was show up. During the day, the staff were like horses waiting for the start of Ascot.

After his valet had dressed him, Alex knocked on Clarity's bedroom door. She used her chamber only for dressing and climbed into his bed each night. It still felt like a dream when he awakened in the morning to find her beside him.

The door opened and her maid came out first, curtsied, and hurried past. Pushing it open wider, he got his first look at her.

"Beautiful lady," he said, taking in her appearance from head to toe. She wore a shimmering satin gown in sapphire blue that matched her eyes and set off her glorious black hair to perfection. "How did I get so fortunate?"

A sweet pink suffused her cheeks.

"I suppose you are lucky," she teased. Then she turned in a circle. "All good?" she asked.

"Far better than good," he answered. "Let's go have a drink in the drawing room before the first guests arrive."

"I have a surprise to start off the evening," she said, taking his arm. "A special concoction."

He looked forward to it. However, when the maid brought in a tray, it was ordinary French wine — claret and burgundy — in carafes directly from the casks in his own cellar.

Clarity stared at the glass offered to her but accepted it as did he.

"I can see by your face this isn't the surprise."

"No," she said. "I wonder if Cook decided it would be better after dinner."

"Maybe. She is skilled at pairing food and drink."

"Perhaps, but I wish she'd told me. Now there is nothing special to start the party."

"Yes, there is." And he leaned down and kissed her. "There is you."

A cough heralded his aunt's entrance.

"That is unacceptable in public," she said as if they were disobedient children. He wondered what she would think about their activities in his study.

But all he said was, "Yes, Aunt Elizabeth, but you are not public. You are family."

"True," she said, helping herself to a glass of burgundy.

Was it his imagination or was she wearing an expression of satisfaction?

Whatever it was, it was vastly different from his wife's look of utter shock when the guests arrived.

About five minutes after the last couple had been greeted, Clarity signaled for him to join her in the hall.

"Husband, I am bewildered. Most of these people are not the ones I invited," she said in a whisper.

He was glad to be able to explain. "These must be the ones Aunt Elizabeth substituted."

"Substituted? How could she have done that? I wrote the invitations myself."

"I asked her to tell you herself. She was concerned about the seal and then discovered some of your guests were out of town, I believe."

With each word he told her, she appeared angrier and angrier. This was not a good beginning to their first hosted event.