Deceived. Part 18

"G.o.d bless the duke and d.u.c.h.ess," the servants dutifully chorused, and then they exited the foyer to return to their duties.

"Please convey to the staff our thanks, Peters," the duke said. "Is the luncheon ready? We will be expecting Mr. St. John about two this afternoon. Will you see he is shown into the main drawing room?"

"Of course, my lord," the butler replied. "Luncheon is served."

A footman came forward to take the ladies' cloaks. Martha had already gone upstairs to fill Sally and Molly in on the wedding.

"If it please your grace," Peters said as they entered the dining room, "I have had the table set en famille with her grace on your right and Lady Mary Rose on your left hand."

They were seated, the duke at the head of the long, mahogany table, the ladies on either side of him. The places were set upon heavy linen mats with beautiful silver and fine crystal. The service plates were snow white with a wide gold band edging them. Soup plates were brought, and the hot clear consomme served, a thin, round wedge of lemon floated upon the surface of the soup. Aurora lay her nosegay upon the table to her right, noting that the flowers upon the table matched them.

"What a lovely day for a wedding!" the dowager said, attempting to break the ice and bring a sense of normalcy to their gathering.

"I had not noticed," Aurora said. The soup was wonderful, and took the chill from her extremities. A footman poured wine into her goblet, and she sipped it for contrast.

"It's unusual for us to have so bright and sunny a day in November, and not a cloud in the sky," the dowager continued.

"I don't even know what day it is," Aurora replied, sipping a bit more wine as she finished up her soup.

"Why it is the fourth of November, my dear," the dowager said. "Certainly you will always want to remember this date."

Aurora couldn't resist a small chuckle. "Certainly the entire county will remember it, so I may have no need to, for there will be plenty of people to remind me. It will be recalled as the day that dreadful Duke of Farminster married his second wife, and his first not even cold in her grave a week! And, of course, the d.u.c.h.ess is no better than she ought to be, y'know. Tossed over that fine Mr. St. John for a t.i.tle, she did, the ambitious jade!" She looked directly at her husband as she spoke, her manner mocking and bold.

But the duke was not in the least intimidated. He equaled her rhetoric with a bit of his own. "And, my precious, should you deliver a child in less than ten months' time, nay, a year, I think, we will be accused of carrying on a pa.s.sionate affair even while poor Calandra yet lived. I believe I should like that, wouldn't you?"

"Valerian!" his grandmother said. "You go too far."

"Do I, my precious?" he demanded of Aurora.

"Perhaps," she considered, and turned her attention to the meaty prawns that had been placed upon her fresh plate. They had been broiled in lemon b.u.t.ter and wine, and served upon a small patch of cress.

"The aquamarines suit you," he said softly, pleased to see her cheeks grow pink.

The trio now turned their full attention to the meal at hand. The fish course was followed by beef with small roasted potatoes, turnip, peas, a fat capon, a marrow pudding, and bread and b.u.t.ter. Aurora ate with her customary good appet.i.te. When the plates had been cleared away, Peters brought a small bride's cake iced in white and topped with a fully blown white rose. He set it before Aurora and handed her a silver cake knife. "Will your grace do the honors?" he asked.

"Now, how on earth did Cook manage that?" the dowager said.

"A small, uncut fruitcake was found in the pantry, your ladyship," the butler replied. "It was quite fortunate, as it is the last of Cook's supply, and time to make them again for the year."

"Please thank Cook," Aurora said, "and tell her the meal was superb, especially given the short notice."

"I shall tell her, your grace," Peters replied. Now, this was a d.u.c.h.ess. Not like the other lady, who never had a kind word for any of them, or ever said thank-you. And it had not been just his disapproving notice. His granddaughter, Molly, had had much to say to him on her late mistress. Moving sedately about the table, he poured champagne into the gla.s.ses provided.

The dowager raised her gla.s.s to her grandson and his bride. "To you both," she said. "Long life, happiness, and healthy children."

They drank, and then Valerian Hawkesworth raised his gla.s.s to Aurora. "To you, my precious, and to the truth, which you will always tell me from now on," he said, a twinkle in his eye.

"Perhaps," Aurora said, and then she lifted her gla.s.s, saying, "To Calandra."

The others raised their gla.s.ses solemnly, repeating, "To Calandra."

Aurora cut the cake, giving them all small slices of the dark, rich fruitcake. When they had finally finished, the dowager excused herself, claiming fatigue, but Aurora knew she did not wish to be there when St. John came to call. The clock in the foyer struck two o'clock as she and her husband entered the drawing room. Peters was already hurrying to open the front door, for St. John was always punctual. Aurora settled herself on a settee, her skirts spread about her.

"You look perfect, and are the most beautiful woman I have ever known," the duke said. Then he continued. "St. John will be quite piqued, I fear." He chuckled wickedly.

"If I did not wish to muss my attire," Aurora told him, "I should smack you, Valerian! If you expect St. John to act like a grown man, then you must stop behaving like a childish boy!"

He laughed even as the double doors to the drawing room were opened, and Peters announced, "Mr. St. John, my lord." Then, closing the doors behind the duke's guest, Peters left them.

Justin St. John's eyes went immediately to Aurora. They took in her attire, lingering a moment upon the necklace she wore. He was no fool. "Have you married her, then, Hawkesworth?"

The duke nodded.

"You b.a.s.t.a.r.d!" St. John replied, and turned angrily to go.

"Wait!" the duke called to him.

St. John turned. "Why? What more is there to say about it?"

"She is the heiress to St. Timothy, not Calandra," Valerian told his cousin, and then he went on to explain the deception that had been enacted, and how Dr. Carstairs, coming in place of Dr. Michaels, had revealed the truth to the duke after Calandra's unfortunate demise.

"Well, I'll be d.a.m.ned!" St. John chortled, his mood suddenly lightened. "So Aurora was your betrothed, and not Calandra. And if you had not learned of it, and I eventually had, then I should have been able to lay claim upon St. Timothy! Well played, cousin!"

Aurora stared at the two men, now embracing and clapping. "Well played?" She arose from the settee where she had been seated. "d.a.m.n you, St. John! Did you not love me? You said you felt for me what you had never felt for another woman!"

The two men turned to look at her, astounded. Only the duke really understood his bride's outrage. He grinned, and waited to see what she would do next. Poor St. John! He had no idea of how a woman who believed herself betrayed could behave.

"Why, my dear," St. John said, "I did not lie to you. I did feel for you what I had not ever felt for another woman, but that was because you were not like any other woman I had ever met. Each girl is different, and so, of course, I feel differently for each of them."

"So you did not really love me," she responded.

"I loved you in my fashion," he told her weakly.

"St. John, you are a seducer and a fool! I do not know which is worse," Aurora replied. "Why on earth were you prepared to marry me, then? To confound Valerian?"

"In part, yes," he admitted. "Could you not see how badly he wanted you, Aurora? And he could not have you! It was too delicious a situation to resist. The dowager saw a scandal in the making, and was very much on my side, and besides, it was time for me to start my nursery. My mother will be quite disappointed, for she desires grandchildren."

Aurora's fingers had wrapped themselves about a small vase upon the table next to the settee as he spoke. Now, as he finished with a small, apologetic smile, she grasped the vase and threw it at him with all the force she could muster. Surprise exploded upon his face as he ducked, but the vase slightly creased the side of his head before crashing to the floor and breaking into several pieces. The duke burst out laughing, then leapt across the s.p.a.ce that separated him from his wife, who had obtained a second missile and was prepared to launch it.

"Now, my precious," he murmured at her soothingly, "you must not be rude to poor St. John. He has answered your questions as honestly as he knows how. Come, Aurora, and let us all make peace." He yanked a china figurine from her fingers and put a restraining arm about her.

Aurora stamped down upon his foot with all her might, and as he yelped in pain, she pulled away from him. "You may, the pair of you, go to h.e.l.l!" she said, and then stalked from the drawing room.

"Spirited gel," St. John noted. "Perhaps you have done me a favor, cousin, by taking her off my hands. I don't think I could manage such a fierce firebrand, although I will admit," he confided wickedly, "that she kisses like an angel and has marvelous little t.i.ts."

"Do not honor me with your confidences regarding the lady who is now my wife, cousin. I might be forced to call you out, St. John," the duke told him pleasantly, but there was an undertone of menace in his voice. "Come, and let us have a whiskey before you ride home to break the news to your mother."

"Well," St. John responded sulkily, "I did leave her virtue intact, Hawkesworth. You might at least thank me for that. After all, we were to be married, and no one could have faulted me for breeching her." He accepted the cut-gla.s.s tumbler the duke handed him and sniffed at it appreciatively.

The duke laughed. "Very well, St. John, I thank you for leaving my betrothed wife's virginity for me to dispose of last night."

St. John laughed back. "Why, you devil! You were taking no chances, were you? I do believe that I am flattered, Hawkesworth." He raised his gla.s.s to the duke. "To her grace," he said.

Valerian Hawkesworth acknowledged his cousin's salute and lifted his own tumbler. "To her grace," he said, "and to you also, St. John. You are certainly the most gentlemanly cad I have ever known, even if we are related by blood."

The two cousins drank their whiskey in companionable silence for a few minutes, and then St. John said, "Who the h.e.l.l am I going to find to marry, Hawkesworth? Mama is going to be furious, and there will be h.e.l.l to pay. What about that tempting little Isabelle Bowen?"

"My grandmother has her marked for some baronet, but of course she has not introduced the two yet. I see no reason why you shouldn't make an attempt. Pretty wench. Modest dower, but the Bowens are quite respectable and a very old family. She would be most suitable, and she's innocent enough to be bowled over by your unctuous charms, St. John. Your mother would be quite pleased if you could pull it off. Best to catch Miss Bowen before she grows much older and discovers what a rogue you really are, cousin," he finished with a chuckle.

"I shall play the heartbroken lover," St. John said thoughtfully. "Young girls always adore comforting a man whose heart has been hurt by some other vixen. You don't mind if I suggest Aurora is a villainess, do you, Hawkesworth? Not a wicked one, of course, but a wee bit of a one. Tampered with my affections knowing all along how she had deceived you and was now deceiving me." His look was that of a saddened lover.

The duke burst out laughing. "Be heartbroken if you will, St. John, but do not make my wife out a villainess. The truth will serve you quite nicely. You must be generous in your crushing grief. It will play better, I suspect. Also, you will have to turn your talents to overcoming any objections that the Bowens have regarding your suitability as a son-in-law. Win Isabelle over first, however. Sir Ronald will not like losing a t.i.tle for his daughter. I will a.s.suage my grandmother's disappointment by reminding her that the next Bowen chit will be marriageable in just three or four more years. If the baronet is loath to settle down, a few more years should not matter to him."

"Why on earth would the Bowens object to me?" St. John asked. "I am young, healthy, extremely handsome, and rich. What more could they possibly want in a son-in-law, Hawkesworth?"

"My dear St. John," his cousin answered him, "you are indeed all those things, but you are also an undeniable rascal. You have broken any number of hearts, and if rumor is to be believed, you have at least two b.a.s.t.a.r.ds to your credit."

"Three," St. John murmured, unabashed. "The daughter of the innkeeper at the Three Swans has recently presented me with a girl child. I do acknowledge the little ones, and pay their mothers a generous yearly stipend as well as seeing to their baptisms."

Hawkesworth laughed all the harder. "I am certain that Sir Ronald and Lady Elsie will be most impressed by your Christian charity. We get ahead of ourselves, however. First you must entice Miss Isabelle Bowen in your web of love. Once you have done that, the battle is half won."

"And if not, I shall have to go to London to see if I can find some sweet little debutante whose down-on-her-heels but utterly old family will not blink at my reputation, so blinded are they by my fortune and lands." Putting his tumbler down, he grinned at the duke. "I wish you more happiness this time, Hawkesworth, than you had with your last marriage. For all our rivalry, we are family and best friends."

The two men shook hands, embraced, and then the duke walked with his cousin out into the afternoon, where one of the grooms stood waiting with St. John's horse. Mounting the beast, St. John gave the duke a wave, and then rode off in the direction of Primrose Court. Hawkesworth watched him for a few minutes and then returned to the house. It was time that he and his wife began getting seriously acquainted.

Peters greeted him, saying, "Her grace will not allow us to move her things into the d.u.c.h.ess's rooms, my lord."

"Nor should you, Peters. At least not until the rooms have been totally redecorated. You can understand that my wife would not want to sleep in the place where her sister has so recently died. Tell her servants to leave her grace's possessions where they are. I will discuss the refurbishing with my wife shortly."

"Of course, my lord," the butler said. "It was thoughtless of us to have attempted to move her grace under the circ.u.mstances."

The duke hurried up the stairs to Aurora's room, but she was not there. He went to his grandmother's room, where the dowager was sleeping. Where the h.e.l.l could Aurora have gone to, he wondered as he entered his own bedchamber. Then he gaped in shock. She lay curled upon a hip in the center of his bed, resting her body upon an arm and an elbow, her heart-shaped face supported in the palm of her hand. She was stark naked but for the necklace of aquamarines about her neck. A fire crackled in the fireplace, the light of the flames mingling with the light from the setting sun.

"I have decided to forgive you, Valerian," she said, breaking the silence between them. "You were absolutely right about St. John. He is a scoundrel." She shifted her legs just slightly, allowing him a fine view of the thick thatch of tight brown-gold curls between her thighs. Then she ran the tip of her tongue along the top of her lip.

"How in G.o.d's name did you manage to preserve your virginity so long?" he demanded of her. He shrugged off his coat, and, unb.u.t.toning his waistcoat, lay the two garments upon a chair. Moving back to the bedroom door as he undid his cambric shirt, he turned the lock, and spinning about, yanked off the shirt, saying, "I shall need your help with my boots, Aurora. Come here," he commanded, and watched with pleasure as she slid off the bed and walked toward him.

"What shall I do, my lord?" she murmured.

Seating himself in a chair, he said, "Straddle one of my legs, and then pull the boot off, my precious." Then he grinned, delighted at the sight of her pretty bottom. It was as round as a peach, and when she grasped his right boot and began to pull, he was unable to resist placing his left foot upon her and and pushing gently.

"Ooofff!" she grunted as the first boot slid off, and she set it aside, bestriding his other leg and drawing off the second boot.

He peeled his stockings off, and when he stood again, she began to undo his breeches. Shaking his head, he said, "If I had not sprung you myself, I should be in serious doubt as to your chast.i.ty."

"Don't you want to make love to me?" she said softly.

"Yes, I do," he admitted as she pulled the breeches over his hips, leaving him to finish the job, and slipped his drawers down to complete her task. "Tell me, did St. John light this fire in you?"

Aurora shook her head. "Since my childhood I have known how to pleasure myself," she told him. "I am wise enough to have known that I must keep this part of my nature secret, and not be called wanton, or shame my family, but the hunger was always there. Last night you were able to satisfy that hunger. I want you to do it again!" She pressed her naked body against his, slipping her arms about his neck. "Do I shock you? Calandra, I know, was my opposite. She told me she did not like the act. I do, Valerian. I like it very much. Can we do it twice again? I was so surprised that you could do it twice in one night!"

He wanted to laugh. She was wonderful! Ingenuous, innocent, and knowing all in the same moment. She was a gift after his marriage to her coldhearted sister. "This pa.s.sion of yours," he said softly, his arms wrapping about her, "must be reserved for me, my precious. You do understand that, do you not?"

She nodded, and then her hand slipped down to push between them and grasp his member. "It is so hard," she noted, and then loosed her grip upon him and began to caress it. "Do you like that as much as I like it when you stroke my b.r.e.a.s.t.s? You do not mind if I ask you such questions, do you? I want to please you as you have pleased me."

"Yes," he said slowly, "I like it when you touch me. There are other ways you can give my member pleasure besides petting it, but if you are fearful, or repulsed, I will understand."

"How?" Her tone was filled with curiosity.

"Kneel before me," he said softly.

"What?" Her voice was surprised.

"Kneel before me," he said, and when she complied with his request he took his manhood in his hand and rubbed it gently across her lips. "You can use your tongue on it, or suck on it," he told her.

Aurora's heart was beating wildly. There was something so exciting about the forbidden, and this was certainly a forbidden thing. She touched him with just the tip of her tongue. He said nothing. Emboldened, she licked vigorously about the ruby tip of him, and when he removed his hand she bent her head slightly and licked the length of him several times. Then, unable to help herself, she opened her mouth and took him into it, her tongue working fiercely as her own excitement level rose with each pa.s.sing second. He was warm and hard, and smooth. The taste of him was musky and salty. She sucked on him, and felt his fingers kneading her head, encouraging her, and then he grated at her to cease, and when she could not seem to stop, he pulled her away, yanking her up to face him once again.

"Would you swallow me whole, my precious?" he demanded.

"Yes!" she said, her eyes bright with her desire.

He laughed, amazed at her capacity for l.u.s.t. "Turnabout is but fair play, Aurora," he told her. "Let me show you." Taking her by the hand, he drew her over to the bed, sitting her down so that her legs were hanging over. "Lay back," he said, and when she had, he knelt and slowly drew her legs down and over his shoulders.

"What are you doing?" she cried out nervously.

He did not answer her, instead burying his face in the soft nest of curls and kissing her plump, warm mound. She did not protest, instead sighing with obvious pleasure. He then parted her nether lips with his two thumbs and touched her little pleasure b.u.t.ton with just the tip of his tongue. He heard her draw a sharp breath, and smiled to himself. With his whole tongue he slowly licked the coral walls of her love grotto, pushing his tongue into her channel, withdrawing it to return to her pleasure b.u.t.ton, which he then began to sweetly torture.

Aurora could not restrain herself, and she moaned with open enjoyment. "Ohhhh, Valerian, that is absolutely wicked. Don't stop. I beg you! Please, don't stop! I shall die of delight! Oh! Oh! Oh!"

Her love juices began to flow, and he lapped them up eagerly. "So you like it, you little wanton," he growled at her, and then he was mounting her and pushing himself into her. "Do you like this too, my precious?" He thrust hard, and she half sobbed, "Yes!" and hearing her, he began a fierce rhythm, thrusting and withdrawing, thrusting and withdrawing, until her head was thrashing wildly. "Put your legs about me," he said in a deep tone, and when she obeyed he was able to push deeper into her hot, wet sheath.

She could feel him inside her, throbbing and pulsing. He was such a fierce but tender lover, and she wanted him to go on forever. "Don't stop," she begged him. "Don't stop!" Her nails began to rake down his back as the pleasure overtook her. He groaned against her mouth, his tongue, ripe with her musk, arousing her as she had never before been aroused. Her body had joined him in the primitive pa.s.sion, pushing up to meet his downward thrust. Her legs were wrapped tightly about his torso. I am going to die, she thought as she felt herself beginning to soar and spin out of control. Stars and moons were exploding in her head, and the pleasure was tearing her apart. She cried aloud.

He didn't want to stop. She was the most exciting woman he had ever known. He desired her above all women. He wanted her so badly that even in the act of possessing her his loins yet ached with longing. He was on the brink of death, and he didn't care. It was worth it. It had all been worth it just to possess that incredible creature who was his wife. He was falling into darkest s.p.a.ce, and yet he could feel his manhood erupting its juices to flood her secret garden with life. He collapsed.

Together they lay gasping, struggling for breath, and when at last they had managed to quiet their raging hearts, Valerian Hawkesworth gathered Aurora into his arms, weakly drew the coverlet over them, and they slept.

They were awakened by a discreet knocking at the door, and heard Browne's voice calling. "My lord. My lord."

"Yes, what is it?" the duke asked sleepily.

"It is after nine o'clock, my lord. Will you and her ladyship be wanting supper before the staff retires?" the valet said.

"Bring a tray, whatever is available, and champagne too," Valerian Hawkesworth responded. "You may leave it outside the door, Browne. Just knock to let us know it's there."

"Yes, my lord." They heard the retreating footsteps.

"Do you think the servants are shocked?" Aurora wondered.