The Duke's Daughter (21 page)

Reaching up, she ran her thumb tentatively along the day-old stubble on his chin. He really was a handsome devil and all she had to do was claim him as her own. Tomorrow and all its problems could wait. Avery would not.

‘I do trust you; it’s me that I doubt,’ she said.

He breathed hot and heavy into her ear, while his fingers resumed their soft dance up and down on her hip. He stopped at her knee, gently pushing her legs open.

She bit her lip, willing herself to remain calm. When Avery’s hand settled on the soft hair at the entrance to her womanhood, he stopped.

The moment of truth had come. He would not proceed without her express permission. No matter how the dance had begun, the next steps were as old as time.

‘Yes,’ she said. Her decisive words dampened down her fears.

Avery slipped a long finger inside her heat and began to stroke. Her body immediately tensed at such an overwhelming intrusion. Never before had someone touched her in this way.

‘We need to relax you more,’ he murmured.

She nodded. ‘How?’

What Avery had in mind became quickly apparent as he nudged her breast into his mouth and began to suckle hard on her nipple. Lucy felt her world shift on its axis.

Oh my sweet . . .

He brushed her nipple against his teeth and she groaned. Her breath grew ragged with every stab of this delightful pain. Never had she thought such pleasure possible. Avery’s finger now moved freely in her moistened heat. Long, luxurious strokes. A second finger joined the first, giving her the added sensation of being stretched. Her hips rocked back and forth with every stroke.

‘Is that good?’ he said.

Lucy, lying back in Avery’s arms, found herself beyond speech. She touched his arm and squeezed.
Don’t stop, whatever you do, don’t stop
, her fingers implored.

His thumb found the nub at the top of her entrance and slowly circled. With each rotation, her heartbeat increased. How on earth was she going to survive such sweet torture?

Of one thing she was certain: if he stopped she would go mad.

‘Open your eyes, Lucy,’ Avery said.

When she did, she saw his face was a picture of rapture. Giving her pleasure was increasing his own ardour.

‘Touch me,’ he said.

She reached out and touched his chest once more. When he let out a snort of frustration, Lucy quickly realised he was asking for
quid pro quo
. Virgin that she still was, now was not the time to play innocent with his needs.

He groaned as she took him firmly in hand. She stroked the length of his manhood, putting her study of the
Kama Sutra
to good use. When he closed his eyes on a second groan, she knew she had the rhythm just right.

He slowed his strokes and gently removed his fingers from her body. He untangled his legs from hers and rose over her.

‘Look at me. I want to see your face when I truly make you my wife,’ he commanded.

His hard erection parted the lips of her entrance and pressed in. She tensed, waiting for the oft-reported spear of pain, but it never came. Only a slight stretch and Avery was fully seated within her body. They were finally one.

His lips met hers in a deep kiss. Tongues thrust together in time, soon joined in rhythm by their hips. Avery rode her with deep penetrating thrusts. Lucy exulted in the sensation of feeling the length of him caressing her. Pleasure coursed through her veins.

‘Give me your hands,’ he ordered.

Taking both her hands, he forced her arms above her head, leaving her completely open to him. With the rocking motion of their joined bodies, her breasts bobbed about.

Avery chuckled. ‘I think these need to be brought under my command.’

He sat back on his haunches and draped Lucy’s legs over his hips. Thrusting once more deep into her, he took both breasts under his hands and gave each nipple a hard squeeze.

When Lucy cried out, he did it a second time. Leaning forward, he took her right nipple in his mouth and gave it a gentle nip. She whimpered as the pain heightened her sexual arousal.

The tempo of their union grew to a frenzy. Avery penetrated Lucy harder and faster with every stroke. His ravishing of her breasts took her to the limit of her endurance. She sobbed under his masterful lovemaking.

When she finally climaxed, it was with a sudden explosion of light in her brain. Pleasure crashed through her core, leaving her gasping for air. Avery slowed his thrusts but kept his hips angled. His hard erection continued to rub against her throbbing nub as her heartbeat slowed and she returned to the now.

Avery released Lucy’s breasts from their torture. Looking up, she saw a satisfied smile on his lips. His virgin wife had been successfully bedded. Since she was now completely his, she accepted that he could afford to gloat just a little.

He withdrew from her body, the glint of desire in his eyes telling her they were far from done.

‘Roll onto your side,’ he said.

She moved to her left side, and Avery swung her right leg over his hip. When he entered her for a second time, she immediately understood the advantage the position gave him. With her moist entrance more open at this angle, he was able to achieve a deeper penetration than before.

Skilful hands gripped her hips as he drove into her willing body. At first it was long and deep strokes, which rocked the bed. Then the length and pace of his claiming of her changed. He roared and, gripping her hips tightly, frantically increased his thrusts.

‘No other man will know you. No other man will . . .’

Avery’s climax cut short his words. He screwed his eyes shut as his sweat-drenched head dropped toward his chest.

Lucy lay her hand over his where it still gripped her hip.

He lifted his head and looked into her eyes.

‘Are you all right?’

She nodded. Tomorrow morning might be a different story. More than likely there would be bruises and twinges in various private places. At this moment she felt the bone-deep pleasure which came from her body having been well loved by her husband. Added to that was the knowledge that Avery had reached his own sexual climax with her. Lucy was more than all right.

He withdrew from her body and rolled over. They lay in the bed and faced one another. ‘Thank you,’ she said. He brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face and kissed her lips. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her in close.

‘You coped a lot better than I thought you might. I’m glad you trusted me. And yourself,’ he replied.

They slept on and off for most of the afternoon, while the storm continued to rage unabated outside.

When they eventually rose, they shared the task of gutting and cleaning the fish before baking it in the oven. Lucy stepped into the kitchen, carrying a bottle of her father’s best wine from the cellar. She stood for a moment, admiring Avery’s kitchen skills as he took the fish out of the oven and spooned some oil and herbs over it.

‘You’re a skilled hand at cooking fish. I take it you did a lot of fishing when you were a young boy,’ she said.

He shook his head. ‘Not as much as I would have liked. I learnt to properly land a fish when I served in the army. It was either that or starve.’

‘But you must have received rations when you were out in the field?’ she replied.

‘If you call a dry piece of beef washed down with bitter, feeble coffee food fit for a soldier, then yes, we were occasionally fed by His Majesty’s army. The rest of the time, we were left to fend for ourselves.’ Avery took down some plates and assorted cutlery from a nearby shelf and set them out on the kitchen table. Lucy opened the bottle of wine and poured them both a glass. As she handed Avery a glass, they exchanged a grin.

When the fish was finally ready, Lucy took the sharp cook’s knife and cut the fish into two portions. She served them up on two plates and carried them to the table. She and Avery exchanged a shy smile as she took a seat. Later, when the time felt right, she would propose that they stay on at the Key for the rest of the week. Any supplies they needed could come up from the castle.

‘So which is mine?’ he asked, nodding at the plates.

Lucy stabbed her fork into the biggest piece of fish and laughed.

‘The smaller one,’ she said as she stuffed a sizable chunk into her mouth.

The glittering ballrooms of London were many hundreds of miles away; no one was going to critique her table manners in the wilds of Scotland. After the events of the afternoon, she was in a playful mood.

Avery sat back in the chair and studied her.

‘You really are a conundrum, Lucy. When first I met you, I thought you were the epitome of an upper-class miss.’

‘As well as a cunning wench?’ she teased.

He frowned.

‘I don’t know. Just when I think I can put a label on you, you do something which makes me question everything I thought I knew. For instance, I would never have picked you for someone who went fishing in a Highland lake.

She chuckled.

‘And caught a magnificent wild brown trout.’

Their gazes met momentarily. Lucy felt the familiar flush of red burn on her cheeks and she quickly looked down at her plate. Would there ever be a day when she would feel completely comfortable in Avery’s presence?

‘I’m proud of you, Lucy.’

She nodded her head, keeping her eyes fixed on her meal. He reached over and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

One step at a time.

Avery woke late the next morning. The pale light from the Scottish autumn morning filtered through the rough glass of the window and weakly lit the bedroom.

He rolled over and looked up at the ceiling. The stone roof had been painted a pale cream colour, one of the few concessions to modern decoration in the rustic interior.

Out in the main room, he could hear Lucy moving quietly about the room. He wondered how late it had been when she finally slept.

A second bout of lovemaking late the previous night had drawn him into a deep and restful slumber. With Lucy curled up, her back pressed against his chest, he had fallen asleep to the sound of his wife’s soft breathing.

His wife. She really was that now. Lucy Fox was wedded and had most certainly been bedded.

He sat up in bed and stared at the slightly ajar bedroom door, listening. Lucy had got under his skin last night and awoken something within. Making love to her had felt the most natural thing he had ever done. She held nothing of herself back from him. A generous and willing lover.

In that aspect of their relationship he hoped they would find perfection. As to the rest, he prayed Lucy had not set her sights too high. Love was something he couldn’t see himself ever feeling for anyone. Having never known it in his life, there was every chance he would not recognise it even if it did happen.

He moved off the edge of the bed and crossed to the window. The storm had finally calmed to a steady, light drizzle in the early hours of the morning. Lying in the warmth of the blankets, his arm draped over Lucy’s hip, he had thanked his luck that he was not out in such a terrible tempest.

‘You’ve gone soft, Fox,’ he chided himself.

Lucy began to sing. Avery immediately recognised it from the night of the bonfire at the castle. The staff had sung it over and over until late into the night. Lucy had explained it was a Robert Burns song, one which many considered the true Scottish national anthem.

Avery shook his head. What a charming early-morning tune for his bride to be singing. He had spent a lifetime in the army listening to battle-hardened veterans singing sweet love ballads first thing most days. Soldiers in the field had little appetite for songs of battle.

The door of the lodge opened and a cold wind blew in, slamming the bedroom door shut. Lucy’s cheerful tune disappeared outside.

Outside he could see Lucy, rugged up in her fur-trimmed cloak and hat, slowly making her way toward the rocky pass which led out of the Key. In her hand she held a small bag.

She was leaving.

‘What the devil are you doing?’ Avery bellowed at the glass.

In a panicked rush, he quickly rummaged around, searching for his trousers and shirt. He attempted to pull on his boots, swearing when he couldn’t stuff his feet into them fast enough. Finally, he gave up and ran barefoot from the room.

He raced to the front door, stopping only for an instant to quickly grab hold of his coat. He pulled the door of the hunting lodge open and ran outside.

‘Lucy!’ he roared, fear rising with every step. The sharp stones dug painfully into his feet, but he forced himself on.

At the sound of her name, she stopped and turned. The sheepish look on her face said it all. She had hoped to be long gone from the lodge before he woke.

‘I thought you were still asleep,’ she replied, as he reached her side.

He took hold of her arms and gripped them tightly while his gaze frantically searched her face. ‘Where are you going? You can’t leave! Not now. I won’t let you!’

Realisation dawned on her face and she shyly smiled. ‘After what happened last night, do you really think I would leave?’ she replied.

Relief flooded his mind. He loosened his grip on her arms. He pulled her roughly into his embrace, holding her tightly. ‘Of course not, I’m sorry. I was still half-asleep when you left the lodge. What are you doing out here?’
You should be in our bed. In my arms.
He felt a sting of surprising emotion as he uttered the words. He had bedded plenty of other girls over the years; why should it feel any different with Lucy?
Because you know it should.

‘The storm last night was a particularly fierce one. This area is susceptible to landslides. I wanted to check the road.’

He looked at the bag. She opened it.

‘Thought I should get rid of the fish remains before they begin to smell,’ she said.

She turned, ready to continue her journey, but Avery reached out and took her by the arm. He had been feeling an ever-growing sense of protectiveness toward her from the time they left London.

‘Not without me you won’t,’ he replied.

The smile she gave him when she nodded her agreement said it all. He had spoken to her as a concerned husband, and she, the dutiful wife, would obey. He wondered how often Lucy would let him instruct her without a word of disagreement. How much of her behaviour was because of the events of the previous night?

When would wilful, independent Lucy reappear?

A short while later, properly dressed, they set out from the lodge. A half mile or so into the pass, they began to see the damage the storm had wrought. Rocks had tumbled down the side of the pass and in places blocked the road.

‘Looks like we might have to walk part of the way back to the castle when we leave,’ Lucy noted.

They rounded a bend and stopped. Avery let out a long, low whistle. A whole section of the pass had collapsed during the storm. The road was completely impassable.

His mind switched immediately into military mode. How much food did they have at the lodge? How long would it take for a crew from the village to clear the road? How would Lucy cope if they were stranded for more than a few days?

‘Well, that’s a bit of an inconvenience,’ Lucy said, with a shrug of her shoulders.

Inconvenience?

He gave his wife a quizzical stare. She didn’t seem the least put out by the fact that they were now stuck in the Key.

He cleared his throat. There was obviously something she wasn’t telling him.

‘Lucy. Is there another way out of the Key?’ Making a conscious decision to stay at the hunting lodge while knowing they could leave at any time was one thing; being stranded here with dwindling food supplies was an entirely different matter.

‘Not really. Well, not a road, anyway; nothing that a cart could travel across. We will have to make our way back down the mountain through the fens. There is a small gap in the Key on the far side of the lake. Close to where I was fishing yesterday. We will go home that way, but not today. The storm has not completely blown itself out,’ she replied.

‘No?’

She pointed to the bank of dark clouds which still sat over the top of the mountain. The very last thing they needed was to find themselves caught out in the wild when the storm returned.

‘These storms can last for several days. Everyone in the village and at the castle will be bunkered down indoors until it clears. No one will venture out on the roads; it’s too dangerous. We shall just have to find ways to occupy our time until we can get back down the mountain.’

Whether subconsciously or by design, Lucy licked her lips. Avery felt himself go hard. Suddenly the prospect of being stuck here wasn’t so bad. The opportunity for them to spend time alone together, knowing that no one would be arriving suddenly from the castle, had clearly crossed her mind.

‘Minx,’ he said, pulling her hard against him.

‘Wife,’ she gently teased.

Pulling her hat from her head, he speared his fingers through her hair. She wrapped her arms around his waist as their lips met in a heated caress. He groaned, exulting in the knowledge that she had accepted last night was just the beginning of their life together.

It started to rain heavily once more. ‘Damn,’ she muttered as they drew apart.

Hand in hand, they quickly raced back to the dry comfort of the lodge. There was nothing romantic about being caught out in the driving rain for a second time.

‘By my reckoning we have another week’s worth of food and drink.’

Avery was standing at the top of the cellar stairs, slowly lowering the hatch door.

‘Some salted fish, ham, and pickled pork is the extent of our meat.’

Lucy painted a serious look on her face, placed her hands on her hips and marched over to his side. ‘What about wine? I can go outside and catch some more fresh fish, but I refuse to stay a day in this place if there is no wine!’

When Avery snorted, she chuckled. He reached out and pulled her into his embrace, roughly kissing her on the mouth. Soft and sensual kisses she enjoyed, but when her husband handled her with vigour, Lucy felt her inner wickedness surface.

Thank God I didn’t let you go.

She playfully protested at his attentions, all the while resting her hand on his hip and pulling him ever closer. The kiss deepened, and in her newfound wantonness, she prayed he would take her back to bed. She would never grow tired of the heady sensation of his body loving hers. Every time she had reached climax in the days since they had become lovers, Avery had claimed her mouth in a soul-searing kiss.

She thrilled to the sight of watching his passion-etched face as he thrust deep into her body, grinding his hips against hers as he came to completion. Joy filled her heart, knowing she pleased him in such an elemental way.

Most telling of all was the knowledge burning deep inside that their sexual encounters affected Avery as much as they did her. If she could at least bind him to her with her body, it would be more than she had hoped for on their wedding day. More than she had dared to dream during those long nights lying on the other side of the bolster from him. Watching as he slept. Yearning for his touch.

Slowly, he released his hold. The kiss ended.

She mewed with disappointment. The look of satisfaction on Avery’s face gave her pause. He kissed her tenderly on the lips once more.

‘Lucy. About the wine, my dear. Remember we agreed we were going to ration it? No one is coming up from the valley to bring us more. You and I have been exceeding our rations for the past three nights. The only wine left is some red. There are several bottles of some Highland brew, but other than that we shall be drinking coffee from now on.’

He raised his eyebrows. The question was not so much about the lack of good wine, and they both knew it. It was more about making the journey back over the dangerous fens to Strathmore Castle and facing Lucy’s family.

And their now-combined but still uncertain future together.

Her mother would not be worried about her safety; landslides regularly happened in the mountains. And she was with Avery, a former soldier who the duchess knew would not knowingly allow Lucy to come to harm.

‘Yes,’ she sighed. The fens would have to be tackled.

Memories of the last time she crossed the boggy, cold, and dark marshes flashed into her mind. She puffed out her cheeks. Never had she thought she’d be leading anyone across that desolate and threatening landscape.

‘You said you had crossed them before, so you know the way back to the castle?’ Avery asked.

Lucy suspected he had not meant to question her ability to see them safely home, but the look of concern he failed to stifle still hurt. Trust a soldier to want to know that the way ahead was clear of danger.

‘Of course,’ she lied.

The last time she had made the perilous journey, her father had led the way. Alex and David had been carrying lanterns and several residents of the village had accompanied them. She had been little more than a walking passenger while the duke tested the ability of his two eldest sons to read directions from the summer night sky. If only she had paid better attention that day, rather than complaining about her sore feet.

Come on, Lucy, you know you can do this. If you leave at first light, you just have to keep the mountain to the rear of your left shoulder and head for the travellers’ hut. As long as you reach that by nightfall, making east for the road should be a simple enough endeavour.

‘I have done the trek once before,’ she added. In her head both Alex and David railed against her lying to Avery. His life as well as hers would be at risk. She had no right to let him believe it would be an easy journey. After everything which had transpired between them during the past days, she owed him the truth. After that they would have to work things out between them.

‘It’s not a gentle walk in the park. The fens can be a treacherous place. People have been known to set out across them and to never be heard from again.’

Avery nodded.

‘I was wondering when you were going to tell me the truth of the matter. Your brother Stephen told me how terrible they were and Alex agreed,’ he replied.

‘Oh.’

‘There is nothing to be ashamed of in admitting risk and danger, Lucy. The most foolhardy soldier is the one who does not accept that he may die in battle. The heroes of legend have become that because they understood that they were mere mortals. No one is invincible,’ he counselled.

‘So you know that I am relying on memory and gut instinct to preserve our lives? No one is going to suddenly appear through the pass and come to rescue us. It could be blocked for many months, perhaps into next spring. We have to make our own way down the mountain,’ she replied.

‘Lucy. I have known that we faced an arduous task from the morning we saw the pass was blocked. In the years I spent in the mountains of Portugal we faced many similar situations. Ice and snow often lay between us and survival.’

Avery raised Lucy’s hand to his lips, tenderly kissing each fingertip. When he got to the finger on which her wedding band shone, he stopped. She recalled the moment she had put the ring back on her hand, determined to salvage her marriage. Not long after, she and Avery had made love for the first time. She vowed never to take the ring off again.

‘We will not fail,’ he said, the depth of his conviction taking hold of her heart.