Lila opened her eyes to a room that was not her own.
This ceiling was much lower, cracked in several places and a dingy ivory. No large carved posts, no rose-colored velvet drapes.
The realization of Lila’s new life dawned on her slowly.
And yet, she realized as she turned her head, she had awoken alone.
She was no longer a maiden. After six and twenty years, she’d finally given herself to a man, to her husband.
Who was likely already growing impatient that she’d yet to have risen for the day. Lila glanced toward the bag she’d brought along with her. She should have removed the gown she’d intended to wear today and laid it out so it would not be wrinkled. She ought to have brushed out the one she’d worn the day before. Things Fran normally did but Lila had taken for granted. She’d have to remember to thank her maid when she saw her again.
She’d not slept a great deal, far too aware of the man dozing beside her and today she would pay for her lack of sleep.
Without a maid to assist her.
Lazy. She chastised herself and climbed out of bed to tackle the business of dressing and preparing for another day’s travel.
When she finally presented herself outside, she was disappointed to see that her husband had saddled his mount, leaving Lila to ride inside the coach alone again. She’d rather hoped to have some company today.
She’d hoped he might seem friendlier.
Catching sight of her, he nodded in approval, handed the mare off to a driver and covered the distance between them. “You’re prepared to travel?” His gaze flicked to her bag. “Did you get anything to eat?”
She shook her head. She normally wasn’t very hungry in the mornings.
“Calvin!” He waved a hand to the manservants who rode up with the driver. “Her Grace requires some rations to break her fast.”
The day before, Lila hadn’t paid much heed to anything or anyone, she’d been so fraught with uncertainty. Today she took note of both the driver and the outrider. Both were similar in appearance, red-haired and burly. The driver, whom she remembered being addressed as Drake, appeared to be the elder of the two. Perhaps they were brothers.
“I don’t normally eat much in the mornings.” Suddenly, she felt shy again. She might not have this chance again, however, anytime soon. “I was hoping you would ride with me today.” And then she bit her lip.
With a glance over his shoulder, he studied his mount. And then his eyes shifted back to the carriage. “I usually ride.”
“But we are newly married. I would like to come to know more about my husband.” And for some reason, she felt herself blushing again.
Lila was not one to blush. She wondered when all of these unsettling emotions might settle down. Surely, they couldn’t last throughout the course of her marriage.
Pemberth glanced over his shoulder again. Calvin was already emerging from the inn, a small basket in hand.
And then Pemberth surprised and pleased her. “Very well. For a while, anyhow.”
Excusing himself, he went to have a word with his outrider, took the basket from him, and returned to assist Lila into the carriage.
If she was to endure another day in this Godforsaken vehicle, at least she would have company while doing so. She sat facing forward and her husband climbed in beside her.
The interior shrunk with his presence, and Lila’s heart felt as though it skipped every other beat. Hopefully, this hadn’t been a mistake.
As the carriage lurched into motion, Lila gripped the leather strap and turned herself to partially face him.
He didn’t look at all comfortable. The bench seat hadn’t been built for a man of his size, and she ought to have perhaps considered this before posing her request. Irritating him was not going to get him to send for Arianna any sooner.
“I’m glad it isn’t raining,” she began. Anything to fill the long silences he seemed to prefer. “You mentioned you were needed back at your estate. Do you have meetings?”
Oh, but his eyes were such a light blue that they almost appeared silver. He shifted on the bench and turned to face her as well. He’d lifted one knee partially onto the upholstery, causing their knees to touch.
Lila swallowed hard.
“No,” he answered curtly.
“Tell me about the duties that fill your time.” She played with the ruffle on one of her sleeves. Perhaps she appeared less attractive to him today. She’d been unable to affect the same neat chignon Fran had the day before and the pale blue traveling gown she’d donned was more wrinkled than smooth.
He drew her attention back to his face when he let out a long sigh. “The Pemberth Dukedom. My estate.” And then, “Our estate.” He met her gaze steadily. “Is… not financially viable at this time. Tenants are quickly abandoning it for more lucrative prospects.”
Lila processed such information. “So, my father did not pay you to marry me?”
He was shaking his head. “He did not.” His answer came as a surprise. “I married you in order to pay off a debt. A debt incurred by my brother.”
For some reason, this information deflated Lila more than she would have imagined. Had her father paid him to marry her, then he would have had some choice in the matter.
Had the debt been his own, he would have still had some choice in the matter.
But he’d had no choice at all.
A gun might as well have been held to his head when he’d taken his wedding vows.
Vincent could see she’d been unsuspecting of the true nature of their marriage. Although she’d been partially right, he supposed there were, indeed, some differences.
She looked almost disappointed.
“I am even more of a burden than I had imagined.” Her sunny outlook seemed to have vanished and some of the light left her eyes. Vincent didn’t know why it mattered. He hadn’t expected his wife’s emotions to affect him much at all.
But…
“I needed to marry anyhow.” Which was true, of course. And she had satisfied him immensely the night before. He reached out a hand and touched her knee in a few soothing strokes. “You are as good as any other.”
Perhaps he ought to have phrased that differently.
“I mean—”
“No, I understand. It’s better than the last time. At least you did not marry a spinster to spite him.”
Vincent shifted in search of a more comfortable position. “Is this damn carriage hitting every rock and rut in all of England?”
She didn’t answer him, choosing instead to turn away and stare out the window. He felt like something of a jackass for speaking his mind so plainly.
“You mentioned you were betrothed before.” Quimbly had been upfront about this fact but hadn’t explained why she’d been jilted. It had worried Vincent at the time but now, having seen her, he couldn’t imagine why the man had done something so dishonorable as to cry off and leave a perfectly fine young woman to suffer the consequences.
Especially her. His cock stirred at the memory of the night before. He couldn’t remember ever getting so excited over any woman. Perhaps it was the novelty of having her for a wife…
“I’ve convinced myself that Blakely was more reluctant to take on my father as an in-law than he was to take me on as a wife,” she answered without turning around. “My former fiancé married another before breaking it off. There are rumors…” But then she shuttered her gaze. “Both of our fathers tried to force Lord Blakely to honor the betrothal but, rather than do so, he eloped with another woman.”
“Gretna?”
“Yes. I’ve never seen her, but my father says she’s hideous. Blakely is the heir to the Duke of Waters and, I’m told, chose to marry Miss Emily Goodnight, a bespectacled bluestocking, rather than be saddled with me.”
Vincent rubbed his chin. “Definitely the father-in-law.” He slid her a sideways glance, hoping to lift her spirits. “His loss is my gain.”
“Ha!” She turned skeptical eyes back on him, ignoring the window once again.
Ah, yes. “As of last evening, I’m quite pleased to find myself saddled with you.” He allowed his gaze to rove down her neck, to her chest and waist. The fingers on his hand that remained on her leg began gradually gathering the material of her skirt, edging it upward.
Her breath hitched.
“Is it wise?” She took a guess at his intent. “To do it again so soon?”
This gave him pause.
“Are you sore?” She hadn’t acted as though she was tender, but how was he to know?
She shook her head, eyes wide, but then answered, “A little.”
“There are other things a man and woman can do.” They had a long distance to travel today with nothing for entertainment. The uncomfortable seats would make sleep nigh impossible.
His fingers renewed their purpose, exposing toned calves hidden beneath woolen stockings. And above them, the softer and naked flesh of her thigh. In less than two minutes, he managed to have her sitting in a pile of her skirts, both lovely legs exposed for his enjoyment.
“May I?” he asked with a cock of one eyebrow. She frowned in confusion but nodded.
Later, he’d examine how she’d come to trust him so easily, but for now, he dropped onto the floor, kneeling before her. Small white teeth tugged at her bottom lip, sending what blood remained in his head to a much lower part of his anatomy.
Using both hands now, he pushed her skirts higher.
He’d not seen her last night. None of her, really. He’d touched her intimately, he’d driven his body into hers, but he’d not been able to enjoy her this way.
“Lie back,” he ordered and as she did so, he lifted her knees and set each upon one of his shoulders.
Lush and pink, better than he’d imagined. She let out a cry, and he halted to meet her gaze. “A woman can be beautiful in more ways than one.” As he spoke, his hand slid upward. He could not resist.
He leaned forward and stole the most intimate of kisses.
When Lila had set out to get to know the man she’d married a little better, in all her imaginings, she’d not imagined…
This.
One hand on the strap above her, her other searched for purchase on the bench. She’d nearly slid off the seat and her knees dangled over his shoulders. Feeling like something of a voyeur to her own illicit behavior, she drank in the sight of his thick blond hair as he worked between her thighs.
Dora had not even hinted at such… depravity.
The carriage hit a rut and his grip tightened when her hips slid, pressing her harder against his…
Mouth.
“Oh.” She couldn’t stop herself from crying out as the friction of the stubble on his face rubbed against her. And then the warmth of his tongue. The wetness added to her own.
A trembling need was building inside her, the same one she recognized from the night before. Only this time, the pleasure might be absent any pain.
She writhed as he created sensations she could hardly begin to comprehend. What on earth was he doing to insight them? Merely contemplating where his tongue was, that he enjoyed doing something like this, made her want to thrust herself at him harder.
His wanting her made her want him.
“Pemberth!” His name escaped on a gasp.
His hand covered her mouth, stifling her sounds.
“If you make too much noise, Drake will think we want him to stop.” His voice was muffled but she appreciated that he hadn’t paused in his activities.
And now she tasted the salt on his hand. He’d been touching her.
And it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but this. By now the jostling of the carriage only heightened each stroke of his tongue, each thrust of his fingers. The world spiraled around her as she gave herself over completely. He could play her. He could dine on her. This need… it had stolen her will in the most unexpected way.
And just as the world shattered, she became vaguely aware of the carriage listing to one side and slowing to a halt.
She slumped onto the bench with closed eyes, uncaring of her modesty or what was going on around them.
“That damned wheel!” Her husband’s voice penetrated her satiated fog, and he drew back, leaving her feeling somewhat bereft all of a sudden.
The carriage. The wheel. A driver and an outrider right outside the door.
“Oh, blast.” She lowered her gown and sat up primly on the bench. Pemberth’s lips were glossy and his face slightly damp.
Feeling rather proud of herself, she handed him a clean cotton handkerchief.
The broken carriage had irritated him, yes, but not so much that he didn’t send her a wicked glance before opening the door and leaping out.