Lisette (21 page)

Lisette felt some tears dampen her cheeks.
However, they were happy tears, and when her husband took her
inside, he kissed them away, and said he was glad her father had
given her to him, and left her in his care. He told her he would
make her happy, and then he made slow, sweet, love to her on
sun-warmed sheets.

They dozed in the afternoon, ate and took a
long walk in the gardens. Held in her husband’s embrace, she felt
his sigh of contentment.

“This is what loving you feels like; the
scent of it, the breath, the warmth. A bit of the wild and untamed,
amid the sweetest fire.”

She kissed his chest through the linen shirt
and breathed his scent. “And you, your taste, your touch—opens all
my senses. In deepest most intimate hours of night, when I feel
your strength surround me, when you take me, I go to some secret
heaven that only you can create. I feel like you were made for me,
and I you.”

He leaned back as did she, and their eyes
held.

It was all there for her to see, the love,
the passion, the life and the future.

For Elisha, too, who still felt he could
drown in those beautiful aqua eyes. Surrounded by the beautiful
flowers and birds, caressed by the softest breeze, their hearts
were completely open to each other. It was a span when time stood
still and they each knew they had found everything they ever wanted
in life.

He touched her face, his raven hair mussed
and ruffled in the scented air. “I want to bathe you now.”

“I’d enjoy that.”

His eyes were already dark with hungers. He
stood and carried her up to their rooms.

The bathing took two hours. Dressed only in
his trousers at first, he shed them before too long. Her body was
patted dry before Elisha bathed her again—with his mouth and
tongue, learning what pleased her, giving her leave to tell him
what felt better. Then he took her with rough passion, summoning
cries as her nails sank into his flesh.

He took and gave to her all night, whispering
at one point that they were both glutton, but it felt the same for
both of them, that need to be connected as much as possible. They
fell asleep in a tangle on the chaise, where he had taken her the
last time. His dark body on the bottom, and Lisette curled atop
him, his arms around her under the light sheet.

Chapter Nine

Six years later.

Wimberly Estates…

They were gathered to celebrate Jude opening
his law practice, and Drew’s success with a new book—this different
from his volumes on mental health, and the books he had written
about his father. This one was a scandalously shocking novel that
society pretended to shun but devoured in secret. He had a mistress
whom he openly lived with in a section of London where
intellectuals and artists were addressed.

They all liked Margie Delvers. She was a
beautiful and intelligent woman, whose father made his fortune in
wool, but later suffered a terrible mental breakdown. Margie took
care of her mother and six siblings, and had met Drew after reading
his first published works.

Of course, the Wimberly’s loved it that their
close family friend set society on its ear with such a salacious
read, and by living his life as he chose. He and Margie were
frequent guests of all the family—and stayed with Lisette and
Marston a month every winter. Lisette found someone with who she
could laugh and discuss all sorts of things. They often rode and
talked for hours. Juliette and Haven liked her too, so that
whenever they were all together, the men were always curious as to
what had them laughing or whispering—but the ladies never would
tell. Of course, it was mostly talk of husbands and lovers, and
sharing confidences.

Another reason they were gathered together
this time was that her sisters would have their debut this coming
season—and thus it was decided they would descend upon London en
force, so to speak, to show the ton they were still very much the
Wimberly’s—and wholly supportive of the gels.

Lisette was returning from a ride that she,
Haven, and Juliette, had taken after lunch. She spied their
husbands and her brothers returning from fishing.

Dismounting, she handed her horse over to the
lad and stood watching Elisha walk across the lawns with their two
sons. A few of the footmen walked with the men, carrying fishing
poles and what not.

Elisha’s lawn shirt was open and out, and his
trousers were still rolled to his strong claves. His hair had grown
a bit over winter, and as he had not visited the London barber yet,
thus it layered in a muss on his handsome head and neck.

Her son’s Eli and Drew were six and four,
tall and lanky, warm of coloring, although Eli’s hair was the
lighter. All of them had children now, Deme and Haven, 2 girls and
a son, Juliette and Monty, 3 boys. They were all very close, as the
men were—and their humor sometimes reflected that of their parents.
They were witty, mischievous and lively. They were also
competitive, protective, and trying at times, as their
personalities showed a strength that would make for challenges in
their future.

Watching Marston as a father was one of the
joys in Lisette’s life. He was loving but strong. The lads
worshipped him in the way boys will a father like that. Knowing his
own dark childhood, she would weep at times, when he closed his
eyes hugging one of the lads. It made her hold him a bit tighter
too, when he needed it.

Walking a bit behind the other women, who
were going to meet their husbands, she glanced at the courtyard
where Pamela’s long black hair caught the sun, from where she stood
in a lovely summer gown. Her hair was still worn below her waist.
Her eyes were watching Jude—who did indeed grow taller than all the
brothers.

Though younger than Pamela, it became obvious
last Christmas that the two were trying to hide their love for each
other. Jude, in his charming and yet understated way, had from the
beginning, drawn Pamela out. With patience, he’d become very close
to her. Pamela was strongly devoted to women’s rights and their
causes, and once she started studying and lecturing, the passion
and conviction in her voice held everyone spellbound. Through that
interest, and Jude’s knowledge of law, they had found a common and
deep bond.

Lisette suspected they were already lovers.
She knew it was only a matter of time before Jude spoke to Marston
about making Pamela his wife. Nothing would make Marston happier.
She loved that discreet and yet strong brother and she could tell
by the way Pam was regarding him, the woman was a bit in awe of the
love too.

Her sons dashed from Elisha’s side, heading
for the buffet tables that were set up—making Lisette shake her
head, because they were always eating—and never seemed to fill up
their bellies.

She stopped just under the oak, looking up at
the branches and remembering another time when Marston stood under
it. Now she was in trousers, boots and a white shirt, her hair down
and windblown.

When Lisette lowered her gaze, this time, it
was her husband walking toward her.

She could feel his gaze going over her; feel
him like a touch, with each step that brought him closer.

Elisha stopped before her. She smelled his
sun-warmed skin, and admired his body, even his bare feet, before
dragging her gaze up his chest, and finally to his eyes.

“Have you eaten?”

“Not yet.” She smiled softly, letting her
gaze scan his face. “I was waiting for you. How was the
fishing?”

“Good. Our sons managed to fall in the water
three or four times.”

They shared a grin at that ruse, because they
always made an excuse to get in the lake and swim.

Seeing her eyes go over his torso again,
Marston murmured, “Perhaps we should go and clean up before we
eat.”

She read his expression and nodded. “Likely
we should.”

He held out his hand. She took it.

Before they left, Elisha murmured, “That was
some ride you gave me at dawn.”

“I gathered you enjoyed it.”

That quirk of the lips appeared. He husked,
“I thought about how to express my pleasure in it most of the
afternoon.”

“Did you?” Her breath became shallow, her
body more than eager for his touch.

It was not until they had walked back and
were going up the stairs that he murmured, “It is a good thing this
is a noisy household, because I intend to have you moaning quite
loud in a few moments.”

In the bedroom, he closed the door, locked
it, and advanced toward her. “I’m going to strip you down to skin.”
He began doing so, and being quite aggressive, which always set
Lisette trembling with anticipation. Once nude and barefoot, he
grasped her hair at the nape and kissed her deep, explicit and
hard, before his hand found her sex.

“Ah. I see you like that.”

“You know I do.” God. He never failed to set
fire to her bones like this.

He moved his hand and led her to the chaise,
and in the next hour used his fingers and mouth to pleasure her so
wildly she did more than moan—she was so lost in her climax at the
end, that she yelled his name quite loudly.

Before they washed to dress, and join the
others, he gave her a better ride than she had on horseback
earlier. Circling his hips, then slamming hard, he held her hands
above her head, his silver eyes searing into hers, watching her
burn, and burn in the passion.

“I’m going to…”

“Yes.” He grit, and leaned back to ease a
hand between their bodies. “We both are.”

They came, their groans throaty and deep,
bodies swelling, milking, and loving each other. Later, they held
each other on that chaise, his foot on the floor so that she could
lie on her side with his arm around her.

“Each times feels like the first, even though
we know what pleasures each other.”

She could feel him smiling above her head.
“Ummm. However—I would not call either of us, predictable.”

“True.” He murmured, “But it is a game we
both enjoy making up the rules to.”

She chuckled and sat up. “Come, we have to
join the others.”

They bathed and dressed, and then shared a
kiss, before joining the others.

They had their plates full and wine, and were
on a blanket watching the youngsters romp and play on the lawns.
Lisette mused that the six years had flown by, because every one of
them had been wonderful. Whenever she thought that, she came close
to losing him, to not going after him and answering those
questions, her heart shook.

Marston stood when they finished and pulled
her up. “Come; let’s give Monty and Juliette a challenge at
tennis.”

They did, playing that and many other games,
at times looking at each other with the sounds of laughter and
family around, sharing a private message of how they content they
were with their family and friends, how lucky they considered
themselves to have found each other.

The duke was watching them all as he reached
for his wife’s hand, and she turned to meet his gaze.

“My son sent me a letter today. He should
like to meet everyone.”

She nodded. Knowing of which son he spoke.
“Of course, I was wondering what took him so long. You have been
going and seeing him every few months.”

He grinned wryly. “Yes. He told me you had
written his mother and that you and she were friends?”

“Yes. I have always kept in touch with her.
She is not well now. Her husband is taking her abroad.”

He brought her hand to his lips and then they
turned, watching everyone again. With a gruff ache in his voice, he
confessed, “I fell in love with you on sight, you know. There
hasn’t been a moment I did not love you more than my own
breath.”

“I know.” The duchess rasped. “I loved you
too. I was—afraid of it.”

Their hands tightened. He murmured,
“Sometimes I think that Marston looks at Lisette the way I look at
you—as if he is afraid he will wake up and it will all be a
dream.”

“And there are times, she looks at him—as I
do you—overjoyed, to have discovered where her heart belongs, and
excited to see what the next day brings.”

Their fingers tightened a moment, and then
relaxed.

When the sun was setting, Elisha had been
with the men enjoying a cheroot and then went in search afterwards
for Lisette. He saw her sitting under the oak with her arm around
their sons, her eyes looking up through the branches as she spun a
story that had them grinning.

His chest hurt, so full of love did the sight
fill him.

When she looked down, spied him, he mouthed
the words, I love you.

She finished the story, and then sent the
boys to join the others, rising and reaching her husband to say, “I
feel it, every time you look at me.”

Elisha gathered her in his arms. They stood
in the lowering of day, his cheek resting on her hair, her arms
around his waist and her cheek against his chest.

* * * *

“What do you think about that story?” Eli
asked his brother as they turned to view their parents.

Drew snorted, “I think it sounds just like
the one papa tells, only in that one, I believe mother is the rain
and sun who tends the thorn bush that everyone leaves alone, until
it begins to bloom with flowers.”

Eli nodded, “And in hers, he’s the oak tree,
and she’s the wind it tries to catch.”

They laughed and before going in, Drew said,
“Silly. That is what grownups are. Just silly.”

Eli let him run off before he muttered, “Oh,
I don’t know. I kind of like it that they see each other that way.
I think we’re bloody fortunate they know so much about love.”

THE END