Bertrice Small - The Duchess

"Indeed?" He was very much surprised.

"Yes!" she told him. "I love Hunter's Lair, and the Great Hall is the perfect place for such an event. Especially now that it is clean. And I would have only our family and friends. And we would give everyone on the estate the day off, and set up a feast for them on the lawns. We should come from the hall where our feast was being held, and greet our tenants and workers. It would be wonderful!" Then her face fell. "But I know it cannot be. We must be married at St. George's, and have a proper wedding breakfast afterward with the king and the queen as our guests, and Prinny and Mr. Brummell."

"No," he replied. "We shall be wed in exactly the manner you have said, my dear." Then he kissed her hand, and their eyes met again. He felt as if something had cracked within his chest, and yet he was fine.

"Ohh, Quinton," she said softly, "could we really be married in such a fashion? Then Sirena could come, for her home is not so far away, is it? That would make me so very happy." Her violet eyes were shining with pleasure.

"Would it?" he answered her softly, and then he leaned forward, and kissed her lips gently. "I am coming to realize, Allegra," he told her, "that even if you are strong-willed, opinionated, and far too outspoken, that I am beginning to want to see you happy." Then he added, "There is nothing in our most practical arrangement that precludes our being happy, is there, my dear?" His silver eyes twinkled at her.

"I do not believe so, my lord," she replied, her voice a little breathless. Her heart was hammering rather quickly, and she could feel that her cheeks were flushed.

"Excellent," he said. Then he tucked her hand deeper into his.

"Are you happy with me?" she ventured boldly. "Despite my faults? I do not think I can change, Quinton. I am not certain I want to change. Weak women are always taken advantage of to their detriment."

"I do not believe you shall ever be taken advantage of, my dear Allegra," he assured her with a chuckle. All his doubts, and dark mood of the past few days had vanished suddenly. He wondered, briefly, why he now felt he could conquer the world.

"How far is Pickford?" she asked him. "I should like to go and visit my cousin now that she is home from her wedding trip."

"Just half an hour's drive away, my dear," he told her. Wedding trip! Egad! How could he have forgotten to make plans for a wedding trip? "Tell me, Allegra," he began. "Where do you think we should go after our wedding?"

"Must we go anywhere?" she asked.

"Perhaps not right away, if you do not want it, but next spring I should like to take you to Italy. We might go to Rome, or Venice, Allegra, if it would please you, my dear."

"My mother lives in Italy. I should not like to meet her."

"The contessa does not reside in Venice. We shall go to Venice, Allegra, and you shall not meet her. It is a beautiful city, my dear, built on the edge of the sea, and the streets are not paved, but are water, and carriages are not used but rather charming little boats called gondolas ferry people from place to place."

"How interesting," she cried. "Yes. Let us go to Venice next spring. I would like that."

Allegra, despite her little imperfections of character, was going to be an excellent Duchess of Sedgwick. She only needed his guidance, and he was after all fourteen years her senior. He would share his experience with her. Her desire to be married at Hunter's Lair had surprised him, but it had also pleased him very much.

He began to spend more time with her. They rode together in the morning, and then went about their own pursuits, sometimes meeting again at luncheon, and sometimes not until dinner. But he made every effort now to spend the evening with her. They walked in the gardens, and her ability at kissing improved daily. She had proficient skills with the pianoforte, and sang most prettily. One evening he sat next to her on the bench, turning the pages of her music. He found the back of her neck and the two unruly dark curls of her hair, damp with the heat of a summer's night, irresistible. His arms slipped about her narrow waist, and he kissed her nape.

Allegra ceased playing, turning her head to his. His mouth fused itself with hers in a hot kiss. Something had changed, she realized suddenly, as his hand began to caress her breasts. She froze. What was she to do? Was anything required of her but her compliance? Unable to help herself she began to tremble, and a small cry escaped her lips. She found herself slumping against his arm, unable to catch her breath for a moment.

"Damnit, I have forgotten how innocent you truly are, my dear," he apologized to her.

Allegra swallowed hard. "Will this be part of our cohabitation?" she asked in all seriousness. She could, to her acute embarrassment, feel her nipples pushing against the silk fabric of her gown's tight bodice. Her heart was thumping wildly. She hadn't found his touch at all repellent, but rather exciting. And she was filled with questions. Did she get to touch him? And where?

"It is called love play, my dear," he told her. "You are so charming, Allegra, I could not help myself. I think it is past time we came to know one another better, don't you? Our wedding is just over a month away now."

"I found it exciting," she said suddenly.

"What?"

"When you touched me," she went on. "I found it exciting when you caressed my breasts, Quinton."

"Did you?" He was encouraged and a bit shocked by her candidness.

"Am I allowed to touch you?" she asked naively.

"Not yet," he gulped, surprised.

"When? And where?" she persisted.

"Eventually, and I shall instruct you," he answered her, and he felt his member tingling. My God, the little witch was arousing him!

"I cannot help but be curious," Allegra told him. "Once I said I had not yet considered the carnal side of our marriage, but you are right. Our wedding day is fast approaching, Quinton. I find my curiosity increasing. We have been so proper when we are together that it makes me giggle when I think what people must imagine has been between us this summer. Not that I care, mind you. My conscience is quite clear. Yours should certainly be as clear, unless, of course, you have some bit of fluff hidden away from me. I have certainly heard no gossip regarding such a matter."

"Nor should you have if I indeed had a mistress, which I do not," he responded stiffly. There was that appalling outspokenness again.

"Oh, dear! I have offended you again," Allegra said.

Quinton Hunter laughed. He couldn't help it. Allegra could be so disingenuous, and at the damndest times. What was he going to do with her? For lack of any other answer he kissed her again. His arms wrapped themselves about her, his lips pressing firmly against her lips until the softness beneath his parted slightly. He ran his tongue along those sweet lips, causing her to gasp softly as her eyes flew open, and she stared at him astounded. "You taste of peaches," he said.

"I… I had some at supper," she responded. "Why did you do that? Lick my lips?"

"Because it gave me pleasure to do so, and it will give you pleasure also now that you are no longer surprised," he explained. "There will come a time when we are in our marriage bed that I will want to taste every bit of you. Even the most secret parts," he finished.

Heat suffused her body at his words. "Are you attempting to seduce me, Quinton?" she asked honestly.

"Do you want me to?" he countered. His silver eyes were half-closed.

"Perhaps. I am not certain yet if I am brave enough," she answered him. His eyebrows were so black, and so thick.