The Caversham Chronicles ~ the Beginning

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Cav’s future wife rested against him as their coach rolled into London proper. Amelia had been napping off and on for the last two hours, while Cav read over some important paperwork regarding his business ventures. Before that?

A slow smile spread on his face. He’d introduced her to lovemaking in the carriage by bringing her to straddle his lap, dropping the front of his breeches and entering her through the slit in her drawers. Only after he saw to her pleasure, bringing her to the first of two orgasms, did he give her his.

He’d been so content in the monotonous s****l relationships with his mistresses over the years that he’d forgotten the joy that could be had in making love with someone you genuinely, deeply cared for. And Cav already cared for Amelia more than was logical. He’d met her less than a week earlier and without a doubt, he was falling in love with her.

Now, as she stirred, he took the opportunity to let her know what was about to happen. He didn’t want the events of the next few weeks to come unexpectedly and overwhelm her. His lifestyle, while not as ostentatious as others of the nobility, was far different from the one she’d experienced. He wanted to prepare and protect the lady who was to be his wife.

“When we arrive at my home, we shall enter from the rear of the property, as you do not have a proper chaperon yet. I have made arrangements for one, though it may take her a day or two to arrive from the country.” She gave him an inquisitive look, but he wasn’t ready to answer her just yet. He’d rather she meet the woman he’d asked to have brought to town first. There was the off-chance that she might not get along with her, but he doubted it. Though her grandmother had a strong personality, the woman would be delighted to have a grandchild from the son she’d lost contact with so many years ago.

“If she does not take you to her home in Hanover Square, you will remain here and we will find someone else to be your accompanier. Until she arrives or you have a proper lady to chaperon you, you cannot leave the house, I am sorry.” Her look of bewilderment made him want to smile, but her reputation was his to protect now.

“I will have some things quietly moved to my son’s apartments. I can reside with him for a short time.”

“Why do I need a chaperon, Your Grace?” Her gray-green eyes sparkled with amusement. They were sure to radiate emerald and golden hues given the right color clothing. Black and gray did absolutely nothing for her natural skin tones and expressive eyes. “I’m a veritable spinster, well beyond the age of majority.”

He gave her a c****d brow. “It’s to protect you from the gossips. You are about to enter a world unlike that of your small village in Surrey. People are not as kind as they would have you think.” Kissing the top of her head, he added, “Believe me, my sweet, it’s for your own good.” He went on to explain his plans. “We shall post the banns as soon as possible. I’d like to marry at our seat, Haldenwood. It is where my family has lived for centuries.”

She wrinkled her adorable nose, but was it at his words or at the odors of a hot, muggy city beginning to suffuse the carriage?

“I spend as much time out of London as possible in the summer,” Cav assured her. “After we settle a few things and I handle a few business matters, we can leave for the country. Hopefully as soon as next week. The first thing we will do for you when we arrive is to find out who the current, fashionable modiste is for ladies. You will need to spend time getting fitted by someone who can outfit you as befits my duchess.”

“It’s been almost six and a half months that I have worn black. While I did keep a few of my old dresses, they are at my aunt’s home.”

“I can afford to get you an entirely new wardrobe, you know.” He wanted to see her properly attired. Not because his duchess was required to dress like one, but because he wanted the pleasure of giving Amelia things that would delight her, as her delight was fast becoming his own.

Amelia laid her cheek on his breast and her warmth soaked through the layers of fabric he wore. She was tempting and innocent, beautiful and strong. “I know.”

“You never did say yes,” Cav whispered into the curls piled atop her head. It bothered him that she hadn’t.

“You have never asked me. You’ve said we will do this, go here, and marry in this time.” She lifted her head to look him in eye and he realized she was right. “Not once did you ask me. You kissed me senseless in the Merivale’s library and made love to me as if you thought I would leave you if you closed your eyes. But, Your Grace, if you want me to answer a question, you must first ask the question.”

He stared out the carriage window, beginning to recognize the streets, and knew they’d be at Caversham House soon. Did he ask her here, now, in the carriage? Or this evening at dinner?

Cav thought it would be the height of cruelty to make her wait.

“Do I not deserve to be asked? Or am I booty claimed and taken?” Cav heard the hurt in her voice. It was layered under that teasing tone she attempted. He wanted to tell her, to change that sadness to the joy she should be experiencing at this momentous time in a young lady’s life.

He scooted away from her and placed his papers on the opposite seat. Pushing his boots aside with his stockinged feet, he knelt on the floor of the carriage as it rolled through London’s traffic at a snail’s pace.

He grasped her hands together in his and looked up at her—all peachy complected, with her intriguing, expressive eyes and dark blond curls that escaped the pins during their lovemaking earlier. She’d touched his heart from the moment they met in ways he hadn’t experienced since before Lizzie died. Though she was young compared to him, she had a spirit that was sensible and settled and it beckoned him to come rest a while with her.

“Please, Amelia Caroline Elizabeth Manners-Sutton, will you do me the greatest honor in the world and marry me? I know I am not a young man that will have many years ahead, but the years I offer you will be happy ones. For not one day will pass that I will not cherish you. I will make it my highest priority to make you smile daily, and to give you all my heart. I also promise to care for you and any children we shall conceive for all your days.”

He watched her glorious eyes fill with tears and before she took her hands from his, he reached up and wiped the first ones to spill. “Don’t cry just yet. I’m stuck here on the floor and need you to give me a hand up.”

Then she laughed, and it was the most glorious sound he’d heard in years. At least until she gave him his answer.

“Yes, Your Grace. Nothing would make me more happy or proud than to spend the rest of my days as your wife.”

Two days later, Amelia stood on a stool in her sitting room, in the duchess’s suite at Caversham House, feeling much like a child’s doll—all dressed up, arms akimbo and unable to move. The muscles in her arms burned and her shoulders ached while her ribs itched from the fabric she’d selected for the gown she was to marry in. The cream-colored heavy silk brocade was shot through with gold thread, adding an untold amount of weight to the garment, and making it incredibly scratchy against her skin. But the color, according to the modiste most-in-demand among the ton, was a perfect match for her complexion, hair, and eye color. And the style, said the woman, with no beading at all on the bodice or skirts, would hide her ample bosom and hips.

“Madame, I must step down and have a cool drink before I faint from exhaustion.” Amelia waited for her to place the pin in the hem before she moved. She checked the stool she stood on for any scissors or needles, when she saw none she lifted the skirts high and sat upon it, relieving her of carrying the weight of the gown on her frame.

“Mademoiselle, you cannot stay seated for long or the fabric will take a crease which will be difficult to remove. Please, I will have a girl hold your drink if you will stand and let me finish these last few pins.”

Amelia wanted to remind the woman that she’d said she was almost done an hour ago, but she didn’t want to appear rude or unappreciative of her efforts. Footsteps entering her dressing room prompted her to turn carefully to see who was coming. Her maid brought her a note. “Thank you.” Amelia unfolded it to read a message from her husband-to-be. She hadn’t seen him since dinner the night before, as he’d been staying with his son at the marquess’s bachelor apartments until time to leave for Haldenwood.

“Dinner tonight with friends,” he wrote. “I will pick you up at seven.”

She would have to teach the man about asking for a lady’s company. He had this habit of dictating and assuming all would go as he desired. She wasn’t quite sure how she was going to do it, but the man was going to learn how to ask. She’d seen with her own father and brother that the son often reflected the habits of the father, be they good or bad. It wouldn’t do for Cav’s son, whom she’d met the previous night, to become overbearing and demanding of a woman.

She stood, accepting the glass from the seamstress’ assistant, and drank the cool lemonade. “Madame,” she said, stepping back onto the cushioned stool again, “I am ready to continue.”

Several hours later, Amelia checked her appearance once more before leaving her room. The pale mint color of the dinner gown she’d accepted this afternoon from the modiste hired by her husband-to-be, gave her cheeks a healthy pink tint, and the dark green piping accentuated her eyes—all this according to the woman who dressed everyone of importance in London. Amelia just wanted everything to be perfect tonight and she hoped Cav liked the gown. It would be the first time he would see her in something other than black or gray, and she wanted him to see her as a lady equal to the task of being his wife in both the bedroom and in the social arena.

The bedroom. They’d not shared a bed since arriving in town two days earlier. If she had her way, that would end tonight. Yesterday she’d told him it didn’t matter if he stayed here because they were soon to marry. But her future husband wanted all proprieties taken to preserve her reputation. To him, it didn’t matter that she was an almost twenty-nine-year-old spinster, he thought only to protect her from the gossips.

Meanwhile, she craved more of his touch. From their first kiss in the library at the Merivale’s, Amelia knew lying with him would be special. He’d made her desire his lovemaking, and untried virgin that she was, that frightened her. Until she gave in to his promise of pleasure. Each time he touched her, she wanted more of him, of his touch, and the way she felt with him. And she couldn’t tell if he felt the same.

She knew he wanted her, he’d told her this many times in the throes of passion. But did he get the same quivering feeling she did when they were about to make love?

The night before they came to London and during the trip, he’d explored her body in ways only a husband should. She smiled as she remembered telling him, then showing him, how she touched herself. Then he’d showed her how to touch his rigid shaft and he enjoyed her stroking as much as she did his. She wanted more of that. Tonight. To that end she went back into her dressing room and removed an item of clothing.

Tonight she would make Cav forget going back to his son’s bachelor apartment. If this didn’t work, she didn’t know what would.

Twenty minutes later and all of ten minutes late, Amelia entered the saloon and Cav grinned at her. He couldn’t possibly know what was on her mind. And how deliciously sinful she felt leaving her drawers in her dressing room.

“Good evening, Your Grace,” she purred as she drew nearer him. He was incredibly handsome and distinguished-looking, standing there in his full ducal attire. His black trousers clung to him and his burgundy and gold waistcoat showed his broad chest to perfection. The black dress coat with the tiny, embroidered ducal arms over his left breast made her heart race, not because it showed off the fact that he was a duke, but because it looked so good on him. She truly could not believe this man wanted to marry her. The bookbinder’s daughter from Elmbridge.

She approached him on wobbly legs, though he likely could not see them beneath her dress. He kissed her cheek and gave her an appreciative smile as she turned before him to show him the gown. “You are stunning, my dear. You will of course be the most beautiful woman at dinner this evening.”

“And likely the youngest as well,” she quipped through her smile. She had to remember to keep a serious face and smile as infrequently as possible throughout their dinner. Amelia didn’t want Cav’s friends to think her too young or inexperienced for her husband-to-be.

“Aye, that too.” Cav’s silver eyes devoured her, as his smiled turned serious. “I had my valet ask your maid which dress you selected for tonight.” His hand reached behind her.

“Where are we going?”

“To meet more family, my sweet.”

“Oh.” She watched as he lifted a case she’d not noticed on the sideboard. “What is that?”

“Something that pales to your beauty, for certain.” He removed a diamond choker from the bed of black velvet. “But it’s something that will complete your outfit.”

“Cav.” Her voice was a whisper. “They’re splendid.” She turned to allow him to place the diamonds around her neck.

“While there are many more Caversham jewels,” he said, “this is new. For you. I picked it up today, along with these earrings.” He retrieved another, smaller black case. With her light brown curls piled high on her head, she easily removed the earrings she’d selected earlier and placed the new ones in her lobes, then turned to face the mirror over the sideboard.

Amelia couldn’t believe the image of the sophisticated woman staring back at her. She appeared far too elevated from that which she’d come, and a little part of her was saddened. Perhaps it was knowing her parents and brother were not present to share in her happiness. She’d given Cav every detail of the investigator’s report regarding her brother’s disappearance. Though her belongings had yet to arrive from her aunt’s home, she knew every word of it, having read it a thousand times. She prayed daily he might be successful in returning Harry to England’s shores.

They entered the foyer and the footmen helped them with their cloaks. Cav fastened hers for her and the butler did the same for him. Soon they were in the Caversham-crested carriage en route to wherever this dinner was. The dinner where she was to meet more of his family, which she was beginning to believe was quite large.

During the ride to their destination, Cav amused her with tales of sharing the apartment with his son. She quickly reminded him of the massive unused bed next door to her.

“We shall have plenty of time for that in the future, my dear. I would not want to tire you of the marital bed.”

“Why do you say that, Cav? I assumed you enjoyed our lovemaking as much as I.” She didn’t think he was faking his eagerness to be alone with her, making love with her. But there was something in the words he’d used that told her he wasn’t expecting her to remain content and satisfied.

“I did… I mean, I do. But…” He sounded unsure. As though he thought it inappropriate to share this information with his future wife.

“But what? If we enjoy being together, do you think one month will matter? Are you afraid I will get with child? Because I pray I do.”

“The gossips can destroy a reputation before it even begins. I worry that they would taint you in a way that is unrecoverable, in light of the way we met and the speed at which we decided to marry.”

“What do you mean, ‘in light of the way we met?’”

“I’d rather not get into it right now. As we are about to have a lovely dinner with your new family.”

Amelia wasn’t going to let that subject drop altogether. She would have to remember to ask him about this gossip later. Perhaps after they made love again. The carriage came to a stop in front of their destination, and she smiled to herself. If he feared her desire for him would wane after their marriage, she had to assure him this was not the case. She needed him to know how much she wanted him.

“Why the smile?” Cav looked at her with unmistakable admiration. She hoped she could live up to his expectations of her.

“Because I wish to make quick work of this dinner, Your Grace. You see, I have plans for this evening myself.”

He smiled as the carriage steps were lowered. “I’m well-known for my steely resolve, my bride-to-be.”

“As am I, Your Grace.”

The carriage door opened and Amelia leaned forward to whisper into Cav’s ear. “I am not wearing my drawers. And when you look at me this evening, remember how much I want to feel you inside of me.”

Before her future husband exited the coach, she saw him make a slight move to adjust a growing erection. The expression on his face told her he was a little shocked by her words, and she began to blush fearing she might have been out of line. But his actions just then told her she was wrong. Very wrong.

Taking her arm to escort her into the home of their hosts for the evening, Cav gave her a seductive grin and leaned in toward her. When he spoke, his warm breath caressed her neck, sending a shiver of desire through her. “You have no idea how much I want to be there, my darling.”