Chapter 25

CHAPTER 25

“Thank you,” Celia whispered to the maid who had drawn her bath.

The sun was now setting, casting an orange light that was as warm and as inviting as the copper bath.

Celia had been shown to her chamber for the night by the maid. Supper had been prepared and left for her on a tray on a side table, though Celia had barely touched it. She kept glancing at the door that connected her chamber to Keith’s.

When she had awoken in his chamber that afternoon, she hadn’t been able to contain her disappointment that he was gone. She’d hoped to wake up in his arms… Was that really too much to ask for?

“Ring the bell if you need anything, Your Grace,” the maid said kindly.

Celia thanked her once more.

The maid swiftly left, leaving her to her bath.

Slowly, Celia took off her dressing gown. Her body no longer felt so sore from what she had done that morning with Keith, though there was a dull sort of ache between her legs that she hoped would be alleviated by the bath.

Pulling the screen back a little so she could see more of the sunset, she slipped into the bath. It was so warm that she sank all the way down to her neck and closed her eyes, resting her neck on the rim of the tub. She wrapped her arms around herself under the water, remembering the way it had felt that morning when it was Keith’s arms around her rather than her own.

There was a click somewhere, as if a door opened.

Celia’s eyes shot open, and she sat bolt upright in the bath, turning around with her arms crossed over her chest. She looked at the main door, but it was closed. Frowning, she turned to look at the adjoining door to Keith’s chamber, but it was also closed.

It was in my imagination.

She sank back down into the water again, chewing on her lip. Had it been Keith, she would have wanted to know where he had gone that afternoon, but perhaps it was too much to hope for his company again this evening.

What if he has taken all he wanted… and he wants no more?

She dunked her head, so her hair was floating in the water. It was a fear lodged deep in her chest, that maybe he would feel their passion had already burned out. It wasn’t the case for her, though. Now that she had tasted him once, she wanted him again.

She pushed her head back above the water, and the sight that greeted her shocked her so much that she yelped.

“Ah—Keith!” She sat tall, her arms crossed over her breasts as she stared at him.

He stood at the bottom of her bathtub, wearing only his shirt and his trousers. His hair was rather wild, as if he had run his hands through it multiple times.

“Where the hell have you been?”

“Good evening to ye too?”

“Oh yes, yes, good evening,” she said distractedly. “I woke up and you were gone.”

“I couldn’t sleep.” His eyes were roaming over her body.

Any fears she might have had that his passion for her had been extinguished suddenly evaporated. Feeling bold, she dropped her arms, putting her breasts on show as she started washing her body.

He growled as he watched her.

“Something wrong?” she teased him.

“Don’t tease me,” he warned, moving toward the side of the tub. “I might decide to help ye wash.”

“Would you?” She offered him the bar of soap, smiling up at him.

He narrowed his eyes a little, as if suspicious of her action, then he reached for his shirt. She tried her best to stifle a giggle of delight as he bared himself. There was an added thrill that, for this time, he was willing to remove his shirt, to be completely… vulnerable.

The shirt dropped to the floor as he reached for his trousers and unbuckled them, pushing them down too.

She settled back against the edge of the bathtub, making room for his large and tall frame. Fortunately, it was a large tub, though he still took up most of the space.

“We’re not going to fit,” she said in sudden realization.

“I can solve that.” He reached for her hips.

The bar of soap fell between them as he pulled her into his lap. Her back was to his front as he wrapped one arm firmly around her waist, his other hand moving to tease her inner thigh. She gasped at the feel of his skin against her own. When his finger moved higher, not quite touching her center but teasing her further, she leaned her head back against his shoulder and moaned.

“How sore are ye?” he whispered into the crook of her neck.

“I’m not sore at all,” she lied.

She was a little sore, but that wouldn’t help her case—she wanted him again and was willing to risk a little more soreness just to have him.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his lips trailing a path to a sweet spot just behind her ear. He bit down lightly as his fingers found her center.

She gasped at the pleasure. He stroked her softly, gently, in the most scintillating of ways. He took her to the edge of pleasure but didn’t quite rock her thoroughly with it.

“Oh…” Breathless moans escaped her as she tried to rock her hips against his fingers. His other hand pressed her against his chest so she couldn’t rock into his hand. “Keith!”

He chuckled in her ear. “Remember when I told ye that maybe ye just hadn’t met a man who made ye want to obey?” he whispered, biting her earlobe.

She hadn’t expected the sudden spiral of pleasure in her gut that came from it.

“I remember…” she whispered.

He’d said it outside, the night of their first kiss at Lady Arundel’s house.

“Then obey, Celia,” he whispered in the most tantalizing of ways.

Part of her mind screamed that she would never obey his orders, but then his finger slid deeper into her.

Maybe there is nothing wrong with obeying his orders in the bedchamber every now and then.

“Stay still,” he urged.

She stilled as his fingers explored her.

He started with one finger, then he slid in a second one, stretching her again. Each time his fingers touched a spot inside her that made her want to scream out in pleasure. He knew exactly what he was doing, just how to touch her and make her writhe with pleasure.

“Now.” His lips moved back to her ear. “Hold on to the side of the tub.”

He pushed her forward in the bath. Some of the water splashed over the rim, though neither of them cared. Kneeling, she gripped the rim of the tub as she felt his fingers caress her rear beneath the water.

He must have found the soap somewhere in the bathtub, for he was suddenly using it to soap up her back and rear, reaching every part of her he could. He even toyed with her cleft, making her spread her legs as wide as the tub would permit.

Then she felt him. His length was nudging her entrance, once more teasing her with the promise of pleasure but not quite entering her.

“Keith,” she whispered. “Please.”

“Beg me,” he ordered suddenly.

“Beg you?” she repeated in amazement. He pulled his hips back a little. The torment was killing her. “Ah, please, Keith! Please, just… make love to me again.”

Then his length was back. He pushed into her without teasing her this time.

Her body stretched to accommodate him. With the lubrication from the bathwater, he slid into her easily. Any soreness she had felt was gone now.

He moved slowly, teasingly, brushing against that spot inside her that so badly needed his attention. She kept herself still, following his previous order as she gripped the rim of the tub.

His hands explored her, moving down her shoulder blades and the curve of her back to her rear and hips. He moved a little faster, not too hard, but just increasing the pace.

She knew he was being careful. Despite her words, he was clearly cautious of causing her more pain. Yet, every part of what he was doing was thrilling her.

“Don’t stop,” she begged.

“I have no intention of stopping,” he assured her, bending over her and biting down softly on her shoulder.

It somehow took her body to new heights of pleasure, and she had to work hard not to rock back against him as he thrust into her. Within seconds, she was teetering on the edge, her whole body wound tight with pleasure.

“Ye’re going to climax for me?” he said huskily in her ear. “Come on, Celia. Let me feel ye…”

It was as if her body had waited for his order. It was sudden, her walls tightening around his length. Her back arched as every muscle in her body seized. As she gasped and moaned, she could hear him growling behind her. He quickened his thrusts, and that’s when she felt it—his release. It somehow made their connection feel deeper, even more intimate, as they came down from their climaxes together.

Then he moved suddenly. He was still inside her as he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her back against him. They fell onto the side of the bathtub, both panting, their hands interlocked.

“Oh my,” Celia said as she rested her head on his shoulder. “I could get used to a life like this.”

As she closed her eyes, she fantasized about that life. It was just possible that Keith was the husband she had not expected but had deep down always wanted.

“Well, what do you think?” Elizabeth clasped her hands together happily. “It is a nice home, is it not? Did you like the garden? You can, of course, make changes, but my brother always kept it so pretty. What do you think?”

“Ha, Auntie, give her time to reply,” Frances said with a giggle as she and Celia flopped down into the rococo settee in the drawing room. “She has been rushed off her feet all morning with our mad tour. Celia, how about you just answer at your leisure—what do you think of your new home?” She gestured to the house around them.

Celia laughed at her new family. “I think it is very beautiful, indeed. It is also a lot to learn.”

She tried her best to stifle a yawn. After how much her body had been worked the day before, her tiredness was catching up with her.

It hadn’t helped that she had risen early to come down for breakfast, only to find her new mother-in-law waiting there with Frances, both intent on giving her a tour of the house. They had already toured the garden and every room of the house. She’d also been introduced to the servants, though there were so many that she was struggling to put a name to every face.

“The butler is… Orwell, is that right?” she asked Frances.

“Yes, that’s right. His brother, Oliver, is the groundskeeper.”

“Ah, right.” Celia wrinkled her nose, trying to commit all the names to memory.

“You’ll get used to it in time, dear. Do not worry,” Elizabeth said affectionately, walking behind her and patting her on the shoulder. “Now, let’s have tea. We can run through the particulars of how the house is run.”

As Elizabeth hurried off to ask where the tea they’d requested to be made was, Celia looked at Frances with raised eyebrows. Already, Frances was giggling again.

“She’s rather excited to see her son married,” Frances explained in a whisper. “There was a time where she feared he would never do it at all.”

“Never?” Celia sat forward in surprise.

This was something new to her. She had known Keith had pictured a very different wife from her, but to never have a wife at all? This was something new.

I wonder why he wanted no wife.

“Ah, here it is.” Elizabeth returned just a minute later. The housekeeper, Betty, was hurrying up behind her with a tray. “It was already prepared. Thank you, Betty,” she said affectionately.

“Not to worry, my Lady. Ring the bell if you need anything else.”

As the housekeeper hurried out, Elizabeth sat down in a chair and leaned forward excitedly. “Now, about your responsibilities…”

As she launched into a long list of things that Celia would now be responsible for as the Duchess, Celia poured the tea.

The list was so extensive that Celia began to wish she had made notes throughout the conversation. Intermittently, Frances laughed at her rather intimidated expression.

“Just a short list, isn’t it?” Frances murmured wryly when Elizabeth was halfway through the list.

“Oh, tiny,” Celia agreed, though she secretly hoped she would get used to these responsibilities in time.

Now that she was here, there was something rather exciting about being the lady of the household. If she could run this house right and assist Keith in the running of the duchy, she could be a partner to him.

A partner… as well as a lover.

She found herself smiling down at her tea at the thought of him and raised the cup to her lips.

“I think she’s a bit distracted for this conversation, Auntie. We can always finish this another time,” Frances said, sipping her own tea. “I think she’s a bit too in love to focus right now.”

Celia nearly dropped her teacup in surprise.

“Yes, perhaps so.” Elizabeth smiled joyfully. “Let us eat cake instead.”

As she served up the cake for her and Frances, Celia just stared at the doorway, obsessing over Frances’s words.

Love? Is that what this is, after all?

It certainly made sense. She now understood why Keith dominated her thoughts, why it was rather difficult to think of anyone else but him, and why it had crushed her so much when she had thought he was going to marry Lady Alicia.

“Your Grace?” Betty appeared in the doorway. “You have a visitor. It is a healer from Scotland.”

“A healer?” Celia said in surprise, putting down her teacup.

“Oh, it must be Mairi,” Elizabeth declared with a smile. “Keith said he sent for her.”

“Why? Is he unwell?” Celia murmured as an old woman appeared in the doorway.

With a tartan strap across her shoulder and a heavy leather bag, the old woman was the epitome of a Scottish lass. She had wild curly red hair that was starting to gray as she smiled broadly at them all.

“Ah, My Lady,” she called as she approached Elizabeth. “Aye, it is good to see ye again.”

“It is good to see you too,” Elizabeth said kindly, taking Mairi’s hand. “You must be tired from your journey. Come, rest awhile and have tea. My son said he brought you here to examine someone?”

“Aye, that’s right. A Lord Pembroke, I believe?”

Celia stumbled to a stop behind Mairi. “My father?” she whispered.

“Ah, Mairi, let me introduce you to my son’s new wife. This is the Duchess of Hardbridge.”

Celia stiffened. It was the first time she had been introduced by her new title.

“It’s lovely to meet you,” she said quickly to Mairi.

“And ye, lass. Ah, a pretty lass, I see.” Mairi smiled affectionately. “I am glad to see the master has settled down, at last.”

There were sudden sounds behind them in the hallway. Celia looked away and glimpsed Keith walking past the open door.

“If you would excuse me.” She excused herself fast and hurried out of the room.

Keith stood in the entrance hall, pulling on a frock coat. He hadn’t yet noticed her arrival. She used it as an opportunity to surprise him and ran toward him. He must have realized at the last second that she was approaching, for he whipped around. She barreled toward him and embraced him, holding him tight.

He chuckled softly, absorbing the impact as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

“What was that for, sweetheart?” he whispered in her ear.

“To thank you. Your healer has just arrived. She said you asked her to come here to examine my father?” She lifted her head.

“Aye, I did.” Strangely, Keith now seemed to be avoiding looking her in the eye. “I thought she may be able to help him. He said his doctor didn’t know what was wrong with him.”

“Thank you. It’s so… thoughtful of you.”

He released her.

Celia felt a coldness as she stepped back from him. Once again, he was avoiding looking her in the eye. All traces of his laughter were gone, and there was nothing of the warmth and heat they had enjoyed the evening before.

At that moment, a footman entered the hall.

“Ah, prepare my horse for me, please,” Keith said as he tugged up the collar of his coat.

“Wait… you’re going for a ride? Where?” Celia planned to go with him. They could repeat the race they had shared at Lady Arundel’s house.

“I need to go back. Now that ye can see to matters here in this house, it’s time I returned to Scotland.”