Chapter Thirty-Four
Lord Kendrick, Duke of Alton
After paying the hackney driver, I joined Lillian on the stairs to our London house.
“I believe it is customary for the groom to carry his bride over the threshold.” I slid my arm around Lillian’s waist and pulled her tight to my side. She’d been quiet for most of the journey to London from Liverpool, and I wanted to lift her spirits.
“Are you teasing me?” Wide eyes met mine and a pretty flush touched her cheeks. In the month we were in Scotland, I had seen Lillian begin to shine. She had free reign to write and follow her physical passions. Now that we were back in London, she’d been more subdued. It pained me to see her thus.
“No. I’m perfectly serious.” Gripping her waist, I bent and caught her under the knees. I lifted her into my arms. Her green traveling skirt caught on my wrist, the material riding up to expose her silk stockings
Her eyes widened at my bold move and her laughter floated in the air. She wrapped her arms around my neck, the light back in her smile. “I pray you don’t hurt yourself.”
“Never.” I stared at the closed door for a moment before I met her amused regard.
Her lips were upturned and I couldn’t resist kissing her sweet mouth.
She returned my kiss without a second of hesitation.
Sounds from across the street faded into the background.
Contentment washed over me. I would never tire of kissing Lillian.
Someone cleared their throat, and I broke the kiss. A passing couple was strolling by the front of the house, the man tipping his hat. His companion giggled.
Lillian buried her nose in my neck. “I think we are creating a scene.”
“I believe you are correct. Will you knock on the door? My hands are full.” I rested my head against hers, pleased by her teasing.
She’d been depressed over leaving Colt and I couldn’t blame her.
It had been hard to leave him behind, but he had chosen his path.
I had a life with Lillian and an estate of my own to run.
Responsibility was a constant yoke around my neck and although I had technically been in Scotland on business, the entire month was spent in profligate pleasure.
“You should put me down. You might hurt yourself.” She used her foot to tap on the door, her green poke bonnet brushing my cheek.
“You are light as a feather, I—”
The door opened to reveal Frank. The butler lifted one trimmed eyebrow, a light of amusement in his gaze. He stepped aside while I entered with my bride. “Your Graces. Welcome home,” he said.
“Thank you, Frank. It is good to be home.” I nodded to the servant before I strode down the hallway, Lillian still in my arms.
“We are over the threshold. You may put me down now if you wish,” she said, her breath warm against my ear. Despite her words, she continued to cling to my neck.
The house smelled the same, a mixture of clay and lemon wax.
The warmth of the wooden floor was a far cry from the cold stone floors of the Scottish castle.
In a true twist, it reflected the two separate parts of my life; the old and the new.
“I’m afraid that isn’t possible because we have yet to reach our destination. Frank, the door to my studio.”
“Of course, Your Grace.” He rushed ahead of me and opened the requested door. With a quiver to his mustache, he asked, “Would you care for refreshments to be brought in?”
“We will ring when we’re ready,” Lillian said, a knowing look in her eye. Our minds and bodily cravings were often in sync and I wanted to be alone with her, more than I needed to breathe at this moment.
Frank nodded as he bowed himself out. “Very good, my lady.”
I stepped into the studio, the familiar room welcoming me.
My work space looked much the same as I left it.
The wheel had been cleaned in my absence and the shelves were empty, just waiting for me to start making pots again.
I listened for the door to click shut before I strode to the seating area in the corner.
Two chairs flanked the fireplace with a shaker style table positioned between them.
A stack of books were neatly placed on the matte finish.
Colt had often commandeered one of the chairs as I worked on my art.
An unexpected catch caught in my throat and I swallowed.
The room seemed empty without him. “I can’t decide what I wish for more, to sculpt you, or bed you. ”
Soft lips explored my jaw, her fingers anchored at the nape of my neck. Lillian’s seduction was a welcome distraction. I sat in the chair, her bottom snuggled in my lap.
“I vote for bedding,” she said.
“I second your motion.” I moved my arm from beneath her legs and my elbow knocked into the books. One long, slender journal fell to the floor. She glanced down, and the eagerness drained from her face. Sadness returned, a noticeable hitch in her breath.
“That’s Colt’s. I recognize the binding.
” She disengaged her arms from around my neck.
I anchored her waist as she bent over and picked it up from the floor.
The leather cover was worn in places and scarred from use.
She leaned against me and flipped it open to reveal a row of numbers in Colt’s familiar handwriting.
“It is one of many estate journals.” I raked a hand through my hair, the mood dampened by the reminder of him. We both were enamored of Colt and her pain tugged at my heart.
She held it to her chest and exhaled. “I suppose now that we’re home, your mother will insist I learn about the household at Alton.”
“Are you in a rush to leave me?” I asked, unable to keep the hurt from my voice. It was silly to be so vulnerable over the inevitable. The honeymoon was over and life would continue on, without or without Colt. It was disheartening, but it was my reality.
“No, never.” She turned to look at me and I caught a flash of fear in her eyes until she averted her gaze. “I was simply making an observation.”
“I think you are correct in your assumption. Just because my mother wishes it, doesn’t mean you have to grant her wish.
You’re the duchess now.” I slipped my forearm around her waist and nuzzled her soft neck.
She tilted her head, allowing me access to the column.
I spread kisses along the silky length. It was hard enough to have Colt gone from my life.
I couldn’t imagine being out of Lillian’s company for long.
Our marriage was still new, and I was growing more and more fond of her every day.
Or maybe it was purely selfishness on my part.
I hated being alone. Always before, I had Colt with me, thus I never truly felt alone.
He was no longer here. I skimmed my hand up her side, needing to lose myself in her receptive body.
She was warm and alive beneath my fingertips and I slipped the buttons of her jacket from their moorings.
She twisted in my lap, her lips playing over mine as she slipped the fashionable wool off her shoulders. “It is even harder to say no to your mother than it is to you,” she said between slow, sultry kisses.
I laughed at her quip, unfastening the waistband of her skirt. “I would like to think it the other way around.”
“Yes, I would imagine you would.” She stood long enough to strip the material off her hips, her gaze never leaving mine. “A prisoner to your every whim.”
“Indeed. That is a very tantalizing proposition.”
“I believe the word you are looking for is unobtainable, not tantalizing.” Nimble fingers unfastened the placard of my trousers before she slipped my cock from my small clothes. The teasing light in her eyes reeled me in.
“We shall see about that.” I nibbled at her bottom lip, my need growing with each caress.
“Yes, we shall see.” She angled her jaw, her mouth pressing against mine. I delved my tongue between her lips, absorbing the heady taste of woman and promise.
The book fell to the floor once more, a reminder of Colt and the past. Lillian was my present, and I owed her my full attention.
Even now, she could be carrying my child.
The thought both thrilled and frightened me.
It was only a matter of time before we had a family.
The title had always been bigger than me, which only added to my resentment.
I was a selfish sot. She straddled my hips and lowered herself onto my cock. Jaw slackened, she moaned deep in her chest. Her moist heat encompassed me, her hands seizing my shoulders. I held her passion-glazed stare and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear.
This was our first encounter with just the two of us since our wedding night.
Both of us missed Colt, which made our encounter even more poignant.
Sensations built upon one another, each press of her lips to mine, adding an extra dimension to our coupling.
She rocked her hips, meeting my every thrust.
My pulsed raced with need and I was close to losing what little control I had left. I slipped my hand over her leg, seeking the sensitive flesh at the juncture of her thighs. Her moans grew louder with each caress of my fingertip, her labored breath matching my own.
Head thrown back, she dug her nails into my shoulders. A flush bloomed along her neck to the underside of her chin. She was beautiful in her pleasure, her damp cunny clutching my cock. I gripped her arse and allowed the pleasure to flow through me.
She slumped over me, her hair brushing my face.
I splayed my hands on her plump bottom, enjoying the silky feel of her skin against my palm.
With each passing day, she’d blossomed like a flower in spring.
As her husband, I tried my best to encourage her and bolster her confidence.
Her friendship was invaluable to me and I wanted to see to her every need.
My affection for her had grown since our engagement.
Was it love, or simply infatuation? My history would say the latter.
With Lillian, I would have a lifetime to find out.
We were bound together, and even if the lust faded, I would always have her friendship.
Unless she grew to hate me because I lacked the ability to love.
That was a fate I didn’t dare contemplate, yet it lingered at the back of my mind.