Bertrice Small - Deceived

"Good God, Valerian, what do you take me for? Why on earth would I want a lover? I was not raised to be loose. A woman cleaves to her husband, unless, of course, he turns out to be an utter cad, in which case she poisons him quickly and becomes a merry widow," she finished with a wicked smile. Then she took his hand, and separating his fingers, began to suck them slowly, one by one. Her tongue rotated in leisurely fashion about each digit, and then she would draw upon the finger so strongly that he thought she might devour it.

"Fashionable women," he murmured, bending to nuzzle in the cleft between her two round little breasts, "take and discard lovers with little thought, as do their husbands. Had Calandra not been so coldhearted, I believe she would have followed the fashion quite willingly."

"I am not my sister, as you have already discovered," Aurora said, "and I have no need for another man in my bed as long as you are so attentive. You had best not take a mistress, my lord. Besides, if I never see London again, it will be too soon. I love living at Hawkes Hill, and I shall be most happy to remain here for the rest of my life." Finished playing with his fingers, she nipped at his knuckles.

With startling swiftness he pinioned her beneath him and kissed her until she was quite breathless and laughing. "Wanton witch," he accused her, but he was smiling.

She felt him already roused against her thigh, and said, "You are impatient, Valerian. I did not expect such passion from you."

"I cannot wait, my precious," he apologized, pushing himself into her wet, hot sheath. "Will you forgive me?" He began to move on her.

"Ummmmmmm," she replied, and she wrapped her legs about his torso once again. "Make me fly again, Valerian, and I will excuse this unseemly haste and your lack of finesse. Oh! Oh! Yessssss!"

"Little bitch," he groaned against her mouth. "I cannot get enough of you, I cannot!"

He was a sorcerer, she thought as she began to lose control of herself once more. His touch inflamed. His hard body excited her more than anything else she had ever known. Take a lover? Dear heaven, what other man could please her so greatly? Could reach so deeply into her heart and soul that she was overwhelmed with a plethora of emotions she hardly understood, and which threatened to overwhelm her. She would never take a lover. Husbands could be such fools, she considered as she soared from the pinnacle once more. "Ahhhhhhhh, my darling!" she cried.

He lay atop her, drained and gasping for breath. Her sweetness and her intense passion would certainly be the death of him. The elusive fragrance that was Aurora assailed him, and he sighed with pleasure. Mistress, indeed! She had, in a day's time, spoiled him for all other women forever. She shifted beneath him, and immediately he rolled off her. "I think I may kill you," he said low, "for all the time you cost us with your stubborn nature, my precious." He took her hand and squeezed it hard. "I think I fell in love with you the day I saw you coming from the sea, but I put it from me. Then, when you arrived in England, I was tortured by the thought you would wed another and I could not have you. And when you chose St. John, I wanted to kill him!"

"Hush, Valerian." She leaned over him, stopping his mouth with her own for a moment. Then she continued. "I can never forget that my selfishness caused Cally great unhappiness, and cost her her life. I must live with that the rest of my life even as I experience the joy of loving you. It seems so unfair that I should be happy and poor Cally will never know happiness."

"Then you love me as I love you?" he said, his voice breaking.

"Of course I love you, you fool," she replied. "When I would daydream, it was your face I saw, and never St. John's. I did not understand it until now, but I realize that I was in love with you although I could not admit it for fear of being disloyal to my sister. After all, it was not right that I love Cally's husband, Valerian, but I may certainly love my own husband, may I not?"

There was a discreet knock upon the bedchamber door, and Browne's voice said softly but distinctly, "Supper is served, your grace." Then they heard him retreating down the hallway.

"Are you hungry?" he asked her. She loved him!

"Ravenous, my lord," she assured him, her look smoldering, and then she amended, "for food also, my darling!"

Laughing, he arose and crossed the room to open the door and bring in an enormous tray which he placed upon a large rectangular table set against one of the paneled walls. He tossed two more logs upon the fire, coaxing the flames higher. Then he took the bedside taperstick and used it to light several other candles upon the table and about the bedroom. "What shall I bring you?" he asked her.

"What is there?" she responded.

Removing the silver domes covering the dishes, he said, "Raw oysters, capon, cold asparagus from the greenhouse, bread, cheese, butter, and fruit. And champagne."

"Everything!" she told him eagerly.

He filled her plate and brought it to her. She had plumped up the pillows and drawn the coverlet up modestly over her breasts. Taking the plate from him, she began to eat with great gusto, swallowing down six raw oysters and then attacking a piece of capon breast. Joining her with his own full plate, he found himself being aroused as she ate her asparagus, sucking the vinaigrette from her fingers, licking her mouth with her facile tongue. He averted his eyes and concentrated upon the consumption of a dozen oysters. He was obviously going to need their restorative powers.

"We have no champagne!" she cried, and putting her plate aside on the coverlet climbed from the bed and padded across the room to pour them two crystal gobletsful. She brought him his, bending first to dip a nipple into the sparkling wine, and then offering it to him mischievously. "Is it to your grace's taste?" she inquired innocently.

"It will do," he replied, licking her nipple with a grin and taking the goblet from her.

She climbed back into their bed with her own narrow crystal, sipping it decorously. "Delicious," she pronounced. "Do do you think we could dip your…"

"No!" he said, and he began to laugh again.

"Why not?" she demanded. "Have you done it before?"

He shook his head. "It is not advisable, Aurora. You know what will happen if we begin such love play, and then there will be champagne and oyster shells all over the bedclothes."

"Oh, very well, Valerian, but one day when we are not so encumbered we must try it. Perhaps I shall bathe in a tub full of champagne, and you may lick me dry," she tempted him.

"How can a girl who was a virgin until a day ago have such lascivious and libertine thoughts?" he demanded of her.

"Are women not supposed to think of it?" she asked him. "Even after they are wed? That is not fair! Certainly men think on it, and for that matter, men get to do it without any criticism before they are married, and ofttimes after with other women."

"But we will not do it," he said, "with anyone other than each other, Aurora." Rising from the bed, he took their plates and then brought her a wet cloth with which he wiped her face and hands before doing his own. "Would you like some dessert? Cook has sent up some lovely grapes, and little meringues."

"Bring the champagne, and we shall make our own dessert." Aurora told him. "I have a great many more licentious and salacious thoughts to share with you, my husband. Perhaps I shall even convince you to act upon them, or perhaps I shall act upon them," she teased him.

"You have it in your head to kill me,"he said. "Don't you?"

Aurora chuckled. "Only with love, Valerian, and only if you promise to slay me with your love too."

Shaking his head, he refilled her crystal goblet and his own. Then he joined her in their bed, the burning look in his dark blue eyes matching the passion in her aquamarine-blue ones.

ENGLAND, 1762

“You will have to leave Hawkes Hill for a short time," thedowager said to Valerian and Aurora. "The scandal is too new, and will not die if you remain here for the gossips to feast upon."

"Just because no one came to call at Christmas," the duke began, but his grandmother cut him short with a wave of her hand.

"People call at Christmas, even to a house in mourning," Mary Rose Hawkesworth explained. "They did not call at Hawkes Hill because of your unseemly haste in marrying Aurora. The apparent lack of good manners you have both shown toward Calandra's memory is considered both outrageous and shocking. I will need time to erase that notion among our neighbors, and I cannot do it if you are both here. It gives the appearance of recalcitrance on your part."

"I don't give a damn what our neighbors think," Valerian said in strong and unrepentant tones.

Aurora laughed at her husband's stubbornness. "I do," she said, "and you should also. If we continue to be ostracized by our neighbors, with whom will our children associate as they are growing up, and how shall we arrange suitable marriages for them one day? Not only that the truth will become blurred as time passes unless we can contain it, and stop the slander before it is out of control. It will spread beyond the county, and we shall truly be avoided. No, my darling, your grandmama is correct. We must go off until the gossip dies and the truth be spread about."

He glowered at the two women, but neither seemed taken aback by his dark look. In fact, both looked rather amused. "Oh, very well," he finally agreed, "But I am not happy about being discommoded by a cackling group of fancy hens. I suppose we could open Farminster House and go up to London for a few months."

"An excellent idea," his grandmother said. "You have not yet had the opportunity to pay your formal respects to the king. Your grandfather died around the same time as the old king, then you were off to collect your bride, and then Calandra was enceinte, so you missed the royal wedding and the coronation both. I think it would be a very good thing if you were to visit London for a time."

"Will we get to meet the king and queen?" Aurora asked.

"Of course, child," the dowager assured her. "I was once friends with the Earl of Bute's mother, and knew him as a boy. Valerian has met him also, and, I believe, sold him some breeding stock for his cattle herds, did you not, dear boy?"

"Yes, about three years ago," the duke replied.

"The earl stands high in his majesty's favor," the dowager continued. "He was the king's tutor, and quite close to the king's mother, I am told. He will certainly arrange an introduction to their majesties for you and Valerian. I shall write him tomorrow."

"You must tell me how many servants we will need to run Farminster House properly," Aurora said, and the two women put their heads together, chattering away, much to the duke's chagrin.

He did not want to go up to London, and he would wager that Aurora didn't want to go either. She was simply being good-natured about their rather sticky social situation. Damn his nosy neighbors! What did they know of his misery, or Calandra's, during the months of their marriage? And they most certainly did not know that Aurora was the bride he should have married, and not her sister. His grandmother, with the willing help of the silly Lady Bowen, however, would manage to get everything straightened out eventually.

"We will be home May first," he announced to the two women.

"You are not giving me a great deal of time, are you, Valerian?" his grandmother said, "But I expect I can manage to wipe away most of your sins by then, and as Aurora was but your innocent victim, yes, the first of May will be all right." She chuckled at the outraged look on his handsome face.

Messages were dispatched the following day to the Earl of Bute and to Farminster House. The trunks were packed and the baggage cart filled up with everything they would need for their stay in London. There would be a carriage for the duke and duchess, and one for their servants. Several riding horses would travel with them so Valerian and Aurora might have an alternate means of transport when they chose not to travel within the confines of their coach. A rider had already been dispatched ahead to arrange for their accommodations in local inns. There would be an armed guard to protect them from highwaymen.