Chapter 14
“Wherein the delights of married bliss reveal themselves.”
28 th November 1820.
Justin hummed to himself as he washed and changed for dinner later that same day, looking forward to sharing the evening with his wife. He wondered if Bea would allow him to tumble her onto his lap again and suspected she would. Anticipation thrummed beneath his skin as he wondered what else she might allow him, if he were careful with her. He had meant what he said, he would wait as long as she wanted… but if she didn’t want, he was equally prepared to encourage her with all the skills at his disposal.
He turned as John held out his waistcoat for him and belatedly realised that his usually loquacious valet was quiet tonight. Shrugging into the waistcoat, he regarded the man who had been a better friend to him than any other he had known and frowned.
“Cat got your tongue, John? Why so troubled? Is aught amiss?”
John went to the bed where he had laid out a coat of bottle-green superfine and stared down at it for a long moment before seeming to come to a decision. “I’ve asked Rachel to marry me,” he said, glancing at Justin to see how this had been taken. “She said yes.”
Justin stared at his valet and then gave an exclamation of delight. “Why, John! Congratulations. We must celebrate. This is marvellous news… Isn’t it?” he added, regarding John with concern.
“Aye,” John said ruefully, grinning at him. “I never reckoned I’d find a lass willing to take me on, let alone one as pretty as Rachel.”
“Then why so Friday-faced?” Justin demanded with a laugh.
John frowned. “It’s just, I wondered… well, Rachel wants to know what will happen when we marry. There’s many households that won’t allow such things, you see, and so where would we live, and where would I get another job?”
He shrugged miserably as Justin stared with incomprehension.
“What the devil are you blethering on about? Another job? Not let you marry her? John, you’re talking to me. Me! As if I give a flying fig what anyone else in the ton does or does not approve of. Of course you must marry her. Indeed, I insist upon it, for I’ll not have such goings on under my roof, my man,” Justin said, wagging a disapproving finger at his incredulous valet and rather enjoying himself. “I shall march you up the aisle myself if I must, and what’s more, you’ll take that handsome cottage on the estate I told you I was furbishing up. Just the thing for a family, I should think, and only a five-minute walk from the house. It’s not like I shall need you to pour me into bed at ridiculous hours of the morning any longer. I’m a respectable married man now.”
John made a choked sound, and Justin was uncertain if it was shock, amusement, or some other emotion he dared not name, in case it embarrassed them both.
“I hope I’ve made myself clear, John,” Justin said sternly, grinning as his bewildered valet helped him into his coat.
John met his gaze in the looking glass and nodded, his eyes shining. “You have, my lord. Perfectly clear, and I thank you for it. I shall thank her ladyship, too. If you’ll forgive me for my impertinence, but the day she turned up on your doorstep was the most fortunate day in both our lives and that’s the truth.”
“That it was, John,” Justin said with a smile. “It certainly was.”
Bea sat at her dressing table, turning the lovely cravat pin she had bought Justin for Christmas back and forth in her hands. She wondered if she could wait until Christmas Day to give it to Justin, for she wanted to see him wear it, to see the devilish glitter in his eyes match the sparkling gem when he was merry and teased her.
“The ribbon you ordered arrived this morning, my lady,” Rachel told her, bustling about the room tidying after having dressed Bea for dinner. “There are yards and yards of it. Red and green, and gold too. I can’t wait to see the place all prettied up for holidays. Shall we all go and cut greenery like we used to with your pa?”
Bea turned at Rachel’s question, focusing on her words, for she had not been paying attention. “Ribbons? Oh, yes, indeed. I shall ask Justin tonight, but I’m sure he will. He enjoyed stirring the pudding and I think he wants to take part in all the Christmas rituals. With the way he was raised, he never had such pleasures and traditions, and I think he delights in discovering them as much as I do in sharing them with him.”
“That’s good, then,” Rachel said, smiling. “John is speaking to him tonight about our future,” she added nervously.
“Don’t worry, Rachel. It will all be well. Justin won’t disappoint you, I promise.”
“I hope he don’t disappoint you either, my lady,” Rachel said with a smile, hesitating with a bundle of petticoats for washing in her arms. “My lady?”
“Yes, Rachel?” Bea said, putting the cravat pin carefully away again.
“I… I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what with you having no mama to guide you… Well, do you know what to expect? From the marriage bed, I mean?”
Bea turned on the stool, gazing at Rachel with interest. “A little,” she said, frowning. “But… But do you know, Rachel?”
Rachel grinned and sat down on the bed, patting the space beside her.
“Come here, my lady, and I’ll tell you what you need to know.”
Justin watched his wife with interest as they finished their dinner. She had been in an odd mood this evening. Laughing and merry, but now and then he would catch her looking at him, a speculative gleam in her eyes. When he turned, she would blush and look away. It was most intriguing.
“I’ve told John that he and Rachel may have the cottage I showed you, the one closest to the house,” he told her as he drew out her chair, once the meal was done.
“Oh, Justin. I knew I could rely on you. Rachel was in such a dither, worrying she would have to leave her position, but I told her she need not if she did not wish to. Not until she had a baby, at least. Then we shall have to see, I suppose. You don’t mind?”
Justin shook his head. “Of course not. I think we have both been most fortunate in John and Rachel, and I would not diminish their happiness when they have been so good to us.”
Bea took his arm and reached up, kissing his cheek fondly and gazing up at him with such admiration he almost blushed. Blushed! Him! How extraordinary. Yet she made him feel green and remade in a way he had not thought possible.
“Shall we take a glass of something in your parlour, then?” he asked, looking forward to spending a delightful evening with her in his arms.
She bit her lip, avoiding his gaze, and shook her head. “I’m s-sorry, Justin. I’m rather tired tonight. I think I shall go up. Do you mind?”
“Oh.” Disappointment coursed through him, but he smiled and shook his head. “Of course not, love. Though I shall miss you.”
“Thank you, Justin,” she said demurely, and then fled the room.
Justin frowned, wondering what was wrong with her. Perhaps she had her monthly courses and was feeling under the weather. No doubt she was too embarrassed to mention it. Thinking he would have a drink in his rooms if he must be alone, he made his way back up the stairs to find John waiting for him, which was odd, as he’d not normally be up this early.
Before he could speak, John began going through the nightly ritual, tugging off his boots and pulling his coat from his shoulders.
“John, I’m not going to bed yet,” he protested.
“Why not? A good idea. Early night would do you good,” John insisted, putting toothpowder on his toothbrush.
Justin threw up his hands and gave in. First Bea, now John. Bewildered but resigned, Justin allowed the man to boss him about until he was finally left alone. Wearing only a heavy satin banyan, he sat by the fire in his bedroom, which John had built up to resemble a small inferno, and stretched out his legs, picking up a book to read. It was one of the novels that Bea had bought and given to him. He was barely three pages in when the door opened quietly.
Justin sighed and lowered the book, expecting to see John again.
“What the devil is wrong with you, man? I assumed you wanted rid of me to spend time with your beloved, but—”
The words died as he turned and saw Bea. She smiled nervously at him as, stunned, he took in the sight of her, her hair unbound and cascading around her shoulders in a curtain of gleaming chestnut locks. Dressed in a delicately embroidered white nightgown, the fabric so fine it looked gauzy and insubstantial, it clung to her delicious curves doing little to hide what lay beneath. She had covered her modesty with a pretty ruffled dressing gown, but as he watched, she allowed it to slide down her arms with a soft sigh of fluttering lace and ribbons.
“Bea,” he said stupidly, rooted the chair.
“Justin,” she replied, looking a little pleased with herself at his astonished reaction, as well she might.
“I thought you were tired. I thought—”
“I wanted to surprise you,” she replied, moving closer to him. “So I fibbed.”
“I am surprised,” he managed, his voice oddly hoarse. “And delighted.”
She grinned at him, looking so adorably smug he could not wait to kiss her.
“Come here,” he told her, setting the book aside and holding his arms out to her.
Bea walked to stand before him and he reached for her again, but she pushed his hands away, shaking her head.
Justin watched her cautiously, uncertain now. “You can trust me,” he told her, but before he could say more, she gave a huff and shook her head.
“If I didn’t think that, I should not be here,” she retorted, and then astounded him into speechlessness as she tugged at the delicate ribbon tie of her nightrail and opened the gathered neckline wide, letting it slide down her body to pool in an innocent puddle of white cotton at her feet.
Justin stared, his mouth suddenly dry, his every dream and desire displayed before him.
He got to his feet, tugging her into his arms and revelling in the feel of her warm, silken skin. Justin bent his head and touched his lips to hers. Her mouth was soft and giving and sweet, and desire exploded beneath his skin. Bea pressed closer, her body voluptuous and delicate at once, slender of waist and limb, but plush and plump in all the most interesting places. Justin deepened the kiss, his hands sliding down her back to cup her lovely behind and pull her closer against him. Her breath hitched as she felt the hard pressure of his arousal. He smiled against her mouth as she reached for the tie on his dressing gown, tugging at it with fumbling fingers, only managing to make a knot she could not loosen.
“Take it off,” she commanded impatiently.
Justin obeyed, delighted to submit to her every whim. He pushed her eager fingers aside and untied the knot, pulling the heavy satin aside. Her hot gaze drifted down his body, making his blood heat, surging through his veins like liquid paraffin touched by a match.
“Off,” she said again, breathless now, pushing the fabric from his shoulders.
“You are dreadfully autocratic,” he said mildly, loving that she had taken the situation out of his hands, that taking control of something that made her nervous gave her the courage to see it through.
“I know, but I think you do not mind it. Do you?” There was a note of anxiety there and he smiled, shaking his head.
The desire he saw in her eyes, the need, was enough to make his body rigid with longing, and he shrugged the banyan off, hearing it fall to cover the chair behind him.
“I don’t mind in the least,” he murmured, his body growing harder still as she stared at him in wonder. “I love it when you are brave, Bea, when you take what you want or need no matter what the world might think of it. So take me, my darling girl, take all of me, the wicked bits and the bits you can be proud of, for they all belong to you now.”
She touched the scar on his shoulder with delicate fingers, tracing where he’d been shot during his duel with Lavinia’s husband. His breath caught as she pressed a soft kiss to the ugly patch of skin before standing back again and perusing his body once more. Her gaze lingered on the place where his arousal was blatantly obvious, but now she looked up, meeting his eyes. “I want you, Justin. All of you, with no exceptions. Make me yours.”
“All in good time, love,” he told her, lifting her into his arms and setting her down again in the chair. “There’s no rush.”
She stared at him in confusion, an almost petulant look of frustration flickering in her eyes. “But Justin, I want you to make love to me. I don’t want to just sit here.”
“But you will just sit there,” he told her sternly, his lips twitching with the desire to smile and kiss the pout from her mouth. “And I shall make love to you.”
“Oh,” she said, her face clearing. “In a chair? Is that… normal?”
Justin swallowed a bark of laughter, not wanting her to think he was mocking her when he was charmed beyond reason. “What is normal for some is depraved for others, my sweet, so why don’t you make up your own mind, as you do about everything else?”
She considered this as he got to his knees, leaning in and pressing a kiss to her mouth, sighing with wonder at the realisation that she was really his, body and soul, as extraordinary as that seemed.
“Very well,” she said, sounding decided. She sat back in the chair, staring down at him. “What now?”
“Now, you just sit there and let me do all the work,” he told her, smiling helplessly as she burrowed deeper into his heart with every passing second.
She nodded at that, watching him with interest. His hands rested lightly on her knees, and he slid them down her legs to her ankles, lifting her foot to kiss her toes one by one, then the side of her foot, and then the arch beneath.
Bea gave a little squeal and pulled her foot free, giggling. “That tickles!” she protested, shivering. Justin’s eyes darkened as he saw the effect this had on her nipples, tightening the delicate pink into tight little buds that made his mouth water.
He grinned at her and dragged her foot back to his mouth, holding it still as she shrieked and squirmed and he laved his tongue between her toes.
“Stop, stop,” she said, panting breathlessly.
He chuckled at her theatrics and smiled. “Very well, for now, but one of these days I shall hold you down and tickle you and nothing you can say will make me stop.”
She gazed at him, interest sparkling in her eyes, and Justin knew without a doubt she would be a wonderful bed partner, for she was giving and brave and, he thought, not afraid to tell him what she wanted.
For now, he pressed a kiss to her ankle, sliding his hands back up to her knees, kissing her there too as he pushed her legs wide. Her colour rose as he did so, as he pushed his body into the gap and leaned in, sinking his hands into her beautiful hair and kissing her passionately. She met his passion with the full force of her own and he drew back with difficulty, only able to do so for the promise of tasting the delicious breasts that his mouth hungered for.
She gasped as he suckled, her hands holding his head against her, as if she would keep him there always. Not that he minded, her breasts were pillow soft, her skin lightly scented with the delicate perfume of lily of the valley and the uniquely feminine allure of her arousal. Justin pushed her gently back, tugging her legs towards him so she lounged in the chair, her legs splayed out on either side of him as he kissed his way down her body, over the gentle curve of her belly. He lingered to slide his tongue into her belly button for the delight of feeling her squirm beneath him before nuzzling into the dark thatch of springy curls. He glanced up at her then, wondering if her courage would desert her but she gazed back at him, her lips quirking.
“You look just like the fallen angel I once described you as,” she murmured, reaching out to tousle his hair fondly. “Wicked as sin, but all mine.”
“All yours,” he agreed, holding her gaze as he parted her gently and lowered his mouth to cover her feminine heat with his mouth.
Bea gasped, her eyes closing, head falling back against the chair and Justin smiled against her skin as he began his tender torment. He did not allow her a moment of repose, bringing her closer and closer to the peak she struggled for instinctively, before letting it slip from her grasp once more. If there was any good to be found in his decadent skills, he was determined that Bea would profit from them, pleasuring her with mouth and tongue and fingers until her lovely skin was flushed and damp, her eyes glazed with desire, her mind emptied of anything but the feel of his mouth on her, drawing her deeper and deeper into a seductive world she could explore to the fullest, with him as her guide.
When he finally relented, giving her everything she needed to reach the highest heights he could take her to, she shattered, crying out so loud and so long he felt a surge of triumph. His body ached, his arousal throbbing so hard as he watched her come apart, he almost followed her without her ever having laid a hand on him. Justin thought he had never seen anything so erotic, so stirring in his entire life, as the sight of his wife lost to passion.
She came around slowly, her gaze upon him unfocused and languorous as she sighed and stretched like a sleek, sated cat. “You can make love in a chair,” she said, sounding amused and pleased with herself.
Justin gave a bark of laughter, which sounded a tad desperate even to his ears.
“Come, my love. I need you now,” he told her, getting to his feet and tugging her up into his arms. She swayed, too relaxed to stand, so he scooped her up and carried her to the bed. When he laid her down, she only sighed, her limbs arranging themselves in a wanton pose that made his heart thud with mad desire, his entire body poised on a knife’s edge. Justin gritted his teeth, telling himself urgently to think boring thoughts.
“You need me?” she whispered, her lovely green eyes focusing hazily on him.
“I do. Desperately. Madly. This moment, love,” he told her, his voice trembling as much as his body.
What he needed was evident as he settled between her thighs, his hardness pressing against the part of her that must still be throbbing after his attentions. Bea’s eyes widened, staring up at him as a gasp escaped her.
“Will it hurt?” she whispered, suddenly less distracted than she had been.
“Perhaps a little,” he said, his voice soothing. “I’ll try my best not to, I promise, love. Relax if you can.”
“Relax?” she repeated impishly. “With th-that… there?”
She snorted irrepressibly, and he laughed, gazing down at her.
“God, I love you, Bea. I love you so much.”
She stilled at his words, reaching up to wind her arms around his neck. “I’m so glad, Justin, for I cannot stop loving you now, and I would hate to be the only one so afflicted.”
“I have the full measure of this particular torment, but we’ll suffer it together, side by side. For always.”
“Or one atop the other,” she added practically, making him snort this time, shaking his head with amusement. He could not remember ever laughing so with a lover, ever being so ridiculously happy and aroused and giddy with delight.
She closed her eyes and sighed as Justin pressed his mouth to her throat, painting butterfly soft kisses over her skin. He ducked his head again, taking her nipple into his mouth, suckling until she cried out, clinging to him.
“You like that, don’t you?” he said, not above feeling a little smug.
“I like all of it,” she said, sounding dazed. “But I love you most of all.”
Her breath caught and held abruptly as he pressed his arousal more insistently against the seam of her core. Bea’s sensitive flesh responded at once, though she still jolted in shock as he sought entry. Justin soothed her, kissing her deeply, caressing her body, easing his way inside with ever-increasing pushes and slight retreats that had her panting with a combination of pleasure and pain.
“Oh, God, Bea,” he groaned, out of his mind with the perfection of it, the feel of her feminine heat welcoming him inside. “So… So lovely…”
She tensed as he pushed on, and Justin groaned as he found he was fully inside her. He stilled, allowing her body to accept him. Bea breathed hard and steady, clutching at his shoulders. He felt her palms gliding over his hot skin, moving down his back to grasp his buttocks and Justin smiled inwardly as she kneaded and clung to him. He moved, sliding back and thrusting home again.
“Oh!” she cried. Bea’s eyes flew open as he retreated and pushed forward again, gently at first and then with increasing speed and force, as he loved her with all the skill and passion at his disposal.
“Justin!” she cried breathlessly, and he moaned, the guttural sound clearly pleasing her for her body reacted, squeezing around him.
“Oh, love,” he said, his voice ragged, groaning as she did it again, deliberately this time. He wondered at his own lack of control, at the difference there was between bedding a woman he desired but did not love, and making love to his wife, the woman who held his heart. It was as if music had been described to him and he understood what it was, but he’d never heard it himself before, but now it rang in his ears with such beauty he was overwhelmed by it.
“Don’t…” he managed desperately. “I can’t if you… Oh, Christ, Bea.”
He kissed her and Bea wrapped herself around him, clinging to him like she would never let him go. Don’t let me, he thought, holding her to him. Don’t ever let me go.
“I love you,” he said, needing to imprint the words on her mind, on the memory of this moment forever. “I love you. I need… always, Bea, for always…”
His body shuddered and jerked, and he uttered a coarse exclamation that he feared might shock her, but she just clung harder. Her body pulsed around him, squeezing and grasping at him, sending him higher than even he’d thought possible, as she held on tight and called his name, and the world fell away.