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Scarcely ten minutes later, the guests began arriving, and her attention was taken entirely by trying to remember names and respond graciously to repeated congratulations that half the time she suspected were entirely false. It seemed like an eternity passed before Bradstone signaled that the last of the guests had arrived, and she and Arthur were able to direct everyone to the formal dining room.
The decadent smell of hot chocolate wafting from the cups, along with the scents of fresh fruit and bread only recently removed from the oven were enough to catch her attention before it could wander back into dangerous territory. She had been far too nervous to eat her usual light meal that morning, and it was a wonder the entire dining room could not hear her stomach rumbling.
The meal was delicious, the sweet richness of the chocolate melting on her tongue, the bread crusty on the outside and soft, like biting into a cloud, on the inside. The meats were tender, almost falling apart in her mouth, and the fruit—strawberries and oranges and other such delights, was sweet, tart and tangy by turns as the juice slid across her tongue.
The ices, when they arrived, were decadent confections that filled her mouth with cool, creamy smoothness and a delicate array of flavors, the perfect counterpoint to the heavy richness of the wedding cake that she and Arthur cut and served alongside them.
Afterward, Arthur’s friend David led a round of toasts ‘to a long and happy union.’ Annabelle, Scarlett, Samuel, even her father and the Dowager joined in, wishing them long life, prosperity, and joy in their new life as a wedded couple.
Finally, the toasts were over, and she and Arthur were permitted to rise from the table to make their way to the carriage that would take them to the Bedford country estate. It was an exercise in self-restraint not to sigh with relief at the thought of being alone, finally.
Thank heavens that Abigail said she would manage the process of bidding the guests farewell.
A brief stop to say a final farewell to Lydia and promise they would return, a quick hug for Scarlett, her mother, her aunt, and her sisters, and then Arthur was handing her up into the carriage and following her in. The driver urged the horses into motion.
Nora stuck her head out of the carriage and tossed the bouquet in the general direction of the largest group of unmarried women, laughing with delight when Scarlett caught it with a look of surprise. Then, with a final wave and a chorus of cheers, they were off.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX
Arthur heaved a sigh of relief as the carriage left the London Bedford estate behind. He took a moment to relax against the cushions of the carriage before smirking at his new wife. “Alone at last.”
Her answering smile made his blood heat in his veins. “Almost, my dear duke.”
In the privacy of their carriage, he made no effort to stop the growling tone that entered his voice. “Alone enough.” He reached out and caught her around the waist, bringing her closer.
He had meant to bring her close enough for a kiss, but Nora took the initiative, straddling his lap in a manner that meant there was a tantalizing sense of pressure, but no relief, in his groin, the small changes in position with the motion of the carriage teasing his senses as she bent to kiss him.
Fire ignited, roaring and singing through his blood as her lips pressed against his, then opened in playful invitation, a tongue swiping tauntingly over his mouth and teasing one corner.
He wasted no time responding, letting his tongue dance with hers, twining, tasting, flicking across the insides of cheeks and the upper palate in a game of temptation and enjoyment that heightened his senses.
Nora’s scent was all around him, her unique fragrance and the delicate aromas of the bath soaps she had used that morning. Her hands were warm and surprisingly firm on his shoulders, the only anchor he had in the waves of sensation that captured his attention. Her weight, teasing and touching and constantly shifting until he was surprised he had any blood left any place other than his groin.
His trousers were painfully tight, straining, and at last, he could take no more. He drew back with a gasp. “Nora…”
She peeked at him through her lashes, a look that he might have taken as innocent if he had not seen the gleam of mischief and laughter in her eyes. “Yes, Arthur?”
He groaned, then leaned forward to growl huskily in her ear. “Either stop teasing me, vixen, or do something about it. I am like to embarrass myself if you do not.”
“Truly? Well, we cannot have that.”
Before he could properly consider the words, deft fingers were on his trouser buttons. Moments later, his shirt was untucked, his waistcoat unbuttoned, his jacket pushed back, and his trousers undone, the sensation of cooler air on his hardened and heated member making air hiss between his teeth.
He scarce had time to register the sensation before Nora straddled him again, the silken fabric of her chemise sending waves of pleasure through him as it stroked over his heated flesh. His hips rocked upward without conscious thought, making him gasp as little darts of lightning seemed to sing through his blood.
Silken fabric, and teasing sensations of warmth, close enough to cause him to strain upward in one second, then gone the next, driving him nearly mad with frustration.
The carriage hit a bump in the road, and Nora toppled into him, chest to chest and nearly nose to nose, as she fell forward.
Heat and dampness and pressure on the length of his shaft, somehow even more tantalizing through the thin shield of fabric... another change in the road rocked Nora into him, adding friction to the overwhelming stimulus, and Arthur felt himself come undone as the world disappeared in a white haze of pleasure.
When he came back to himself, Nora was smiling at him from the other seat. He pushed himself upright with a mock scowl. “Minx.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And why should I be the only one to ruin my undergarments? Was it not a little over a month ago that you did something similar to me?”
He recalled their first encounter there in his study and raised an eyebrow back at her in response. “Had I known you wished to return the favor, my dear, I would have been happy to make myself available to you. You had only to ask.”
“And deny myself the pleasure of watching you taken unawares? I rather think not.” She looked smug, and against all his own expectations, he felt desire stir anew in him.
