Chapter 21

CHAPTER21

Violet woke up in her own chamber. It was lonely and empty in her bed. She even reached over to the other side, curling her hand around the pillow, in the hope that Xander was there, but he wasn’t. It was only the softness of the cushion that greeted her.

I upset him yesterday.

She closed her eyes, thinking of how Xander had reacted when she had brought up Tilly.

Tilly…

She scoffed at the name, hating the mere mention of the woman, though she could hardly help it. The idea of this woman was now imprinted on Violet’s mind, making her jealousy worse by the second.

Violet opened her eyes and looked around the chamber. The first light of the day was bleeding through the partially open curtains, illuminating every corner of the room and reminding her of its emptiness.

The day before, she had gone from such happiness in one second to misery the next, she was finding it difficult to get out of bed at all. In the end, she pulled the blankets up over her head and decided it would be best to hide in bed for a little longer.

A knock sounded at the door. Cold and harsh in sound. She sighed. She didn’t need to hear a voice to know who was knocking. Only Xander could manage to knock in a cold way.

He’s capable of heat and ice. A man of such contradictions!

“I’m sleeping, Xander,” she called to the door.

“Yes, you sound fast asleep,” his deep voice answered her.

“I will be again if you give me a few minutes’ more peace.” She yawned and rolled over on the bed. Before she could even think of going back to sleep, though, the door opened. “Xander!”

She turned on the bed, sitting up and pulling the covers around her nightgown-clad body to see Xander standing in the doorway.

He was scarcely dressed, wearing only his trousers and a loose shirt that hung off his muscular body. He hadn’t even bothered with shoes in order to reach her chamber. His dark hair was tousled, as if he had run a hand through it lazily when he had stepped out of bed, and not bothered with anything else.

“What do you want?” she asked in surprise, waving a hand at him to dismiss him.

He raised his eyebrows in that silent but telling way.

“What!?” she asked impatiently.

“You never were afraid of me, were you?” he said with a sudden, amused smile. “Most people quake at my silent stares.” He closed the door behind him.

“You don’t frighten me.” She flung herself back down into the bed beneath the covers.

You sadden me, though.

She kept the thought to herself, hiding her face beneath the covers. They had scarcely spoken since his sharp words the day before. There was a constant ache in Violet’s chest.

Now that the subject of Tilly had been blocked, it told Violet everything she needed to know.

He still cares about his ex-betrothed. Probably more than he would ever care about me.

The blankets suddenly were tugged off her head.

“Xander! What are you doing?” she cried and knelt up, trying to pull them back toward her, only Xander was now kneeling on the bed. He tugged the blankets easily out of her grasp and dropped them onto the floor. “This is hardly a peaceful morning.”

“Peaceful? I do not remember promising that.” He moved toward her and kissed her.

Startled, she tried to pull back.

“Xander—hmm!”

Yet, he recaptured her lips fast, and when his hand curled up at the back of her neck, urging her to angle her head to him, to part her lips, she melted into him.

Why did I want to pull away at all?

That ache melted in her chest at his touch, and she flung her arms around his neck, pulling him down with her. They fell onto the bed, their bodies molding together. Violet wrapped her legs on instinct around his hips, pulling him as close as possible.

He moved his lips, breaking their kiss and moving down her neck toward her collarbone. He tugged at the nightgown, getting more access to her skin. Each playful nip made her arch her back, trying to get closer to him.

He always held such power over me.

Violet closed her eyes and indulged in the tingling feeling now spreading through her body, the want, the longing for him to make love to her again.

She was reminded of all those gothic novels she loved so much, how the antihero had a draw, the exoticness which drew in the heroine, so much so that she could not possibly resist, even when she knew it would be better for her heart if she did.

I am falling in love with him, and yet his heart will never be mine.

He moved back up her body, though his hands started to lift her nightgown, dragging the skirt up her body so that the silken material teased her legs, promising her more touches. He held her gaze, resting his weight on a single elbow by her head.

“Tell me what you want, and you’ll have it,” he whispered.

“Oh…” she gasped.

He was putting the power in her hands now, giving her control.

“Tell me what you want,” he urged again.

She reached up and kissed him softly, gently this time.

Your heart.

She kept those words to herself, though, knowing he could not give her that.

Instead, she pulled his body nearer and nearer. “I want you, completely.”

She reached for his trousers, undoing the fastener as she said the words. He went to help her, pushing the trousers down his hips so that his length was freed, then he tugged at his shirt, throwing it over his head so that it fell beside them on the bed.

He reached for her nightgown next, freeing her from it so there were no clothes between them, and then he nestled himself between her legs, not quite entering her, but teasing her with his length.

“Please,” she whispered to him, kissing his shoulder as he braced himself over her, both hands against the bed. “Please, Xander.”

He didn’t hold back anymore. He entered her in one swift movement. The pleasure that rocked through her body was sudden and deep. He made her moan with just the rocking of his hips, a slow rhythm set to tease her at first.

The whole time, he held her gaze. They didn’t kiss but just looked at one another, the intensity rising by the second. Her hands moved constantly, exploring his muscled chest, his abdomen, his strong shoulders, and his rear. He growled intermittently, in an almost animalistic way, as if her touch drove him wild.

When her hands returned to his stomach, he changed their position. Pushing her back so she was completely flat on the bed, he grabbed one of her legs and lifted it higher over his shoulder, opening her body completely to him.

He seemed to reach a new spot inside of her, the pleasure so overwhelming that she had to grab one of the pillows and bite down on it in order not to be too loud.

He growled once more as she did this, and at last, the spell of them looking at one another was broken. He kissed down her neck and across her breasts, his movements stilling for a minute before he pulled out of her.

“Xander!” she complained loudly, needing him to return to her, not to leave her wanting more like this.

He flipped her over, grasping her hips so that she was on her hands and knees on the bed.

“Grip the headboard,” he urged.

Strangely, she did as he asked. Holding tightly to the rails, she prepared herself, feeling him moving behind her. His hands caressed her rear, his fingers teasing with the lightest of touches, and then he gripped her hips harder as his knee nudged her legs further apart.

When he entered her again from this new position, Violet gave up trying to be quiet. Moans fell from her lips as he explored her at this new angle, repeatedly entering her with this new and faster rhythm.

“Xander…” she moaned as his hands took hold of her waist, using that possessive grip to rock her back against him.

We have this. We’ll always have this!

She held onto this thought as he drove her body wild with excitement. She could no longer keep a lid on the pleasure and was quickly tumbling toward climax once again. When it struck her, her knuckles turned white with the effort of gripping the headboard so tightly.

She moaned his name loudly, her legs trembling as he drove through her wave of pleasure repeatedly.

“Oh,” she moaned, the sensitivity sudden as he kept rocking into her body, and then his sounds changed.

He was no longer so silent as he often was, but words fell from his lips, too.

“Yes, Vi,” he muttered. “Oh, yes.”

Suddenly, he rocked into her harder, that growl escaping him as he kept thrusting into her through his own wave of pleasure.

Knowing she could at least give him this, give him that pleasurable release, was something.

When he was finished, he pulled out suddenly and fell onto the bed beside her. She moved toward him, desperate for further touch, and rested her head on his shoulder. He panted heavily, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath.

Not a word was said between them as they both basked in the afterglow of their pleasure.

Slowly, Violet smiled. It didn’t matter to her at that moment that Xander had said he could never be completely hers. Surely this showed he felt something for her. They had passion, warmth, and something more between them, even if it would never quite be love on his part.

I shall make us happy. I shall make sure that we will always be happy together.

She ran her hand up and down his chest, this thought certain in her mind as he angled his head toward her. He still breathed heavily as he nuzzled his face into her hair, kissing her head.

There was something almost tender in that kiss, something she had never suspected the man she had first seen in that bookshop capable of.

* * *

“I am Mrs. Winters, Your Grace.” The kindly, rotund lady curtsied to Violet in greeting.

Violet smiled. She had already met the housekeeper more than once, as she had stayed in Xander’s house for the party before they were married, but this was a much more formal and important introduction between them, now that Violet was the mistress of the house.

“It is good to meet you properly, at last,” Violet said and bowed her head to the housekeeper.

Mrs. Winters smiled warmly, her round cheeks pinkening with delight. “It is so exciting to have a new mistress of the house,” she said with a giggle which made her seem much younger than her years. “You must tell me how you like things, Your Grace, so I can ensure the house is run to your liking.”

“You run this house excellently as it is. Perhaps we can see how we get along? I’d like to work with you in the running of the house. I promise not to order you around and be some sort of insufferable and commanding duchess,” Violet assured her, making the lady smile once again. “That does sound strange, to call myself a duchess now,” she murmured aloud.

“Oh, but you are,” Mrs. Winters added. “You are much talked about by the staff if you do not mind my saying, Your Grace. There was a time when we all thought that the Duke would never try to marry again. We are delighted to be wrong, and that you are the new Duchess.”

“Thank you.” Violet forced the smile a little, once more her thoughts dwelling on the woman who had hurt Xander so much that no one thought he would marry again. “Would you introduce me to the rest of the staff, please?”

“Of course. Come with me. I’ve readied them all in the entrance hall for a formal introduction today.”

Mrs. Winters led the path from the parlor toward the entrance hall, where all the servants were indeed lined up neatly.

They started with the maids, including Violet’s lady’s maid, whom she already knew well. Then, they moved on to the footmen, the groundskeeper, who had come in with excitement to meet the new Duchess, and then the butler.

Violet wasn’t sure what to make of the butler at first glance. He was the antithesis of Mrs. Winters’ kindly smile, with an austere face, a long nose, and beady eyes that looked more like black buttons than eyes at all, as if his face had been stitched together. He bowed formally to Violet in greeting, with no hint of a smile on his face.

“This is Mr. Matthews,” Mrs. Winters explained.

Judging from the rather polite smile on her face, Violet assumed the housekeeper had her reservations about the butler as well.

“A pleasure to meet you, Matthews.”

“Thank you.” The butler did not return the pleasantry, but he stared at Violet as if she were some painting on a wall to be observed.

She bristled under his gaze, then found she could have laughed aloud. What other kind of butler would a man like Xander have than one that was so eerie and uncomfortable to be around? It was as if he was some ominous character from The Castle of Otranto, warning of the danger that was within.

“Ahem.” Mrs. Winters cleared her throat.

“It is a pleasure to have you here, Your Grace,” the butler now said at her prompt. “Do let me know if you want anything changed in the running of the household.”

“Thank you,” Violet said formally.

Despite his words, he was now looking away, as if he had already lost interest in their introduction.

I am not sure I’ll feel any great warmth for him.

“Well, to my mind, you all seem to run this house very well. Let us keep everything as it is for now, and we can change things as we go if there is anything I wish to change.”

“We shall have to confirm changes with the Duke first,” the butler said tightly.

Mrs. Winters actually tutted aloud at this statement. “The Duke was always perfectly happy for his mother and sister to make changes around here. He told me himself that he was happy for his new Duchess to make changes of her own, Mr. Matthews.”

“Very well.” He inclined his head in acknowledgment but looked as disinterested as before.

As they spoke, a footman ran out of the line and toward the window. Violet angled her head, having heard the same thing that had caught the footman’s attention.

Was that a horse and cart which had just arrived at the house?

“I shall still like to check things with the Duke,” Mr. Matthews said to Mrs. Winters.

“Would you make yourself more amenable, Mr. Matthews?” Mrs. Winters hissed, clearly thinking Violet could not hear their argument as she followed the footman toward the window, looking out at the horse and cart that had appeared.

Whatever answer Matthews had given clearly upset Mrs. Winters, for she started muttering beneath her breath.

“Who is that?” Violet asked as a woman stepped down from the cart.

There was a misty rain this morning, one that was light but enough to make Xander throw on a frock coat when he had left the house that morning to go visit his steward in order to discuss matters of the tenants. That same rain had made this woman pull a hood from her cloak over her head, so her face was not visible.

“I do not know, Your Grace,” the footman said. He seemed in no hurry to open the door as the woman moved toward it. “It cannot be…” he mumbled quietly. “It’s surely not possible.”

“What do you mean?” Violet asked.

“What’s going on?” Mrs. Winters appeared at Violet’s side and looked out the window, too. “Oh!” She jerked back as if she had been slapped when she looked at the woman.

Before Violet could ask again who the woman was, the door burst open.

The woman had not knocked politely or even called out to be permitted entry but walked in as if this place was her home. She dropped a portmanteau from under her arm onto the floor, where it scattered rain droplets across the marble, and then she dropped the hood from her cloak and looked around the room.

Violet saw a lean figure, a strong appearance, and cascading blonde curls that perhaps needed to be tidied a little after her journey in the cart. The blue eyes were the most striking thing on the lady’s face, so bold and widely set that at first glance, Violet thought her unusual looking, and then the more she looked, the more she saw that the woman was a rather stunning beauty. Her thin lips pressed together and then parted as she looked around the room.

“All gathered here to greet me, I see.” The woman smiled, her voice ringing out across the room. “Mrs. Winters, how good to see you again.”

“Lady Tilly…” Mrs. Winters staggered forward. “Can it really be you?”

Wait… this is Tilly?