To Wed A Viscount (20 page)

He tugged gently on the nipple, rolling it between his finger and thumb. His lips nipped at the sensitive nape of her neck, and she gasped at the sensations, pushing herself against his chest.

Her thighs opened wider, and his hand naturally fell lower. Rotating the tips of his fingers in gentle circles, Griffin teased the bud of her femininity until ripples of pure sensation shuddered through her.

“Do you really want me?” Griffin whispered in her ear.

“Oh, yes,” Faith confessed with another shudder.

She expected him to roll her onto the bed, press her thighs wide, and sheath himself tightly in her welcoming heat. Instead he shifted, pushing her forward onto the bed on her stomach.

Her eyelids, which had languidly closed in passion, sprang open. Confused, Faith attempted to rise. Griffin slid one hand at her waist and the other against the nape of her neck and held her down.

“Trust me,” he whispered against her ear. “I won't hurt you.”

“I-I don't know what to do,” she stammered, tensing when his fingers slid over the tips of her breasts and down toward the damp curls between her legs.

“Lean forward and hold on tightly to the bedpost,” he commanded hoarsely.

Instead, Faith rose to her feet and turned to stare at her husband. There was just enough candlelight for her to see him clearly. The broad shoulders, tapering waist, lean, rippling muscles, that impressive chest covered with coarse, dark hair.

He was breathing heavily, and she noted his fists were tightly clenched by his side. He was so powerfully male, so extraordinarily exciting, so completely
hers.
Faith's throat constricted. He stood tall and proud, staring back intently at her as if he couldn't look away.

Then he smiled. A sexy, wicked grin that made her heart ache. Sinking her fingers into his thick, dark hair, Faith rose to the tips of her toes and kissed him fully, deeply on the mouth. Then she turned around.

Burying the last of her inhibitions and embarrassment, she did as Griffin instructed, resting her cheek against one of the tall, carved posts. She felt his hands skim lightly over her bare thighs and buttocks, and a rush of fear engulfed her.

“Don't tense up,” Griffin said, bending his head to touch his lips to her ear. He grabbed the tender lobe between his front teeth and bit softly.

Faith gasped and tried to do as he requested. The crisp hair on his chest brushed against her back and she shivered. Griffin's skillful hands began once again to wander, lovingly caressing her torso, from neck to calves. The need built and coiled inside Faith, and she noticed with a sense of triumph that Griffin's breathing had become as ragged as hers.

The momentary trepidation was quickly replaced by sensations of longing and desire as Griffin slowly parted her swollen sex and thrust two fingers inside her.

“See, my love, you are ready for me,” he whispered, placing the silken head of his shaft at her opening.

Faith moaned loudly as she felt him slide into her throbbing body. All the way. He held her hips firmly in place, and she arched back sensuously to receive him.

He withdrew and thrust again, stroking her masterfully. Faith pressed herself back against him, impaling herself on his hardness, instinctively seeking the exquisite gratification that only he could bring.

It was as if a dark, primal fire had ignited all of her senses. And at the center of that exquisite maelstrom was her beloved Griffin. He, and he alone, possessed the power to control this spiraling madness, to satisfy the cravings that had been tormenting her soul for weeks.

Griffin's teeth grazed the back of her neck as he pulled her hips hard against him. With a shuddering moan Faith submitted to this forbidden pleasure, feeling nearly mindless with the pleasure of it, the
rightness
of being filled so completely by him.

Within moments she began to quake as the frenzied sensation brought her to the edge of fulfillment. Spasms broke over and engulfed her entire body as he drove himself into her forcefully.

Faith's last thread of control splintered and broke. The desperate need inside her had been too long ignored, had gone too long unsatisfied. It overtook her now, a spiraling vortex of pleasure hurling her toward paradise.

It made her forget everything that had happened between them. All that mattered now was this moment, this instance of perfect intimacy. She heard Griffin shout loudly, crying out with the strength of his own climax. A single tear slid down her cheek as she felt him throb and pulse inside her, his strong body shuddering with the strength of his release.

Faith slumped forward, her body sated, her mind almost numb to sensation. Though his body had disengaged itself from hers, Griffin still held her tightly. Faith rested her head against the cool wood of the bedpost and pressed her sweat-slick back closer to Griffin's chest. His hand reached out and pulled the damp tendrils of hair off her neck, allowing the night breeze to cool her body.

Faith smiled when he buried his mouth against her now bare neck. The tips of his fingers trailed lightly down the column of her throat.

He shifted, and she felt him put a strong arm under her knees and one under her naked back as he rolled her toward him. With grace and ease, Griffin swung her around and held her tightly against his chest.

Instinctively, she placed her arm around his neck and nuzzled close to the warmth of his solid strength. She rocked gently as he moved around to the opposite side of the massive four-poster bed.

“What are you doing? Where are we going?”

“To my bed,” he whispered, kissing her softly on the forehead. “I give you fair warning, madame. I don't plan on doing much sleeping this night.”

 

 

The dawn crept up stealthily, like a thief stealing away the magic of the night. From the rumpled sheets of his bed Griffin stared out the window and watched it rise, wishing all the while he could hold it back.

It had taken only one night, yet he felt as if his entire world had been turned upside down. The staid, formal marriage he had finally been able to bring himself to accept had been transformed into a sensual fantasy that would delight even the most jaded of men.

The plain, unworldly female he had been deceived into taking for a wife was a lusty, giving woman, unafraid to explore the boundaries of her sensuality. And she trusted him enough to allow him to be her tutor.

She lay in his arms, asleep, her cheek trustingly placed against his heart. Despite his exhaustion, Griffin found sleep unattainable.

Instead, he cuddled his wife. And for some odd reason, he could not seem to still his fingers. They trailed along the edge of Faith's shoulders, following the line of her arm to her elbow and wrist.

This impossible need to touch her, caress her face, rub her arms, trace languid circular patterns on her hips, was an intoxicating mystery that the viscount was not at all eager to understand.

Griffin's hand came to rest at the small of her back. As if subconsciously seeking his attention, Faith sighed and stirred, burying her face deeper into his shoulder.

Griffin felt a dangerous rush of tenderness. He fought it. A second wave hit, and he grudgingly conceded it was a useless fight. Earlier this evening he had tried to resist his beguiling wife. When she'd appeared in the ballroom, all dewy-eyed and excited, he had tried to convince himself he was not attracted to her.

She had smiled and flirted during their waltz, pressing their bodies together in a seemingly innocent manner that caused the heat to rush instantly to various parts of his anatomy. Yet still he had managed to hold on to his control. And a shred of his sanity, by telling himself he was not attracted to her.

When she had boldly entered his bedchamber Griffin had repeated those words in his mind. Initially he had wanted to look away. To ignore the magnificent gift she so freely offered him. To pretend to himself he was not interested in physical satisfaction or an emotional connection with the woman who had tricked him into marriage.

But he had been filled with longing. And hunger. A strong, powerful demanding hunger that would not go away simply because he wished it. So he had allowed himself to be seduced, enjoying every moment of the lustful encounter.

Here in the stillness of the growing dawn Griffin was now forced to admit it had been far more than just a physical joining. Somehow a bond had been forged between them tonight that had nothing to do with marriage or even sex. In a very real way they now belonged to each other.

In all honesty, Griffin did not know what to think about Faith's actions tonight. He wasn't even sure if he approved of them, which was a completely irrational and hypocritical feeling. He had benefitted handsomely from her boldness, had enjoyed most thoroughly her uninhibited response. But he would not fool himself into believing he understood all the reasons that brought her to his room this night.

Griffin could not help but wonder how their relationship would change now that she had spent the night in his bed. It was a large, comfortable bed, but he had gathered Faith against him and could not seem to relinquish his tight hold. This unexpected need startled him.

The viscount shifted slightly. Supporting his head on his propped-up elbow, he stared down at the woman in his arms. She must have sensed his scrutiny. Her eyelids fluttered, then slowly opened.

“Did I fall asleep?”

“Only for a few moments.”

“Oh.” She dipped her chin and adjusted the sheet, pulling it closer around their bodies. “Did you sleep also?”

“No. I could not.” Unable to help himself, Griffin smoothed a lock of hair from her cheek, then pressed a quick kiss on the tip of her nose. “You were snoring too loudly for me to rest.”

“You're lying.” Faith stretched her neck and bestowed a lazy, contented grin upon him. “My snoring is delicate and ladylike, as befits a woman of my noble station.”

“Your snoring would keep many a hardened sailor from getting more than ten minutes of sleep,” he declared in a mocking tone. “I swear, if you were a member of my crew, the men would have threatened mutiny if I did not put you off the ship.”

“You devil!”

Faith reached behind his head and yanked on the pillow. Griffin realized too late her intention. His elbow collapsed and his head fell to the mattress. His legs were effectively tangled with Faith's, allowing him nowhere to turn for escape. The feathery weapon hit him square on the jaw.

She scrambled away from him, took aim, and landed a second blow. Griffin dove for her, grabbing her arm just as Faith was about to land a third one.

Giggling, she fought him for possession of the pillow.

“Drop it,” he commanded with a wicked grin. His words had her tugging harder. “I shall have a very difficult time trying to come up with a plausible explanation for my valet if the bed is filled with feathers.”

“Then you shall have to tell him that you have found a new
ladybird,”
Faith said with a saucy grin. “And she sheds.”

Griffin laughed. Snaking his arm about her waist, he successfully wrestled the pillow away from her. Faith shrieked as he rolled her onto her back and pinned her to the mattress.

In the blink of an eye they were pressed belly to belly, their breaths coming in uneven pants. Faith let out a gratifying sigh and gave him a delighted smirk.

“Why did you marry me?” he asked suddenly.

Faith shut her eyes, and he felt her tense beneath him. The smile gradually faded from her lips. The silence lasted for so long Griffin thought she might have drifted back to sleep.

“I married you because I loved you,” she finally replied quietly, opening her eyes and looking at him intently.

He saw the muscles in her throat work hard as she struggled to swallow.

“Why did you marry me?” she finally managed to ask.

“Because I had no choice,” he replied honestly. Her eyes shuttered closed, and he knew she had mistook his meaning. He had not married her because his honor demanded it. He had married her because a part of him had realized that she was the woman he needed to have in his life. The woman he needed to complete himself.

Griffin moved his hard, muscled thighs and pulled Faith closer, so that nearly every part of her body was touching him. She opened her eyes as he'd intended. Trying to formulate the words that expressed his feelings, he dipped his head toward her. In the predawn darkness he could just make out her soft, sweet features.

“I do not regret loving you,” she declared solemnly, before he had a chance to speak.

The tempo of his breathing quickened. The words Griffin struggled to say were swallowed in her kiss. Faith wrapped her leg around his, pulling his body atop hers.

Griffin threaded his arms around her back and gave himself up to the fiery desire that overtook his senses, deciding there would be time enough to discuss these feelings.

Other, far more pressing matters had just arisen that demanded his complete and undivided attention.

Faith slept embarrassingly late the following morning, awakening in her own bed and having no recollection of how she arrived there. A quick survey of the room confirmed that she was alone, with only the brilliant sunshine flooding her bedchamber for company.

She drew in a deep breath and smiled faintly. The feather pillow her face was snuggled against must have been used by Griffin, for it carried his distinct, unmistakable masculine scent.

She rolled onto her back, bringing the pillow along and hugging it tightly to her chest. Sometime during the early morning hours he must have moved her to her bedchamber. Yet his lingering scent indicated he had spent several hours in this bed with her, by her side. Surely that was a good sign?

Eager to begin the day, Faith summoned her maid. As soon as she was properly dressed, she went downstairs, but found no one about. She was informed by the butler that Harriet and Elizabeth were still abed, as was Lady Meredith, and the viscount had taken his young son riding.

Faith was well contented with her own company and enjoyed a hearty meal in the smaller, more intimate morning room. She was kept busy for most of the afternoon by a variety of household tasks and did not set eyes on any of the family members, or Merry, until teatime when all the women gathered in the drawing room. Griffin had yet to make an appearance.

“I cannot begin to say what a wonderful time I had last night,” Elizabeth said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “You did a brilliant job of organizing the party, Faith. The music, the flowers, the food. Everything was perfect. It was absolutely the most magnificent ball that I have ever attended.”

“ 'Tis also the only ball you have ever attended,” Harriet added with a rueful smile.

Faith shook her head and grinned at her two sisters-in-law. Was it possible for two women to be more dissimilar? Sometimes Faith wondered if they were truly sisters.

“It certainly was not the first ball that I have ever been to and I wholeheartedly concur with Elizabeth's opinion. I found it most enchanting,” Meredith chimed in loyally. “Faith is to be commended for doing an excellent job.”

“I did not do everything on my own,” Faith said modestly. “I had plenty of assistance.”

“Exactly,” Harriet said with a smug tip of her chin.

“Faith is being far too modest,” Meredith insisted. “Everyone knows that as hostess, the bulk of the responsibilities fell to her, and she rose splendidly to the occasion. 'Twas nothing less than a triumph.”

“A triumph?” Harriet clucked her tongue. “You have a very interesting view of life, Lady Meredith, if you consider a simple country ball a triumph.”

“Pray, what would qualify as a triumph in your humble opinion, Miss Sainthill?” Meredith asked with a frosty glare.

Faith jumped in before Harriet had an opportunity to respond. “I'm pleased you had such a lovely time at the party, Elizabeth,” Faith sputtered hastily, hoping to redirect the conversation and avoid a spirited argument between Harriet and Meredith.

It was a small source of comfort knowing that there was one person who had an even more difficult time getting along with Harriet, but the drawing room was hardly the setting to explore those differences.

Faith sent Merry a warning scowl, then lifted the delicate Spode teapot and poured a cup of the steaming brew for Elizabeth. “I could not help but notice that you never lacked for dancing partners. And you were escorted into supper by Squire Jordan. He is a fine-looking young man.”

Elizabeth accepted her tea with a shy blush. “He was a most accommodating gentleman. I appreciated all his efforts to ease my nerves.”

“He is an intelligent man,” Meredith said. “With the good sense to recognize that you are a superior young woman, genuine in heart and spirit.”

Elizabeth lowered her eyes and blushed deeper. “That is very kind of you to say, Lady Meredith.”

“She is merely being truthful,” Harriet interjected. Some of the tightness had left her features. “Triumphantly truthful.”

“Precisely,” Meredith said with a regal nod.

The teacup Faith held rattled unsteadily on its saucer. Had she just heard Harriet agree with Merry? She gazed at the two women in utter surprise.

“There was no question that Elizabeth was the prettiest young woman in attendance last evening,” Faith added quickly, deciding she wanted very much for this sudden spurt of camraderie to continue. “I'm pleased that so many gentlemen took the time to notice that you were not only pleasing to the eye, but possessing of a mind.”

“Not all men find intelligence in a woman a positive attribute,” Harriet commented with a bitter twist of her jaw.

“Your sister is right,” Meredith said. “And you must always remember to avoid those men who show fear of a woman with a mind. By and large they are imbeciles.”

“Or bullies,” Harriet added. She reached for a plate and heaped it generously with an assortment of sandwiches and pastries. “We all could plainly see that you garnered more than your fair share of male attention last night, Elizabeth. Yet you must not let that success swell your head. It isn't difficult to outshine some of the local girls. Mr. Renford's daughters are hardly beauties and the poor Wilding girl bears an unfortunate, though striking resemblance to a hunting hound.”

“Harriet! That is a rather harsh assessment.” Faith lifted the delicate teapot and filled another cup. She passed it to her sister-in-law with a grim expression. “Yet undeniably true.”

Harriet's lips quirked. She finished chewing on her savory morsel, swallowed, then broke into a true smile. “Those poor girls can do nothing to compensate for their lack of looks, but what excuse can Mrs. Renford offer? Did you see her gown? How could a woman of her age and size wear such a shocking shade of red?”

“She resembled an overripened berry that looked ready to split from its skin,” Meredith said with a delighted grin. She delicately bit the edge of a pear tart. “I was afraid to get too close to her, afraid that when she finally burst out of her buttons she would put out someone's eye.”

There was a brief moment of silence. Elizabeth let out a nervous giggle and everyone immediately joined in the laughter.

“My favorite was Mrs. Hormsbee,” Faith said with halting laughter. “With her dark hair wound so tightly into large buns over each of her ears she looked like an old ram.”

“Or a randy goat,” Harriet interjected with a short laugh.

“Oh, please,” Meredith huffed in a mocking tone. “I was forced to listen to the blasted woman for a full twenty minutes, expounding on how her maid's sister, who is employed by the very regal Duchess of Portsmouth, learned how to create this most fashionable hairstyle that was simply all the rage in London.”

“That certainly sounds like Mrs. Hormsbee,” Harriet said. “She has always been most impressed by anything that is happening in town, following the supposed fashion no matter how silly.”

“Then she deserves to look like a fool,” Meredith proclaimed. “Still, after seeing how ridiculous she looked last evening, one has to wonder. Does the woman even own a mirror?”

That sardonic comment brought fresh peals of laughter from all of them.

Faith looked at each of them, enjoying mightily the sounds of merriment. “We are fortunate indeed to be so perfect, are we not ladies?”

Meredith bit her bottom lip and tried to assume a somber expression. “Faith is right. 'Tis wrong of us to indulge in such merriment at the expense of others. And ... yet ...”

“It is so deliciously wicked,” Elizabeth finished quietly, then blushed.

Harriet primly folded her hands in her lap. “Wait until you get to London and begin meeting members of true society, Elizabeth. Your tongue will never get a rest.”

“Nor will your body.” Meredith sighed and gave her head a tiny shake. “It is an endless whirl of activities. Dances, balls, routs, assemblies, opera parties, dinner parties, rides in the park, drives in the park, walks in the park, afternoon calls, fittings at the dressmaker for a wardrobe to match each occasion properly.”

“Don't worry, Elizabeth,” Faith said. “We shall make certain that you are dressed in something more flattering than Mrs. Renford.”

“All those gowns,” Meredith went on with a sweeping gesture of her hand. “Such a ridiculous waste of funds. Still, it cannot possibly be avoided. A fashionable woman needs an enormous wardrobe in order to keep up with the never-ending chain of social engagements. I daresay you'll discover that for yourself soon enough when you have your own coming-out. Next season?”

Elizabeth's eyes were as round as the small plate she held in her hand. “Nothing has been decided. At least that I know about. Can we afford such an elaborate season?” Elizabeth asked, turning toward her sister.

Harriet bristled and rearranged the skirt of her gown. “Do not fret over the particulars, Elizabeth. Griffin and I will make certain the proper arrangements are made. How else will you find a suitable husband?”

“I see.” Elizabeth bit her lip. She did not look at all excited at the prospect that would have sent most girls into giddy rapture.

“There is the local society,” Faith added hastily, not liking the expression of distress on Elizabeth's face. The younger girl looked frightened to death. “I believe last night firmly illustrated that there are many fine gentlemen living right here in Harrowby.”

“Elizabeth is the daughter of a viscount,” Harriet proclaimed in a waspish superior tone that grated fully on the nerves. “She can certainly do better than a local squire.”

“A person of her sunny nature and delicate beauty deserves to marry for love,” Faith insisted with a wistful sigh. “Be he a nobleman or a commoner.”

“Marry for love?” Harriet set down her teacup and pursed her lips. “As you did?”

“Harriet!” Elizabeth shouted hastily, throwing Faith an apologetic glance. “It certainly isn't our place to speculate on the reasons for Faith and Griffin's marriage.”

Faith set down her plate with a clatter. Blinking rapidly she stared directly at Harriet. “I want more for Elizabeth when she starts out her marriage than I had. As I want more for you, Harriet.”

Harriet lifted her head. “That is very generous of you.” Her eyes looked searchingly into Faith's. “I spoke without thinking. I did not mean to offend.”

Somehow Faith managed a careless shrug. “I took no offense at your remarks,” Faith said slowly. Harriet's words had cut deep, but her apology seemed sincere. “I'm sure my sudden marriage to Griffin appears strange to many people. But it is a private matter between your brother and myself that I will discuss with no one, not even family members.”

For a few awkward moments there was total silence. Elizabeth shuffled the toe of her slipper and gazed at her foot, Meredith deliberately avoided Faith's eyes, and Harriet sipped unenthusiastically at her drink.

“More tea?” Faith lifted the pot and glanced briefly from one woman to the next.

It took only a moment to top off each cup that was thrust eagerly forward, since they were all nearly full.

“There is no need to fret about your first season, Elizabeth. I'm sure there is someone wonderful in London just waiting to fall in love with you.” Meredith winked at the young girl. “Who knows? He might even be a duke.”

“All those grand people.” Elizabeth smiled hesitantly. “I fear I shall make a cake of myself.”

“They are no different from any other sort of people.” Meredith wrinkled her brow. “Truth be told, some are far worse than many of the good, honest folk you have known. Far too many members of the ton are all puffed up with their own sense of value and importance. It can become most tiresome.”

“An astute observation, Lady Meredith,” Harriet said with quiet dignity. “That sort of false pretension can be very wearing. But I'm sure Elizabeth shall be able to adjust. With the proper guidance.”

Elizabeth's gown rustled as she shifted in her chair. “Considering the amount of money that the family will be forced to expend on my coming-out season, I shall feel honor bound to do my best to catch a husband.”

“You must not worry about that,” Faith insisted.

“Besides, not all women need to marry,” Meredith said forcefully.

“Not marry? What else would I do?” Elizabeth frowned. “I cannot imagine my life as a governess or a companion to some elderly dowager. And if I cannot support myself, then I would be forced to live with my relations.” She cast an apologetic eye toward Harriet and Faith. “In very short order I would become a drudge.”

Faith laughed. “I cannot possibly imagine that happening.”

“I am sure you will marry a fine gentleman. Yet no matter what your future, you will always have a home with me,” Harriet stated magnanimously. “Though I must agree with Faith. I cannot imagine it would ever come to that.”

“You will break more than your share of young and older men's hearts,” Faith predicted with an encouraging smile.

“Just take care not to get your own heart bruised in the process,” Harriet advised.

“We must not scare the poor girl,” Meredith admonished. “There really is more to a woman's life than marriage. Or being a governess or a companion or a drudge.” She smiled broadly. “I plan on someday setting up my own establishment so that I may live the way I please. Answering to no one. Neither husband nor employer.”

“You will scandalize everyone in society,” Harriet remarked, but there was a faint trace of admiration in her tone.

Meredith stiffened noticeably. “I can assure you that I will take great care to ensure that my behavior will continue to remain above reproach. As it always has.”