Page 20 of Wedded to the Forbidden Duke
I can only imagine that they must be even grander still, hard though it would be to believe.
A woman at the center of the semicircle stepped forward, her outfit simultaneously stricter and also slightly more ornate than those of the others, though still entirely practical.
“Your Grace,” she said, bowing first to the Duke and then to Cecilia. “Welcome home. And my lady, it is wonderful to meetyou. My name is Mrs. Fitzclarence. I am the housekeeper of your new home. I am here to ensure that you have whatever you need to make sure this transition is as easy and smooth as possible.”
Cecilia nodded. “Thank you, Mrs. Fitzclarence.”
The housekeeper nodded back. “May I show you to your rooms, then?”
“I…” Cecilia looked back over her shoulder.
The duke was nowhere in sight.He must have stormed off, she thought. She did not know why the thought soured in her stomach.
She shook her head, then turned back to Mrs. Fitzclarence with a smile and a nod. “Yes,” she said. “I suppose that would be lovely.”
Having reached the safety of his study, Ian let the door slam behind him, before heading straight for the brandy.
There was no explanation for these feelings. He had known lust before, to be sure. It was an emotion with which he was rather familiar. After all, how many times had he seduced a woman? How many times had he been made acquainted with the feeling of their skin, the scent of their hair? The sounds they made as he pleasured them?
More times than he could count.
So lust alone for the new duchess, no matter how strong, no matter how formidable, was not the type of thing that ought to drive him to drink. Yet here he was, in his study, glass in hand. On his wedding night, no less! While his new wife spent her wedding night alone.
Ian had never dreamed of marriage; that said, he realized now that he had had some underlying assumption, perhaps, that were he ever to be driven to marriage, it would be assumed that he and his bride would pass the wedding night the usual way.
And he would, if he had thought she wanted it. God, he would. Perhaps it was that which scared him. Here was a bride, his bride—the one woman he was well and truly encouraged by society to want in this way—and he did.
The one woman he was expected to not only want, but love.
Despite his protestations to the contrary, Ian was not entirely unfamiliar with the concept of love. He had seen love, in his parents. He had seen the heights to which it could take a person.
He had also, of course, seen the deep and dreadful lows, as well.
And so he had, sensibly, sworn himself off the whole mess. And his entire life, it had seemed to be working quite well. He had wanted women, but never so desperately that he could not be satisfied with a night or two—or, barring that, by moving on toanother woman entirely. He had never been a jealous man or a possessive one. Such traits were the purview of those in love, he was certain.
So why, then, did he feel so protective of his new bride already?
That was, really, what had caused this whole mess. If he had not caught her, they would not have been married. If he had not felt moved to follow her out of the ballroom to begin with; had not danced with her; had not longed to prevent her from dancing with any other gentleman, talking to any other gentleman. Though he had defended himself in the carriage, he knew in his soul that he was at least half to blame.
Whatever these feelings were, they had to be dealt with at once.
He would have to bed her, he realized. It would have to be done. Not now, not tonight. Not until he was certain she wanted him. Not until she begged him for it—and beg him she would. Lady Ce—the new duchess was certainly a woman of great passion. If he knew nothing else about her, he knew that. Whatever anger she felt towards him could easily be transformed, or else exorcized, to or through passion of a different manner.
He leaned back in his chair. It was settled. He would seduce his new bride. As long as it took, until she was practically begging for him to take her; and then once he did successfully bed her, he would be able to shake these inconvenient, inexplicable feelings from his mind. It was the only way. Once he tasted those sweet lips, heard those sighs, he would no longer be tormented by thelust that came with not knowing. And then he would be able to, more or less, return to his life before. It would have to work.
Even as he told himself this, a shudder ran through him at the thought of her in his bed.
Patience, he told himself.Patience.He would be cordial to her. He would learn what she liked. He would seduce her, and have her, and then have no more worry of her, other than to ensure she was well taken care of as his duchess. As his wife.
It was the only way.
Chapter Nine
Cecilia spent her first night at her new home uneventfully. True to his word, she and the duke slept in separate chambers, and when she awoke and went down to breakfast he was nowhere to be found.
“The duke tends to break his fast rather early, Your Grace,” Mrs. Fitzclarence told her when Cecilia remarked on his absence. “He mentioned that he did not wish to disturb your rest, after the long journey you had yesterday.”
Cecilia nodded. Of course, she had not expected the duke to spend the night with her in her chambers, but it might have been nice to have his company at the breakfast table, considering it was their first morning as a married couple.
