Chapter 33
Nathanial
His wife was distracted. Nathanial studied her out of the corner of his eye as they approached Lord and Lady Styx in the receiving line.
The hosts were currently greeting the Earl and Countess of Spencer, but their eyes were already on Nathanial and his wife, alight with eager anticipation.
No one could blame them, as there were several events this evening, but Hereford and his wife had chosen theirs.
Like with the Darnings, it would add to Lady Styx’s cachet.
Since she greeted them with true warmth, just as Lady Darning had, Nathanial did not mind at all. This particular ball had been his wife’s choice, and so far, she was proving adept at knowing where she would be the most welcome.
“Your Grace.” Lady Styx curtsied. “It is a singular pleasure to welcome you to our house.” Rather tall with bright red hair, her freckles should have been unfashionable, but she’d always defied Society and embraced them rather than trying to downplay them.
Her husband was her equal in height, with olive skin.
Like her, he eschewed Societal fashion and had chosen to grow his hair long—all of it.
His beard touched the top of his cravat, and his mustache covered most of his face.
Though he had drawn his hair back in a queue to keep it out of his face, his disdain for current fashions made him a match for his wife.
Their dramatically styled clothing suited them perfectly.
“Thank you for having us here this evening.” His wife smiled genuinely, holding out her hand and exchanging cheek kisses with Lady Styx, who beamed widely at the affection.
There were plenty of others in the receiving line who would note her closeness with a duchess—one who had not always been welcomed by others before attaining her title.
Lady Styx was being rewarded for her offering friendliness before it had benefited her personally.
“Congratulations on your marriage,” Lord Styx said, with utter sincerity, looking at Nathanial. “I believe you have a rare find indeed.”
Considering Lord Styx had a reputation for liking very few people other than his own wife, Nathanial found himself rather bemused by the compliment.
His wife had garnered more allies than he’d realized among the ton during her time in it, regardless of her father’s family’s lack of approbation.
Personally, Nathanial valued Lord Styx’s opinion far above the Earl of Stilton’s.
But his impression remained, as the Styx’s moved on to the next guest in the receiving line… his wife was distracted by something. Lost in her own thoughts. But by what?
He had not seen her after the tea this afternoon. Had one of her friends said something to her? Or had something else happened that was causing her distraction?
Why was she not focused on him the way she had been before?
The realization that he’d rather liked her being solely focused on him previously was unexpected. Harrowing, even. Nathanial was not sure he wanted to care where her attention was.
But the unavoidable truth was that he did.
“Are you looking for someone in particular?” he asked as they entered the ballroom, wondering if perhaps she was supposed to be meeting her friends.
His wife looked at him as if surprised. As though she’d forgotten he was there, despite the fact he was escorting her into the ball on his arm. If Nathanial’s feathers had been ruffled before, now they were positively disturbed.
“Oh… no. Is there someone I should be looking for?” Her gaze cast out, which was when he realized that previously her attention had been thoroughly inward. The contrast made that clear.
If she’d truly noticed anyone else in the ballroom before his query, he would be surprised. Unfortunately, he did not feel as though he could ask what she was thinking. That was hardly the kind of safe conversation they engaged in—if they spoke at all when it was just the two of them.
Nathanial tried to remember if he’d ever spoken with his wife, alone, since their marriage.
He did not think he had.
Besides, this was hardly the surrounds for such a conversation.
They were supposed to be comfortably married.
Amicable. Not hanging on to each other, the way Gregory and Tiffany did, which was tolerated by their peers only because they were understood to be a love match.
If he started behaving oddly, attentively, that would only draw more eyes to them and engender more questions about their match, which was the opposite of his aim.
But he did not like it.
The uncomfortable thought occurred to him that in order to be more settled in his marriage, he might actually have to talk to his wife.
Kalina
The Styx’s ball was lovely, other than a few extremely awkward moments when Monkey Sinclair deserted the Duke of Grafton for Delilah…
while the Duke of Grafton was escorting Lady Annabelle, and Delilah was waltzing with Conyngham.
The earl had grinned as the monkey chittered at him as though scolding him, obviously not put off at all, but Delilah’s face had gone still as a stone at the sight of Lady Annabelle on Grafton’s arm.
Kalina did not tell Delilah that she later overheard Lady Walsh crowing over the triumph of her daughter catching a duke. The whole situation was painful enough, and Delilah already knew what was in the wind.
She was rather distracted by her own husband, who seemed to be blowing back and forth with his own wind.
Though he did not cling to her side the way Gregory did with Tiffany, neither was he as absent as she had expected.
He did step away to join his own conversations, but eventually made his way back to her.
And after her dance with Lord Jarrett, she found her scowling husband had returned to her circle and immediately claimed her on his arm again.
Which was all very confusing because that was not what had been discussed when they’d made their plan with Tiffany and Gregory.
On the other hand, no one seemed to find it remarkable.
Lord Jarrett simply nodded and smiled, taking himself off with a smug expression on his face, as if he knew something no one else did.
Exactly what he felt he knew, Kalina was not entirely sure, but that was the impression she received from him.
By the time they made their excuses and said goodbye to their friends and hosts, Kalina was thoroughly confused.
They reached the carriage, and Hereford sat upright across from her. It was dark within the confines of the carriage, but she got the feeling he was looking at her. Studying her as best he could despite the dimness of the light. The close scrutiny made her feel a little breathless.
They were so rarely alone.
And when they were, it was even darker in her room. She could not see him there, nor could he see her.
But right now, only the upper part of his face was cast in shadow.
She could see his jawline. His lips. Part of his cheek.
The way his shoulders shifted against the seat behind him.
His hands, where they rested on his thighs, one long finger tapping against his leg. A finger that had been inside her.
Something that was much easier to forget when they were surrounded by his sisters or the servants or the ton.
Here, alone, in the intimate darkness of the carriage, she was very aware of his fingers. His hands. Her body reacted because she knew exactly how she could make him feel.
The silence hung heavy in the air, making her want to squirm in her seat. She pressed her thighs together at the unexpected arousal that just being alone with her husband caused.
“Did you enjoy the ball?” she asked, finally, because she could not bear the growing tension.
The tapping finger on his thigh stilled, and he cleared his throat.
“I did. Lady Styx is an excellent hostess. Did you enjoy the ball?”
“I did. Thank you.”
The conversation was stilted, awkward, but it soothed her a little. At least it was not complete silence.
“I believe Zachary is going to need to cease bringing Monkey Sinclair to events.”
Kalina laughed softly at her husband’s observation, relaxing even further. The monkey was certainly a safe enough topic of conversation.
“He does seem intent on causing problems.”
“You notice he kept the monkey on the opposite shoulder as the lady on his arm.” Hereford chuckled. “She looked rather nervous.”
“I would be too, considering Sinclair’s reputation with the ladies.” She did not mention the exception that Monkey Sinclair made for Delilah. They both knew, but it did no one any good to comment on it.
“Not just the ladies; did you see the way it reacted to Zachary’s uncle?”
“What? No, I must have missed that.”
Hereford laughed outright.
“I think it must know Zachary’s uncle is assisting his mother with the push to marry Lady Annabelle because the way that monkey hissed at him…
” He laughed again, shaking his head. Seeing the edges of his lips curled up in a smile—a smile directed at her, no less—made Kalina’s heart pound in her chest.
But they reached the house too soon. The smile faded. The conversation ended. Hereford helped her down from the carriage, but even with her hand in his, she could feel his withdrawal again.
Once more, she was escorted to her room and left there.
Once again, he came to her, just before she drifted off to sleep, and climbed into her bed in the darkness.
As always, he hushed her.
When she tried to speak, anyway, he turned above her and lowered his cock into her mouth while his tongue was still deep in her pussy. Kalina was horrified and fascinated by his manner of gagging her. The tip prodded at her lips, and he uttered one harsh word.
“Open.”
Immediately, she did, and his cock pushed into her mouth.
He tasted salty. Meaty. The thick length of him slid over her tongue and came up against her throat, making her gag.
She shuddered at the sensation as he withdrew, then slid back in, using her mouth the way he did her pussy.
It was hard to breathe, making her feel rather dizzy from the lack of air as he moved above her, his fingers prying her legs farther apart as if the act of using her mouth spurred his desire to use his own to greater efforts.
Despite how wildly perverse the act was, how utterly indecent, there was a part of her that reveled in it. That heard his moans, felt his shudders, and wished she could see his face as his cock moved in her mouth. Wondered what he would look like as he used her in such a manner.
That wished they were not completely in the dark.
Eventually, when she could do nothing but cry out in pleasure, he pulled his cock free from her lips.
Wringing wave after wave of pleasure from her body with his own mouth, he kept her writhing and moaning until she was too tired to even go up on her knees for him.
Instead, she ended up on her side, her husband straddling one of her legs, the other lifted over his shoulder, as he pumped into her hard and fast.
The position allowed his hand to move over her breasts, tweaking and tugging on her nipples, then drift down to her swollen, overstimulated pearl of pleasure.
She was nearly insensible from the overwhelming assault on her senses by the time he went rigid, holding himself inside her as he reached his own pinnacle.
Letting her leg drop down, he kept his cock within her body, snuggling up behind her the way he always did… after.
She was too exhausted to try to form a sentence, but her thoughts still whirled even as sleep crept up to pull her under.
While a love match might be out of her reach, she wanted to be able to have conversations with her husband. She wanted this intimacy in more places than the full darkness of her bedroom in the middle of the night.
She wanted him to forgive her.
Tomorrow, one way or another, she was going to ask her husband to spank her.