Redemption of the Duke (22 page)

Faith could only be in awe of both these women, running estates like men, yet had
found love with men who respected them. She felt herself mildly envious, because she
didn’t know if she’d ever join the ranks of well-loved women. She didn’t know what
her future would hold. And it was frightening.

“So how did you two meet?” Lady Knightsbridge asked. She tilted her head in Faith’s
direction. “My husband was not very good at discovering the romantic details.”

“There weren’t many romantic details to tell,” Adam said. “I offered her a position
as lady’s companion with my aunt.”

Faith blushed, knowing they all understood that living within the same household had
contributed toward the hasty marriage. But all their expressions remained pleasant
and interested.

“None of us were romantic,” Lady Blackthorne said. “I asked my husband to marry me
in a letter to India, since I needed access to my inheritance. I never thought we’d
even meet.”

Lady Knightsbridge chuckled. “And I needed an escort away from my family, so my dear
Robert offered to pretend to be my fiancé.”

Faith almost gaped at the forthright women, noticing how all the men just watched
them fondly before exchanging amused glances with each other. She realized that, just
like Adam, Blackthorne and Knightsbridge also wanted to make up for the mistakes they’d
made in India. It had obviously worked out for all of them.

She just couldn’t imagine such a happy ending for her and Adam. Faith had secrets
to hide that must never be revealed. But at least Adam knew, which made her feel a
little less deceptive.

She eventually mingled with other guests, all of whom she’d met either in Society
or at her engagement party. She noticed the revolving partners that whirled around
Sophia, Lord Shenstone as her false suitor, Mr. Percy as her “friend” who was beginning
to behave like a martyr, and Lady Emmeline, glorying in the sympathy of every man
who knew her. It was like a Shakespearean comedy, only Faith could not see how any
happy endings would result.

At one point, when Adam left her alone, his mother came up to point out someone she’d
felt that Faith had slighted with attention so far. Faith thanked her and was about
to do her bidding, when the dowager duchess stopped her.

“Faith,” she said, using her Christian name for the first time, “my son tells me you
did not wish to take a wedding trip.”

“No, Your Grace. You all have done too much for me. I would rather stay here and continue
my help with Lady Duncan’s speeches.”

“But you should also think of yourself now. You must be tired from the exertions of
a hurried wedding.”

Faith tried not to frown, knowing she’d done nothing more than nod her head in approval
to anything the duchess wanted.

“Do go and see Rothford Castle. You might find yourself preferring it to London. Adam
will be so busy now that he’s taking a more active role in the House of Lords.”

And then Faith realized that the woman was trying to get rid of her. After everything
she’d done these past weeks to make up for her accidental entry into this family,
accepting questionable menu choices for her wedding breakfast, allowing the pale pink
gown when another had caught her fancy, Faith had had enough.

“Your Grace, I will see Rothford Castle when Adam wishes me to. And even then, I imagine
we will see it together. We are newlyweds, after all.”

Adam’s mother stared at her narrow-eyed for a moment, perhaps sizing her up, before
giving a reluctant nod and moving away.

Faith’s heart was still pounding from the encounter, but she chanced to see Adam staring
at her from ten feet away, wearing an approving smile.

“Very impressive,” said a woman from much closer.

Faith turned to find Lady Knightsbridge sitting alone at the nearest table, her head
cocked in an attitude of listening.

She felt herself blushing. “My lady, I hope you do not think me rude to the woman
who is now my mother-in-law.”

“Oh, no, it was really quite entertaining. She obviously needed to be reminded that
you are her son’s choice.”

“But not hers,” Faith said in a rueful voice.

“Do sit down, Your Grace.”

Faith did so. “It seems strange to be called that. I’ve always simply been Faith.”

“And I am Audrey. I, too, was a commoner when I married Robert, but there was no one
to object, for he was very alone, with little close family. That is your own family
situation, too, am I correct?”

Faith nodded, then remembered Audrey couldn’t see her. “Yes. My brother died serving
with the Eighth Dragoons.”

“As did my late husband, as well as Cecilia’s father. We women are connected in a
way, are we not? Three honorable men wanted to help us, and in some ways recover their
own self-worth. I don’t know about you, but it was very difficult to separate the
need to help from the true emotion of love.”

“I don’t think I’m there yet,” Faith admitted, then winced. She didn’t even know this
woman.

Audrey’s smile was soft but determined. “Be patient with yourself and with him. Though
I cannot see, I can hear the respect and admiration in the duke’s voice when he speaks
of you. Close quarters can only increase that and deepen emotion. That happened for
me. I will pray that the same happens for you. Who knows, maybe it already has, and
you’re afraid to admit it.”

Faith could only blink in astonishment.

“There, you’re tongue-tied,” Audrey said, her smile growing into a sly grin. “I must
be close to the truth. But don’t answer. You must believe it yourself.”

S
ince the bride and groom usually left for a wedding trip after the breakfast, Faith
felt a little silly and self-conscious just moving aimlessly about the house until
the coming wedding night. Surely she’d feel eyes watching her, and many not happily,
so she headed for her room. The duchess had been civil after Faith held her own in
conversation, but Lady Tunbridge hadn’t even bothered to congratulate her on the wedding.

But at least she’d allowed Frances to attend, dressed in a beautiful new gown Faith
had asked to have made for her. She was still surprised Lady Tunbridge had accepted.

When she arrived in her room, she found the door open and all of her personal effects
gone.

Ellen rose from a chair near the hearth and smiled. “Good afternoon, Your Grace.”

Faith shook her head even as she returned the smile. “That is so strange to hear.”

“I moved all your things for you, but thought you’d forget and come here first.”

“You’re starting to know me too well, Ellen.”

The girl blushed. “Come with me—wait until you see your beautiful suite!”

And it was truly beautiful, with a brass bed, a dressing table with a heart-shaped
mirror, wardrobe, chest of drawers, and a chaise longue at the foot of the bed. The
paintings were lush landscapes of gardens and green rolling hills.

“I’m told those are the grounds of Rothford Castle, ma’am,” Ellen said. “It was built
many centuries ago. I’m excited to visit.”

Faith smiled at the now-talkative maid. “I imagine we’ll go soon, but I don’t know
when. I guess we’ll try to be patient.”

Ellen walked her through the rest of the suite, her dressing room and bathroom, a
shared sitting room, then they entered the master bedroom, with its dressing room
and bath on the far side. The bed was massive, a four-poster with heavy curtains and
a counterpane that matched a nearby sofa. Faith caught Ellen deliberately looking
away from it, which amused and helped her relax. Then she retreated to her own bedchamber
with its lovely writing desk full of little drawers, and started a dutiful letter
to her mother about the wedding.

Later that afternoon, as she was trying to decide what to wear to dinner after her
bath, Ellen came in and said, “Oh, no, Your Grace, the duke has ordered dinner brought
to your sitting room.”

“Oh. How thoughtful.” And private. She couldn’t decide if she was glad to avoid the
rest of the household or sad she wouldn’t have the distraction.

One would think she was a virgin, the way she was so nervous!

“Your Grace, let us choose a gown that’s easy to remove.”

“Ellen!” Faith exclaimed, but she was laughing and blushing at the same time.

The maid put her hands on her hips. “Well, you won’t want me to come back after dinner,
now will you?”

Chapter 21

F
aith remained in her bedroom until a maid respectfully announced that dinner was served
in the duke’s sitting room. Taking a deep breath, she walked slowly to the door, telling
herself that at least for tonight, she’d try to do nothing to remind her groom that
there had been two men before him—one he didn’t even know about because she could
not allow him to regularly look upon Timothy and know he’d taken Faith’s virginity.
So she would be quiet in her passion, restrained and dignified, even if it took every
bit of her control. And it would, for she’d been drawn to Adam almost from the first
moment of seeing him, and her anticipation had only continued to rise until it was
like an ache that just wouldn’t go away.

She entered the sitting room and found that a small table had been set with beautiful
china and linens, and tall candles blazed in the center. She stood there admiring
it until the far door opened and Adam came in, his hair damp from the bath, shirt
open at the collar, trousers and bare feet. They really were having an informal dinner,
she thought, hiding a smile.

“What?” he asked, grinning.

“With your bare feet, you are making me feel terribly overdressed.”

His smile faded, and he came to her. “You’re very overdressed.”

And then he pulled her into his arms hungrily, bringing her up on her tiptoes until
she twined her arms around his neck for their kiss.

He kissed every part of her face, nuzzled behind her ear, then murmured, “Take down
your hair.”

She almost asked about dinner, and realized she’d only be betraying her nerves. And
she, a woman with experience.

Reaching up, she began to pull the pins from her hair, and he watched with the rapt
attention of a man about to win a prize he’d long coveted.

“It was hell watching you all day and not touching,” he said in a hoarse voice, once
her dark hair fell about her shoulders. He put his hands deep in her hair and lifted
it to his face. “Heavenly.” Then he fisted it gently to pull her back against him.
“Can dinner wait? I’m only hungry for you.”

“You make me blush with such flattery,” she said, smiling with pleasure.

He put his hands on the buttons at her throat. “May I make you blush another way?”

Her breath caught, and at first all she could do was nod. “I can remove this, if you’d
like.”

“Let me. Convenient buttons, by the way.”

“The gown was chosen for ease.”

He chuckled. Each movement of his dexterous hands from button to button was as arousing
as if he stroked her. At last he spread wide her bodice, and inhaled sharply upon
just seeing her silky chemise.

“You’re not wearing a corset,” he said hoarsely.

“You’re not displeased?”

“God, no.”

He slid his hands up the side of her rib cage, just touching the outer curves of her
breasts, making her shudder. At her shoulders, he pushed the gown back and down her
arms, which made her arch forward. The neckline of the chemise revealed the upper
slopes of her breasts, with no girlish frills to distract, and he was staring there,
those blue eyes narrowed and intent. It was as if he forgot about pulling her hands
out of her tight sleeves, leaving her almost trapped, bound.

His hands did a slow slide from her waist over her rib cage and up, just cupping her
breasts, as if feeling their weight. She threw her head back and stared up at him,
begging him with her eyes to do more, to touch more, to make her . . . feel.

And then his thumbs brushed her nipples, and she jerked at the shock of pleasure that
centered between her thighs. She whispered his name, even as he began to stroke her
more rhythmically through the silk, rubbing and plucking until she was mindless with
urgency.

“Let me hold you, let me touch you,” she gasped, still constrained by her sleeves
and the back of the sofa behind her.

But as if he hadn’t heard, he bent and pressed light kisses along the bodice of her
chemise, then went farther, taking her nipple into his mouth through the garment.

She cried out at the exquisite pleasure. “Please, oh, please,” she begged, knowing
exactly what she needed.

At last her arm came free and she reached up to pull down her chemise, to rip the
strap if she had to.

He stopped her hand. “No, let me.”

She had a momentary feeling of apprehension, as if she’d done something wrong, revealed
her experience.

“I need to do this,” he said against her throat. “I’ve been waiting so long.”

She melted at those words, tried to put away her fears. He pulled her bodice down
and the gown pooled at her feet, leaving just the sheer chemise. And then he caressed
her body through it, as if delaying the reveal like a package at Christmas. But at
last she was able to touch him, to run her hands up his arms, to sink her fingers
into his thick, silky hair and hold him to her.

She felt a draft on the backs of her thighs and knew he was fisting the chemise in
both hands, pulling it slowly upward. She lifted her arms and it came right off.

She was nude, and without thinking, she folded her arms at the top of her head, displaying
herself provocatively. It didn’t matter that he was still fully clothed; her heavy
breasts and rounded hips seemed to please him, and that excited her.

“To think you once hid this magnificence behind shapeless gowns,” he said with fervor.

For just a moment, her eyes stung at such generous praise. It was so hard to believe
herself worthy of it.

“You’re thinking again,” he said. “Don’t think.”

And then he pulled his shirt over his head and she didn’t want to think about anything
but him. She’d never seen a man whose body rivaled what she’d seen in museum statues—she’d
almost thought they had to be exaggerated, but now she knew otherwise. He was perfectly
proportioned, chest well muscled and scattered with light brown hair, which continued
down over the ridges of his abdomen. There were puckered scars of course, the marks
of war, but none that looked deep or nearly fatal. She let her hands roam over him,
knowing he found as much pleasure in it as she did. And then he brought her up hard
against him, bare flesh to bare flesh, her nipples teased by the hair on his chest.
She put her hands on his trousers and unbuttoned with too much expertise, but she
was beyond caring now. When his trousers and underclothes fell to the floor, she took
his heavy cock in her hand and stroked.

With a groan, he stopped her by lifting her off her feet and carrying her into his
bedroom. He laid her back on the bed, and she let her hair fall all around her, reaching
for him.

He came down beside her and began a slow exploration that near drove her out of her
mind with wanting. Every caress was so filled with tenderness and admiration, as if
her pleasure were more important than his own. Much as she’d enjoyed the act before,
this was a revelation, a true mark of his care for her.

She rolled onto her side to face him, leaning in to kiss him even as his fingers slid
between her thighs.

“Oh,” she moaned, raising her knee, letting him explore, as she focused her own teasing
touch on his erection.

They kissed with hungry mouths, making love sounds that only heightened her arousal.
She whimpered as he circled the most pleasure-sensitive part of her, then delved deep
inside. She tightened her sheath around his fingers, and he met her eyes in shock.

“Take me, Adam,” she breathed, eyes half closed in arousal. “Please. I’m ready.”

He rolled her onto her back and settled between her thighs. She lifted her legs off
the bed, clutched him with her knees, doing her best to guide him where she wanted.

He laughed against her mouth. “Impatient, are you?”

“Yes, yes, impatient for you.”

And then he sank into her, and it was as if she’d been waiting for this joining from
the moment they’d met. They were together, together forever, and he looked down into
her eyes even as he moved against her forcefully. She moved her body with his, knowing
what she wanted, feeling the spiraling rise of desire overwhelm her before she could
even think to make it last. She shuddered beneath him, the pleasure expanding outward
until every part of her body seemed a part of his.

She opened her eyes and found him staring at her, intent, as he picked up speed, moving
his body, changing the angle of his hips, as if he were trying to bring her to climax
with him.

And he succeeded, groaning as he released his seed, and they shuddered together in
mutual passion.

His weight was a pleasant heaviness, and she almost pouted when he rolled off. But
he didn’t go far, pulling her up along his body and into the crook of his arm. Sighing
with happiness, she let her hands trail through his chest hair.

And then her stomach growled.

Eyes wide, she looked up at him, and they both laughed.

“Now I know what’s important to you,” he said. “I have to feed every one of your body’s
demands.”

“You fed the important one first,” she said. Then her smile faded, and so did his.

“Tell me I made you happy,” he said softly.

“You did,” she answered with the same quiet reflection. “I think I’m rather shocked
by how much I enjoyed it.”

He cupped her face. “He treated you poorly?”

She was surprised that he’d openly spoken of her protector in their marriage bed—but
then again, he was a man who did what he wanted, often not thinking first.

“No, not that. He was good to me. I . . . made myself forget the enjoyment, I think.
I’ve been so afraid that there was a part of me that was made for such wicked deeds,
that I was . . . bad, because I liked how he made me feel. It worried me that in some
way I was most suited to being a mistress, that I liked it. But you have made me see
that it can be natural and right when two people—” She found herself stumbling then,
adding, “when two people are married.”

If he thought anything of the abrupt change in direction, he didn’t mention it, only
said, “Faith, everything we do and feel and experience together is right. I don’t
want you to think I feel like I’m in some kind of competition with your past. I am
your present, your future, and it’s up to me to make them the best years of your life.”

They kissed again, deeply, seriously, intently, before he led her naked to the table
where she couldn’t help giggling as they fed each other. But she couldn’t forget her
hesitation on “when two people”—had she been about to say “love each other”? That
wasn’t true for them, not yet, maybe not ever. But she was thinking about it more
and more. Maybe she did love him, but deep inside, she was worried that a man who
felt he had to constantly save her—from poverty, from herself—could never respect
her enough to truly love her as his equal.

And she wanted to be loved, perhaps more than she wanted to be saved.

A
dam awoke to the most pleasant morning of his life. His bed was full of the warm softness
of Faith—his wife. Forever she would be at his side.

Stroking her hair as she slept, he thought about their wedding day, and his first
glimpse of her in the fine gown with orange blossoms in her hair and a veil that made
her mysterious. Her eyes had been large when she’d met him at the altar, as if she
thought he planned to change his mind. Marrying her did not seem to make her fully
trust him, but somehow he’d convince her.

He was still relieved and amazed that the day had gone so well. Perhaps he’d secretly
thought the blackguard would somehow interrupt, but no one had. He’d feared it during
the ceremony, though, when he’d seen Timothy Gilpin at the back of the church. He’d
wanted to throw him out, but anyone could be in a public church. And if he threw out
Gilpin, he might have to do the same to Shenstone, who’d glowered at him and his best
men as if Adam had never asked him to stand up with him.

But at least Shenstone had attended, which somehow made Adam feel better.

He liked seeing Faith with Michael, Robert, and their wives. It was amazing that three
friends had returned from war, scarred and grieving and trying to atone, and somehow
managed to find happiness. And the two couples had love, too, which was obvious just
being near them. Would he and Faith someday inspire people with the same emotions?

As if his thoughts disturbed her, she suddenly stirred. He was able to see her dark
lashes fan her cheeks, then slowly rise to meet his, revealing eyes as gorgeous gray
as clouds heralding a storm. He liked to think no day would ever be the same with
her, as if her mood and temper could change with every thought. Right now she still
held herself back, though, as if afraid to reveal herself.

But not the previous night.

He was hard just remembering how she’d met him equally, not a shy bride afraid or
ignorant on her wedding night. It obviously bothered her to be that way, but not him.
He appreciated her lusty qualities, and hoped she would never again think she was
“bad” for enjoying their marriage bed.