The fingers of one hand continued to stroke her breast, as his tongue stroked hers. If it hadn’t been for the feel of cooler air, she wouldn’t have known her skirts were rising. Suddenly, his hand cupped her mons, pressing against her, inviting her to press against him. Geoffrey found the nubbin Elizabeth had been told about, and began gently stroking it.
“You are so wet,” he whispered. “Let go. Come for me.”
He slipped his finger into her channel, and suddenly, the tension that had gripped her exploded and her body felt as if waves where crashing over it.
“Elizabeth? Sweetheart?” He held her tightly against his body. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. No. I’m better than fine. Much better. I am excellent.” She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him. “I think the bedcovers are exactly the right color.”
Geoffrey barked a laugh and held her lightly as he pulled her skirts down. After lacing her gown up, they sat quietly while he held her in his lap. Eventually, he said, “We had better be getting back. Would you like to go home?”
“Yes.” After experiencing such exquisite pleasure, she could not imagine staying at the ball. Perhaps he would show her more tomorrow.
Geoffrey wanted nothing more than to take Elizabeth to their apartment and make love to her. If he could have figured out a way to do it, he would have done exactly that. But he could not very well say,“My lady, I have decided to take your niece home with me but will promise to return her before dawn. Or perhaps never.”
Still, there was tomorrow, and he and Elizabeth would have all afternoon.
By the time they re-entered the ballroom and found Lady Bristow, she was ready to depart as well. Claiming a headache, she did not even invite him in for tea when they reached Turley House.
“I do apologize,” her ladyship said. “I rarely have a sick head, but with all the planning for the wedding, I have not rested properly. I know you said as soon as all could be arranged, but have you settled on an actual date?”
“I shall procure the special license in the morning.” Geoff had planned to do that today, but the settlement agreements took all his time. “My parents should arrive the day after that.” He glanced at Elizabeth and mouthed three. She nodded. “In three days, we should be ready.”
“Three days it is then,” Lady Bristow said. “Come along, Elizabeth. You have looked flushed all evening.”
Geoff thought he’d go into whoops at the saucy look his betrothed tossed him. But he assumed a suitably sober mien, and said, “Yes, my dear. You must rest.”
“Yes, dear.” Her words were appropriately docile, but this time the look she gave him was so sultry, he almost dragged her back into the coach. “If you insist.”
“Minx,” he whispered as he kissed her hand. “I have changed my mind. I’ll come for you at eleven-thirty, if you have no objection.” Geoff wanted Elizabeth alone with him for as long as possible.
“I’ll be waiting.” For some reason he could not let her go, and he slid his fingers along hers until there was nothing but air.
* * *
The next morning, Geoff arrived at the Archbishop of Canterbury’s office in Doctors’ Commons when the doors were unlocked at nine.
Earlier, he had found the newest copy of Debrett’s to acquire the date of Elizabeth’s birth and her full name. Elizabeth Catherine Amelia Turley. The name fit her. That her birthday was on the twenty-ninth of June he must remember. It wouldn’t do to forget one’s wife’s birthday. He winced thinking about the time Father had forgotten Mama’s birthday. He had spent months making it up to her.
“Good morning,” he said to the clerk who looked as if he could use another cup of tea. “I would like to arrange a special license.”
The young man pulled out a piece of paper. “May I have your full name and that of the lady?”
“Geoffrey Augustus Charles, Earl of Harrington. My betrothed is Elizabeth Catherine Amelia Turley . . .” He gave the clerk the names of their fathers as well.
“The lady is a minor,” the clerk said. “Do you have the permission of her father or guardian?”
“Yes. Viscount Turley has given his permission and the settlement documents have been signed.” Which was the only reason Geoff had not procured the license yesterday. He’d been surprised and relieved at how generous his father had been. Turley had methodically reviewed the documents Geoff’s father had sent, many times stopping and asking for clarification. In the end, he signed the settlements without asking for any changes.
“If you could return in an hour, I shall have the license prepared for you.”
Geoff glanced around and found four chairs set against a wall. “I’ll wait.” The clerk sighed. He was about ready to give the young man a piece of his mind when he thought better of it. Becoming angry would not do him any good and might make getting the license take even longer. “I do not have any other business in this area, and the wedding is the day after tomorrow. I am taking a post with Sir Charles Stuart and must leave for the Continent immediately after.” Geoff swallowed his gore. “I would appreciate any help you can give me.”
The clerk studied him for a moment and said, “My brother is with the Life Guards. When you get to Belgium—”
“If you will write down his name,” he said, interrupting the man, “I will make a point of looking him up and send you word.” His younger brother, Rob, who was still at Eton, was bound for the army in another year. Geoff thanked the deity that his brother was not going on this campaign.
“Thank you. He does not write as often as he could.” The clerk pulled out another piece of paper and began to write.
