Cressida's Dilemma (20 page)

“You do like it, don’t you?” she demanded, coming up for breath.

She was more than reassured by his groan, though before too long, he was once more on top of her, grinding out through clenched teeth, “You don’t know what you do to me, Cressy, my darling. Right now I could refuse you nothing.”

Supporting his weight on his forearms, he raised himself above her and looked down, his expression grave and deeply reverential, and in the brief silence, she felt her brain and body swirl with love and longing before craving for the physical held sway, and she arched her pelvis up to meet his.

“Then come to me, Justin,” she whispered, closing her eyes, for now she had the comfort of knowing there were a variety of ways to reduce the risks of pregnancy, and that was good enough for her. “I want to feel you inside me. I want to revel in you as you revel in me. I’m not afraid like I was before. I know so much more and you can withdraw. Oh—”

For without further preliminaries, he had taken her at her word, and in an instant her body was filled with him as her world was once again dominated by the man who’d stolen her heart so many years before.

It was a more gentle possession than the passionate couplings of the previous nights. Gentle, thorough, intense and deeply erotic as he thrust into her, his movements in tandem with his tongue, leaving her gasping, exulting in the exhaustion that came from the energy expended in loving him.

Every nerve ending quivered at the contact as she thrilled at the now familiar but so deeply missed feeling that began at her toes and spread its all-encompassing wave of sensation up throughout her body before engulfing her in ecstasy. Only her husband had this power over her, and she gladly offered him everything she had to give.

Her climax was deep and intense, racking her with shudders as he withdrew upon a groan to spill his seed beside her.

No, there would be no little angels joining their siblings in the nursery for a while, though, should it happen by chance, Cressida felt strong enough to embrace a timely addition. The control and responsibility Justin shared with her and the reinforcement of his love were her reward for the pain that had gone before.

* * * *

Justin was waiting at the foot of the stairs when Cressida emerged wearing a fashionable gown of primrose lustring beneath a white fur-edged pelisse.

“Good morning, king of husbands,” she said softly.

“Good morning, queen of wives,” he murmured, holding out his hand and indicating the open door with a flourish. “Shall we go? I believe the time has come to show our support of the love match—a great institution, for all that I was skeptical of the merits of succeeding with your little scheme when I anticipated the damage to the reputations involved occasioned by the advanced timing. I am surprised Lord Slitherton was so easily appeased when it is well known Mrs. Hardwicke could not have offered anything in the way of financial or meritorious recompense.”

Cressida looked sly as they descended the steps to their waiting carriage. “Then you clearly are unaware of the efforts I expended with a certain co-conspirator behind the scenes to ensure that matters of the heart would prevail.” She put her hand on Justin’s sleeve to explain. “There’s something about happiness that makes one want to see it enjoyed by the whole world, when one’s been blessed by it, oneself.”

“A co-conspirator?” He looked intrigued. “Catherine?”

Cressida laughed as the footman handed her up, and Justin joined her inside the carriage. “Now you’re being ridiculous. However, I am rather buoyed up by my success with regard to Miss Hardwick and Mr. Pendleton.” She chewed her lip thoughtfully. “Don’t put it past my abilities that I might yet see Catherine bask in the glow of mutual love and adoration. I’ll have her eating out of my hand, one day.”

“Just as you’ve had me eating out of yours since the day I set eyes on you.” He leaned across and chucked her under the chin as the coachman cracked the whip and they lurched forward.

Cressida returned his smile, her heart filling with happiness as she watched the playful glint in his eye be replaced by admiration. “Isn’t there a wealth of surprises hiding behind the innocent visage you present to the world, Cressy? By God, I’m a lucky man, and you know I could refuse you nothing.”

His voice had lowered to a suggestive growl by the end of this statement, and Cressida, still glowing, seized the unexpected opportunity. “If you truly mean that, my darling,” she said earnestly, “there are a few matters I would urge you to take up.”

Justin looked so concerned at this that Cressida giggled. “Oh, nothing to do with your quite extraordinary prowess in the bedroom,” she replied throatily, feeling ridiculously naughty for voicing such things aloud, even though they were cocooned in a moving carriage with no possibility of being overheard. On a more serious note, she went on, “It’s about the girls I met at Mrs. Plumb’s—”

“Please don’t talk about the experiences you were subjected to on account of my dereliction of duty—”

It was Cressida’s turn to cut him off. “You don’t understand, Justin. It was the most liberating experience of my life. Well, almost,” she amended with a knowing smile. “The
outcome
of what occurred as a result of our association with Madame Zirelli was the most liberating experience of my life, but meeting the young women who worked there and learning of the sad and terrible events which had led them to Madame Plumb’s is something I can never forget. I feel that something must be done about it.”

Justin sighed and took her hand. “You wish for the impossible, Cressida dearest. I, too, share your outrage on their behalf. Truly I do. But it will take a hundred years to change attitudes toward these women who have, through no fault of their own, become society’s detritus.”

“Through no fault of their own, that’s correct, Justin.” She pushed her shoulders back and removed her hand, prepared to do battle, so strongly did she feel. “However, their falls from grace are generally as a result of a
man
who can behave with impunity!”

“Not all men believe they have that right, Cressy,” Justin soothed.

“Of course not, Justin, and aren’t you living proof?” She touched his cheek and smiled. “However, you are in a position to help some of these women. I met four of them at Mrs. Plumb’s. One was a parson’s daughter. Yes, can you believe it! A parson’s daughter, just as I am. She became separated from her godmother during her first visit to capital and was tricked by an evil old woman who…used her for her own ends. Now this poor parson’s daughter can only hope her parents believe her dead as her fate would appear—in their eyes —worse than death. She can never go back for the shame, she believes, will kill them.” She drew in a shuddering breath. “Tell me, Justin, is that right? Is it the fault of this country girl who knew nothing of London’s wicked ways and was tricked when she was barely out of the schoolroom? Is it right she can never go home because of the scandal it would occasion her parents?”

“Of course not, my dear—”

“And then there was an innkeeper’s daughter who’d married a gentleman who’d be disinherited if his marriage were to be discovered before he was five-and-twenty. She keeps body and soul together by dancing at Mrs. Plumb’s and must continue to do so until he is of age. Is that right?”

“Please, listen to me, Cressida…” Justin gripped both of Cressida’s hands tightly and gave them a squeeze.

Cressida, who’d opened her mouth to continue, exhaled, and let him speak.

“We are off to attend a wedding. A joyous occasion and one for which you can take almost full credit.” His lips quirked in a wry smile. “Though I’d like to imagine I played a small role.”

Cressida returned the pressure of his hands and nodded. “More than that, Justin.”

“Thank you. Admittedly, it was through more than a little cajoling on your behalf, but the fact is, you made me see that rattling society’s sensibilities does not always lead to a negative result, as I’d believed.”

“Exactly, Justin. And I tried to tell you—”

“Indeed you did, and you were quite right.”

Cressida waited, her heart beating almost painfully.

“You also taught me that regardless of society’s prevailing attitudes, the changes one individual can make for advancing the happiness of even one single person makes the effort more than worthwhile.”

Cressida bit her lip. Smiling tensely she asked, “So advancing Miss Hardwicke’s happiness isn’t the last time you’re prepared to…rattle society’s sensibilities?”

Justin cocked his head, then raised his eyes heavenward. “Lord, Cressida, haven’t I already said I can refuse you nothing?”

Cressida covered her face with her hands and shivered with hopeful resolve as she thought of the terrible plights of the four Vestal Virgins and of how much she’d like to see their collective happiness advanced.

“Thank you, Justin,” she murmured, dropping her hands to smile up at her husband. A smile with an edge of devilry. Snapping open her fan, she fluttered her eyelashes over the top of its ivory tips. “Just know, my darling,” she whispered throatily, “that I’m prepared to go to great lengths to repay you for your efforts.”

* * * *

Well-wishers cheered the bride and groom as they stepped out of St Mary’s. The turnout might have been sparser on account of a bridegroom less well connected than his predecessor, but the joy reflected on the faces of the bridal couple showed nothing but their own happiness.

Their closest kin had not abandoned them, nor had Miss Hardwicke’s fears been realized, that following her heart would shorten her mother’s life. In fact, rumor had it that Mrs. Hardwicke had rallied following the sudden support of her younger brother, Sir Robert, and his unexpected largesse in providing his niece with a handsome dowry.

Justin clasped Cressida’s hand and squeezed it briefly as several children cast rose petals from their rush baskets at the now serenely smiling bride and the grinning bridegroom, his unfettered pleasure a welcome contrast to the bemused diffidence he’d shown barely a week ago when informing Cressida and Justin that his suit had been accepted. The intensely shy and quiet young man had been all but dragged out of his lodgings by Justin and his landlady, the redoubtable Mrs. Sminks, to beg his love to take a chance on the promise of his imminent elevation and renege on the bridegroom for whom she felt nothing but abhorrence. Miss Hardwicke had been due to wed Lord Slitherton within days and, although the strength of her feelings for Mr. Pendleton had been in no doubt, it had taken some persuasion to convince her that she was not going to be, indirectly, the death of her ailing mama.

Cressida considered herself justly proud of the current state of affairs and so felt a surge of pleasure and gratification when she caught sight of Madame Zirelli. Her former benefactress had brought tears to the eyes of the congregation with her pure, sweet voice in church earlier. Now the brilliant sunshine that sliced through the lowering sky illuminated the rawness of Madame Zirelli’s feelings as she raised her head to peer past Annabelle Luscombe’s rose-trimmed bonnet in order to observe her daughter standing on the church steps with her new husband.

Sheathed in a fashionable gown of iris blue silk with opaque sleeves and a fetching bonnet adorned with tumbling roses, Madame Zirelli was a striking figure as she stood a little distance from the crowd.

The handsome gentleman who joined her appeared to think so too, remarked Cressida, pointing him out to Justin. Tall and distinguished looking, Sir Robert said something that caused his companion to jerk her head up and clasp her hand to her mouth.

A rustle of silk and the scent of musk made Cressida turn as a familiar voice murmured, “Word has it that Sir Robert is in the market for a wife and, by the cunning look on her face, the hired entertainment imagines she’s in the running.” The scorn in Catherine’s thin voice cut through Cressida like a lance. She glared as Catherine went on, “She might sing like a nightingale, but she’ll forever be tainted by Mrs. Plumb’s. Naturally, I had to make it clear to as many as I could that Mrs. Plumb’s Salon of Sin is where Sir Robert found his faded opera singer. I’m astonished she has the gall to mix with the invited guests.”

Justin looked strangely at his wife’s cousin. Catherine’s mouth was pursed as if she’d eaten a lemon.

“If you consider yourself more of a lady than Madame Zirelli, I’d remind you to keep your voice down, Catherine. We are in a public square, and Madame Zirelli is an opera singer whose reputation is in no way besmirched by the fact she lodges with Mrs. Plumb.” He exchanged glances with Cressida, who laughed at her cousin’s shock when he added, “You may be surprised that
my old friend
Madame Zirelli is now an intimate of Cressida’s. Perhaps you would be persuaded to revise your opinion of her if you were to join us for dinner next week, when we shall entertain Madame Zirelli and a selection of notables from the arts.”

Catherine, usually so quick with her acid rejoinders, was momentarily rendered speechless. Justin continued, “For some weeks, I attended Madame Zirelli at her lodgings at Mrs. Plumb’s establishment on a legal matter, just as I’d advised her of her rights eight years earlier, with regard to her then husband Lord Grainger’s ill treatment of her.”

“Lately, she has advised me on other matters”—Cressida’s smile was secretive as she looked first at Catherine then at her husband—“which have greatly facilitated my happiness.”

Before Catherine could snap closed her gaping mouth, their attention was diverted by the collective gasp that rippled through the crowd. The bride had tossed her bouquet over her shoulder, and half a dozen young hopefuls were jostling each other with unseemly enthusiasm as it flew through the air. All eyes were on the trailing pink ribbons that secured the bouquet of white roses as it sailed in a graceful arc over the single misses at the front of the pack to land neatly in the unsuspecting Madame Zirelli’s now demurely clasped hands.

Cressida, like everyone else, saw Sir Robert smile and whisper something in Madame Zirelli’s ear, causing her to raise her hand to her breast and a fiery blush to stain her cheeks.