Fenella Miller - The Duke's Reform

He waved her back to her chair, his expression tender. “This is my surprise; allow me to be your servant tonight.”

She devoured a substantial portion of the laden tray before she was replete. “I feel so much better. I’m relieved that you joined me in this midnight feast. Can I have some wine now?”

His chuckle made her feel even more relaxed. He was different, his austerity and coldness gone. In the intimacy of her bedchamber he had become the man she’d dreamed about. The sweet smell of spices filled the room as he plunged the poker into the jug. He filled both goblets then handed one to her, raising the other in salute.

“To us, my love. May the rest of our lives be spent in happiness and harmony.”

“To us.” She swallowed and the delicious concoction filled her with warmth and a strange excitement. That odd darkness she’d observed before was apparent in his eyes. Hastily she broke the connection and drank some more mulled wine, and then the vessel was pried from her fingers.

“Enough, Isobel, you’re not used to alcohol. Come and sit with me, there are matters I need to discuss with you.”

Not waiting for her to move he scooped her up and, before she could protest she was resting in his lap. It was pleasant to be held— she had not felt the protection of another’s arms since the nursery. She closed her eyes and didn’t flinch when his arms encircled her.

“Would you do something for me?”

Sleepily she gazed up at him; his smile made something most peculiar curl through her nether regions. “What is it you want, my lord?”

“Firstly, when we are alone, I wish you to use my given name— Alexander. I shall call you Isobel.” This did not seem unreasonable. She nodded and closed her eyes again. “Secondly, sweetheart, allow me to release your hair. Ever since I saw you waiting in the line at your ball I’ve dreamt of running my fingers through it. I insist you must never have it cut short whatever the prevailing fashions might dictate.”

She was too fatigued to protest. She raised her head allowing him access to her braid; if he wished to see it loose then he must release it himself. His fingers were deft. Seconds later she was enveloped in her hair. He gently propelled her forwards and began to draw his fingers through her locks from temples to neck.

Why should such a simple thing be sending shockwaves up and down her spine? An unusual restlessness was building in the very core of her being. Something made her wish to twist in his arms so she could see his face. When she did so she felt the- familiar hardness pressing against her bottom. Instantly her fear returned and she tried to scramble from his lap.

“Darling girl, you must not be scared of me. Whatever you have been told about what takes place between a man and a woman has obviously frightened you. I promise you I would never hurt you. It’s my duty to protect and care for you for the rest of your life.”

His words were soothing— his hands were stroking her, easing out the tension and the fear. She couldn’t tell him why she was afraid, but he would not lie to her His fingers buried themselves in the hair and tilted her head. His lips brushed hers sending spirals of pleasure around her overheated limbs.

“Trust me, darling, let me show you what it is to be loved. There’s nothing to fear. What we’re doing is a natural thing; a man and a woman are meant to be conjoined in this way.”

Her arms encircled his neck. She wished to have his lips pressing on hers, for his hands to continue to work their power, stroking and caressing her shoulders and neck. His mouth engulfed hers. His tongue demanded entry and her lips parted to let him in. She was lost in a place she hadn’t known existed, her body no longer her own.

When he stood and moved smoothly towards the bed, she made no protest. Gently he slid her down his chest until her bare feet were on the carpet. “I can’t make love to you until you’re free of these unnecessary items.”

She was mesmerized— could not have moved even if the house had caught fire. The ribbons at the neck of her garments were untied. He pushed the cotton over her shoulders and she was naked before him. Every inch of her was burning. Her breasts tingled and she wanted something from him but was not sure what this was.

Her legs gave way and she fell backwards onto the sheets. With one swift movement he tore off his bed-robe and stood before her as naked as she. Her eyes widened. She had not expected this. Before she could prevent it her glance dropped to his stomach— what she saw doused her flames as effectively as a bucket of cold water. Her fears returned and she rolled away attempting to hide herself in the covers.

She cringed from him but he gathered her close and kissed her softly. His hand moved from her face, down to her breast and the heat inside her returned. His lips trailed fire from her neck to her stomach. His tongue circled her nipple sending spirals of pleasure pulsing around her. As his mouth turned to give the same attention to her other breast his fingers traced the outline of her stomach and slid between her thighs.

She gasped in shock as they entered her most private place and began a magical dance that left her writhing in pleasure. She pressed against his hand wanting more, something else— she was burning up and only he could quench the fire. He rolled on top of her and gently nudged her legs apart. She forgot her fears as his mouth covered hers.

As he plunged his tongue inside he raised his hips and drove forward. Somehow her body accommodated him. There was a sharp pain and she stiffened. He paused. When she relaxed he continued his thrusting. An exquisite pressure, that was almost pain, centred on the place they were conjoined. With each surge she rose to meet him. She found release as waves of ecstasy engulfed her. She cried out his name— seconds later he groaned and expelled his seed inside her.

Still intimately linked he rolled sideways taking her with him. She couldn’t speak, could scarcely breathe. How could she have been afraid of something so amazing?

“My darling, I hope I didn’t hurt you. It is always so the first time.”

“The small pain was worth it, my love. I had never imagined anything so wonderful could take place between us. I can’t understand why Mama and Aunt Laura didn’t tell me how it would be.”

He laughed and smoothed back her hair. “They did not tell you, sweetheart, because not everyone experiences what you did.”

Surprised and intrigued by his answer she tried to wriggle away from him in order to converse in a more seemly way. His arm around her hips prevented her. “Surely the process is the same for everyone?”

His answer was to kiss her. She responded willingly and forgot all about her question.

When Isobel woke she was alone, the trays had vanished and she might almost have thought she’d imagined the whole thing apart from a delicious ache between her legs which told her she was no longer a girl—but a woman.

Today was her wedding day, she had never been so happy in her whole life. To be marrying the man she loved, who had shown her by his actions last night that he felt the same way, was something to celebrate.

The sound of water being poured into her bath meant she must rise immediately. Where was Mary? Her abigail was usually there with her morning chocolate long before this. Isobel leapt out of bed shocked to see the tell-tale blood stain on the sheets. She had pre-empted her wedding night, her relatives would be scandalized but she didn’t care.

Alexander had come to her because he knew how scared she was. By making love to her last night he’d demonstrated his care for her. She was the luckiest girl in England and in two short hours she would be his wife— nothing could spoil her joy in the day.