He'd spent the night being plied with drink and bawdy stories told by well-bred gents. Though Gavin was no stranger to depravity, all the talk of wedding night deflowering had unsettled him. He'd never been with a virgin before. Apparently, they bled. Some even screamed.
A lot.
His hands went clammy at the thought of causing Percy pain. Of her turning away from him in fear or revulsion. Going to the liquor cabinet, he downed a shot of liquid courage.Don't be an idiot, Hunt. She wants you—she loves you.Shaking his head at his own foolishness, he went to the door and knocked. When no response came, he drew back his shoulders and opened the door.
The shriek made him jump from his skin.
"Pardon, monsieur!Mrs. Hunt is not ready—" A prune-faced maid barred the way to the room like a soldier on his last stand. From the expression on her face, she clearly thought she was protecting her new mistress from a fate worse than death. Weren't the French supposed to be blasé when it came to sexual matters? Perhaps the maid knew something about wedding nights that Gavin didn't. He swallowed.
"Is that you, Mr. Hunt?"
Following the direction of Percy's sweet voice, he spied her silhouette behind the silk screen in the far corner. The candlelight outlined her nubile figure as she dressed. The sight of her entranced him and brought him back to reality. This was his Percy, now hiswife. He'd never hurt her. Then the shadow of her hands began smoothing along her body, and lust bolted through him, momentarily scattering his wits.
For God's sake, man, rein it in.
"Er, do you need more time?" he said.
"Absolutment." The maid nodded vigorously.
"Not really," Percy called out at the same time. "I'm almost done. Thank you for your help, Yvette—you can run along now."
With a last suspicious look at Gavin, the maid departed.
Gavin sat in one of the armchairs by the fire. Silence stretched as he racked his brain for conversation. Unfortunately, his ability to think was severely compromised by Percy's seductive movements behind the screen. God, he hadn't been alone with her for months. Now to see her this way... He felt randier than a sailor on leave.
A minute later Percy emerged, and the sight of her unbalanced him utterly. He'd seen her in every kind of get-up, from breeches to turbans, but never in the simplicity of her night clothes. She was a bleedinggoddess. In a white flannel wrapper dotted with pink flowers, her golden hair falling in shining waves to her waist, she'd never looked more vibrant and pure.
More virginal.
He stood, his chest tangled with want and the desire to do this right.
"Hello, Mr. Hunt," she said.
Her smile loosened some of the knots. "Hello, Mrs. Hunt." He cleared his throat. "May I say you look ravishing?"
"You may." Her eyes sparkled as she approached him. "You look rather ravishing yourself, sir."
His rod twitched at her compliment, eager to prove just how ravishing he found her.Stay in control and go slow,he told himself firmly.
"There's champagne and food," he said, gesturing to the table by the fire. "Would you care to have some?"
"Not really. I'm still full from the brunch." Curling onto the settee, she patted the cushion next to her. "Won't you sit with me?"
He lowered himself next to her, careful to keep his distance lest he pounce on her. Her fresh, citrusy scent made his mouth water. His shaft swelled.
"It's a bit strange to be alone, isn't it?" Percy said into the awkward moment.
"There's no need to rush things. We have all night," he said. To show her he meant it, he added in conversational tones, "I thought the wedding went well, don't you?"
She gave him a look from beneath her lashes. "Very well. To be honest, I wasn't sure how the guests would rub together."
The guest list had represented a hodgepodge of society. Peers of the realm had sat side by side with men from the rookery and middling class folk. For the most part, everyone had behaved themselves—even Alfie, who'd performed the duty of ring bearer with surprising dignity. A near mishap had occurred when the Harteford twins ran into the table holding the wedding cake, but Davey and his brother had managed to save the masterpiece from toppling to the ground. For Gavin, the only sad moment had been Stewart's marked absence; he wished his mentor could have seen Percy, the most radiant bride ever—
Gavin jerked as said bride slid onto his lap. "Percy?" Her name came out as more of a groan for her bottom wriggled enticingly against his member.
"Keep talking if you'd like," she said cheerfully. "I understand 'tis normal to be a trifle anxious on one's wedding night. Or so everyone keeps telling me."
"You little minx," he said, his eyes narrowing. "Are you laughing at me?"
