Sarah's Duke: and Ellie's Gentleman (The heir and the spare, book 1) (10 page)

Oliver pushed her legs apart and stared down at her a moment, marveling at how pink and perfect she was. The lips were soft and open for him. He dropped his head and kissed her flesh, loving the scent of her in his nose, the taste of her sweetness on his tongue. He licked and enjoyed her body, giving Sarah as much pleasure as he could. When he lowered his head and darted his tongue out to taste her core she screamed.

“Oliver, I can’t... It feels so...”

She was almost there. He knew women could experience just as much pleasure as men, it just wasn’t well known by his society. Most of his previous bed partners had been women who were paid for the pleasure of bedding them, and therefore Oliver had never exerted himself for their pleasure. It had been fun to learn about their bodies and although some of them had climaxed occasionally, he rarely made it his goal. Now, it was all he wanted. Oliver watched Sarah’s body tighten and her legs started to quiver beneath his palms. So, at the same time as he lapped at the hidden button at the top of her folds, he thrust a finger slowly inside her wet entrance. She gasped and writhed but made no attempt to stop him as he thrust a second finger in alongside it and began moving his fingers in the rhythm his body longed to mimic.

Sarah began thrashing her head from side to side then her body jerked, a hoarse moan sounding as she began to orgasm. Oliver groaned when his fingers were covered in a thicker wetness and her sheath contracted around him over and over again. Amazing.

Her body went limp and he removed his fingers, kissing the red, wet flesh with wonder.

“Don’t fall asleep on me yet, wife,” Oliver teased, his voice strained. His balls ached, begging for release.

Sarah opened her eyes and groggily went to sit up, but he pushed her gently down again.

“But I want to touch you too Oliver.”

“Next time,” Oliver captured her lips in a kiss before she could start to worry about what he would be doing next.

He lay down between her thighs and on her, skin to skin, groin to groin. They both groaned in unison. Oliver panted, enjoying the feeling for one moment before levering himself up onto his arms and reaching down to position himself between her thighs.

“Don’t leave me,” Sarah cried, pulling at his shoulders to maintain the full body contact.

Oliver clenched his teeth against the urge to impale her in one thrust. Why did she have to be so desirable?

“Your mother did tell you there would be some pain the first time?” he asked through clenched teeth. He needed to hold on for another couple of moments.

“Yes,” Sarah whispered, looking down between their bodies to where his prick lay against the opening to her body.

“Oliver you’re very big, are you sure you’ll be able to fit? I know you have done this before, but I’m not so sure...”

Oliver tried to smile but didn’t quite manage it.

“We’ll go slowly, trust me,” he reassured her, pushing in the first inch and pausing as her body gave easily to the resistance and admitted him.

He relaxed against her and held onto his control with his fingernails. She was so wet and tight he almost shot his seed before he had even taken her virginity. He pulled completely out of her again, and when she arched her back he gave her another inch. His cock was screaming at him to take her, but his head begged him to take it slow. This time he paused and looked down at her. She was staring at him in something akin to awe, but he knew the hard part was yet to come.

When Oliver came up against the barrier of her innocence he thanked God she had been telling the truth about Millington. There was something so satisfying in knowing he was the only man to share this with her.

“Thank you for marrying me,” he murmured, sharing the thought he had been chanting inside his head all day.

Sarah, caught off guard, smiled up at him and relaxed her tight grip around him.

Oliver took the opportunity and plunged deep, groaning loudly as tight heat engulfed his entire shaft. Breathing deeply to hold back his release, he kissed her softly, waiting for the tension to dissolve from her muscles.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “But it will never hurt like that again.”

Sarah lifted her legs and wound them around his waist.

“That’s better,” she smiled up at him and as her pelvis tilted and pulled him in deeper, he moaned in appreciation.

Oliver was shocked by the natural wantonness of his wife and thanked whatever God had sent her his way. He had never thought a lady could respond like this.

Without conscious thought he began to move. The pressure built in his head and his balls tightened. He knew he wouldn’t last long enough to bring her to a second climax but he couldn’t stop. He thrust slowly in and out of her trying to hurt her as little as possible, but as she moved her hips in time with his, he felt the reins on his control slip from his grasp. He thrust heavily into her, their skin slapping together and echoing around the room. The roaring in his head matched the aching in his groin, and he cried out. His body shook and shuddered as his cock jerked inside his new wife, his heart thundering against his ribs as bliss descended over his body.

Oliver’s arms shook and he let his body sink onto Sarah, his brain so foggy he could barely think. His angel stroked his hair and held him to her breast, and a contentment he’d never felt before flowed through his body. 

He forced his body to move, and gently rolled to the side, still maintaining contact with Sarah, but removing his weight from her.

“I can’t believe how amazing that felt,” Oliver pressed his lips to Sarah’s bare shoulder, inhaling the sweaty scent of their lovemaking. Every nerve fiber in his body was singing in rapture, having been touched and stimulated by the incredible woman still in his arms.

Oliver settled onto his back and Sarah rolled towards him, nestling into his side and laying a hand on his belly.

“Thank you Oliver, that was wonderful.”

He smiled and kissed the top of her head, pulling the blankets up to cover them.

“It
was
wonderful,” he agreed, laughing out loud as he settled in to sleep. He should be getting out of his wife’s bed and going back to his own room. But as her body pressed close and she sighed in contentment, he decided that he wanted to stay. 

He had once heard his brother talk of his wedding night. The whimpers of pain and the unresponsive body of his cold, virgin wife. Oliver had feared he had been sentenced to the same life. Yet fate, fickle female that she was, had blessed him instead.

“I’m just sorry I couldn’t last longer at the end.” Oliver murmured, blushing lightly despite himself.

Sarah laughed. “I’m glad you didn’t, I would be much sorer if you kept going.”

“I hurt you?” Oliver pulled back the coverlet, sitting up to examine the spot between her legs. He had tried so hard not to hurt her.

A faint stain of blood colored her otherwise creamy thighs, and Oliver gulped at this physical evidence of what they had just done.

Sarah saw the blood too and reached down to pull the blanket back over them both.

“Only a little Oliver, but you said it would.” She pushed him down so that he lay back again. “Thank you,” she whispered once more and fell into a deep sated sleep.

Oliver was quick to follow her, sated to his bones in a way he never had been before. The feeling went so much deeper than the physical. He felt safe, warm and happy. Such unusual feelings that he didn’t stop to examine them, just passed into the land of dreams with the soft body of his wife pressed against him.

Seven

For the next month Sarah and Oliver enjoyed each other in every way imaginable. They slept until noon, eating breakfast from trays left outside their bedroom door. They rode beside each other, they walked together and they were intimate all the time, in more interesting places than Sarah could have dreamed. They made love in the stables at dusk, in the boat on the lake, and on his desk in his library. They spoke to each all the time as well. Sarah made her husband talk about his family and then she told him about hers.

Oliver showed her his home. The trees he used to climb as a young boy, the places he would hide from his nanny when he didn’t want to do his lessons. She was utterly enchanted with the estate she now called home. Oliver even took Sarah around to meet all of his tenants. It took several weeks, but little by little, the people met her and they seemed to like her.

It was all going so well, until one overcast day a large carriage pulled up outside the house. Sarah heard the butler curse under his breath and rush to the front door. Who could it be? Obviously not a well liked person or the very stoic, traditional butler would never have said such a word. Sarah’s stomach dropped when she heard the booming voice of a woman she had only met once.

Resisting the urge to run for cover, Sarah stood up and walked to the foyer. She curtseyed to the Dowager Duchess of Lincoln and the former Duchess of Lincoln.

When she rose, she took a good look at the women who was now her family. Her new mother-in-law had not aged well. Her skin was very wrinkled and too pale. She had a huge hooked nose and hair that was pulled too tightly against her head. However, she was dressed in the most beautiful of materials and her posture was so rigid, she could have passed for royalty. Good breeding was stamped all over her and a shiver ran over Sarah’s spine when her gaze connected with the cold grey eyes of her husband’s mother.

“Good morning,” Sarah greeted the two women with a smile, her belly jumping with terrified nerves.

Neither of the ladies greeted her back or curtseyed in response. They looked Sarah up and down, taking in her simple morning gown and grimaced in unison. Both of their upper lips actually lifted in a sneer.

They then started barking orders to the servants and within moments they were in their rooms being served. Sarah looked at the butler, who gave her one of the most genuinely sorry looks she had ever received.

Sarah took a breath and went to inform her husband that they had visitors.

****

That evening, Sarah put on her best dinner gown and made sure she was in the sitting room before everyone else.

“Well if it isn’t the new, Duchess of Lincoln,” came the cold, nasty voice of Oliver’s sister-in-law as she entered the room. Lady Honoria Lyre, Countess of Sombury.

“Lady Lyre,” Sarah stood and curtseyed deeply.

The woman didn’t curtsy in return, which as far as Sarah knew, was very rude  indeed. Sarah studied her, now that she was close enough to have a good look at her. Lady Lyre was twenty-one years old and quite handsome. She had dark hair and green eyes. Her skin was perfect alabaster, and her nose and features spoke of aristocratic breeding. Her gown was one of the most beautiful Sarah had ever seen. Incredibly delicate and expensive lace adorned the entire bodice and it was an olive green silk that Sarah’s family would never have been able to afford. Looking down on her pale blue gown, Sarah felt inadequate.
Vanity is a sin
, she reminded herself and straightened her spine.

“I hope your carriage ride was pleasant.” Sarah tried again to engage her sister-in-law.

“As pleasant as one expects ten miles in a carriage to be.”

Well, at least that was the start of a conversation.

“Will you be joining us for long on this visit?” She hoped desperately that they were just stopping on their way to another destination, but she doubted it very much. There was something almost evil about these women. She hated to even think such a thing, her father would have been extremely upset with her, but there was no other word for the air around them.

“Visit?” Lady Lyre asked incredulously, her eyes widening and her mouth pulling down on one side. “This is our home. We’ll be staying as long as we wish. You aren’t mistress here yet.”

Sarah stood with her mouth hanging open. That was how her husband and mother-in-law found her a moment later.

“Do close your mouth girl. You look like a simpleton,” the dowager snapped. “Shall we go in to dinner?” She grabbed Oliver’s arm and steered him towards the door.

Sarah watched her husband get dragged from the room by his mother and cringed. As the highest ranking woman, and a guest, she knew it was the correct thing that Oliver escort his mother. However, it didn’t sit well with her.

Dinner was a sombre affair. Any conversation that Sarah tried to make was quickly dismissed and a new, supposedly more interesting topic was introduced. The dowager and Lady Honoria spent most of the night talking about society and people whom Oliver had obviously known all his life. Sarah didn’t know any of them and therefore had little to add to the conversation. Which, she supposed, was the point.

The whole of dinner was a torture for Sarah and she assumed, for Oliver also. They didn’t dare look at each other, so instead they watched the two women converse and ate silently.

That night in bed, they didn’t speak much. Both were too shocked at the sudden change in their situation. They had been so happy, cocooned at his estate. Now they had to deal with the censure of his family. They made love slowly and almost silently. Enjoying each other for every minute that they had together, they made their world exist in their bed, the one place they were alone.

***

The next day Sarah was surprised, but rather relieved when she barely saw her new relatives. They stayed abed all day and only came down when it was time for dinner.

Sarah was talking to the butler when her mother-in-law came up behind her. Taking her roughly by the elbow, Sarah was hauled into the sitting room like an errant child. Heat bloomed in her cheeks as she tugged her arm back.

“You do not
ask
Cosgrove anything, you demand he do what you want. What sort of Duchess are you going to be girl?”

“I’m sorry, Your Grace.” Sarah had no idea what else to say.

“You should be, haven’t you learnt anything?”

“I didn’t know...”

“Of course you don’t know how to talk to the servants, that is why I’m telling you. You are their mistress. You tell them what to do and they do it. They are there to serve you.”

Sarah stared at her husband’s mother, her brain stumbling over the new definition of how she was meant to treat people in her employ. In their home the servants were treated with respect and thanked for doing a good job. Her mother was proud to be a good mistress.

“I apologize,” Sarah curtseyed again, dipping her eyes away from the nasty face still grimacing at her.

“Humph.”

The same routine as the night before ensued. Oliver’s mother commandeered him for an escort into dinner, and then Honoria and the Dowager occupied all of the conversation.

Half way through the main meal of pheasant and vegetables the Dowager started speaking to Oliver for the first time.

“I think you should hold a dinner party, Oliver.”

Sarah’s head came up. Wasn’t it her role to organize dinner parties and balls? Why was his mother suggesting a party now? They had barely been married five weeks. No one even knew her yet.

“It’s the middle of the Season Mother, surely there will be no one around to attend.”

“An informal dinner for those local families who hadn’t traveled to London would be a perfect way to introduce your new wife to the area.” The Dowager nodded towards Sarah.

Sarah smiled hesitantly in return, shocked by this new side to her mother-in-law.

Oliver turned to her. “What do you think, Sarah?”

A moment of panic ensued, Sarah’s heart racing inside her chest, but she resolutely clenched her hands in her lap.

“I think that would be lovely, Oliver. And if your mother would help me with a list of guests, I’m sure I can handle the rest.”

The Dowager nodded and Sarah’s whole body relaxed. Perhaps this would help her mother-in-law and sister-in-law see that she truly did belong by Oliver’s side.

***

Oliver’s mother presented Sarah with a guest list the following morning and then left her alone. Sarah had to assume the ages and status of the people on the list, her mother-in-law wasn’t around to ask. Few had titles and due to them remaining in the country, Sarah assumed they were local gentry. She sent out the invitations for Saturday night and planned the menu with the cook. The cook expressed slight concern over the simplicity of the fare, but Sarah was determined. She wanted simple, good food and plenty of it. This English preference for small amounts of delicate, complicated French food really turned her stomach.

The night of the dinner arrived and Sarah’s nerves were stretched thin. Her in-laws had managed to avoid her for most of the days in the past week. It was almost as though they were determined not to help her. Well, Sarah would not allow them to intimidate her.

Looking down on her pale blue evening gown, she realized that she should have ordered a new dress. As the hostess she was expected to overdress and be the most beautiful woman in the room. She knew for a fact that both the Dowager and Honoria had gowns more beautiful than the one she had on. There was no help for it, though. It was too late now.

Sarah’s maid was just finishing pinning her curly hair up into a complicated arrangement on top of her head when a knock sounded at the door.

“Come in,” Sarah called, before remembering herself and shutting her mouth with a clap. A Duchess didn’t shout.

The housekeeper herself walked in.

“The Dowager sent you some jewellery, Your Grace, to wear tonight,” she added hastily, as though remembering to remind Sarah that it was only a loan.

Sarah sighed. The woman had no daughters and Sarah was the wife to the dowager’s only remaining son. To who else would her jewels belong, after her demise? Unless, of course, Honoria did not remarry.

She opened the case and gasped. Inside was a horrendously expensive set of emerald earrings and a matching chunky necklace. The style was antique and the green clashed horribly with her gown, but they were very beautiful.

Her maid sighed softly. “It won’t look well w’ yer gown yer Grace.”

“I know,” Sarah handed the necklace up to her maid.

She had no choice. She was in trouble either way. Either she would look a fright or her mother-in-law would cut her for going against her wishes.

Sarah was tired of it all. She didn’t have the will for these sorts of games. She took a deep breath and looked at her reflection, she was Oliver’s wife and no one could take that away from her.

****

Oliver paced the drawing room for the fifth time. Where was his wife? She had to be here before the first guests arrived and he could hear carriage wheels rolling along the cobblestones in the driveway. He lifted his hand to call for a footman, when the butler announced her.

In Sarah walked, all beautiful golden skin and hair the color of sunshine. She saw him and made her way over to him the way a compass needle points due north. A lump swelled in his throat and he swallowed against the emotion stuck there.

She curtseyed before him and gave him a cheeky grin. “Your Grace.”

“Your Grace,” he bowed back, grinning back at his beautiful wife.

He caught a green shimmer around her neck and he narrowed his eyes on the horrible necklace around her throat he asked, “Where did that necklace come from?”

“Your mother, she loaned it to me for the party.”

Her hand came up to rest upon the emeralds self-consciously.

Oliver bit back a groan. Why hadn’t he bought her something new to wear for the evening? It was her first night hosting and he hadn’t even thought to recommend she get a new dress. Not that he should have, ladies in his family bought anything they wanted. Perhaps he should have allocated her money to spend on herself every month?

Lifting his gaze from the fashion blunder, he looked into her cautious eyes and forced himself to smile.

“You look beautiful,” he stepped forward and brought her knuckles to his lips, kissing her gloved hand.

“Well, that is what I like to see, Reverend. A man who knows how to treat his wife.”

Oliver rolled his eyes and slowly straightened up as he recognised the loud and rather obnoxious voice of the local Countess.

“The Countess of Tremble and Reverend Holland.” The butler announced, flushing and glancing away when Oliver looked at him. He hadn’t introduced the guests before they had spoken.

Oliver stepped forward and introduced his wife to a dragon he had known his whole life.

“It is lovely to make your acquaintance,” Sarah curtseyed prettily and Oliver grimaced. Sarah needn’t curtsy to any one if she didn’t want to, especially a woman beneath her in rank.

The Countess smiled knowingly and gave Oliver a wink. “It is my dear. I can see Oliver married you for your looks, but what are your connections like?”