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Home. Lacing their gloved hands together, they turned down the aisle and walked toward their future, which promised happiness.
Several hours later…
The large well-padded and heated equipage they had been travelling in for a few hours rumbled to a stop. The steps were knocked down, and Graham assisted Callie from the carriage.
“This is our home?” She asked with a gasp of wonder.
An avenue of beech trees lined the long driveway leading to a magnificent manor with a sweeping arched entrance. The estate grounds were glorious and there was a large lake abutting the property. She could see a few boats bobbing on the water. “I am to be mistress here?”
Graham wrapped his hands around her waist and pressed a kiss at the corner of her neck. “Yes. This is the manor I spent the last few months restoring. I suspected you would fall in love with its charm.”
“Our home is so very beautiful, Graham,” she whispered. Callie had known he had been working hard on restoring a manor that sat just on the outskirts of London town.
“It was originally constructed in the Tudor times.” He turned her and press a kiss to her mouth.
“You are going to scandalize the servants,” she said with a laugh, noting the line of servants at the forecourt.
“Let them be shocked. Best they get used to me kissing you. I thought we could spend this year here. Unless you wish to travel to town for the season after our honeymoon is over.”
“No, this is perfect, my love, thank you.” Callie hadn’t wanted to stay in town much, especially with the few lingering gossips that surrounded their family. She did not want to give those busy bodies her energy, but to direct all her efforts on keeping her family safe and contented.
“This is just one of our country homes, but I was hoping we could make it our main residence. We could spend a week or two here, and then escape to Paris for the first part of our honeymoon and then onto Italy.”
She turned in the cage of his arms. “My home is where you are.”
“We also do not have a name for our newest manor. The previous owner called it Williamsfield Hall in honor of his grandfather. Would you do the honor?”
She grinned, delighted. ?
?It would be my pleasure.”
Soon she was introduced to the line of smartly dressed servants and then was led inside for a tour of the palatial property. More than an hour later, she swallowed her giggles several times at the fierce scowls Graham kept sending the housekeeper who jubilantly showed her room after room. The servants seemed incredibly pleased he was their master, and even happier that he had settled down.
“Mrs. Hays,” Graham said, interrupting the housekeeper with a pained smile. “I fear we must cut the tour short today. My wife and I desperately need to confer.”
She bobbed her head. “I’ll have supper prepared in the blue dining—”
“We’ll take trays in our room a few hours from now.”
The housekeeper’s eyes widened, and Callie blushed. Mrs. Hays dipped into a quick curtsey and then hurried away a smile on her mouth.
Before Callie could say anything, he swept her into his arms. “You rogue,” she said laughing and leaning in to press a soft kiss to his jaw.
He hurried with her down the hallway to stop before a door. Her husband deftly opened the door without dropping her and carried her into the center of the room. The décor was a blur and she could not direct her thought on it when her husband tried to untie his cravat with trembling fingers. Callie smiled to see how much he wanted her.
She reached up onto her toes and smashed her lips to his, kissing him with all the love and happiness in her heart. He stilled, and a sigh slipped from his mouth to hers.
“How I’ve waited for this,” he murmured. “I am in awe that you are now my wife.”
“Is that why you pinched yourself a few times in the carriage,” she teased.
“Notice that did you?”
He lovingly framed her cheeks with his hands and kissed her with gentle thoroughness. They slowly undressed each other, at times fumbling and laughing, and pausing to indulge in long, ravishing kisses.
Once they were naked, he lifted Callie and placed her in the center of the bed. Graham kissed along her cheek, down to her neck, and then the heated wetness of his tongue tormented the tender tips of her nipples until she moaned his name. Callie arched her back, her fingers gripping and twisting the silken sheets below her heated body. Her husband drove her to madness with his diabolical tongue.
His lips dragged against the soft of her belly, firm and velvety, stoking a feverish heat beneath her skin. Then he was there, kissing her sex until she arched her hips off the bed screaming his name. What he was doing…it had to be a sin, but such a glorious sin.
