Chapter 48
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Mind in a blur, Milton hauled Lizzie past footmen lining hallways, past statuary and vases overflowing with blooms. The bouquets brushed his body as he dragged her at a terribly fast clip, her anger continuing to pulsate, vibrate between them.
He was in awe of this woman who’d just spat like a common fishmonger’s wife upon the Duke of Lennox’s feet.
“Milton.” His wife’s voice remained clipped. “I will apologize for my public display just now, but I will not apologize for my words to that man. Because he is the most wretched, abominable, most—”
Milton pressed her up against the wall in a kiss so urgent, he paid no heed to the stony footmen and marble busts that stared their fill.
“Don’t you dare apologize, woman.” He dipped his lips for another wild kiss, his heart pounding madly in his breast. “It is I who must apologize, I who am speechless before your bravery. I am more humbled, more proud, more—”
She looked back at him, thoroughly confused. “Milton, I just destroyed all chance of you ever—”
“Elizabeth, you just restored my very faith in humanity. And I love you for it, woman. I love you with all my wretched, unworthy heart.”
Her eyes were moons of shock; Milton swallowed his nerves and tried again.
“Luv, I don’t know when, or if I always…
” He was bungling this, damnation, when it was imperative he get it right.
“I need you,” he blurted. “Not your breeding, not your education, not even your womb. I need you, Lizzie, because I love you. And I’ve been an arse not to say it sooner, not to admit it even to myself.
But I am telling you now how blessed I am to be your husband, how desperately I wish to undo every injury I ever caused you, every time my miserable, deplorable self failed to protect and uphold you, to love, cherish, and honor you. ”
Her brow furrowed, for why should she trust his words? Why trust a blackguard at all?
“Lizzie.” He gripped her hands, his body trapping her against the wall.
“I achieved all I ever wanted, but it was nothing next to you, nothing I truly needed. No blueblood ever stood up for me like you did, defended me before your kind.” And it was true.
It was suddenly the greatest truth he knew.
“No one ever spoke so strongly on my behalf.” His eyes misted as he swallowed and blinked.
She gripped his hands back. “I’ve failed you too, Jasper.”
She took him utterly by surprise.
“I misjudged your motives and intentions, forever assuming the worst. I was rash to enter Finch’s lair alone with Annabelle, and impatient when you needed time and space to heal.
I should never have given Bella your mother’s necklace, should never have entertained Paul Kilpert behind your back.
I have disobeyed every one of your six rules so often I—”
“No.” He shook his head. “You were never in the wrong, Elizabeth. I alone—”
She held his hands, his eyes captive. “If you love me as you say, you must accept my apology, Jasper, because that is how love works. You must love me without bluster, without beating yourself to bits.”
Who was this woman?
“I am your wife, sir. And as your wife I will speak my mind.”
More like she read his mind.
“You will take my apology with grace,” she ordered.
She—ordered—him?
Milton bowed his head. Her forgiveness was too much.
“Permission to touch you, sir?” she asked.
“Christ, Lizzie, I was a beast! A cad! As evil as Finch or my father to order you and Paul to—”
His heart hammered so hard his chest physically hurt. “I regret that day more than any other. It will always be a stain, a blight upon my soul.”
“Jasper, I do not excuse your actions, but I forgive you for them. As, I am sure, will Mr. Kilpert.”
She wasn’t real. And he sure as shite wasn’t worthy. He wasn’t—
“You must also forgive yourself.”
“Never.” He vehemently shook his head. “But I’ll make it up t’ you.
I’ll be the man y’ deserve, no more bloody rules.
And none of society’s damn rules either.
To hell with the Ton, Lizzie, I’m done.” He didn’t care his speech slipped.
He’d be himself, for fuck’s sake. “Y’ freed me, woman.
Rescued me not just from Finch but from years o’ being slave t’ me own desire fer revenge.
” His thoughts raced faster than he could form the words.
“One slap, luv, one sweet, hard slap laid low me rotten sire an’ proved me worth t’ every nob in London, to th’ very world that bloody Duke upholds.
An’ y’ did it better’n I ever could’ve, Lizzie, fer which I am more grateful than you will ever know. ”
“Jasper—”
“I want naught more than t’ return all I stole from yer, wife. I’ll give it all back, pay yer father a thousand times over if you’d but—”
Her lips locked on his with a passion he was overjoyed to discover. Elizabeth kissed him with such relish that when she finally tore free, her eyes demanded answer.
“I don’t think I can wait, luv.”
“Nor I, husband,” her lips quirked.
Milton kicked open the door beside them and hauled his wife into the room. They’d consummate their marriage for real this time, in his father’s bloody house. Fuck him.
***
Whatever was now happening—happening to Jasper Audrey—Elizabeth grabbed hold and held tight. This was her chance. At him.
She kissed him, giddy with hope. She didn’t care that they behaved like naughty children atop the Duke of Lennox’s escritoire.
Items fell to floor, ink spilled to rug, as Jasper rucked up her skirts, heedless of papers, quills, or finely wrought inkwells.
For the first time ever, Elizabeth did not just rut atop a desk, she made love to her whoreson husband, his every thrust a proclamation, her hips an arching, reaching promise of her own.
She wrapped her legs about his waist to draw him deeper in, to call forth his tenderness and turmoil, his longing and his lust—a man who straddled both worlds in any bed, on any desk, against a wall, in a swaying carriage.
She loved his surly swagger and his not-so-subtle jests.
His intensity had inflamed her from the moment they’d first met.
It still did.
When they collapsed, spent and silly with joy, Jasper beamed, his face pure light. He was the handsomest man alive. Whereas she—
“You look a mess, wife, a gorgeous mess, but a mess nonetheless.” His lips twitched, breaking into a bold smile. “And what the devil were you thinking, attending a ball without your smalls?”
“I was but following my husband’s orders, sir.”
He laughed before he breathed the words “Good girl” directly into her ear.
Elizabeth thrilled to his praise. “Besides, you gave me no time to dress. Why, I’d barely laced my stays before you bundled me into your carriage.” She pursed her lips. “You’d best straighten that necktie and button your fall before some esteemed member of the Ton walks in on us, Baron.”
“Let them,” he proclaimed. “Let the world see my love for you, Lizzie, I will hide it no more.” He palmed her cheek. “You are exquisite, inside and out.” His other hand fell to her belly, to cradle the life that grew there, waiting.
She placed her hand over his. “I love you, too, Jasper Audrey.” She said it so softly she wasn’t sure he’d heard.
They remained hand over hand, in easy stillness, until she, too, cupped his cheek.
“You are not an easy man to love.” She gazed into his face.
“But I am not easy to love either. Let us do better than we have, Jasper. Let us do our damnedest from this day forward.”
He pressed his forehead to hers and answered, “Yes.”
Later that night, Elizabeth wriggled her naked body deeper into her husband’s. She was content. No, smitten.
The Baron of Milton had spent an inordinate amount of time seeming to memorize every curve, crease, mole and freckle on her body after they’d made love again, this time in the comfort of her husband’s welcoming bed.
The moment they’d returned from the Duke’s ball, Jasper had ignored Murdoch and Gerald’s inquisitive faces and dismissed Ginny outright.
He’d also kicked poor Mutton out before he’d undressed Elizabeth himself, praising her for going back to LeBrecht’s until she was sure she’d blushed five shades of red.
“Jasper, I hope our newfound understanding doesn’t mean you’ll stop … you know.”
“Stop what, love?” He bent to suckle her breast with such fervor she was reminded she’d soon nurse a babe, no longer just a husband.
“Stop, well…” She squirmed beneath his onslaught.
“Stop spanking?” He rolled her to her side and gave her rump a playful swat.
She squirmed more. “Yes.”
“Hmm.” He paused to lavish his attention on her right nipple next.
“Perhaps we ought to come up with a fresh set of rules then, wife. Rules which might account for your clear need for discipline.” He began to pet her backside in anticipation of another slap, making Elizabeth shiver with anticipation.
“And what rules do you propose, husband?” She could not believe she now wanted to follow this man’s rules. Provided they were, of course, agreeable.
“I thought simply to amend the ones you broke so oft.” He spanked her again, sending tremors up her spine.
“Amend how, sir?”
“I like it when you call me sir in bed, Lizzie.” He began to nibble her ear. “And I should like it even more if you continue to obey me in the bedroom, continue to assume the position I showed you on our wedding night.”
Heat pooled between Elizabeth’s thighs. He was still the man she’d married. He would still warm her bottom when she needed it most. She gave up a small prayer of thanks and then gasped at an invasion she’d never felt before.
“And I should like entry here someday, Elizabeth, to every inch of you.” His finger slowly probed her rear, engendering there sensations she’d not dreamed possible.
“Will you allow it, love?” he whispered. “I promise you great pleasure, if you trust me to give it.”
“Please,” she begged too quickly. “Jasper, don’t—!”
He did not stop but probed her more, invading her quim next with his other finger. His hand now worked both entries, building in Elizabeth pressure and pleasure that was achingly intense.
“I’ll not stop unless you speak a word only you and I will know. What word shall it be, sweetheart? Something you’ll not forget. Give me a word, darling, that will always make me stop.”
“Watercress,” Elizabeth gasped, then nearly wept when his hand abruptly ceased.
He laughed. “Watercress is perfect, Lizzie.”
“Jasper?”
“Yes, love?”
“Please,” she urged, greedy now that she had him. Greedy for so much more.
“New rules, Lizzie.” His voice grew stern. “And you will count them for me, loud and proud.”
“Yes, sir, only—”
“On hands and knees, Elizabeth.”
She scrambled to obey.
“And when we reach the end you’ll shatter.” His voice was thick with promise, or did she only dream it?
“Can you do that, love, can you come on my command?”
Desire fast threatened she’d do just that.
“I’ll try, sir,” she murmured, head down in position.
Her husband’s hand cracked across her backside as Elizabeth gasped for air. “One!” she announced, awaiting his first rule.
“Do not cross me when I am right,” he ordered. “But if I am wrong, Lizzie, I shall admit as much and beg your forgiveness.”
She tingled with warmth.
“Do not delay my gratification!” His voice rang as loud as Elizabeth’s resounding “Two!”
“Though I promise to gratify you always, wife, with equal pleasure.”
He made her gush all the more.
“Do not goad me into spankings; I alone determine punishment.”
“Three!” She nearly wept her relief when he added, “That rule is non-negotiable, Lizzie.”
“Do not touch without permission,” Milton uttered next, then paused before amending, “but touch frequently with my blessing,” making Elizabeth declare “four” with a soft smile.
“I will get better at this, Lizzie. For you, I will try.”
Tears welled in her eyes before he announced, “And do not knee me in the bollocks, woman, else you will not sit for weeks.”
“Five!” Elizabeth laughed out loud.
“Find that funny, do you?” He gave her bottom an extra wallop.
“No, sir.” She stifled her grin.
“Lastly, do not disobey me in the bedroom, Lizzie. Anywhere else I shall tolerate your temper, but here…” He slipped his hand between her legs to stroke her where she teetered on the edge of impending, building—
“Here in bed, love, you must do as I command, so come for me now, Lizzie. Come on my order.” Jasper’s hand came down in a rush of cool air just as Elizabeth screamed “Six!” and pleasure rocked her world, filling her body, her soul with bliss.
Light and heat suffused her, sparking to the tips of every limb. Seen and loved like never before, she was his and he was hers. She knew this as surely as she knew he’d make love to her again, taking her to new heights of freedom from all her fears and inhibitions.
She reveled in the life—the family—they might create here in her whoreson husband’s bedroom, and in the world at large.
Free to be their honest selves, they were worthy of one another’s love, at last.