Chapter Eighteen #2
She touched his cheek and nodded. “My beloved, with full heart and steady hand, I give myself to thee—freely, wholly, and without reserve. Thy name shall be my comfort, thy arms my home. I shall walk beside thee through all of life’s tempests and triumphs, ever seeking to bring thee peace and gladness.
As long as breath is mine, my love shall be thine. ”
Mr. Donaldson cleared his throat yet again, but not with quite as much irritation as before.
“Let us pray. Oh eternal God, Creator and Preserver of all mankind, Giver of all spiritual grace, the Author of everlasting life; send thy blessing upon these Thy servants, this man and this woman, whom we bless in Thy name; that, as Isaac and Rebecca lived faithfully together, so these persons may surely perform and keep the vow and covenant betwixt them made, whereof this ring given and received is a token and pledge, and may ever remain in perfect love and peace together, and live according to thy laws; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”
He reached forward and joined Drake and Felicity’s right hands together.
“Those whom God hath joined together, let no man put asunder.” Then he held a hand up and looked to the congregation.
“Forasmuch as Drake Bartholemew Pemberton and Felicity Bethianna Jasmine Abarough have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth either to other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving of a ring, and by joining of hands, I pronounce that they be man and wife together, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
He snapped his fingers at shuffling in the pews, then turned to Drake and Felicity as he continued, “God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Ghost, bless, preserve, and keep you; the Lord mercifully with his favor look upon you; and so fill you with all spiritual benediction and grace, that ye may so live together in this life, that in the world to come ye may have life everlasting. Amen.”
“Amen!” shouted one of the more exuberant children who had escaped the clutches of their nanny.
The church erupted with laughter and more shouts of “Amen!”
Drake took Felicity’s hands in his and kissed them. “We are married, my angel.”
“Married at last,” she said. “Married at last.”
The musicians struck up a lively tune, and the family swarmed them as they hurried down the aisle and swept outside to the cheering villagers who had gathered to wish them well.
Happier than he could ever remember being, Drake helped Felicity up into the ribbon- and flower-bedecked barouche that would take them to Broadmere Hall for the wedding breakfast that Felicity had planned but entrusted Cook and Mrs. Bean to prepare.
As they rolled away from the church, Drake tossed handfuls of coins to the anxiously awaiting children.
Felicity’s brother had insisted upon providing bags of pennies, saying it was his right and place to do so.
Drake had chosen not to argue, even though it had stung his pride until Felicity assured him it was the bride’s family who usually treated the village children to the wedding scramble.
Even though the tradition was more commonly known in Scotland, the young ones of Binnocksbourne caught on to it with great gusto.
“Have a seat now, my lord. Wouldn’t want to tip you out on your wedding day.
” With a hearty wink, Drake’s driver, John, tipped his hat, which had been decorated with ribbons and flowers that matched the ones festooning the carriage.
“God bless you both, Lord and Lady Wakefield. I be wishing you endless years of happiness.”
“Thank you, John.” Drake settled into the seat beside his new wife, unable to imagine being any happier.
Felicity slid her hand into his, beaming at him with such love, he considered himself the most blessed man in all creation. “To endless years of joy.”
He couldn’t resist. He leaned forward and kissed her, breathing her in like a man starving for air.
Behind them, the villagers cheered even louder, sending them on their way with the very best possible start to their lives as husband and wife.
*
“You are shaking, my lady,” Daisy said with a knowing smile. “Did your sisters frighten you with all they told you about your wedding night?” She unwound Felicity’s hair and brushed it until it was a golden river of curls streaming down across Felicity’s shoulders.
“I am not so sure frightened would be the apt word.” Felicity pulled in a deep breath and rubbed her damp palms against the lace-trimmed chemise her sisters had presented for her to wear on her wedding night, along with their advice on what to expect.
She almost wished they hadn’t told her in such startling detail of all the reportedly wondrous feelings a husband and wife could share.
“I am not frightened,” she repeated, more to convince herself than to convince her maid. “I am simply nervous.”
“All that matters is the love, my lady.” Daisy set the hairbrush on the dressing table and stepped aside with a reassuring smile. “That’s what my mum always said, and she would know. Her and my da never had much, but they always had love to spare.”
“I know I love him,” Felicity said, “and he loves me. I am sure of it.”
“Good night, my lady.” Daisy eased out of the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click.
Felicity remained sitting in front of the dressing table, eyeing herself in the mirror.
Heart pounding, she wet her lips and tried to slow her breathing as she turned and looked at the door connecting her bedchamber with Drake’s.
This was home now, the home she and Drake would return to its former glorious state and fill with love and laughter.
She went to the door and took hold of the latch. How in heaven’s name could she be so eager to run into the arms of the man she loved, and so reluctant at the same time? Were all brides this way, or was she simply mad? Well, if she was mad, then mad about Drake she would be.
After a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and squeezed the latch, only to find it locked. Locked?
“Drake?” She hesitantly rapped on the door.
“Come in, my angel.”
“I cannot. The door is locked.”
“Locked?” The soft thud of his footsteps grew louder, then the latch rattled. “Bloody hell.” It rattled again, harder this time. “Damn and blast it all.”
Felicity couldn’t help but giggle. Their entire relationship had been fraught with mishaps. Why should their wedding night be any different?
The door shook with a hard bang as something quite solid hit it. “Damned English oak. You worthless piece of…”
Before Drake injured himself and swore any more profusely at the stubborn door, Felicity rushed out into the hall and hurried to his bedchamber door, which, thankfully, was not locked. “Drake?”
He had the iron rod from the hearth hooked through the latch of the connecting door and was about to pry the thing free of its frame. “Felicity.” He dropped the rod and brushed his hands on the seat of his breeches, looking as sheepish as a schoolboy caught being naughty.
She bit her lip, trying not to laugh. “Did you hurt yourself when you hit the door? I assume you rammed it with your shoulder.”
“I used my good shoulder.” He ambled closer, making her catch her breath at the sight of him with his shirt open at the throat. “That door will be opened tomorrow,” he said as he gently pulled her into his arms, “and it will never be locked again.”
She hesitantly ran her hands up the ridges of his muscular chest, her breath hitching. “I know we are married, but this still feels quite scandalous.” She brazenly pressed closer and offered up her mouth to him. “I do not mean to shock you, but I am most ready for more of your delectable kisses.”
He grinned as he bent to brush teasing nibbles across her lips. “Delectable, you say?”
“Indeed, most delectable.”
As he obliged and cupped her bottom with both hands, her senses reeled. She returned his kisses with a wildness that shocked her, but dear heavens, to be in his arms felt so indescribably right and made the room overly warm.
“Clothes,” she whispered against his mouth.
He drew back and arched a brow. “Clothes?”
A furious blush had to be staining her cheeks, because they burned as hot as a stoked oven, but she pressed on, determined to be the passionate lioness rather than the skittish mouse.
To force herself out of her temporary shyness, she cleared her throat.
“We are wearing entirely too many clothes. Do you not agree?”
“I do indeed.” He eased back a step while untucking his shirt, then stripped it off over his head.
She had seen his bare chest before while tending to him after the shooting, but this…this did not compare. The candlelight lent a golden glow to his skin that made her palms itch to touch him.
He unbuttoned his falls and let his breeches drop to the floor, revealing a masculinity the likes of which she had never seen in any painting or sculpture.
“Oh my.” She pressed a hand to her throat, unsure exactly how they could possibly fit together.
He hurried back to her, pulling her into his arms and whispering, “It will be all right, my angel. We shall take our time and discover every joy we are meant to know.” Ever so gently, he untied the neckline of her chemise and slid it off her shoulders, kissing a trail along her collarbone as he let it crumple lower.
“My goddess,” he murmured against her while teasing her to distraction with artful flicks of his tongue. “My angel.”
Without warning, he swept her up into his arms and carried her to the bed, easing her down among the pillows. “I love you, my darling wife, forever and a day.”
“I love you more.” She reached for him, aching for more, longing to lose herself in his embrace.
She buried her fingers in his thick hair as he kissed his way back down her throat and worshipped each of her breasts.
“Oh, dear heavens.” She wrapped her legs around him.
The feel of him sliding against her inner thighs drove her mad.
Then he kissed and nibbled lower still while stroking his hands the length of her.
Crouched between her legs, he paused long enough to blow a tickling breath of air across her most private curls while sliding his fingertips through the wetness in the place no man had ever touched before.
Heaven help her. What kept a person from dying of such pleasure?
But then he slid a finger inside while closing his mouth around a part of her that felt ready to explode from such undeniable bliss.
The more he touched her, the harder he sucked, the more the aching throbbed, making her heartbeat pound in her ears.
A shriek burst free of her as the ecstasy spiraled out of control, reached its pinnacle, and shook through her in crashing waves of pleasure.
Drake kissed his way back up the length of her as the wondrous feeling ebbed but still vibrated through her, leaving in its wake a delicious sense of completeness.
Well, almost complete. Even though he had sated her ache with expertise and delightful finesse, there was more she needed.
She needed him to join with her, unite them, make them one rather than two.
“More,” she whispered against his mouth while arching up to meet him. “Show me more. Make me yours.”
He smiled down at her. “As I am yours, so are you mine.” With a shift of his hips, he nudged against her, easing his way inside. As he tenderly kissed her, a groan rumbled free of him, and he pressed his forehead to hers. “Gads alive. You are so very tight.”
“Is that bad?” she asked, a little more than breathless with each passing moment.
“No, my love.” He pushed in deeper still, then paused again. “I simply do not wish to hurt you.”
She smoothed her legs up and down his sides, unable to keep from wiggling beneath him.
She needed more and needed it now. “My sisters said it’s just a little sting and well worth it.
” Beyond the point of worrying about being brazen, she raked her fingers down his back and squeezed his buttocks.
“More, my love. Take me fully. Please—I beg you.”
With a quick thrust, he rocked into her, making her gasp at a sudden tearing sensation that was as bearable as her sisters had described. Immediately, he halted and stared down at her, his eyes filled with worry. “Are you all right, my love? Shall I stop and leave you be?”
“Do not dare leave me be, or I shall never forgive you.”
“I could not bear to be unforgiven by you.” He settled into a slow rhythm that promised the return of the earlier ecstasy.
A most unladylike moan escaped her, but she didn’t care as she arched to meet him with every thrust. Yes, that wondrous bliss was well within reach, and this storm of passion promised to be even more satisfying than before.
Much to her delight, the rhythm of the ancient dance moved faster, harder.
Euphoria exploded, crashing through her like the waves of a stormy sea.
With a roaring bellow, Drake buried deep and held fast, shuddering with every muscle tensed.
Then he collapsed on top of her, catching himself on his forearms to keep from crushing her.
She pulled him down the rest of the way, reveling in the heat of his flesh sliding against hers.
Now, she fully understood why mamas kept their daughters closely chaperoned and away from rogues and rakes.
He pressed a slow, tender kiss to her forehead. “Gads alive, woman. I love you more than you will ever know.”
“Was I all right, then?” She knew it had been wonderful to her, but would a man of experience find the same pleasure?
He rose and stared down at her, slowly shaking his head. “You were perfection itself, my love. Not merely all right.” He idly smoothed a stray curl out of her face, then traced his thumb across her cheek. “Never before have I experienced such a wondrous completeness, my love, all because of you.”
She smoothed her hands up and down his sides, unable to get enough of touching him. “And to think, all this started with coddled eggs and soldiers.”
He laughed and kissed her heartily enough to stir and reawaken that lovely ache at her core that he seemed to control. “To coddled eggs and soldiers, my love, the supper of lovers.”