The Seduction of Lady Phoebe (30 page)

His hands roamed possessively over her silky skin until she shuddered and her contractions brought him to completion.

He’d wanted her, loved her for so long; he’d thought his feelings couldn’t grow any more profound. Yet each time they came together, each time she gave herself to him, his love deepened and his need to protect her became more acute.

He’d kill Travenor or anyone else who tried to hurt her.

Marcus was the only one in the breakfast room when Phoebe entered. He was already discussing his breakfast. He laughed at the amount of food she took from the dishes on the sideboard.

Phoebe glanced at her plate with a frown. “I don’t know why it is that I am so hungry. It was the same yesterday.”

He couldn’t keep a wolfish smile from his face. “My love, have you really no idea what has caused you to have such an appetite?”

She blushed rosily. “Do you really think it’s that?”

Happy to be the cause of her appetite, he said, “You’d better eat quickly if no one is to notice. I promise you, your sisters will very soon guess the reason.”

She picked up a roll and eyed it as if she’d throw it at him. “Marcus, you wretch.”

Seeing the look in her eye, he moved quickly to take her in his arms. Removing the roll, he bent his head to capture her lips.

Phoebe returned his kisses greedily. “What have you done to me?”

“Nothing more than what you’ve done to me.” He drew her back to his lips.

She pulled back. “Will this craving lessen?”

Marcus groaned. “I hope not.”

The door opened and the twins walked into the room. Phoebe and Marcus sprang apart a second too late. Hermione was the first to see them, followed closely by Hester. Phoebe glanced at her sisters.

Marcus stood silent, holding her hand. The twins looked at Phoebe’s plate and moved their gazes to Phoebe, then him, and finally each other before shrugging in unison. Hermione said, “The special license was an excellent idea.”

Both Marcus and Phoebe blushed. Geoffrey, Amabel, Fairport, and Caldecott entered the breakfast room shortly thereafter.

Hester sipped her tea. “We will need to begin the guest list.” She tapped the table. “Marcus, can you give us a list of your friends you would like to invite? I think my aunt is discussing your parents’ list with Lady Dunwood. If we can make a start now, there will not be so much to do after we return to town.”

Hester’s gaze shifted to Phoebe. “When is Aunt Ester’s ball? She’s decided to make it in honor of your engagement.”

“In three days’ time. All the plans have been put into effect already. I have a gown I shall need to have fitted.”

Hermione swallowed the toast she’d been munching. “My dear, I am more than happy to shop with you. You will have so much to do.”

Phoebe spread jam on a roll. “I’d very much like that. I have my bride clothes to purchase, and other things as well.”

“Oh,
definitely
other things,” Hermione said.

“Have you decided if you will take a wedding trip?” Hester asked.

Marcus glanced at Phoebe for the first time since the others had arrived. He would love to take her off somewhere for a few weeks, but with Arthur dying, did he dare go?

Phoebe bit her lip. “We haven’t even discussed it. Marcus, what do you think? Do you have a preference?
Should
we go anywhere?”

Amabel reached her hand out to him. “I think you should. Marcus, I know you are worried about Arthur, but once you take up your duties, both of you will be very busy. You with the estate, Phoebe with the children and the household, and both of you with politics. And
you
, my dear sister”—Amabel looked at Phoebe meaningfully—“will not be in the same position as
I
was. No one will offer to leave you alone with your husband.”

Amabel had a point. Marcus needed to think of Phoebe now. “Amabel’s right. Once we’re at Charteries, you will become, in effect, mother to my nieces and will have to pick up the reins of the household.”

Needing to touch Phoebe, he rubbed her shoulders. “And, if I am not mistaken, you have some plans you’d like to implement on the estates. If we are going to take a wedding trip, we should do it immediately after the wedding.”

“Maybe several weeks in Paris?” Phoebe suggested. “Shopping there will lessen the amount I must do before we leave.”

Some of the tension, he wasn’t aware he’d been holding, drained from him. “Paris would be perfect, my love.” They wouldn’t be too far away in the event of Arthur’s passing, and the distance might nullify Travenor as an immediate threat.

That night, Marcus took Phoebe into his arms after she entered his chamber.

He’d borrowed candelabras from the rooms next to him and his chamber was ablaze with light.

“Marcus, what . . .”

He caressed her. “It may be our last night together until we’re married. I want to see you and I want you to see me.”

Phoebe frowned. “Will we really have to wait until the wedding?”

He kissed her forehead, pleased that she didn’t want to leave him any more than he wanted to leave her. “If we can contrive it, no. But if we cannot . . .”

She reached up to kiss him. “Then let’s not waste the time we have.”

She had worn only a day gown. The buttons were quickly undone. He pushed it down over her hips, letting it fall to the floor with a soft swoosh. It amazed Marcus that she’d never been embarrassed to be naked with him.

She touched his chest, then her hands moved down slowly over his taut stomach to his staff. Marcus groaned and stood perfectly still, allowing her to explore. The light was his idea. How could he have been so stupid as to forget her curiosity? He couldn’t hurry her now, but he might be able to guide her. Taking her hand, he showed her how to stroke him, then decided he needed to distract her quickly.

He nibbled her neck and caressed her where she liked it the most, purposefully setting sensual fires burning in her body. Kissing her deeply, he picked her up, carried her to the bed, and tossed her onto it.

Phoebe bounced and laughed. “Come here, my love.”

He slid in next to her and tilted her head back before moving his lips down her throat, sucking lightly, reveling in the heat rising from her skin. She sighed and ran her palms over his back and into his hair. His hands roamed as his mouth licked and teased until he reached her breasts. Paying homage to them, he moved lower over her soft stomach, stopping at the curls of her apex.

Phoebe gasped for breath as Marcus’s hands and lips pushed her desire higher than ever before. Her breasts ached. He soothed them. The throbbing between her legs made her push into him. She wanted the relief that only he could give, and she moaned as he placed light kisses and nibbles down her body. When his mouth covered her mons she stilled, but only for a moment. His tongue softly licking made her writhe. Phoebe grabbed his hair and urged him on. She arched up as his tongue entered. Her tension rose, and she reached for the intense pleasure that would come.

“Marcus, please, now.”

Tremor upon tremor coursed through her as he drove into her, filling her. Crying out, she wrapped her legs around him, opening herself to him, to take, to conquer, as she flew apart into a million pieces; with a few more strokes, he spilled his seed into her womb.

Marcus collapsed, breathing heavily. She held onto him tightly. A tear slid down her cheek.

He touched the tear with the tip of his finger. “Phoebe, my love, what is it?”

“I don’t know, I—I feel so close to you. As if my heart would rip apart if anything happened to you.”

He gently turned her head and kissed her. “Nothing is going to happen to me. Not while I have your love.”

They slept until dawn. Not wanting to part, she snuggled close to him, warm in his arms until they heard the servants moving around the house.

Phoebe reached her chamber without being seen and fell back asleep, thinking of ways she could be with Marcus after they returned to London.

She awoke to her maid bustling about the room packing.

Sunlight assailed Phoebe’s eye as she peeped out of the bed hangings. “What time is it?”

Rose pulled back the bed hangings. “Time for you to be up. I’ve never known you to sleep this late. It must be all the excitement.”

“Yes. Everything is exciting!” Famished, Phoebe rose quickly, to wash her face and dress.

Hester grinned as Phoebe entered the breakfast room and went directly to the dishes set out on the sideboard. “It is hungry work, is it not?”

Phoebe opened her mouth then shut it, preparing for a lecture. There were times being the youngest sister was not very much fun.

“Don’t worry, my dear,” Hester said. “Your secret is safe with me. Do you think that John and I waited? Not a bit of it.”

Smiling, Phoebe filled her plate and took a seat. “You don’t eat that much now.”

“Children have an effect.” Hester’s brows drew together in thought. “And I suppose one just gets used to it. Don’t expect to be able to continue this way once you arrive in Town.”

Phoebe chewed and swallowed. “Well, I know it will be much more difficult.”

Hester frowned. “There will be many more eyes upon you. What if you were to be caught?”

Phoebe sighed. “I would have much preferred to be married immediately. At the rate this is going, my wedding is going to be as much of a circus as yours and Hermione’s were.”

Hester glanced at Phoebe with an exasperated expression. “You cannot marry the heir to a marquisate and not expect to have a large wedding. Also you must consider that he is the biggest catch on the Marriage Mart this year, and you have been the same for years now.”

Phoebe took a cup of tea, and they sat in silence for a few minutes. Anna had said the same thing about Marcus. Phoebe realized that she must have been the only one in the
ton
who had not thought of him as a “catch.”

Her sister leaned over to hug Phoebe. “I’ve never seen you look so happy, so
radiant
. I am so very pleased you finally found the love you were meant to have.”

Tears glistened in Hester’s eyes. “You’ve no idea how worried Hermione and I have been that you would not know that kind of love. The idea that you would grow into an unmarried aunt . . . well”—Hester sniffed and pulled out her handkerchief—“it doesn’t bear thinking of. He
is
everything you want, isn’t he?”

“Yes, and you’re going to make me cry as well.” Phoebe chuckled wetly, searching for her own handkerchief. “Marcus is everything I want. Hester, you have no idea how very much the same are our beliefs, our desires. I had almost given up hope that I would find a man who could entice me to marry.” She added wryly, “And I never thought it would be him.”

Her sister nodded. “That was a bit of a surprise.”

Phoebe took a bite of egg on her fork. “We’ve not had our first argument yet.”

Hester raised her cup and laughed. “Arguments are only an excuse to make up. You’ll have them as we all do. Well, maybe not Geoffrey, but really Amabel is so different from us.”

Phoebe nodded. “He claims that he lives under the cat’s paw, but he told me all men in love with their wives do.”

Her sister smiled knowingly. “Geoffrey has finally become wise.”

Phoebe glanced up just as Marcus came through the door. His eyes immediately focused on her as she flushed with heat. Had it been only a couple of hours since they’d been with each other last? It seemed like forever. There had to be a way they could be alone in London. Nine days was an eternity.

Thankful the weather would be good for their trip back to London, Marcus handed Phoebe into his curricle where she took the ribbons.

John ambled up to them. “Well, Marcus, how does it feel being driven by a female?”

Ignoring the double entendre, Marcus smiled proudly at Phoebe. “It’s an experience I would not forego. I’ve rarely known a more excellent whip. My only wish is that she’d allow me to tool her phaeton.”

Edwin raised a brow. “Consider yourself lucky.
I’m
surprised she’s allowing you to handle her blacks.”

Geoffrey shook his head sadly. “Ah, but Marcus, you didn’t see her in her early days learning to drive.”

Hermione came up behind him. “Geoff, I remember her taking the shine out of you when she was only twelve.”

He glowered, but his lips twitched. “It’s a hard thing to have sisters who remember all one’s mistakes and don’t hesitate to tell one.”

The others continued teasing him until Henry strolled out of the house. “Let us all be off. You can talk once we are back in Town. We have a busy week ahead of us.”

Marcus climbed onto the curricle, a moment before Sam let go of the blacks’ heads and jumped on the back of the curricle as Phoebe set off at a smart pace.

Phoebe and Marcus arrived at St. Eth House well in advance of Lord and Lady St. Eth. Phoebe gave orders to have the curricle pulled around to Dunwood House.

“Come.” Phoebe held out her hand. “We have some time to ourselves.”

“But, my love, François is not yet here.” Marcus smiled wolfishly, speculating whether St. Eth would still require a footman to be posted in the breakfast room.

She peeked coquettishly through her long lashes. “We don’t always need François.”