CHOCOLATE, TEA AND THE DUCHESS (10 page)

He'd never heard Haynes speak with such authority. The man growled the

words. Phillip complied, soon feeling the pressure of Haynes's finger pushed into his

virginal ass. He should end this, before he had full confirmation of who and what he

was. Shame threatened, but Phillip pushed back with force.

Haynes removed his finger and inserted two. The burn surprised Phillip, he'd no

idea. He willed himself to relax, to submit. His heart hammered; he could hear the

blood rushing through his head. He licked his bottom lip as the fingers were pushed in

harder, and Haynes began pumping them in and out.

Haynes leaned over him, his lips touching Phillip's ear. "I'm going to fuck your

ass, Phillip, hard, just like you did to me. Do you like to play rough,
Your Grace?"

Phillip could feel the other man's cock poised at his entrance. Haynes rocked

against the opening, each forward movement more forceful.

"Do it."

"As you wish." Haynes's voice carried a mocking tone.

Haynes thrust forward, breaching the ring of muscle. Phillip grunted—loudly—

the burn bringing tears to his eyes.

"Does it hurt?" Haynes asked with little compassion in his voice.

"Yes."

"Good. That's when it feels best."

Haynes never stopped rocking, ploughing farther inside, inch after inch, with

each forward thrust. Phillip had an unbearable urge to push the man away. He gripped

the counterpane to dispel that impulse. The feeling of fullness was so foreign, the

piercing pain much more than he'd realized. Yet, as he forced himself to relax, the pain

disappeared and uncomfortable pleasure consumed him.

Haynes fucked him in earnest now, the sound of their bodies slapping together

with each pounding stroke. He gave Phillip no quarter. He felt the man's ballocks

smacking his own. He had an intense urge to take his own cock in hand, but he

couldn't. He tried to rock his body, but Haynes was giving him little leeway. Haynes

left no doubt just who was in control.

He could do nothing but take what Haynes gave. He knew the man's release

neared, as the pace increased. First long, easy strokes, then short, staccato thrusts, and

finally, frenzied pounding as climax overtook Haynes. He emitted loud, needy groans

as he spilled his seed into Phillip's ass, the pulsing felt throughout Phillip's body.

Before Phillip could gather his thoughts, Haynes removed himself, gathered his

clothes, and went to the door. Weakly, Phillip stood and turned. "Where are you going

in such a hurry?"

"We are done, for good. Go home to your wife,
Phillip.
Show her what I've just

shown you."

Phillip stood stunned, dazed at the man's bitter tone. He'd learned much tonight

in this room. With a sudden feeling of loss, he looked after Haynes as the man walked

away. But even though the door's click echoed the tone of finality, he refused to believe

Haynes would end what was between them. The man would come around. Phillip felt

certain of it.

* * * * *

Felicity stirred and realized the soreness, an ache between her legs and deep

inside, reminding her she was now a married woman. She patted the space next to her,

searching for the warmth of her husband's body, but his side of the bed lay empty and

cold.

As she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she sat up. The sun had risen, tiny fingers

of light creeping into the room through the slight separation in the draperies. A fire

crackled in the grate, and she heard a clock ticking somewhere in the room.

She took a moment to orient herself. She'd not seen much of this room last night,

for she truly had eyes only for Phillip. He'd been so kind and so gentle. Dare she think

he'd been loving? No, he'd simply been solicitous of the fact that she'd been a virgin.

Now, however, she knew enough to be considered well-seasoned, for he'd barely left

her alone. She'd learned many things about the marriage bed and about her husband.

She climbed off the high dais the bed was sitting upon, found her clothes, and

returned to her room through the connecting door. Emily puttered around the room,

having already laid out Felicity's clothing on the bed.

"Good morning, Your Grace. I have had a bath prepared for you."

"Thank you, Emily."

The girl curtsied and smiled toothily.

"Have you seen His Grace this morning, Emily?" Felicity asked as she slipped a

toe into the steaming hip bath.

"I have not seen him, myself, but I believe Densham was at his station when he

came in this morning."

"Came in? This morning?"

"Yes, Your Grace."

The bath became secondary to her urge to see her husband. Where had he gone

after she'd fallen asleep? It had been so late when they'd made love the last time. She

remembered hearing the clock chime, was it once or twice? She assumed he'd slept and

risen early.

Within thirty minutes, she finished her bath, dressed, and was prepared to find

Phillip. She had no idea how to approach him with what she'd learned. He'd lived a

good many years without having to answer for his comings and goings. Did she have a

right to hold him accountable now? Did she really have any expectation of fidelity or

love? He'd not promised such.

She wanted to be a part of his life, to share that which was important to him. No,

she wouldn't burden him with her foolishness; she'd done enough of that already. Her

greatest fear was that he'd disregard her standing as his wife and conduct his life as

he'd always done. She wanted desperately to show him she could be a good wife, a

good duchess, someone he'd be proud to have on his arm, whether they attended a ball

or were guests at Carlton House. She was the Duchess of Thornhill now, and she was

obligated to fulfill that role with aplomb.

After checking the pier glass one final time, making sure each auburn strand was

in place, she opened the door and began her first full day as the mistress of the house.

Chapter Ten

Phillip felt like shit. He'd returned home as the sun rose, dressed in day-old

clothing, and reeking of sex, brandy, and despair. He regretted going to the Sapphire

Club, and shame clung to him like a shroud. The dread of seeing Felicity was almost as

profound as Haynes's last statement as the man left the room.
"
We are done. Go home

to your wife, Phillip. Show her what I've just shown you."

That would never happen. His ass burned and ached at this moment from his

own introduction. No small degree of indignation, either.

Could he continue to live this life with Felicity now a part of it? Like it or not,

they were bound together. Poor child had no idea what a bastard she'd taken on.

He raked his hands through his hair for the hundredth time, trying to formulate

a plausible explanation for his disappearance. By now, she surely knew he hadn't spent

the night in the same bed as she, which might not seem so bad if he didn't look so

goddamn terrible.

In the end, rather than deal with the issue head on, he decided it wasn't any of

her business. He would not change his life to accommodate a woman, no matter if she

was his wife. He didn't want a wife, never wanted a wife, and that's the way it would

be . . . until he saw her, pretty as could be, smiling at him as though he'd hung the

moon.

"Good morning, Phillip." Her voice was like a song, and she had not a hint of

anger or revulsion in her eyes.

"Good morning, dear. Are you getting settled?"

"I have an appointment with Mrs. Landon this afternoon. We will go over the

household accounts. Please be patient with me; I'll learn to manage the household in

due time."

"I have an efficient staff, Felicity. They will show you everything you need to

know."

"Yes, so they have assured me. Is there anything I might get for you? You look as

though you have slept badly."

Shaking his head, wondering how she could be so . . . sweet . . . given he looked

like hell and smelled worse. "I could use a bath."

Wrinkling her freckled nose, she said, "Yes, you could." She rang for Densham,

then informed him of all the duke's needs.

Phillip tried to veer around her on his egress from the room but apparently, she

had other ideas. She hooked her arm in his and went with him to his bedchamber, into

his dressing room and waited until the bath was prepared. She then dismissed the

footmen, the valet, and the butler.

He had no idea what to do, but he knew he didn't want her to see the evidence of

the thrashing he'd received. He also didn't know if he carried outward signs of what

Haynes had done to him. He very much needed to be alone.

"Here, let me help you, darling." Her voice surrounded him like a spring breeze,

pleasant, light, and unassuming. She unbuttoned his coat and helped him remove it.

Then she moved to unbutton his shirt—

He put his hand on hers. "Please, I can undress myself."

"Is that why you employ a valet?"

Definitely more to this young girl than he suspected. She wasn't intimidated by

him, which was, at this moment, much to his disadvantage.

"Please, I wish to take my bath in private. I will join you after I have readied

myself for the day."

"Do you intend to have Glennon bathe, shave, dress, and otherwise groom you?"

"Why, of course, that
is
the man's job."

"Well, I mean to do all those things for you, at least for today."

"You can't, Felicity. I won't allow it." He hated to show his temper, but his head

pounded, and she was being obstinate. Most times people jumped when he even

thought
of giving an order. She completely ignored him, bent on having her own way.

"I truly do wish to help you. Now please, allow me to remove these wrinkled

trousers—"

"Get out!" He could see the hurt on her face as his harsh words echoed in the

small room.

She raised her chin, but acquiesced when he pointed in the direction of the door.

In her own calm way, she turned on her heel and walked out, indicating neither anger

nor disappointment. Simply hurt, which, to Phillip, was the worst of all.

* * * * *

Once she'd cleared Phillip's line of vision, she ran to her bedchamber and

dissolved into tears. She didn't know whether to be angry, hurt, or murderous. He was

hiding something, already, and only one day into their marriage. Granted, theirs was no

love match, but last night had been so special. Yet, he'd disappeared in the middle of

the night and returned looking like a man who had . . . no, she refused to think that

way. Besides, he could do as he pleased. No, she didn't want that. He'd done as he

pleased for too many years.

She'd so enjoyed everything they'd done on their wedding night and was sure he

had too. He gave her a delicious spanking, which truly enhanced their lovemaking, just

as Serenity Damrill had told Felicity it would. What more could she do? She wanted to

please him, more than anything. Anyone could run his household, for heaven's sake; his

staff had been doing it for ages. She wanted to be a wife to him, to make him realize he

needed a wife, which she knew would be a most difficult task.

She couldn't act like a child every time he got angry; after all, he must get angry

often. No, she had to learn about him, learn his likes and dislikes, sexually and

otherwise.

A thought popped into her head, something she truly thought might please him.

She would give him time, then approach him with her suggestion. He would see her as

a wife trying to please him, and if she pleased herself in the process, so much the better.

An hour later, she heard voices in the room next door. She opened the door just a

crack. Phillip stood with a man, whom she assumed must be Glennon as the man

helped Phillip into a coat. From her perspective, he looked considerably better than he

had earlier.

"That's all, Glennon," she heard Phillip say, then she heard the door leading to

the hallway close. Her husband was alone.

Quickly, she removed her clothing, surprised she'd accomplished such a feat

with no help from Emily. She dabbed lavender water behind her ears, under her

breasts, and in the vicinity of her quim, all in the hopes that Phillip would take notice.

She slipped a tissue-thin nightrail over her head before she tapped on the connecting

door.

Phillip opened it almost instantly, clean shaven and smelling of sandalwood.

"Hello." He sounded surprised to see her.

"Hello to you. May I come in?"

"Yes, please." He motioned with his hand to enter, closing the door behind her.

She reached around him and locked it, the click resounding in the nearly quiet room.

"I am sorry, Phillip, for presuming to supplant your wishes earlier. I promise, I

will never do so again."

"That would be greatly appreciated." Though his voice sounded calm, it retained

its usual authoritative tone.

"I will learn, I promise."

He nodded but looked as uncomfortable as she felt.

She walked up to him and placed her hands on his chest. Even through the

layers of fabric, she could feel his heart beating wildly.

"I truly enjoyed last night, Phillip."

"As did I, Felicity." He placed a hand over hers, staying her progress to his