Chapter 37 #2
He saw Judith on the bed, and his face lit up in a devastating smile.
Carefully, he shut the door behind him. A small silence lay between them, while she greedily took him in, all her memories once more making his face so dear.
And he was so handsome, damn him. If he hadn’t been so handsome from the beginning, she might have trusted his affection more.
He was examining her low-cut muslin gown with appreciation. Then he spoke. “No mobcap, marchioness?”
“Not today, your grace.” Her voice was surprisingly calm.
“Must I assume, then, that you still do not recall yourself?”
“Quite the contrary: I remember everything.” She paused. “I even recall an incident when I tried to kiss you, and you snored like a donkey.”
“Ah.” He took a few steps closer to the bed, raising his brows. “Believe me, I was not bored at the time. Indeed, I was in a state of torturous conflict, torn between your heavenly lips and the role of a slumbering mule.” He grinned. “Not even Bonaparte could have put me at such a disadvantage.”
She ran a hand over the quilt, thoughtfully. “Yet as far as I recall, I was the one who undressed.” She had been removing a disguise at the time, while the two of them hid in the Garvey House master bedroom.
His lips twitched. “Indeed. I have very fond memories of it. Thankfully, they have all returned to me now.”
“Yet I have no such memory of you.” She considered his tall form and tipped her head consideringly, her heart beating rather fast. “I believe it is your turn now.”
There was a moment’s silence, then he mirrored her movement. “Are you certain, Judith? Has the Lethe addled your brain?”
“I’ve never been more certain.” Her voice softened. “We’ve waited long enough. You will oblige me now by not wasting another moment.”
Dacian, loath to disappoint, immediately began unbuttoning his blue waistcoat with great haste. “Certainly, my lady.”
Seeing her riveted gaze, his long fingers slowed.
He slipped the last two buttons out with tantalising deliberation, and eased the waistcoat off his broad shoulders.
Judith did not lick her lips, but he smiled and swept the linen shirt over his head in one fluid motion, revealing the sculpted breadth of his chest.
Judith blinked, admiring his dark curls and the lean taper of his waist. He kicked off his shoes, and the huge room now seemed exactly the right size, with him in it.
“Judith.” His voice deepened. “Those were the darkest hours of my existence, my dear, when I could not remember you.”
“Mine too.” She climbed off the bed and stepped up to him, placing her hands on his bare shoulders. “It was awful seeing the blankness in your face.” Her voice quavered. “I thought I had lost you forever.”
He cupped her cheek tenderly. “I would have simply fallen in love with you all over again. I think I had already begun, in that miserable cell when I didn’t even know your name.”
She pressed her body into his then, steadying herself in the warmth of him, resting her head on his chest. Her whole being thrummed with happiness and deep contentment.
They stood there a long moment, satisfied to simply hold one another.
Then she turned her face up to his, and he kissed her gently, as if for the first time.
The world fell away. The fire between them, long banked, leapt eagerly to life.
Their kisses became deeper, his hands pulling her closer and ardently canvassing her curves through the soft muslin.
Eventually, impatient, Judith reached for the tie on his breeches and slipped it loose.
Dacian stepped away, letting his trousers fall.
“My goodness,” she said. Her memory from Garvey House had not deceived her. He was indeed rather…well endowed.
He grinned. “An Impactor trait.”
“I approve.” She blushed like a maiden, but that only seemed to please him. Without giving her time to admire him further, he gathered her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.
“Well, marchioness,” he murmured. “I have a thousand lustful fantasies which have waited far too long to be realised. You have tortured me for twenty years. Now it’s my turn. And you are wearing too many clothes.”
This time, Judith did lick her lips. His eyes followed the movement hungrily, but his hands were unhurried as he slid her silk ribbons undone to part her gown, trailing a fiery path down her body.
“I haven’t tortured you,” she objected, as her hips arched in response. “I’ve barely seen you!”
“You didn’t have to be present to consume my thoughts,” he retorted, placing devoted kisses along her collarbone.
“And when you were there, you delighted in making me take on ridiculous disguises, while you sailed around looking beautifully unattainable.” Slowly, he slipped her rose gown off, leaving her in the whisper-thin shift. “Now I shall take my revenge.”
He grasped her hips and tilted her towards him with possessive authority, bracing her against him.
“Nonsense,” she managed, as heat flamed deep within her. “A yew tree isn’t ridiculous. It is a fine upstanding specimen of…botany.”
He rocked her pelvis, making her bones melt, his own gaze molten.
“You’ll pay for that remark,” he said conversationally. Then he settled her back into the bed, slipping her shift off, and made good on his promise to torture her. Her eyelids fluttered closed with pleasure and she surrendered to his expert touch.
Delicious sensations swept through her. Dacian murmured encouragement and endearments against her throat, saying outrageous and perfectly reasonable things: that she was his to do with as he liked now, and he wanted to see her completely undone and ready for him.
Soon she was writhing in pleasure, threading her hands through his thick, dark hair as if to anchor herself.
When he took her breasts in his mouth, she gasped, helpless as he tantalised her with his long, warm fingers.
She arched in desperate invitation, and he groaned in response, his knee coming up to part her legs wider. The long, hard length of him pressed against her thigh, and she put a tentative hand down to tease him in return. He groaned again, his muscled arm flexing against her cheek.
Then they were sliding under the sea-green quilt in a tangle of limbs.
Hands sure, gaze hot, Dacian guided them together.
They fit exactly right, and the sense of fullness and completion made Judith’s heart pound.
The pleasure was an exquisite pressure, demanding release, but Dacian moved slowly, his eyes intent.
Outside, the sound of the waves crashing made the room seem even more like a ship’s cabin, a private bubble where they could be wholly together.
Under his deliberate rhythm, they surged together like the tides on the ocean, relentless and inevitable.
Slowly, then quickly, waves of sensation spun through Judith, until release shattered through both of them.
Afterwards, she was utterly limp and shaken. Dacian collapsed beside her and pulled her into him with a possessive arm and a deeply satisfied sigh. She rested her head on his shoulder, in a safe harbour at last.
He ran a tender hand over her hip. “That’s only the beginning of your punishments, you realise.”
She murmured something inarticulate, still speechless.
His breath warmed her ear. “You do know that I have always adored you, Judith. Ever since I met you.”
She revelled in the fact that they should feel exactly the same. For so long she had pretended to herself that she did not love him, to keep her heart safe from hurt.
“I adore you too, my love,” she admitted. Then she added, “Even if you are terribly vain.”
He scoffed. “If I am vain, it’s your fault.”
She lifted her head. “Because I gaze at you so worshipfully?” She suited action to words.
He laughed, gaze warm. “No, because I have inexplicably won you, despite my terrible character.”
Judith gave him a chastising kiss, and arrayed herself across his broad chest complacently. “You were too noble for your own good.”
He returned her kiss deeply, then sighed. “Yes, you are very right, as usual, my love. I managed to refrain from killing Captain Drumpellier, so I am a model of saintly restraint.”
“Yet you were far too restrained with me,” she remarked thoughtfully. “Next time, I expect you to claim me with ducal arrogance.”
He let out a groan and ran a reverent hand down her body. “It is true I’ve spent far too much time curbing my base impulses around you. All I wanted was to drag you away and claim you as mine, even when you were another’s.”
Judith sighed happily and surrendered to his caress. “I am yours, my dear. As long as you understand that you are mine too.”
“Completely,” he murmured, and leaned in to kiss her again.
The next day, Perry was to transport them all to Elinor’s wedding in London (in stages, to save his Bemusement).
They gathered in the Tea Tower Room, looking out onto a rainswept ocean.
Judith wore a sky-blue gown trimmed with cream, which Perry had fetched from a dressmaker in London the afternoon before.
She was rather pleased with it, especially when Dacian murmured in her ear that she looked exquisite.
“What a delightful hat,” he added. “Where did you find one of such good taste?”
Her hand self-consciously lifted to pat the blue satin.
Dacian had previously bought the pretty confection for her in Stokesford, in an effort to distract her.
At the time she had thought it was far too frivolous for a matron of her station, with its cream lace and ribbons. Now it suited her mood perfectly.
Perry gave them both a very suspicious look. He and Robert wore matching swallowtail coats, and Robert fidgeted with his cravat uncomfortably. Sadly, Marigold, Yvette, and Wooten would miss the wedding breakfast, being fast asleep, but Judith had promised to bring back posies of flowers for them.
“Well!” She looked around approvingly, ignoring Perry’s glower. “We are all very smart. No one would guess that you were blowing up a cellar a few days ago, Perry.”
“Or that the duke was tussling around with the butler,” he retorted.
Trebellow, standing by the door, drew himself up further, so that he loomed over all of them. “Wrassling is not tussling.”
The duke grinned, also finely dressed in his tight buckskin breeches and a tailored coat that set off his shoulders admirably. Judith thought he looked like the epitome of noble masculinity, even when he said, “We can demonstrate the difference, if you wish.”
“Not here,” reproved Mrs Ulrich, from where she was stoking the fire. “I’ve only just finished mending the curtains in the Blue Drawing Room.”
Ghastagon stalked in at the door. He leapt onto the windowsill, with a miaow like a goat scaling a mountain, perhaps to express his disapproval that the Tea Tower Room was so full of people. Or perhaps he was expressing his admiration for their smart clothes. It was hard to tell.
The soothing, cheerful Diplomacy charm on the Tea Tower Room was in full force at the moment, possibly strengthened by the housekeeper’s benevolent gaze and the blazing fire that warmed the room, in defiance of the sweeping autumnal rain. Yet Robert still had a frown on his face.
“I really don’t like this,” he said uneasily. “It is not fair on Elinor, to spring an additional brother on her at her own wedding. Even if I go with the story of being Uncle Gerald’s byblow, she might guess the truth. She sounds like a very discerning young woman.”
Perry snorted. “Literally, I’m afraid. It’s best not to say anything at all, in case she’s trying out her budding Truth Discernment on you.
But trust me, Bobsy, she will be so taken up with marrying her precious Lord Beresford that she won’t notice anything amiss.
And if worse comes to worst, simply disguise yourself as a yew hedge. ”
Robert jostled his shoulder. “At least I know how to carry off a military disguise and still breathe at the same time.”
They began squabbling about who made the best infantryman. This soon devolved into Perry’s scornful insults about the army in general, and Robert’s sceptical remarks about the navy. Judith looked on fondly, grateful to see that they were bickering like brothers.
Dacian’s arm slid round her waist. “Will they have drinking chocolate at the wedding breakfast?” he murmured. “I want to ensure that my beloved is happy.”
Judith rested her head on his shoulder. “I am happy, my dear.”
“How happy?”
“Extraordinarily, supremely, blissfully.”
“Even without chocolate?”
She considered. “Perhaps I could still do with some chocolate.”
“I’ll pour it myself.”
“Nonsense.” She took a step away, straightening her blue satin hat. “It isn’t appropriate for a duke to serve a marchioness.”
“But that’s all I did last night.” His eyes gleamed.
Judith blushed and ran a teasing finger over his lips. “Not all night.”
Unable to resist his handsome smirk, she leaned up and kissed him.
Perry and Robert let out identical shocked gasps behind her, but she ignored them, and the risk to her gown and hat, and leaned into him with a sigh, like a cat with the cream.
“This night and every night, my love. We have plenty of lost time to make up for.”
“Indeed,” said Dacian, and crushed her to him in a most satisfying manner.
— The End —