Chapter 38
Cynthia
I pace the floor as I look at the dress lying on the bed. Pale lavender. Plain. A dress fit for the daughter of a baron. Next to it, the gems shine and gleam in the sun, flashing at each turn. The dress feels much like it belongs to a pauper in comparison, but it’s all I could afford.
My lips tilt in a small smile as I look at my reflection in the mirror. Charles will still love it. I’m sure. At least, that’s what my heart says. My mind, however, cannot slow down.
I tug at the covers as I wait for the maids to bring in the water for my bath. Already I ache from head to toe as warmth seeps from my skin. An odd scratch plagues my arms, and I do my best not to fuss with it. The last thing I need is gashes as I go down the aisle.
Grabbing the bit of metal and the vial of oil, I slip into the privy and work it into me as best as I can without making a sound. If I get it in now, I won’t have to worry about finding time later.
I bite down on my lower lip, holding back the whimpers as that white-hot pleasure slides up my spine and nearly melts my brain. It must be the heat. There’s no other reason this should feel this good. I don’t know what to do. I have no way of quelling it.
As I grip at a bit of wood to brace myself, I continue to push it in with the other hand. Somehow, it goes in a bit easier today. No doubt wearing it yesterday helped my body acclimate. I nearly squeak with surprise when the last hump slides in with very little coaxing.
By the time I come out, my fingers tremble as I pace the room again. Bucket after bucket of hot water comes into the room to dump into the copper basin.
A nice, hot bath. If only I had time to enjoy it. As it is, I fear we’re lingering far too long as it is. Already has the morning passed, and now, we near the afternoon. Only a few more hours before I’m handed off to Charles.
Groaning, I slip into the hot water and lay my head back against the metal lip as the maids take their sponges and slide them over my arms and legs.
The abrasions of cloth against flesh feel far better than they should.
Arousal gathers at my lower lips as I squirm, somewhat regretting already putting the dilator inside me.
The maids continue to work, completely unaware of the battle that rages inside me. I grip the edge of the basin, clutching it for dear life as they continue to wash me down. As the pleasure builds, so does the heat engulfing my body.
“Pray, do you mind giving me a moment to myself?” I finally ask. “I know time is limited, but I would like a small bit of time to simply lie here. It will become hectic once I’m out, and I just need a bit to myself.”
They give a sympathetic smile and head out the door. “We will knock before we come back in.”
I let out a large breath and lie there, doing my best to keep my heart at a normal rate. It’s nearly impossible. Sliding my hand down, I caress myself, touching my body in a most intimate manner.
Pleasure, like fire, races through my body, making me bow up. I continue to touch myself, moving my fingers at a rapid pace back and forth. All I have to do is picture Charles there, coaxing me, guiding me, commanding me to find my release.
It slams into me, stealing my breath as I bite down on my other hand, using my fist to stifle my screams. My back entrance clenches with every spasm, making the pleasure feel as if it comes from both ends instead of just the one I’m touching.
It’s filthy. It’s erotic. It’s more than I ever anticipated. Perhaps Charles wasn’t wrong. Will it feel this good when it’s his cock?
The very thought makes everything clench up as my release continues to cause me to gasp. Despite already achieving release once, the pleasure rolls through me without an end. One release goes into two, then three until I fear I’ve lost count.
I keep the pace, rubbing my clit until every last bit is wrung out of me, and I lie in the tub, limp as I do my best to catch my breath. As if fate itself steers this day, the maids knock again as I lie there, depleted for the moment.
As they finish their task, I find myself able to breathe and simply enjoy the day without the nagging need to find pleasure. I’m sure that will wane the moment I’m in Charles’s arms, but for now, I can just be.
Once I’m dried off and put into my shift, I look at the dress again, a soft smile twisting my lips. At least it will be plain enough to show off the jewels to perfection. I reach out to touch it when there’s another knock at the door.
Teresa comes inside with a large box and an even larger grin. “This has arrived for you. I dare say the delivery boy was quite beside himself. It should have come hours ago. I told him all is well. We have not left yet.”
I look at the note on the top. Charles.
To my bride on her wedding day. Wear this as we pledge to be one. I cannot wait to see your eyes, those beautiful green eyes, as you declare your love for me before the Ton.
Ever Yours,
Charles
Curiosity eats at me as Teresa places it on the bed. What else could he possibly have for me to wear? And at this size.
When the lid opens, I gasp and stand back. Tears prick my eyes as I simply stare at the dress nestled there, waiting for me. Such a perfect shade of green. Green to match my eyes.
“Oh, Cynthia,” Teresa whispers. “It will look stunning on you.”
I dare not even look at myself as the maids go to work, pinning me in the dress and jewels before doing my hair. Teresa is nowhere to be found. No doubt she prepares for the wedding as well.
When they finally step back, I barely recognize the girl in the mirror. It’s as if I’ve transformed into the woman who would be duchess. The soft, muted greens mirror my eyes as they hug my body to perfection. It’s a miracle. Nothing less.
Nodding to the maids, I give them a soft smile. “I am ready.”
Joseph and Teresa accompany me to the carriage waiting outside, their lips moving into smiles but quickly hiding them away. They know something. It’s evident in the mirth and mischief they try so desperately to conceal.
I long to ask them about it, but do not wish to ruin any other surprise Charles might have for me. It wouldn’t be fair for him to put in this much work only to have it dashed by the time I arrive at the town house. Only… as we pass the streets, I realize we are not going in that direction.
“Do you mean to kidnap me?” I ask.
“So silly,” Teresa laughs. “If we were to do something so nefarious, Norhaven would have our heads. Friend or not.”
I sit back in the seat as Teresa and Joseph look at each other, exchanging those maddening smiles.
“It must be nice for your mother to be in town, Your Grace,” I say to change the conversation. “How do she and little Thomas get along?”
Teresa smiles and places a hand over her heart. “They are best of friends. I promise you. The young lad, even at his tender age, seems to have a fondness for her over me.”
“That’s because she spoils him, dear. I’m sure after being with him all afternoon, Mother will be more than happy to retire to her bedchambers and allow you to be his mother once more.”
The two drift into easy conversation as we continue to roll down the street.
Thankfully, we stop soon after at Saint George’s.
Confused, I look at the building, then back at Teresa and Joseph.
They both smile at me as my friend dabs at her eyes, already tearing up.
Could it be he’s using the same church because it was already prepared?
As we step out onto the street, Father makes his way down and takes my arm in his. “You two go on and find a seat,” he says to them. “I wish to speak to my daughter a moment.”
Joseph steps forward, a growl hovering at the back of his throat. “If you ruin this day-”
My father holds up a hand. “Then I shall cast myself before the mercy of Norhaven himself. I mean her no ill will.”
When he nods and leaves, my body trembles at being left alone like a lamb to the slaughter. Only, Father doesn’t yell. He doesn’t scream. He doesn’t even chide.
Tears form in his eyes as he looks me up and down. “You look just like your mother.”
“Harriet?”
“No,” he murmurs. “Your real mother. Tabitha. She was a gentle soul. Kindness and love. Your eyes are hers. So is your ready smile. I never shared her with you because it was too painful. Still is. She died birthing you, and in her death, gave me the greatest gift a father could have. The bond between us broke, and I was mad, nearly feral. Harriet… she found me. Convinced me it was love. I… I couldn’t break another bond. I just didn’t think I’d survive.”
Tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. Not when today is a happy occasion.
“It was my selfishness that caused you pain,” he whispers. “Will you ever forgive me?”
“Father,” I sob out. “There is nothing to forgive. So long as you do me this one favor.”
“Name it, child. Anything. I have not denied you before, and I will not stop now.”
“Take me to my husband. Take me to Charles.”
“With a light heart and even lighter feet, my child.”
My soul sings as I loop my arm with my father’s, and the outer church doors open. We come to the main area, and I stop and draw in a deep breath before those inner doors fling open.
Stunned, I stand there, unable to move, unable to think, and unable to breathe. This is not at all what Henhaven and I discussed. Not one rose is visible as I look at the pews.
Instead, peonies of all shapes, sizes, and colors fill the space.
Green ribbon, oddly enough a similar shade to my eyes, winds its way down to meet at the top of each pew end as it connects with the small posies of myrtle and ivy.
Tall candelabras line the aisle with tapered beeswax candles, giving the space a warm glow.
How did he accomplish all this? Bewildered, I look up at the man as he waits down the aisle, his brother behind him.
Though I had many doubts before of the veracity of his love for me, mostly put there by Harriet’s screeching, I don’t doubt it now.
Only a man who truly loves me would do something like this.
Off to the side, Penelope slides toward me, a small posy of peonies, myrtle, and ivy gathered in her hand. She gives it to me, a bright smile on her lips. “Well met, sister,” she says, tears shining in her eyes. “‘Twas a long time coming, but we are finally the family we were always meant to be.”
Letting go of my father’s arm, I throw myself into her, hugging her close. I kiss her cheek before standing back at the end, flowers clutched in my hand.
Time to finally become a Barrington.