Chapter Eighteen

As promised, they were married in St George's on Hanover Square—the parish church of Mayfair—three days later. Thankfully Sophie's mama and closest friends were in attendance. Her cousin Lila—now Lady Billington—too returned from the country to attend and enjoy the last few weeks of the Season.

She stood beside Henry at the wedding breakfast in the gardens of his London estate. A chilled glass of champagne in hand, she marveled at how lucky she was to marry the man she adored and loved and he in return.

How was it she was now the Duchess of Holland? But when several friends dipped into a curtsy and greeted her by her title, only then did the reality of her life start to seem factual.

"Are you happy?" Henry asked, lifting her hand and softly kissing the top of her gloved fingers.

She smiled up at him, unable to hide the day's delight. "I'm so very happy, Henry. I do not think the day could be any more perfect." To her surprise and without any care for what anyone thought, Henry closed the space between them and kissed her. She leaned into the embrace, her body yearning for his touch. Not seeing him the last two days leading up to their nuptials had seemed an eternity.

He was everything to her. Offered his hand and married her as he promised he would. A dream beyond her reach, and yet, as real as she was standing in the Holland gardens, she was now his wife. Safe from harm, the powerful man at her side no one, not even Lord Carr, would cross.

The morning was perfection personified, and this evening promised to be even more entertaining. They were to hold their first London ball as a married couple. Although the celebration was primarily to honor their marriage, it was an excellent way to introduce her to the ton as the new Duchess of Holland, if nothing else.

All their guests were well on the way to being foxed by luncheon. Without saying a word, Henry escorted her into her new home, a large Georgian manor that she had not visited before this day. He introduced her to the staff, paying particular attention to the housekeeper and her lady's maid.

"Shall we retire for a time, my dear?" he asked, raising his brows as he led her toward the stairs. "I think you shall love your suite of rooms."

A thrill ran through her that she would have her own suite of rooms. She had never had anything so grand before in her life. "Are my rooms near yours?" she asked, hoping they were not too far apart.

He shook his head, smiling. "I would not have it any other way." They came to the first-floor landing and turned left along the corridor. "This is your bedchamber, my darling," Henry explained.

Sophie stepped into a large, rectangular room that housed two marble fireplaces. Not one, but two! The windows overlooked the back gardens and terrace, and in the distance, she could see the sphere of St Paul's Cathedral.

The bedding was a dusty pink and very pretty. A large, four-poster bed against one wall, the dark mahogany wood suiting the lighter shades of the bedding and matching upholstered settee situated before the fire.

"Henry, this is stunning," she sighed, moving about the room, unable to hide the excitement that flooded her. To have this as her sanctuary, her home from this day forward, was a blessing she could never have foretold.

She sat on the dressing table chair, taking in her meager hairbrush and the paste jewelry she owned that the maid had unpacked and laid out for her.

Henry came to stand behind her, his eyes meeting her in the reflection. "There is a bellpull beside the fire should you require your maid or anything else. And if you come through this door," Henry said, walking over to a panel on the wall she had not noticed. "And press here," he demonstrated, "it opens a hidden door that leads into my bedchamber."

Sophie joined Henry at the door, slipping past him and into his chamber, which was a mirror image of hers, except where hers was feminine, his was masculine. Dark-emerald bedding and window dressings with dark-green silk wallpaper would leave no one in doubt who slept there. A duke, a powerful man.

Her husband.

"And I can come in here whenever I please?" She grinned at the amusement in his eyes at her question.

"Of course. In fact, I have a surprise for you."

Sophie looked about the room but could not see any flowers or champagne to toast their union privately. She looked at him curiously as to what it was. "A surprise? Where?" she asked.

He reached out and clasped her hand, pulling her back into her suite of rooms and walking her to the opposite side, where another hidden door was masked as paneling.

"In here," he said.

Sophie entered the room, half the size of her bedchamber, and gasped. A bathing room. A large bath filled with steaming water sat before an unlit hearth. A cupboard full of linens and a small table held various soaps and fresh herbs. The room smelled divine, not to mention the bath looked utterly decadent right at this moment.

"I did not know what you liked best, so I ordered the housekeeper to purchase a variety of soap scents for you to enjoy."

Sophie glanced at the water, and already she longed to slip into the bath and relax after such a busy and exciting morning.

"Why do I feel as though you're going to indulge me, Henry?" She went to him, leaning up and wrapping her arms around his neck. She stole a kiss, reveling in the feel of his hands coming about her waist and holding her firm.

"Because I will be." He grinned and then, without a word, let her go and spun her about. He made light work of the buttons on her gown, sending a shiver down her spine when he kissed the back of her neck. Sophie bit her lip, impatient for what was to come.

"Shall we bathe together?" He asked as her gown dropped to the floor to pool at her feet.

She nodded, glancing over her shoulder. "Untie my stays. A bath sounds heavenly."

He did as she asked before he started on his own attire. He ripped his shirt from his breeches, hoisting it over his head and throwing it aside. He kicked off his boots, shoved his breeches down, and, heaven forbid, stood before her as naked as the day he was born.

Her mouth dried at the sight of him. His muscular body, broad shoulders, and heavy-lidded eyes that burned with need made her body tremble in awareness. His chest rose and fell with every breath, and his stomach had a delightful V that led to satisfaction.

Sophie kicked off her slippers, hoisting her shift from her person, wanting nothing between them. With a little devil on her shoulder, she lifted her leg onto the bath and slowly slid her silk stocking down, meeting Henry's hungry gaze that watched her every move.

A muscle worked in his jaw, and expectation pooled heat between her legs. Unheeded by modesty, Sophie stepped into the bath and sank under the scented water, watching Henry join her. His cock jutted out before him, thick and rigid, and she swallowed, her body craving him like air.

He sat across from her, watching her with determined silence.

"This is divine. I cannot thank you enough for today, Henry," she quipped, ignoring the hunger that burned between them. "It has exceeded all my expectations and has been the best of my life."

As quick as a wink, he reached for her, pulling her to sit between his legs. His hands slipped over her stomach, holding her close before he reached for a cake of soap, lathering it between his palms.

"I shall never forget today either, Sophie." His hands settled on her body, washing her, stroking her. His fingers circled her nipples, bringing them to tightened, circular beads. She closed her eyes, reveling in his touch, her willing body ready for whatever he wanted to do.

"From almost the very first moment we spoke, I've wanted you."

"Mmm," she agreed. "I'm so delighted we're the same on that score. From the first day I saw you at the Derby's ball, I've been curious about you too. How lucky we are to have been introduced."

His grin turned wicked as his hand slipped between her legs to stroke her cunny. Sophie spread her legs, wanting his touch there. His fingers worked her body, teasing her, and she moaned, craving release.

"You're so beautiful. I'm going to make you come so hard, my darling, that I will finally hear you scream my name."

His dirty words, ones she never thought to hear a duke utter, almost undid her. She turned in his arms, breast to chest, enjoying the slippery hold they had on each other.

"Promise?" she goaded.

He narrowed his eyes, determination burning in his dark depths. "You do not believe me?"

She shrugged, enjoying the game they played. "Maybe. Only time will tell."

He took her lips in a searing kiss, stealing her breath. "The time is now," he declared, kissing her again and proving that, indeed, he was in earnest.