Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

Snow fell softly outside the window, dusting over the collection of statues in the garden outside of the chapel window.

Christmas.

Henry shifted on his feet, glancing nervously at the stone floors. When he had proposed, he hadn't expected everything to happen so soon, but here he stood, about to be married to Matilda Brennan, at the duke's private chapel. The duke and duchess sat before him as witnesses, and the vicar stood behind.

It would be a small wedding, efficient and concise. Tilly said she hadn't minded, and perhaps she didn't, but Henry wished only to give her what she wanted. He would make that his life's mission.

He rubbed his hands together, fighting off the chill. Tilly had preferred the chapel when the duke offered up his house for their wedding. He had proposed they could head to Gretna Green, but the duke insisted with the weather, it was best to have the ceremony at Haddington.

Considering Mr. Haskett was presumably in London, but not out of their lives completely, it was for the best.

The doors opened and Tilly entered, dressed in a beautiful burgundy gown. Her hair was decorated with a small crown of orange blossoms from the conservatory.

"Hello," she mouthed to him.

He might have answered if it wasn't for how tongue-tied he was seeing her walking toward him.

Henry would soon be married, and with a son of his own.

Everyone had been wrong.

His heart wasn't ice after all.

Tilly had acted the part of a bride many times, but never did she imagine she would become a bride in earnest. Women like her did not marry. Never mind an earl.

Yet, Henry was waiting, his dark eyes pinned to her as if the world depended upon her next breath.

They had fallen in love that night, swept up in some invisible force between them. Romantic, sure. But she knew the stories. She made her way through this world acting out matters of the heart. But this was all surreal, almost too good to be happening. And maybe a little too quick.

Her heart pounded against her chest as she walked down the short aisle of the chapel. A soft snow fell outside, the softest hush of Christmas magic washing over their wedding.

She stopped when she reached Henry, willing herself not to throw her hands around his neck and kiss him well and good. But that would be far too shocking, even for her.

And all the while, as the vicar discussed the sanctity of marriage, and they exchanged their vows, Tilly was stuck with only one thought: she hadn't allowed fear to win. Roger had been a menace in her life, threatening to ruin her hard work and rip her family apart. Meeting Henry had been her greatest gift. He had dared her to love him when she had shut her heart away to protect herself and everything she loved. And he had done so not out of selfishness, but because he had faith that she was strong enough for such a challenge.

Once the brief ceremony was finished, they all quietly slipped back into Haddington, never mentioning to the other guests what had happened. Too much still threatened Tilly and her family, so it had been decided to keep the small affair a secret and then enjoy Christmas day with the rest of the guests. There were many details left to figure out between the pair, and by keeping their marriage a secret, they could avoid having a scandal tarnish either of their reputations.

In time, once everything was sorted, their marriage would be announced, and Mr. Greenwald would see to releasing any of the necessary details.

It was all well in good in theory, but beyond coy flirting, she wasn't allowed to be with her new husband. Living as a secret might keep everyone safe until everything was resolved, but it hurt Tilly, and she couldn't wait until the day she could publicly be Lady Devlin.

When evening descended upon Haddington and the port and merriment was flowing, the duke called his guests out onto the back veranda to watch the fireworks display.

Tilly, dressed in a wool cape, leaned against one of the massive stone columns of the house, fascinated as bursts of color lit up the sky. And in the middle of the commotion, Henry's hand reached for hers and gave it a small squeeze.

They quickly slipped back into the house and retreated to her room. Tilly threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, happy to finally be alone.

"I can't stay long," he said in between kisses. "But I needed to see you before I leave for London in the morning. A letter arrived, and I need to help my brother Rafe out of a bad situation."

She cupped his face in her hands, sighing. "One day, I look forward to when I can spend as much time as I'd like with you, without fear of being discovered."

"You will never lose me, sweetheart." He bent down and kissed her forehead. "As for time, I hazard we have a few hours at least before I have to sneak out for the evening. I plan on spending what I can of our wedding night together."

"Wedding night…" she mused, turning the words over in her mouth. "We're married, Henry."

"Lady Devlin." His voice rumbled over each syllable, and it was as if he had struck a match. Her body warmed, and she pressed closer to him.

She grabbed his vest and slipped her hand beneath to feel his chest under the linen of his shirt. "Lord Devlin."

"I hate it when you call me that."

"You once called me Lady Mischief. Perhaps you are Lord Mischief now."

"I am not well-known for finding mischief."

"Until me that is." She playfully blew out her cheeks. "Husband, then?"

He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her, turning to gently place her on the bed.

"Most definitely husband." She giggled as he kissed the column of her throat. Henry's teeth nipped at the corner of her jaw, and suddenly nothing was funny, and she had entirely too many clothes on.

Henry pulled away and rose, pacing around her room for a moment before he grabbed the pitcher of water on the nightstand and poured himself a drink. He held his hand out while taking a long gulp, then set down the glass.

"I don't mean to alarm you, Tilly, but I don't…" He raked his hands through his hair. "I have never… that is… I have never been with a woman."

In the dim candlelight, she was certain a flush rose to his cheeks.

Tilly sat up, a slow smile spreading to her mouth as she slipped off the bed. "I understand." She grabbed Henry's hand and dropped a kiss into his palm before stepping back. Her heart hammered in her chest as she began undressing.

Henry froze, watching her slowly remove each layer until she stood before him naked, so vulnerable. "Look at you…," he whispered.

Tilly smiled, nerves and excitement rushing through her. She was nervous as well. It had been some time, and the circumstances had been much different.

"Matilda, you're beautiful."

Tilly padded over to him, met his eyes, and whispered in his ear, "Don't worry, I will take the lead. Isn't that what you said the other day?"

"Yes, well…"

He reached down and tipped her chin upward, pressing his lips against hers in a slow, drugging kiss. Tilly craved to feel his body against hers. Desire curled deep in her belly for more.

"May I help you undress?" she asked, slowly unbuttoning his shirt.

"Yes." His mouth moved against her forehead in the softest touch.

Slowly, Tilly undressed Henry, meeting his heated stare time and again until he stood before her naked as well.

Her fingers softly traced over his olive skin and the long, lean muscle of his forearms, his chest, and then the thin trail of hair down his abdomen. His body was powerful, graceful, completely unexpected, and she wished to learn all of it, to feel all of it.

Tilly grabbed his hand and led him to bed, sinking down on the mattress. Tilly peeked up at Henry before taking his erection in her hand, hard yet the skin so soft.

He groaned, tossing his head back toward the ceiling. "Wait, no."

It had been some time since she shared a bed with a man. And that had brought about Ethan. And it had been different, greedy even. Her body had been used, even though she had participated willingly, and it hadn't been a shared experience before. Still, she wished for Henry to enjoy this.

"I don't understand…"

He sat down on the bed beside her, taking her hands in his, and kissed her knuckles before leaning over to cup her face in his palm. "I wish for this to be pleasurable for both of us. Sit back. If you'd like."

Tilly reclined back on the soft mattress, and Henry sank to the floor, slowly parting her knees. He kissed her quim before parting her folds with his fingers and slowly began to kiss her, pleasuring her with his tongue.

She raked her hand through his black hair, pulling, feeling as if she too were coming apart. Never, she had never had a man be so intimate with her in this way. Pleasure flooded her body, a quick burst of fire before her limbs were heavy and sated.

"I might not have had practice, but I am a quick study," he said between kisses. "I saw that once in an erotic text, and I always wanted to try it."

His grin made her flush. Goodness.

"Would you like to stop there tonight?" he asked, brushing the hair back from her neck.

He kissed her again, slowly taking her apart until she whispered, "No."

"Tell me, then, what would you like?"

Tilly reclined into the pillows, stretching out her long legs. "You, Henry."

He bent and kissed her navel, trailed kisses up her sternum and along her jaw to her ear. "I love you, sweet. Tell me to stop if you'd like."

She shook her head and rested it against his shoulder as Henry moved over her, his cock hard and pressing against her entrance. "No, I don't wish for that, it's only… the last time." She cursed herself for allowing fear to edge into this moment. She wished to be present, fully present, and enjoy her new husband. And all she could think of was the last time she had freely given her body over to a man.

"Right…" He rested his weight on his elbows, holding his body above hers but allowing her to roll away if she wished. She didn't. But that consideration was perhaps all she needed as he gently kissed her mouth, spinning her apart with each touch.

Pleasure.

She had never known. She had never considered this was what could be shared with one's bed partner.

Tilly shifted her hips, opening up to Henry. Her teeth scraped against his shoulder as his erection slowly slipped inside.

"That feels…"

She nodded, almost as wordless. Henry thrust against, warmth spreading through her limbs, hungry for her. Whatever this was, Tilly wished only for him. Henry groaned with another thrust. She pulled back as his shoulder muscles tensed.

"Touch yourself," he whispered. "Make yourself soar for me."

She closed her eyes and slid her hand between them as he slowly stroked her. And just as suddenly, the feeling from earlier shook her body. Her muscles tensed until warmth spread through her body and her limbs shook. She opened her eyes, frustrated that Henry had stopped.

"I think that may be my favorite part," he growled. She grinned up at him, drawing his head to her chest as he continued, "To hear you, to taste you…"

With a shuddering breath, Henry withdrew, spending his seed onto the sheets beside her. Tilly reached for him, and he rolled over, grabbing Tilly and hauling her close. He peered down with a smile.

She smiled back.

And that was enough for the moment. It was all she ever needed, and she had found that with Henry. The masked stranger.

"Do you really have to leave tonight?"

"We might still have time…"

"No," she laughed, playfully swatting him away. "Well, yes… but I only meant must we leave one another again?"

"It would be safer if you didn't return to London for a while. And I fear Cliffstone Manor needs some major structural work completed before I can bring you to the Isle of Wight. Though I wish… I wish for you to be with me."

She stopped tracing circles on his chest with her fingertips.

"Henry, you may have fallen in love with me, but I have a large family who are very much a part of my life. You will welcome them all, not just Ethan?"

"I wasn't expecting any of this, sweet. But I love you, and I am looking forward to meeting your family. Whatever they need, I will do my best to look after them."

She couldn't imagine a better Christmas. Still, she didn't wish to be parted from Henry, though she was eager to return to Ethan and the others.

"My parents are still in Ireland. My father's health is poor. I live with my twin sisters Fiona and Brigid, Maeve, and younger brother Daniel. My older brother, Patrick, is married, as well as my sister Imogen."

"Well, then we will find schools for them and provide your sisters with a Season in London when they are of age."

"That is all I had hoped for, but what now? If I am not to stay in London, where I am to go? What am I to do with Ethan and my brothers and sisters?"

"Could you stay with your older sister, Imogene?"

"She has three children. I wouldn't want to impose on her."

"Or perhaps, well I know of a place in Wales, about an hour from where I grew up, that would be quiet and safe. And then when I can, I will send for you."

"You promise?"

"Tilly, I must help my brother, but I promise I will do everything within my power to see you with me at Cliffstone by spring. And until then, I will write every day."

"And I'll miss you."

He dropped a kiss on her forehead. "I will miss you more."