The morning of his wedding, Benjamin woke early and went to the master suite to see if he could gain a few moments alone with his father. Of course, the marquess was still sleeping, so Benjamin settled into the armchair beside the bed and waited. He must have nodded off, for he was awakened by his father’s voice.
“She's lovely, son. I say you've done well for yourself.”
Benjamin looked up to see his father trying to prop himself higher on his pillows. He immediately jumped to help.
Lord Eastleigh balked, clearly frustrated at needing help to sit up, but said, “Thank you,” nonetheless.
“Do the doctors permit you to drink?” Ben asked, knowing how much his father cherished his smuggled brandy.
“I hardly think it matters at this point.”
Benjamin's jaw tensed and twitched. Certainly his father was deteriorating, but he still didn't like to hear him talk like that. “If refraining from it will keep you with us longer, it most certainly does.”
“Look at me, Benjamin.” He did. “I'm not getting any better. It's time you come to grips with that and got me a blasted drink.”
He grimaced but did as his father bid him. Once they were settled, his father said once again, “She is a lovely girl, Ben.”
“I know.” Benjamin nodded. “I'm glad you like her.”
“How could I not? She is sweet and kind, with just enough fire to make her interesting. She reminds me of your mother when she was younger.”
Benjamin had never thought about it before, but it was true. Perhaps that was what attracted him to her in the first place. He'd always admired his mother—her strength of will and good heart. Phoebe, though young still, certainly had those same qualities.
“So you are happy with my choice?”
His father turned and focused his watery eyes on Benjamin. “You have always made me proud, Son. This is no exception.”
Benjamin stared back at his father, wondering what he would think of him if he knew the truth. That he had shot a man and fled his life out of fear and self-loathing. That the coward in him hadn’t even told Phoebe. He could never tell his father this, of course. It would only upset him, and Benjamin wanted his father's last thoughts of him to be good ones. There was no point ruining the man's impression, no matter how misguided it was.
“You are very quiet,” Lord Eastleigh observed after a few moments of silence.
Indeed, he was. And riddled with guilt. Not just over Phoebe, but over the fact he'd run off for a year and wasted precious time in America that could have been spent with his father.
“I'm sorry, Father,” he said, unable to look at him as he did.
His apology was met with a soft snore. It was just as well. The man needed his rest.
***
Before Benjamin knew it, he was standing in his father’s bedchamber with the rest of his family and the minister, awaiting his bride. Katherine, who had been somewhat put out by the fact they weren’t having the wedding at the church, had collected flowers from their hothouse and ordered that all the curtains be pulled back and the windows cracked for the occasion.
Though Benjamin would have been content to marry Phoebe in a dungeon, he was glad for his sister’s fussing. This way it would at least feel more like a proper wedding; he wanted that for Phoebe.
He turned to his father and noticed the color in his cheeks was higher than yesterday. And though it was weak, his smile was wide. Ben thrilled at the fact he had been able to fulfill his father’s wishes. It was quite a boon that Benjamin happened to be falling madly in love with his bride.
Becky poked her head into the room, and everyone turned to look at her. “She’s ready,” she announced, and the family moved into position.
Benjamin and the minister stood at the foot of the bed, where the marquess would have a good view of the nuptials. Everyone else lined up in two rows, forming an aisle for Phoebe to walk down with her mother. Kat, William and his mother stood on one side, the twins on the other.
Once they were all settled, Becky swung the door open to reveal Phoebe and Lady Grimsby waiting on the other side. Benjamin’s breath caught and his heart swelled. She was perhaps the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, and within a matter of minutes, she would be his. All his. Forever.
As they began the slow walk to the makeshift alter, Benjamin took the opportunity to admire the woman who would be his wife. She wore a yellow gown, so pale it was almost cream, made of thin muslin that fluttered about her ankles as she walked. It hugged her voluptuous curves and Ben found himself struggling to control his ardor. Good God, it wasn’t easy. The high waist of the gown fit snuggly below her bust, pushing her milky white breasts up until they very nearly poured from the neckline. But they didn’t, and that was what Ben found so very arousing.
He forced his eyes from her neckline to her face, suddenly very aware that he stood next to a man of the cloth. She bore the most brilliant smile he’d ever seen her wear. Her cheeks were rosy, her lips plumped, her eyes round and shining. Young spring daisies were strung through Phoebe’s thick auburn hair, which had been partially gathered on top of her head; the rest of the luxurious length cascaded down her back in a wavy mass.
Ben itched with the desire to run his fingers through her thick locks, but obviously, he refrained for the time being. It would be his priority, though, once they said
I do.
And then she was upon him, kissing her mother on the cheek and then turning to face him with that brilliant smile. He smiled back. He couldn’t help it; she was so radiant, and she was his . . . almost.
The minister began the ceremony with the famous words “Dearly beloved,” and that was all Benjamin heard. He was far too focused on the woman before him to pay attention to what the old vicar was saying. It wasn’t until he was prompted that he shook himself from his bride-induced trance.
“Do you, Benjamin Kendrick Wetherby, take Phoebe Isadora Blake to be your wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do you part?”
It was in this moment that Benjamin thought of Phoebe’s father. He wondered if perhaps he should have been forthright and told her about the duel; about the horrible thing he’d done a year ago. Perhaps he should have, for now he never could. Did that sort of dishonesty bode well for a happy marriage? Certainly hesitating before one said “I do” did not, so before too much time passed, Benjamin pushed the thoughts of the old baron from his mind and answered, “I do.”
The minister repeated the question to Phoebe, who promptly responded with an eager “I do” as well, and then Benjamin was encouraged to kiss his bride.
It felt a little awkward with his entire family bearing down on them and the reverend mere inches away, but Lord knew he wanted more than anything to seal their vows with a kiss. So, he stepped forward and gathered her in his arms, pulled her close and planted his lips on hers. It wasn’t enough; he might never get enough, but for now it would have to do. He released her to a chorus of congratulations and hugs, and then, before they all left to enjoy the wedding breakfast downstairs, Benjamin and Phoebe approached Lord Eastleigh.
He was exhausted—that much was obvious—but he seemed filled with joy at the same time.
He held out his hand for Benjamin to shake. “Congratulations, my son,” he said. Then he turned to Phoebe, who leaned in to place a kiss on his cheek. “Welcome to our family, Lady Glastonbury.”
***
Phoebe didn’t prolong their time at the wedding breakfast on purpose. At least, not on a completely conscious level. She was simply having a wonderful time with her new family, trying to assimilate herself into their sparring and teasing. It was great fun, she had to admit, and she thrilled at the thought that she was a part of them now.
In the back of her mind, she knew as soon as they left the breakfast and retired to Benjamin’s bedchamber, she probably wouldn’t see the light of day for quite some time. What she had been desperate for last night, she felt apprehensive about this morning. It wasn’t every day a girl lost her virginity, after all.
The night before, her head had spun with speculation. Would he want to see her in the nude? Would he expect her to do things to him?
Oh, Lord, she hoped not. She could handle being stark naked with him as long as he didn’t expect her to know what to do in regard to his person. She wouldn’t even know where to begin. Perhaps with that hard appendage that seemed to come into play every time he pressed her close for a kiss.
A blush crept to her cheeks, but she wasn’t exactly sure why. She wasn’t even entirely positive what that thing was! Why should she already be embarrassed about it?
“I do hope that blush is for me,” Benjamin whispered close to her ear as she raised her champagne flute to her lips.
The bubbles tickled and teased her tongue as they made their way down her throat, but the intoxicating drink did nothing to calm her sudden nerves. She tried to smile at her husband, but she was sure it ended up looking more like a grimace. Benjamin, however, had no trouble bringing a smile to his lips. He looked positively elated. Phoebe only hoped she wouldn’t dampen his elation once they were in bed.
“Are you all right, darling?” he asked as he took her hand in his.
“Fine,” she choked. “Just a little overwhelmed, that’s all.”
“You’re not nervous, are you?”
Phoebe felt the color rush into her cheeks, and her ears roared with embarrassment. Trying to maintain her composure, she cleared her throat and asked, “What would I have to be nervous about?”
Instead of answering her question, he said, “You have nothing to fear. I promise I’ll be gentle.”
“Benjamin!” she scolded, keeping her voice to as much of a whisper as she could. Though they stood a fair distance apart from the rest of the family, it wasn’t all that large of a room. “This is hardly the place to bring up such a topic.”
“But you’re my wife now. And nothing makes me happier than seeing you blush when I say inappropriate things.”
“They will all know what we’re talking about if you don’t stop.”
“I don’t think any of them would be surprised, my darling girl. Now, please don’t make me beg. Let me take you away from here.”
“But the party—”
“—can go on without us,” he finished, and then before she had another chance to protest, Benjamin was on his feet, announcing their imminent departure from the festivities.
Phoebe’s blush did not relent while she said her goodbyes, and she found herself unable to look any one of her new family members directly in the eye. How humiliating that all of them knew what was about to take place!
Even worse, she didn’t really know at all what was about to take place. It wasn’t fair at all!
“Come, my darling,” he said close to her ear once they had bid everyone goodbye.
He set such a brisk pace through the corridors of the castle that Phoebe was almost forced to run to keep up. She had never seen him like this: eager, almost hungry, as if he couldn’t possibly wait another moment to ravage her.
Benjamin turned the handle on a door at the end of the second-floor corridor. Phoebe tried to look inside, but Benjamin stopped her.
“Don’t you want to go in?” she asked, somewhat surprised he had the ability to stop himself.
“More than anything,” he replied gruffly. “But we must do this right.”
Phoebe gave a little squeal as he scooped her into his arms without warning. He kissed her, firmly and thoroughly, before carrying her over the threshold.
“You’re positively carnal!” she exclaimed as he tossed her onto the canopied bed.
“You have no idea,” came his growled response as he tore off his jacket and cravat. Then he bent to kiss her with a lust-hungry mouth. “You have no idea how long I have wanted to do this.” He nibbled at her ear and delighted in her involuntary gasp.
“I’m guessing about a week?” she said, though her breathing had grown somewhat shallow, thanks to his erotic ministrations.
He pulled away with a wide smile. “Let’s see if we can put that tongue to better use, shall we?”
With a bit of a slower pace, Benjamin rolled off her and then pulled her into his arms. She melted into his embrace as he lowered his lips to hers and kissed her.
“You are so beautiful,” he said against her mouth. “Exquisite . . . and you’re mine.”
She was his. All his. And nothing could have possibly made her happier in that moment. As her nerves abated, her senses heightened. She became more sensitive to his labored breathing, more aware of his citrus cologne. She reached tentative fingers up to touch his chest, still covered with layers of linen. But the soft fabric did nothing to mask the firmness and the heat that lie beneath.
Benjamin paused as she caressed him and met her hungry gaze with his own. “You have no idea what you do to me, my love,” he said, and Phoebe’s heart soared at the endearment. Whether he truly loved her or not, she did not know, but hearing the words from his mouth was enough for now.
He took her mouth again, but this time, his hands set to work unbuttoning the back of her gown. Phoebe was at once excited and terrified. But she didn’t have much time to contemplate whether or not he would find her breasts too small or her belly too large, or any other number of things that all of a sudden seemed inadequate, for he was already pulling the small sleeves from her shoulders. He made quick work of removing the dress entirely; Phoebe was in such a daze, she wasn’t exactly sure how he’d done it. And then she lay there next to him, wearing only her chemise and stockings, and feeling more nervous now than she had at any other time in her life.
He slowed his pace as he reached to untie the drawstring of the chemise. The proximity of his hands to her breasts sent a shiver of awareness straight to her toes. The buttons followed, though his pace had reached a level of painstaking slowness. But soon the chemise fell away, exposing her bare breasts to the air.
Benjamin sucked in a sharp breath, and instinct made Phoebe reach for the counterpane to cover herself up. But he stopped her before her hands were able to grip the fabric.
“No, darling.” His voice was a husky whisper. “Let me look at you.”
She did as she was told and waited impatiently while her husband looked his fill. Then his hand reached up to caress her bare bosom, sending an unfamiliar quiver to the depths of her belly as he gently tugged on her ruched nipple.
“Benjamin,” she began, not really knowing what she wanted to say.
“Shhh,” he quieted her. “It’s all right. It won’t always be this awkward for you.”
“It’s not that. I . . . I just want to make you happy,” she said, not quite sure how else to express herself. What did one say under such circumstances?
“Let me go first,” he replied, a roguish smile appearing on his lips.
“What do you . . . oh!” Benjamin lowered his head to her puckered nipple and suckled gently at the rosy bud.
Phoebe was lost from that point on, unable to think of anything but the astonishing intimacy she was sharing with this man.
Her man.
Benjamin blazed a trail of kisses down her stomach, stopping briefly to tease the tiny opening of her navel. Phoebe started when she realized he was not returning to her top half, but rather moving farther down her body with his taunting kisses. She tried to recoil from his hold, but he kept her firmly planted and then parted her legs. When his mouth found the auburn thatch of hair at the base of her stomach, she tried to protest.
“Benjamin,” came her breathless plea. “You can’t—what are you . . . is this even legal?”
Benjamin stopped abruptly, and an incredulous chuckle escaped. “I assure you it is sanctioned and approved by the clergy, my dear, and you’ll be quite glad of that in a few moments.”
Surrendering to the scandalous play of his tongue in her most intimate parts, Phoebe opened herself to him and gasped as he parted the folds of her sex. She was oblivious to anything but the feel of his tongue as it coaxed and caressed her. He murmured against her as if he feasted on the finest of meals, and when she thought it couldn’t possibly get any better, he slipped one slender finger deep inside of her. She rose up slightly off the bed, marveling at the strange intrusion. No one had ever informed her how splendid it could be to have her most private parts manipulated in such a scandalous way.
As Benjamin stroked and licked her with his probing tongue, he slipped yet another of his lengthy fingers inside her. Then stretched her. And licked her again and again.
Phoebe’s breath came in a series of spasmodic whimpers, and when he sucked ever so gently at her tiny bud, she splintered.
She writhed and bucked against him, reveling in the foreign sensations of the lust that consumed her; the blinding frenzy of pleasure that caused her skin to flush and her body to tense involuntarily.
When the delirium seemed to have eased, Benjamin pulled away from her, his own passion barely within his grasp. He was hard with need and when he removed the remainder of his clothing, revealing a long, hard shaft, Phoebe’s eyes flashed for the briefest of seconds with what he thought was terror. But then she smiled lazily and came up to her elbows to look at it.
Good God, he was going to climax under her intent scrutiny. That would not be good. He needed to make it perfect for her, to show her what could be between them.
He moved over her and lowered himself on top of her listless body. “I’m going to be as gentle as I can, darling,” he told her, “but you have to trust me. It will only hurt this once, I promise.” He planted tender kisses on her cheeks and eyelids, hoping the pain would not be too great.
He rose off her and parted her legs again, then lowered himself, nudging the tip of his sex into her moist opening. She winced slightly at the initial contact, and the moment he was forced to pause was pure torture. But then she gave him a brave and encouraging nod.
Thank God!
He continued to push forth, delighting in her warmth, in the perfect tightness of her, until he reached her maidenhead, and then he whispered softly in her ear. “Look at me, darling,” he urged. “Look into my eyes.”
She raised her gaze to his and then gasped as his shaft drove deep into her, filling every inch of her tight space. Benjamin paused to give her a moment to adjust, but when a bashful smile graced her lips, he could hold back no longer.
He plundered her over and over until at last he found his release. Sweet release inside of the beautiful woman who lay beneath him.
His beautiful wife.
***
Sometime later, Phoebe woke from what she assumed was a short doze. Though it must have been longer than she thought, for the sun waned on the horizon. She tilted her head back to look at her husband.
He met her eyes and smiled, then broke through the lazy silence. “Thank you,” he muttered.
“For what?” She propped herself up so they were practically nose-to-nose, reveling in the way his hands felt as they shifted over the bare skin of her lower back.
“Well, for agreeing to marry me on such short notice. For packing up your life. For letting us have the wedding in my father’s bedchamber. I don’t know how I can thank you enough.”
It was odd for him to be thanking her, when it was he who had saved her from quite a desperate situation. She wanted to tell him she’d done it because she loved him, but in the end, she said, “Benjamin, I did it because I care about you.”
A roguish smile came to his lips as he stared into her alluring brown eyes. “Show me how much you care, my sweet.”
And she did. Although she was still new to the intimacies of the marital bed, Phoebe allowed her instincts to guide her. She dared to take hold of his manhood, surprised to find that despite its hardened state, the skin proved to be soft and silky, like that of a newborn kitten. Permitting his hand to guide her, she coerced the shaft with methodical strokes until Benjamin declared emphatically that he needed to be inside her at once.
This time, the absence of pain and panic provided for a much more pleasurable experience. It would still take some time to get used to the odd invasion, but when Benjamin planted himself deep within her, she could think of nothing but the all-consuming pleasure that raced through her body.
Taking further liberties, she allowed her hands to wander aimlessly over her husband’s tanned skin and straining muscles as he sought to pleasure her. Having never seen him before without a shirt, she marveled at his hard, masculine form, now hers for the taking whenever she wanted.
As Phoebe climbed higher and higher into ecstasy, Benjamin fought to control his own ardor. When at last she reached the point of release, he, too, let go his reins and tumbled with her into blinding fulfillment.
The intimacy of the shared moment had them both trembling in one another’s embrace. Neither could speak for quite some time, choosing to silently find their way back to reality. Back to solid ground.
Sated and exhausted, Phoebe curled into Benjamin’s arms again and welcomed his touch as he caressed her lovingly back to sleep. Eventually, his hands fell limp and his breathing evened. Only then, just before she found her own reprieve from the arduous day, did Phoebe dare say what was in her heart: “I love you, Benjamin.”