Page 25 of Lady Elizabeth's Winter Stranger
“Good thinking.”
They drifted toward the door, then stopped at the sound of a discreet knock.“I’ve given you as long as I can, but I think the carols are nearly done,” Guy muttered from the corridor.An excellent chaperone indeed.
“We’re coming now,” Tom said, although he paused to subject Elizabeth to a serious stare.“So we have an understanding, my lady?”
“That you’re going to court me?”
“Yes, and that sometime very soon, I’m going to ask you to be my wife.”
Excitement made her heart crash against her ribs, but she adopted an airy tone, as she released Tom’s hand and turned the doorknob.“Very well.But will I say yes?”
Chapter 8
Elizabeth said yes.
She and Tom married on Valentine’s Day, under the full gaze of society at St.George’s in Hanover Square.The bride wore white velvet and walked up the aisle with five bridesmaids.The scent of massed hothouse flowers filled the cavernous interior of the church with the promise of spring not too far away.Never let it be said that when Elizabeth Tierney at last deigned to wed, she stinted in any way.
The extravagant gown was currently tossed with lamentable carelessness across the back of an upholstered chair in Richmond’s best inn.The bride’s undergarments were scattered across the carpet, along with the groom’s elegant dark blue coat, gray silk waistcoat, neckcloth, and shirt.
She and Tom had been so desperate for each other, that the moment they came upstairs after dinner, they’d all but ripped most of their clothing away.Now only a flimsy shift covered her, and Tom was naked, except for the cream silk breeches that he’d worn for the wedding.
A silver tray of champagne and delicacies waited on a sideboard near the closed door.Vases of more hothouse flowers adorned the chests and tables furnishing the room.In the huge four-poster oak bed in the corner, the sheets were turned down.A fire blazed in the hearth, and massed beeswax candles lent the opulent chamber a golden glow.
The bride released a blissful sigh, as her groom of nine hours raised his head from a passionate kiss.They were standing on a rich red and blue carpet in the middle of the room amidst the chaos of discarded linen.
“I’ve missed your kisses,” Elizabeth murmured, rising on her toes and running her lips along that heroic jaw.She loved that Tom was so tall and strong.It made her feel lusciously feminine.
His laugh was low and as velvety as her wedding dress.“Fie, Lady Fairchild.Are you accusing me of neglect?I kissed you at the ceremony.”
“A mere peck.”She pouted and linked her hands behind his neck, as she glanced up at him through her lashes.When she arched her body, the beaded tips of her nipples grazed the bare skin of his chest.The sensation sent a frisson through her.“It hardly deserved to be called a kiss.”
His lips twitched with the wry humor that she loved.“I kissed you yesterday.And I believe also the day before, if memory serves me correctly.”
“You’ve forgotten.”She adopted a shocked expression.“I’m devastated.”
“You’re a baggage, that’s what you are.”When he said it so fondly, she could hardly object.
After Christmas, their courtship had proceeded along conventional lines, with Tom asking Lord Tierney’s permission to marry his daughter a month ago.The banns had been called.Elizabeth had met Tom’s family and received a warm welcome that boded well for future relations.The union of sparkling Lady Elizabeth Tierney with distinguished diplomat and future Lord Blaydon, Stanton Morley-Bridges was the kind of aristocratic match that the ton applauded.Two fine young people from prominent families, neither tarred with scandal.A wooing conducted just as the sticklers decreed, with family approval bestowed upon the eventual engagement.
Less publicly, Elizabeth and Tom had found frequent opportunities to be alone.Their short courtship and engagement had featured plenty of kisses, even if hurried and always with an ear for interruption.
“I’m frustrated.”She sounded like she was joking, but she was deadly serious.Since Christmas, their privacy had been measured in intervals of minutes.
With a groan as heartfelt as hers, Tom reached out to grasp her hips.Her stomach lurched with excitement, as the warmth of his touch seeped through the light shift to her skin beneath.The undergarments littering the floor included her drawers.Beneath her shift, she was completely naked.
“Tell me about it.Every time I got into my stride with kissing you, someone decided they had to talk to you about wedding fripperies.”
It was true.Elizabeth had desired Tom from the first, but their snatched embraces had kindled that desire into a mighty inferno.Now she was mad with wanting him.
He caught her up for a kiss that had her bare toes curling against the carpet.Her heart took a dizzying swoop.Twining her arms about him, she pressed closer to that broad chest with its fascinating scatter of dark curls.She couldn’t wait to discover all the mysteries of his body.She couldn’t wait for him to discover all her mysteries, too.And of course, the greatest mystery of all awaited, when they joined together as husband and wife.
Tom drew away and leveled a searching stare at her.“Thank you so much for deciding that you’d rather marry me than move in with Great-Aunt Agatha.”
“It was a close-run thing,” she said, not meaning it.Great-Aunt Agatha hadn’t traveled down from Scotland for the wedding, but she’d sent the newlyweds a Wedgwood vase of surpassing ugliness to mark the occasion.
Tom gave an exaggerated shudder.“Don’t I know it?When your father looked so smug walking you down the aisle, I was terrified you’d take umbrage and pick up your skirts to scarper.”
The memory of that moment made her smile.She was too happy to muster much resentment for Papa’s machinations.She’d got what she wanted.If her father did as well, good for him.“He was rather pleased with himself, wasn’t he?”
