Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
“By God, I ought to make that into a song,” he said, letting out a harsh breath.
“A song I’ll play with my arse cheeks?”
“Yes. And we’ll practice it at least once a week.”
She laughed, still impaled, then shifted gingerly. “That was very loud.”
“Loud enough and measured enough that the servants knew to stay away.”
“Oh, my goodness.”
His sweet wife was entertained. Her merriment was infectious.
“You see, pianos are good for much more than meting out spankings.” He lifted her carefully from his softening cock and turned her over his lap. “Although they remain useful for that purpose as well.”
She squealed as he treated her to a few wild wallops before righting her. Then she set about demurely smoothing her skirts as if she wasn’t the most well-fucked wife in Christendom.
“I shall think of this in the garden, when the guests are all around us,” she said, her cheeks still flushed from pleasure. “I don’t think I’ll be able to suppress the memory.”
He did up his trousers with a grin. “Whenever our eyes meet, I’ll know exactly what you’re thinking about.”
She crawled back into his lap and put her arms around him, and kissed him with abandon, her thrusting tongue parting his lips. He loved that she could be as bold as she was yielding. Just when he thought he might have to importune her again, she wisely pulled away.
“I really ought to get ready now,” she said, hopping off his lap and quickly moving beyond arm’s length. “I’ll see you in the garden.” She paused a few steps from the door and turned back. “I do hope the party’s a success.”
“Why wouldn’t it be? Everyone’s going to enjoy it. The weather couldn’t be more perfect.”
He saw some wavering anxiety in her gaze, fleeting, then gone. He supposed it was because Felicity would be here, that he’d see her for the first time since he and Elizabeth had married.
“Everything will be fine,” he said in a firmer voice. “I promise. And I love you.”
He emphasized the last part and hoped she got the message. There was only room in his heart for one dark-haired beauty, and it wasn’t the infatuation of his past.
*
Elizabeth took forever to get ready. She changed her idea for a gown four times and asked to have her hair redone twice. She told herself it was not because she feared comparison to Felicity, August’s first love. That would be silly, for that whole situation was done and past. No. She took such great care with her appearance because she was hosting her first party as the Countess of Augustine, and everything must be perfect. She wanted her husband and all her family to be proud.
Elizabeth walked out into the garden and looked up at the sun with a grateful expression. It really was an unreasonably gorgeous day. Not too hot, not too cold, with wisps of breeze to flutter the flowers’ petals just so.
Under these blue skies, August’s servants had done superlative work. One large tent held dozens of chairs and tables decorated with striking floral centerpieces, while a smaller tent sheltered elaborate sideboards laden with tarts, tea cakes, salads, sandwiches, biscuits and pastries for two hundred guests. Elizabeth hoped they wouldn’t all arrive at once. Everyone had wanted an invitation to see Princess Felicity and Prince Carlo—and to see the newlywed Earl and Countess of Augustine holding court at their home.
A few guests, mostly family, had already arrived and were cooing over the refreshments. Children darted about. A couple of her nephews nearly upended her husband as he made his way to her side.
“Darling, you’re an absolute picture.” He hugged her, then dropped a quick, discreet kiss upon her lips. “Truly a picture. I love you in green.”
She’d ended up wearing one of her newest silk gowns, a gift from August, ordered at great expense from the most celebrated seamstress in Paris. Her maid had marveled at the way the green brought out her eyes. Her husband regarded her as if she were a princess, though she must take care not to outshine the real royals. He placed another discreet kiss beside her carefully tamed updo, her ebony locks braided and coiled about her head in the Welsh style her mother sometimes wore.
Then he met her gaze, and she remembered their sultry escapade in the music hall, every bit of it. She tried not to be obvious in her smile, hoped she did not look as libidinous as she felt, especially since guests were starting to arrive in greater numbers.
“Off to do my hosting duties,” he said, releasing her from his thrall. “And your mother told me you must go to her at once, because she misses hugging you. She does give very good hugs.”
As if on cue, her mother appeared at her side, along with her sisters Hazel and Charlotte, and a phalanx of nieces and nephews. Goodness, she’d been so nervous about hosting, but everyone was smiling and jolly, having a wonderful time.