The Duchess (25 page)

“We will see you at Eunice's,” Caroline, Lady Walworth, said before she left with her husband in tow.

“George said you were the most beautiful and generous girl in all of England,” Melinda Hunter said shyly. Then she grew bolder, continuing, “and I know why, Allegra.” Lady Hunter kissed her sister-in-law. “Thank you. Without your kindness and generosity I should not be so happy. I wish you the same joy with the duke as I have had with his brother.”

Allegra flushed. “Families are supposed to help one another,” she said in reply.

“I echo my wife's thanks,” George Hunter said quietly. Then he kissed his brother's bride, and Lord and Lady Hunter were gone.

“What did you do?” Sirena wanted to know.

“Another time, dear heart,” Allegra told her softly.

Sirena nodded. “Very well, I shall contain my curiosity.” Then with a wave, she and her husband were off.

“Well, my dear,” Lord Morgan said, “I shall bid you farewell for now. Be a good wife to your husband.” He kissed her on the forehead.

“Yes, Papa,” Allegra responded dutifully.

“God bless you, my darling child,” Lady Morgan said. Then she departed with her husband. There was nothing left she needed to say to her stepdaughter. It had all, thank goodness, been said.

They stood alone in the round foyer. Allegra wasn't certain what was to happen next. It was much too early to retire, she thought, as the tall clock struck half after two o'clock. The servants were bustling back and forth clearing away the remnants of the wedding feast.

“Would you like to ride?” the duke suddenly asked her.

“In the rain?” Allegra thought her voice sounded rather hollow.

“It is only drizzling right now,” he answered.

“Perhaps a game of chess,” she suggested.

“Ahh,” he agreed. “The very thing.”

“I shall have it set up in the family salon,” Allegra said. “Perkins,” she called to the passing footman. “Set up the game table in the family drawing room, and bring the chess pieces, please.”

As the footman hurried off, the duke said to his new wife, “You looked … look,” he corrected himself, “very beautiful today, my dear. Every inch a Duchess of Sedgwick, if I may say so.”

“You may,” she replied, “and if I may return the compliment, sir, you are most handsome in that satin suit.”

He actually flushed with her praise, then took her by
the hand. “Come along, Allegra. We have not played chess in some weeks, and I am anxious to see if you have improved.”

“You are anxious to see if I have gotten any worse,” she mocked him with a smile. “Prepare yourself for a drubbing, my lord. I have been playing with Papa these last few days, and he is a brilliant player.”

Their family drawing room was decorated in pale blue, buff, and cream color. It held a mixture of old oak furniture and new maple pieces from London. Perkins set up the game table between the two wing chairs by the fireplace. When Allegra had seated herself he handed her the ebony and ivory box banded in silver that held the playing pieces.

She opened the box. “With your permission, sir, I shall take the white pieces, and give you the ebony.”

He nodded in agreement, and set up the board so they might begin their play. For several hours the duke and his new duchess vied with each other over the chessboard. They played several games, and were, Quinton Hunter had to admit to himself, equally matched. He won two games and she won two. Outside the storm continued to rage about them. A footman came into the room to make certain the fire was still burning. He trimmed the lamp and candlewicks, even as a fifth game ended in a draw. It had grown dark outside.

“I have set up a supper in the dining room, my lord,” Crofts said as he entered the drawing room. The clock on the mantel struck six o'clock.

“Gracious!” Allegra exclaimed. “How the time has flown.”

There was capon, ham, and a venison pie on the sideboard in the dining room along with a bowl of green beans, fresh bread, butter, and cheese. When they had
eaten all they could, Crofts appeared with a dish of fresh pineapple from the greenhouse and some sugar wafers. Allegra loved the tart-sweet fruit and was almost childlike in her greediness for it.

The duke could not help but smile, but when she had finished he said quietly, “You will want to go upstairs now, my dear. I shall join you in an hour or so.” He raised his wine glass and sipped slowly at the fragrant wine.

Allegra paled for a brief moment, but then she arose, curtsied, and without a word walked sedately from the dining room. Her heart had begun to beat furiously.
Soon!
Soon she was going to know what all the fuss was about. Did she really want to know? Did she have a choice? She was Quinton Hunter's wife, and subject to his will by English law, and by God. She ran lightly up the staircase to her apartment where she found Honor awaiting her with a scented tub.

“Good evening, Your Grace,” her servant said with a small smile, and a quick curtsey. “Let me take your things, and get you ready for bed.” Honor was behaving as if it were any other night. Swiftly and efficiently, she helped her mistress undress herself, and then helped her into the tub. Allegra had already pinned her hair up as she always did. Then Honor bustled about the apartment putting garments away, or setting them aside to take to the laundress as Allegra washed herself. Finally she helped the new duchess from her tub.

Allegra sat down upon her dressing table bench as Honor dried between each of her toes. “Do you remember,” she said, “when I was a little girl how you told me my toes would fall off if I didn't dry between them? I cannot tell you how long I believed you.”

“No proper lady would have wet toes,” Honor said.
“At least that's what me ma always said.” She paused a moment then told her young mistress, “I'm leaving a basin of warm water and some cloths by the fire.”

“What on earth for?” Allegra asked her maid.

“You'll understand later,” Honor said, getting up quickly. “Now, come and get into your night garb, m'lady.” She held out a white silk garment that she slipped over Allegra's head, carefully tying a single white ribbon at the neckline. “There, now into bed with you.”

Allegra climbed into the large bed, sniffing delightedly at the lavender scent coming from the sheets. Even the large pillows propped up behind her were scented.

Honor curtsied. “Good night, Your Grace,” she said, and hurriedly left the bedchamber, closing the door firmly behind her. She had not, Allegra noted, gone to her own room.

The Duchess of Sedgwick lay in her bed watching the play of the firelight on the walls. Outside her heavily draped windows she could hear the roar of the storm with its howling winds and beating rains. It had been a wonderful day, but now she had to face reality, except she wasn't really certain what that reality was. All her guests had been so happy today. Happy for her, for Quinton, especially happy with one another. Sirena loved her Ocky. Caroline and Adrian Walworth seemed radiant. As for Eunice and Marcus, they had scarcely been able to take their eyes off each other. Her father and Aunt Mama four months after their union were still acting like April and May. Why even Lady Bellingham and her husband seemed to evince tart affection for each other.

“But I don't believe in love,” Allegra muttered to herself. “These are but aberrations.” Neither a man nor a woman can be faithful to their mate except in rare circumstances. And for the one who loves, the pain of betrayal
must be horrific. Papa and Aunt Mama, as well as the Bellinghams, are old. Perhaps when one is old, love, true love, enters his life. As for Sirena, Caroline, and Eunice, we will see what happens to them five years from now, she thought to herself. It was better that she and the duke had a more sensible arrangement.

The door connecting their two bedchambers opened, and the duke stepped through. He was wearing a white linen nightshirt which he immediately removed. Then he climbed into bed with her.

“Oh, my!”
Allegra gasped.

“Let me take that charming garment off, my dear,” he told her, and before she could protest, he swiftly whisked it over her head, and deposited the nightgown by the side of the bed. “There, now we are equals.”

Allegra leapt from the bed, snatching up the discarded garment to clutch before her. “I do not think I can do this,” she said nervously.

“Do what?” he asked, lying back amid the pillows. Damnation, she was utterly adorable. He had to be patient even though his male member was already evincing interest in her delectable form.

“Con … con … oh, damnit, Quinton, you know what I mean,” Allegra almost shouted at him.

“Consummate?”
he inquired helpfully.

“Yes! Consummate! I can't do it.” Now she
was
shouting.

“Get back into bed, Allegra. No one is going to do anything to harm you,” he told her calmly. “It is natural that a virgin would be frightened of her first experience, but I promise you it will be all right. Come,” he held out his hand to her, “you are going to catch an ague.”

She was cold. What on earth had made her behave in such a childish manner? “Do we have to … right away?” she asked him.

“Not right away, my dear,” he assured her, “but I promise that you will soon want to do it, Allegra.” The duke smiled. He knew he loved her. It was unlikely she would ever love him, but that didn't matter right now.

She dropped the nightgown she had been holding, and slowly climbed into the bed with him. Almost at once he enfolded her in his arms. To her mortification she trembled. She couldn't meet his gaze.

The silken softness of her flesh sent a fierce bolt of desire through him. He forced it back. She needed to be taken gently, not with brute force. He ran his fingers across her lips. “You are most kissable, my dear,” he told her, and his mouth met hers.

Ohh, God! She could feel the hardness of his masculine body. It was deliciously exciting. His mouth was warm and enticing against hers. She felt herself melting in his embrace. I have the heart of a whore just like my mother, she thought to herself with shock, but she couldn't stop herself from kissing him back. He was her husband, she reasoned. They were supposed to cohabit like this.

Their lips parted. “Look at me, Allegra,” he said to her.

“I can't,” she whispered back. “I feel shy. I have never before found myself in bed with a naked man.”

He laughed softly. “No, I expect you haven't, my dear, but here we are. Husband and wife.
And it is our wedding night.”

Her violet eyes finally looked into his silvery gray ones. There was something there she didn't understand at all. A look that totally confused her. But at least he was not slavering over her body like some fierce bestial animal.

“Would you like to see what I look like?” he asked her, and before she might refuse he threw back the down coverlet. Then he lay back.

Her curiosity overwhelmed her, and Allegra stared unabashedly at his long lean body. His shoulders and chest were broad, but she had known that, for even clothed she could see he was a big man. He was lightly furred upon his chest. Her eyes followed the delicate line of dark fur as it ran down his flat belly to a thick tangle of dark black curls between his muscled thighs. Allegra swallowed hard, but she was unable to turn away from her first sight of his manhood. “My brother was not so big,” she remarked frankly. “I used to spy when he and his friends compared themselves.”

“Ahh,” he said, his unspoken question answered.

“Your feet are big,” she noted.

“Yes,” he answered her.

“But not wide. And your arms and legs are hairy. James Lucian was not hairy at all as I remember it,” Allegra told her husband.

“Each man has slight differences,” he advised her, “even as women do.”

“I suppose you would like to see me,” Allegra responded, and threw back the coverlet on her side of the bed. “I hope I compare favorably with the other women you have known, Quinton.”

“Very favorably,”
he assured her. Then he bent down, and licked at her nipple.

“Oh my!”
she said again. His touch was thrilling. His dark head against her milky flesh intoxicating. Unable to help herself she reached out with a hand and touched his head, threading her fingers lightly through the black hair.
“Ohhhh!”
His mouth had closed over the nipple, and he suckled upon her.

“Ohhhh good, or ohhhh bad?” he asked amused, raising his head, and piercing her with his silvery gaze.

“Good,” she whispered, blushing, barely able to look at him.

“You are being very brave, Allegra,” he told her with a chuckle.

“You are being very kind, I think,” she replied.

“You have lovely breasts, my dear. They are like small round peaches, summer-ripe and bursting with sweetness. I will want to continue to adore them, Allegra. Will you let me?”

“Yes,” she said. “I like your touch.”

“There will come a moment when I become overwhelmed with your loveliness, and shall not ask your permission further, my dear. You must not be fearful, however, for I shall not harm you,” the duke told her.

“Will you put your manhood inside of me?” she asked him.

“Yes.”

“Will it hurt? Sirena said it hurts the first time,” Allegra confided in him, although her cheeks were now fiery hot.

“Yes,” he answered her. “It will hurt the first time, but how much depends on how tightly your virginity is lodged, my dear. I will be as gentle as I can be, I promise.”

Allegra swallowed hard. “Very well then, sir, let us soldier on now. I should be rid of this troublesome virginity so you may have your pleasure of me. I am told men enjoy this fucking very much.”

Now it was Quinton Hunter who swallowed hard. Actually he wanted to laugh. Most young women, he assumed, would have been reticent to speak, would have been shyly reluctant, and maybe even frightened on their wedding night. Allegra had passed through those stages quite quickly. He didn't think he had ever heard a proper lady use the term
fucking.
Nor mention in an offhanded manner that she had heard men enjoyed it. “They do,” he agreed, “but women also enjoy
fucking as well, my dear. They can be as enthusiastic as any gentleman,” the duke assured his new wife.