“No,” she said, confusion marring her brow. “I don’t think so. It only felt like a little pinch.”
“I won’t move until you say it’s all right,” he breathed against her neck, despite the fact that the need to thrust inside of her was an unholy ache in his loins.
“I want you to,” she whispered.
Those were the only words Thomas needed to hear. He pulled his hips back slowly and plunged into her again. He searched her face for any sign of pain. She nodded to him, and he continued, pulling back his hips and thrusting again and again, going faster each time until he was mindless with the need to spend himself, andDelilah was clinging to him, soft little moans sounding in the back of her throat, driving him mad.
“It feels so… good,” she whispered, her eyes tightly closed, her head thrown back. She wrapped her legs around his thighs, and Thomas thought he would die of pleasure. Bracing his hands against the mattress on either side of her head, he thrust into her again, again, and one last time before she cried out his name, and his own release jolted through him.
In the aftermath of their lovemaking, Thomas held Delilah in his arms, his hands filtering through her long, dark hair. He couldn’t stop touching her, didn’t want to, at any rate.
“If you’ve never done that before, how in heaven’s name did you know how to do it likethat?” she asked in awe.
Thomas chuckled. “In addition to my reading, I have many male friends whose lips are loosened when they’re deep in their cups. I stayed sober and took notes.”
“Not really?” she asked, her mouth open in shock.
“Not literally,” he allowed, smiling. “But mentally, for certain.” He winked at her.
Delilah giggled. “I’m only sorry it took me so long to realize I love you,” she murmured.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how I felt the day you announced your intention to marry Branville.”
She smiled against his shoulder. “That wouldn’t have worked. I was certain and determined, and you know you cannot talk me out of anything once my mind is made up. Unfortunately, I have to learn everything the difficult way… for myself.”
He kissed the top of her head. “Which is precisely why I didn’t tell you, and why I set about trying to convinceyou instead, by playing along with your ridiculous elixir scheme. But I’m not entirely blameless either.”
She traced the edge of his ear with a fingertip. “What do you mean?”
“I thought about what you said, about my need to rescue everyone. You’re right. Part of me wanted to make everything right. I wanted you desperately, but only if you came to me out of love, not out of need.”
She nodded against his chest. “Precisely as Madame Rosa said.” She lifted her head to look at him. “Perhaps it wasn’t a complete mistake to purchase that elixir. She helped me realize that I couldn’t have you unless I came to you from my own free will.”
He gazed back at her, his eyes filled with love. “I’m only thankful we didn’t make a complete mess of things before they were irretrievably broken. I love you, Delilah. I never want to lose you again.”
Looking at him now—so earnest, so handsome, so completely mussed and undone from their lovemaking—she thought her heart might burst. She swallowed the lump in her throat and joked, “In fifty years, you’ll be begging to get away from me.”
“Fifty years is quite a long time,” he replied with a chuckle.
“Yes, well.” She gave the curve of his shoulder a playful nip. “I suppose we should begin the next fifty years by planning our wedding. Cousin Daphne will be beside herself with glee. And Aunt Willie and Aunt Lenore will too. I’m certain of it.”
“You shall have a wedding fit for a duchess, my darling,” he said, and rolled atop her again, kissing her deeply.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
London, April 1828
The wedding of Lady Delilah Montebank to Lord Thomas, Duke of Huntley, was the grandest affair London had seen in an age. It was held at St. Paul’s and attended by no less than five hundred members of the Quality, and some common folk as well, including Madame Rosa, Amandine, and Will, the valet.
The bride had insisted upon delaying the wedding till spring in order to wear a pink wedding gown. The dress was made of light pink satin with pink bows and pink slippers. She even had pink flowers twined in her hair. Her mother would never have approved of the amount of pink Delilah chose to have at her wedding, which made it all the more delightful that she had it. But Lucy and Daphne and Aunt Willie and Aunt Lenore had all ensured that she had as much pink as she desired. And Delilah felt like nothing so much as a fairy princess.
Delilah’s mother and new stepfather, Lord Hilton,attended the ceremony, but they sat conspicuously in the back of the church. Clarence was not with them. No doubt he was otherwise engaged in his room. Lady Vanessa and Lord Hilton were not invited to the wedding breakfast or the festivities later that night at Huntley Park.
The reception at Huntley Park was another grand affair. Pink roses covered nearly every inch of the manor house, including the ballroom, where a grand ball was held that evening to celebrate the marriage.
All of their friends were there. They gathered round the newly married couple to wish them well.
“Just think,” Thomas said to Jane Upton. “If it weren’t for you adding that kiss to the script last summer, we might not be here today.”
