Chapter 24
The night was still, except for a soft breeze that floated through the branches as Della sat beneath her mother’s tree. Royce’s reaction to her admission of love had been far worse than she expected.
His words had been harsh, dismissive, and the thought of returning home, with the knowledge of how he felt, left her feeling unsure of their future.
Letting out a deep sigh, she shivered in the chilly night air and fumbled for her wrap, but all she found was hard marble beneath her fingers.
“Della,” a voice said as her wrap was gently placed over her shoulders.
“Royce!” Della put a hand over her pounding heart. “You frightened me.”
“Add that to the long list of things I must apologize for,” he said, sitting on the bench next to her. “I arrived a while ago.”
“I heard,” Della said, watching the trickling water in the fountain. “Though I am surprised you came here at all.”
“Why would I not?”
“Do I really need to answer that, Royce?” Della rose to her feet and walked to the fountain, placing her hands on the coarse stone.
“No,” Royce said, coming to stand beside her. “But I cannot stress how very sorry I am. I should have never let you leave thinking I do not care for you; when I do—more than you know.”
“Then why push me away?” Della slowly turned her head to look at the man she loved, her heart aching to understand.
Royce tenderly clasped her hand and placed it over his heart, letting out a heavy sigh.
“My mother and father had an unbreakable bond. They were inseparable, and I witnessed their love for each other every day of my life. And I longed for the same in my future marriage. But when my father passed away, the grief nearly destroyed my mother. For a while after that, it felt as though we had not lost just one parent, but both.”
“Maggie never told me.” Della looked at Royce tenderly.
“No.” Royce shook his head. “She would not have wanted you to worry. Della—”
“Shh, Royce. You do not need to explain—”
“But I do. I need you to understand why I reacted the way I did.”
Della fixed her gaze on the spot where Royce held her hand over his heart, feeling the warmth of his touch radiating through her skin. She could tell he was struggling to express whatever he felt he had to say, so she stayed quiet, allowing him to take as much time as he required.
“I am afraid that if I allowed myself to love someone and something were to happen—especially to you—I would shatter like a mirror, unable to put the pieces back together. Left to face this life with only the shattered pieces of my former self without you by my side. Though that is no excuse for what I said or how I acted. I am truly sorry, and I will make every effort to earn your forgiveness.”
Della kept her hand over his heart at Royce’s admission and lovingly reached up with the other to brush away his tears. He leaned into the gentle caress of her hand and placed a kiss on her palm.
“Take me home,” Della whispered, looking up at Royce.
Royce nodded. And with her hand in his, they made their way to the front of the house, only to be surprised by the sight of Titan affectionately nuzzling Demeter as they stood tethered behind her father’s carriage.
“Seems to be the night for the Derrington men to make apologies,” Royce joked as he handed Della up.
As they made their way back home, Della felt Royce put his arm around her, drawing her close to him, saying nothing but everything at the same time.
As the weeks went by, Della slowly adjusted to her new home, endeavoring to make the servants comfortable with her presence, and attempting to not be too demanding.
Their new butler, Jeffries, and their cook, Mrs. Barlow, had been worth their weight in gold, helping her decide on how the house and kitchens would run most efficiently.
In the evenings, after dinner, Royce would retire to his study to respond to correspondence or check over the numbers for various holdings he had invested in. And Della invited Mrs. Barlow for late-night tea in her room beyond the study.
Mrs. Barlow had disliked the idea of meeting upstairs initially, but Della had insisted they should at least be comfortable if they were to pour over recipes and menus.
“Royce! We just finished.” Della smiled at him one evening as he entered the room. She bent down to place papers full of recipes and lists in a stack and handed them to Mrs. Barlow.
“Good night, Mrs. Barlow. Sleep well and thank you for your help.”
Mrs. Barlow grinned and headed for the door when an errant piece of parchment sailed from the stack of papers in her hands. Royce snatched it out of the air and handed it back to her.
“Thank you, Your Grace. Goodnight.” Mrs. Barlow curtsied and left.
“You two were in here quite a while,” Royce said quietly as he ambled toward Della with his hands clasped behind his back.
“Yes. We will host our first dinner at the end of the week. To prevent any potential mishaps, I wanted to make sure everything was in order.” Della bent down to pick up the guest list from the table to read over once more.
“May I ask who was worthy enough to make your list?” Royce asked, placing his chin on Della’s shoulder.
“You and I, of course…”
“Not those two again,” Royce groaned. “People have said they cannot keep their hands off each other. Quite scandalous, or so I am told,” he whispered in Della’s ear.
Della ignored him and continued. “Your mother, Maggie, Grayson, Desmond, Samuel.” Royce’s wandering hands made it hard for her to concentrate, but she kept reading the list of names as though nothing was happening. “My father, Tilly, and I invited your Aunt Imogen, uncle, and cousins.”
“Sounds like a houseful.”
“Oh! And Aden.” Della reached down to grab the quill and quickly added his name to this list.
“You must not forget him—he would be terribly put out.” Royce attempted to look serious.
“Everyone gets along. The only two I worry about are Aden and Maggie. You saw them at the last ball. Those two barely tolerate being in the same room, and I am afraid if they sit near each other, we could end up with an argument or food fight on our hands.”
“That would be rather amusing, I would think.”
“Oh, hush.” Della lightly smacked Royce on the arm. “This is my first-time hosting and planning a menu for this many people since I became a duchess. I need it to go well. Even if it is only family. By the way, I wanted to talk to you about giving Jeffries and Mrs. Barlow an increase in their pay. I know they have not been working for us long, but they have done so much for me. I would like to do something for them in return.”
“Consider it done.”
Della felt Royce’s hands stop their roaming as he went to open the doors leading out to the garden. A strong gust of wind blew through the room, causing the candles on the mantle to gutter, leaving the room lit by the light of the spectacularly large moon.
“Beautiful,” Della said, awe coloring her voice.
“Yes, it is,” Royce said, as he came up behind her, gently pressing his lips against the exposed skin of her neck.
With her head tilted to the side, Della tried to turn to face him, but he held her in place. “Stay as you are.”
Slowly, Royce pulled at the hem of Della’s dress, exposing her legs a little at a time. Once he had gathered the material, he tucked it against her back and pinned it between their bodies, freeing both of his hands.
“May I?” Royce asked softly, reverently.
“Mmmmm,” was all Della could manage. Royce’s touch made her tremble as his hand moved along the curve of her breast, while the other found the place where she wanted him most.
“You are already wet for me.” He let out a low growl as he traced her opening with his fingers before sinking them into her.
Della let out a soft scream as Royce’s pulled her more firmly against him, his erection pressing insistently against her backside.
She spread her legs wider, her breath quickening as Royce’s fingers continued to do wicked things, then finally settling on that bundle of nerves that never failed to send her beyond. He flicked, stroked, and lightly plucked, each movement causing her to be wound tighter and tighter.
“Not just yet,” Royce said, kissing her shoulder before guiding her to a chair and bending her over so she was forced to place her hands on the cushion to keep from falling over. Tossing the already bunched fabric of her dress over her waist, he smacked her behind.
“Royce!”
“I told you next time I would not miss,” he growled as he undid the fall of his breeches. “Shall we continue?” Royce asked, stroking his cock along her seam. “Or shall we just go to bed?”
“Please…” Della whimpered, feeling as though every nerve was on fire.
Royce slid himself in, little by little, pulled out slightly, and plunged back in, causing Della’s breath to catch. She wanted him, and he seemed to reciprocate the sentiment. Della moved her hands up to grasp the back of the chair, pushing herself into each thrust, driving him deeper and deeper.
“Royce!” “Della!” they yelled simultaneously as Royce tightened his grip on her hips.
“Now, Della!”
Della screamed at her release, her knees feeling like they would give out as Royce leaned over her and placed his hands on the arms of the chair, his heavy breathing matching her own.
“Well…” Della panted. “That was fun.”
Della heard Royce chuckle as he withdrew from her and tucked himself back into his breeches. Lightly shaking out her dress, Della turned to press a gentle kiss to his lips and allowed Royce to guide her over to the settee, pulling her on top of him as he lay down.
“I love you,” Della whispered into Royce’s chest.
He wrapped his arms around her, neither saying another word as they listened to the sound of the night that drifted through the doors.
The sound of birds chirping outside was the first thing Della heard as she opened her eyes to the morning light. It was only when Royce attempted to turn over and unceremoniously dumped her onto the floor that she remembered they had never made it to their bedroom.
“Royce.” Della patted him gently on the chest. “Royce…” Just a snore was all she received in response. “Royce!!” she yelled, smacking him in the chest with the flat of her palm.
“W-w-what?!” Royce jolted to a sitting position, then laid back down, holding his hand to his head. He opened one eye and looked around, spotting Della on the floor. “What are you doing down there?”
“You tossed me off.”
“My apologies,” Royce said, holding out his hand.
Della took his hand and stood, but soon found herself straddling Royce’s lap.
“Good morning.” Della smiled down at Royce.
“Good morning to you too,” he said, pulling her in for a kiss.
“I cannot believe we slept on this tiny thing all night.”
“Oh, I can believe it,” Royce said, straightening his back.
“What time is it?” Della asked, looking at the clock on the mantel. “Oh, heavens! It is nearly a quarter to ten. I promised your mother and Maggie I would have tea with them at eleven.” Della made to get up so she could get ready, but not before Royce pulled her back in for another long searing kiss.
“Enough,” Della laughed, attempting to pull away from Royce. “If you keep that up, I shall be late for sure.”
“Care to test that theory?” Royce smiled wickedly.
He tried to hold her to him, but Della squirmed out of his grasp. She grabbed a pillow from the adjacent chair, threw it at Royce, and made her escape, his laughter following her as she ran toward their room to change.
Once she was ready—in record time, according to Abigail—Della rushed down the stairs, ran into the study to give Royce a glancing kiss on the cheek, and left before he had a chance to react.
“How are the preparations for your dinner coming along?” the Duchess asked, pouring herself a cup of tea.
“Mrs. Barlow and I discussed the final details last night.” Della took a sip of her tea, trying to hide the blush that threatened to show itself regarding what had happened after that conversation. “Imogen finally confirmed, so all will be in attendance.”
“Will Aden be there?” Maggie inquired; her tone tinted with annoyance.
“Of course he will! Lord Aynesworth is practically family!” The Duchess looked at Maggie incredulously. “I believe he would be terribly offended if he were excluded.”
“How horrible,” Maggie grumbled as she took an unladylike bite of scone and dropped it on her plate.
The Duchess slid a glance at Della, eyebrow raised in question. Della merely shook her head and took another sip of her tea.
“Della, would you like to join me for a horseback ride in the park?” Maggie asked as she abruptly slammed her plate down on the table, causing everything to rattle.
Without waiting for a response, Maggie stood and headed to the door.
“That sounds lovely, but I came in the carriage.”
“We just happened to have a horse arrive last night from Derrington Chase. The twins needed riding lessons, but our horses here are bit finicky, so I thought a more tolerant horse would be best for them. Her name is Biscuit.”
“Biscuit?” Della laughed.
“Yes. I would tell you how she received her moniker, but I believe the story would be better told by the one who named her. Do be sure to ask Desmond about it at our family dinner.” The Duchess smiled.
“Shall we be off, then?” Maggie asked impatiently.
“Only if you take two footmen with you,” the Duchess said casually, brushing some crumbs off her lap.
“Must we?” Maggie sighed.
“Della may serve as your chaperone for outings, as she is now a married woman. But you remain unmarried. And while I trust Della implicitly, I would feel better knowing that the two of you have protection with you. No offense, Della dear.” The Duchess lightly patted Della’s knee.
Della smiled to show no offense was taken. She noticed Maggie seemed troubled, and from her objections to Aden joining them for the family dinner, she suspected it had to do with him.
But Della had been trying her hardest these last few weeks to take Royce’s advice and let it sort itself out. It would be up to Maggie when or if she wanted to talk about it.
“Very well,” Maggie said harshly before leaving.
Della smiled slightly at the Duchess and stood to follow.
“Good luck, dear,” the Duchess said, taking a sip of tea as she looked out the window. “You are going to need it.”