From Gigi’s perspective, the revelation ought to feel like a bonus. It would elevate her status and strengthen his position with regard to her family. When all was said and done, he didn’t think she would mind…but he ought to prepare her ahead of time. After their wedding night, he decided. When he’d staked his claim and she belonged to him fully. Then she would take his side, no matter what.
The drawing room door opened. Conrad, who would have scoffed at anyone who called him sentimental, felt as if time drew to a halt. As he laid eyes on Gigi, he stopped breathing, his senses absorbed by the perfection of her and this moment.
She exceeded his deepest fantasy, and her clothing had nothing to do with it. Truth be told, he preferred her with none at all. Yet his Gigi was a fashionable chit, and he’d wanted her to remember her wedding day with pride. Earlier, he’d pulled a few strings, and a modiste named Madame Dubois had arrived with trunks and an army of assistants in tow. When Gigi had bubbled over with excitement, telling him that she’d been on a waiting list for an appointment with the exclusive dressmaker, he knew he’d made the right choice.
Madame Dubois had brought a selection of wedding dresses, and after Gigi had chosen her favorite, the assistants had worked on the fitting. Conrad had informed the modiste that Gigi was to have carte blanche for a trousseau as well, including a ball gown for a special occasion. He left the ladies to it, his lips twitching when he heard Gigi’s exclamations of delight through the closed door.
Seeing Gigi now, Conrad knew the modiste was worth every penny. The pristine, off-the-shoulder ivory dress looked exquisite on Gigi’s slender frame. Trimmed with the finest lace, tight in the bodice and fluffy in the skirts, the gown gave her the appearance of a demure princess. Her hair had been fashioned into a shiny coronet and studded with orange blossoms. The tender length of her throat was bare—an oversight he would remedy soon—yet she needed no ornament beyond the ring that marked her as his.
As magnificent as the sapphire was, it was no match for Gigi’s eyes. He felt as if he could drown in her gaze—in the love, mischief, and loyalty that, from this day on, would belong to him. He would no longer be a lonely beast roaming the earth alone. He had won his mate, body and soul, and now he would bind her to him.
Escorted by her brother, Gigi glided the short distance to Conrad. She smiled at him and placed her hand in his. His chest expanded with pride and wonder as the rector began the ceremony that would join them forever.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I am married, and it’s my wedding night.
The thought ought to have made Gigi nervous. Instead, it gave her a giddy thrill. She felt grown-up and adventurous, ready to explore one of the great mysteries of womanhood. Since she and Conrad had already started down this path and her mama had explained the basic facts of life, she knew what was about to happen tonight.
A pang struck Gigi as she thought of Mama and the rest of her family. Their absence was the only thing that marred her happiness. She’d written a letter, explaining everything and begging their forgiveness. She sent it to Bottoms House so that they would receive it upon their return. Once her family saw the love between her and Conrad, she was certain they would understand and support her marriage.
In the meantime, she couldn’t wait to be alone with her new husband.
After the wedding ceremony, which had been simple yet beautiful, Conrad had hosted a decadent feast. The eight-course meal was an extravagant display of haute cuisine: sturgeon caviar on toast points, turbot in a delicate lemon sauce, beef braised with truffles, and roast pheasant stuffed with raisins and fennel were just a few of the delicious offerings. For dessert, the butler had wheeled in the chef’s pièce de résistance: a croquembouche. Balls of puff pastry stuffed with cream had been stacked to form a towering pyramid and drizzled with caramel to create a show-stopping finish.
Over supper, Gigi had enjoyed getting to know Conrad’s partners. Mr. Redgrave had shared rather bawdy tales about Conrad’s time as a prizefighter that made her eyes grow bigger and bigger…until Conrad cut him off. She liked Mr. Marvell, too, who shared her fondness for Chuddums and was an aficionado of Letty’s bottled water. Conrad, for his part, had been at his charming best. He’d managed to draw out Owen, discussing landscaping projects he’d undertaken at his various estates (which made Gigi wonder how much property her new husband owned). At one point, her brother even let out a rusty laugh.
After the party ended, Gigi had gone up to her sumptuous new bedchamber. One of the maids helped her change into the bedtime outfit supplied by Madame Dubois. Used to voluminous night rails, Gigi felt daring and sophisticated in the sleek ivory negligee and peignoir. The peignoir was sheer and flowy, with scalloped lace edges and a delicate ribbon belt. Beneath it, the silk negligee clung to her curves, and panels of lace provided racy, peekaboo views. Her hair cascaded down her back in loose waves.
At the knock on the adjoining door, Gigi’s heart sped up.
“Come in,” she said.
Conrad entered, and her pulse stuttered at his magnificence. His black silk dressing gown accentuated the blatant virility of his form. He raked his gaze over her.
“Devil and damn,” he said in a raspy voice.
“Is it too much?” Flustered, she pressed her hands to her warm cheeks. “Madame Dubois said such sets are all the rage in Paris.”
“It’s definitely too much. But I have a solution for that.”
Prowling over, he took hold of the peignoir’s belt and gave it a swift tug. The robe parted, and he pushed it off her shoulders, letting it pool on the floor. He had seen her unclothed before, yet Gigi felt strangely more exposed in the lacy negligee. Her nipples, stiff and rosy, peeped beneath the lacy bodice, and the high slits revealed her upper thighs.
“There now, that’s better.” Proprietary pride gleamed in Conrad’s eyes. “I planned to be gentlemanly and ease you into our wedding night with conversation, love. But I think I cannot wait to have you.”
His impatience mirrored her own. She placed her palms on his chest, feeling his thumping vitality. Wonder filled her that this magnificent man was hers.
“I want you too,” she whispered. “I cannot wait for us to belong to each other completely.”
Tenderness transformed Conrad’s harsh features as he sifted his fingers through her hair.
“You’re mine,” he said roughly. “And I’m yours. For the rest of our days.”
When he bent his head, she rose to meet him. Their lips clung in the sweetest of kisses. The joining felt like a culmination of every kiss they’d had: from the first at the stream when they were strangers to the most recent when the rector had declared them man and wife. It was gentle and scorching, exploring the complexity of the desire that bound them.
She sighed when he kissed her ear and neck. The beginnings of his night beard abraded her decolletage, and it was an exquisite sensation. His large hands palming her shoulder blades, he pulled her roughly against his mouth. She whimpered as he licked her breasts through the negligee. He swirled his tongue until the swollen buds were fully visible through the wet lace. When he sucked a throbbing peak into his mouth, she swayed.
The next instant, he was carrying her to the bed. He lay her across the mattress, and she felt like a princess sinking into the feathery softness. He fingered the ribbon strap of the negligee before grabbing the delicate bodice. She gasped as he tore the garment down the middle.
