“She is with the doctor now,” Celia managed to tell them without smiling. “Dr. MacMaddenly has been indispensable to us during this terrible time.”
“We should go, Mother,” Lady Temperance said quietly. “After all, the household is in deep mourning, and Lady Cecilia surely needs her rest.”
“Quite right.” Lady Bournebridge hefted herself to her feet and offered a solemn curtsy when Elias stood and bowed. “If there is anything at all we can do to make this trying time easier,” she said, “please do not hesitate to send word, and it shall be done. I will see to it personally.”
“Do forgive me for not rising.” Celia weakly fanned herself. “I am still so weak. And thank you so much for coming by, Lady Bournebridge, Lady Temperance. Your thoughtfulness has brought us more comfort than you could ever know.” Celia politely bowed her head at both ladies, while biting the inside of her cheek to keep from choking on the lie.
Both ladies preened beneath the praise, curtsied again, then took their leave.
Elias hurried to the window with his hand held high to signal the need for total silence. After a long moment of peering through a crack in the drawn draperies, he let it drop and turned to Celia with a smile. “Your concerned friends are gone, my love.”
“Concerned friends, my foot.” Celia wrinkled her nose. “The room reeks of them now. We must ask the maids to air it.”
“In the meantime, my dear lady, shall I carry you to your sitting room, or do you wish to return to the garden? You have been up for a while now and even received visitors. Remember what the doctor said about overdoing it?”
“The garden.” She needed the sun and fresh air. But most of all, she needed Elias beside her, assuring her everything would be all right.
“The garden it is.” Elias scooped her up and settled her against his chest. “It will be all right, Celia,” he said quietly as he curled her even closer and looked down into her eyes.
“As long as you are here with me,” she whispered. “Never leave.”
“I never will, my love. I swear it.”
Chapter Eighteen
Celia’s soft snoressent a warm surge of joy and contentment through Elias. Her head rested in the dip of his shoulder, and her arm lay across his chest. She had thrown the silkiness of her leg across his thighs, and her wondrous breasts shifted against him with her every intake of breath. Not a stitch of clothing existed between them, and never would whenever they were in bed, if Elias had his way about it. With the greatest of care and mindlessly superb ecstasy, they had, at last, after waiting two weeks for her wound to heal, consummated their vows—three times, in fact.
He stared up into the darkness, thankful he had not lost her—the first time because of his own idiocy and the second time to that murderous fiend Friedrich. Now their lives could settle into the routine of a happily married couple. An amused huff escaped him. Somehow, he doubted life with Celia would ever be dull or routine.
His thoughts turned somber, going from blissful thankfulness to worry. Monty’s efforts to get the letters patent amended had not gone as smoothly nor as quickly as they had hoped. In fact, envious whisperings of opportunistic money-grabbing and jealous glances had become disturbingly regular—even from those in Elias’s office. The amendment seemed to have stalled and kept getting pushed aside for other matters. Frustration made him blow out a heavy sigh.
“You insisted I not fret over the delays, yet you huff and puff like the bellows for a fire.” Celia shifted with a deep yawn, then curled tighter against him. “I do not mind so much about the title or entailments anymore. My greatest worry is damage to the businesses.” Her voice was raspy with sleepiness. She cleared her throat and blew out a heavy sigh. “So many families depend on us to help them keep their shops going until they can fully manage their accounts themselves.” She lifted her head and gave him a worried frown. “If we cannot secure the dukedom, is there any way we can transfer what remains under the name of Hasterton to the Bening accounts—including the businesses?”
“I am afraid not, my love.” Elias wouldn’t lie to her. “With everything in probate, we can move nothing.” He combed his fingers through her dark, silken curls, loving the way they tumbled across his chest. “But all is not lost yet. There is still hope for the amendment to be approved. Everything is astir right now because of Wellington’s victory. Once things settle, I am sure we will persevere. Lady Bournebridge assured it. Remember?” He gently pulled her in for a long, slow kiss that stirred him to consider pursuing a fourth consummation of their vows. “At least now you and your mother are safe,” he whispered across the suppleness of her mouth. “Everything else can be…handledhowever it needs to be.”
“Handled,” she repeated while sliding her hand downward. She cast a quick glance at the dwindling candle on the nightstand, then smiled. “Are we terribly wanton for doing this so many times in one night?”
“Terribly,” he said with a groan as she artfully stroked his member with slow, teasing pulls that made it difficult to be patient and resist the temptation of rolling her over and sinking back inside her. “But if you think about it,” he said, “we are making up for lost time. After all, we have been married for two weeks.”
“Indeed,” she said as she straddled him and rubbed her wetness against him with every excruciatingly perfect stroke. “Two weeks. Fourteen days. Once a day—or, say, twice—since we are newlyweds.” She guided him in, encasing him in her hot slickness. As she slowly rocked her hips, she leaned forward, sliding her hands up his chest to nibble on his bottom lip. “That works out to be twenty-eight times. We have a great deal of catching up to do.”
He filled his hands with her luscious bottom and helped her rock faster. “Your mathematics are exemplary.”
“One can only strive to do one’s best,” she whispered as she guided his mouth to her breast while grinding against him harder.
With his mouth full, Elias could only groan in agreement.
Celia clutched him to her breasts, pulling him upright as she arched and threw back her head while filling their bedroom with her moans.
Patience could just be damned. He gently rolled her, ground in deeper, then pounded hard and long.
She met his every thrust, then shrieked as her shuttering spasms spurred him to hammer on to his own release with a hearty roar.
Trembling with the need to collapse on top of his precious love, Elias forced himself to shift and pull her back into his embrace at his side. While she might be strong enough for their loving, his weight on her would be far too much. He turned her face to his, lifted his head, and kissed her. “I love you, my precious lioness. More than you will ever know.”
“I love you, dear husband—even though you irritated me into doing so.” The light from the nearly spent candle sparkled in her eyes, making him catch his breath at the depth of love he saw there.
“I am glad I irritated you into loving me.” Relaxing back on the pillow, he rested his cheek against the top of her head and pulled her hand to the center of his chest. “Feel that? My heart beats for you, Celia. It always will.”
