The Decadent Duke (42 page)

Helen Taylor stood in the entrance hall at the bottom of the magnificent staircase. She had arrived at Woburn a week ago, bringing all Lady Georgina's clothes, personal effects, and possessions. She helped the new mistress of Woburn from her coat. “Ye've never looked more lovely, ma lamb. I'll take yer hat and coat upstairs.”

“Thank you, Helen.” Georgina tucked her arm into Mr. Burke's. “I put myself in your capable hands, sir. While my husband deserts me for his office to tend to important business matters, I beg you to show me around my new home.”

John hid a smile as he watched the pair disappear from the hall.
Mr. Burke is about to succumb to Georgy's irresistible charm, and if I'm not mistaken she already has the rest of them eating out of the palm of her hand.

Burke took Georgina into the main reception room and then led her through two smaller chambers into the sitting room.

She moved toward the fireplace and stood gazing up at the painting that hung above the mantel. “What a beautiful lady. Who is she, Mr. Burke?”

“The Duke of Bedford's first wife, Elizabeth.”

“Oh.” Georgina licked lips gone suddenly dry. As she stared at the portrait, all her newfound self-assurance melted away.
I had no idea John's wife was so exquisite.
She remembered Francis saying,
My brother was deeply in love with his wife. John was a devoted husband. His mourning has almost consumed him.

Georgina could not help comparing herself to the tall, slim, fair-haired Elizabeth.
I'm too short, too dark . . . I could never take her place in his affections.
In less than a minute, all her confidence vanished and was replaced by a mass of insecurity.

Mr. Burke poured a glass of claret and pressed it into her hand. Their eyes met, and Georgina knew she had found a staunch ally. As she sipped the wine she realized that making John love her might take longer than she had first anticipated.

 
Upstairs, Helen opened the doors to the bedchamber that had been prepared for Georgina. Her own familiar furnishings from Pall Mall took away some of her uncertainty.

“I chose this chamber because it has a spacious dressing room for all yer lovely clothes, and also because it adjoins the duke's bedchamber,” Helen explained.

“I didn't know we'd sleep in separate rooms.”

“Ha! There'll be little sleepin' done. Ye'll be able to make love in one bed then move to the other.”

Georgina felt forlorn. “Helen, I've just seen a portrait of John's wife. I'm afraid he's still in love with her.”

“Rubbish! In any contest ye'd win hands down.”

“Whatever makes you think that?”

“She's
dead
. Georgina Russell is living flesh and blood. Moreover, yer the bloody Duchess of Bedford. Never forget it. Never let
him
forget it!”

Georgy smiled tremulously. “I'm so glad you're here, Helen.” 
The newlyweds ate an intimate dinner for two that had been especially prepared by the chef. They lingered over the food and wine for two hours. John did not want Georgina to feel rushed, and since she was experiencing a shy reticence laced with a good deal of anxiety, she was content to let him set the pace.

When dinner was over, Georgina went to the kitchens and complimented the chef and his assistants. Pleased at her thoughtfulness, he asked what she would like for breakfast and if she would like it served upstairs.

She tried not to blush. “No, no, we will eat in the small dining room we used tonight. We are leaving for Cambridge after breakfast.”

Georgina went upstairs and found Helen in the spacious dressing room, packing the things she would take on her honeymoon trip.

“Yer new Paris gowns are a wee bit scandalous, though beautiful nonetheless. I'm glad ye chose some vivid colors. This jade green is the same color as yer lovely eyes.”

“I was so tired of those insipid debutante shades.”
To say nothing of the drab mourning monstrosities Mother foisted on me.
“I don't want you to pack my new Paris gowns. I shall save them for when we entertain here at Woburn. But I will need some of my old clothes . . . a couple of riding skirts and jackets. I'll be meeting John's tenant farmers on the various estates and flimsy tulle empire dresses would make me a laughingstock. Don't forget walking shoes and riding boots. When you're finished packing, summon a footman. I don't want you carrying any heavy luggage, Helen.”

“One thing I can say fer Woburn—there's no dearth of male servants. Some of 'em are braw, attractive buggers too.”

They heard John in the adjoining bedchamber, and Helen winked. “Speaking of braw, attractive buggers . . .”

“Leave the rest of the packing, and finish in the morning.”

“It's all done. Shall I help ye undress, ma lamb?”

“No, thank you, Helen. I'll look after myself.”

As Georgina removed her shoes and stockings, she was gripped with apprehension. Her husband had behaved in a civilized manner last night, but she knew she dared not deny him her body tonight. Her mind flew back. The first time she'd seen him she thought him dangerously threatening. What daunted her was the deep suppressed anger in his black eyes that he kept reined in. She had thought:
If he ever unleashes his rage, it will be like opening the gates of hell.
She'd always thought John Russell had a dark, dangerous side, and suspected the dominant devil was capable of giving her a thrashing if he was pushed beyond his limits.

By the time John opened the adjoining door, Georgina had donned her nightdress, brushed her hair, and was sitting up in bed. He walked a direct path to her, drew back the covers, and lifted her into his arms. He carried her into the other room. “This is our bedchamber, Georgy. We'll both be more comfortable in here.”

Her heart began to hammer so loudly she feared he might hear.

The chamber was large and luxuriously furnished in black and gold. There was a fire burning, and the huge fireplace and hearth were decorated with red Oriental tiles. Soft-cushioned chairs and a sofa sat on a thick-piled red and gold carpet. A carved, black oak games table sat in front of the fire, and a deep window seat held a chess set. The curtained bed was massive and so high, there was a stepping stool beside it.

John pulled back the covers and slipped her into the bed. He turned out the lamp, and other than a soft, flickering glow from the fire, the room was in shadow. He took off his bed robe, and saw the reflection of the flames in her eyes. “Georgy, you're staring as if you've never seen a naked man before.”

“I haven't seen many,” she confessed. She had caught fleeting glimpses of two of her sisters' husbands, but had averted her eyes instantly because of the intimate sexual acts involved. “And none as splendid as you.”

“Flattery, begod,” he teased, and she laughed nervously.

John climbed into bed beside her and drew her into his arms. If he wanted to make his young, beautiful wife fall in love with him, he knew he would have to bring her pleasure. Searing desire flared in him, but he leashed it tightly. He must not fall on her and ravage her as his hunger urged him to do; rather he must woo her with his lips, and his hands, arouse her slowly, gently, and savor her.

The heat of his body shocked her, but it also thrilled her. The male scent of his skin was tantalizing. She fought the desire to lick him and taste him. She felt his breath upon her skin and suddenly she wanted this man more than anything she had ever wanted in her life. Then his mouth took possession of hers, and her lips clung to his and opened softly under the seductive pressure of his sensual kiss.

He kissed her for an hour. Tiny, quick kisses to her temples, eyelids, and the corners of her mouth. He kissed her hair, her ear, then traced his lips along her cheekbone and down to her throat. He heard the quick intake of her breath and knew she was becoming aroused; then his mouth sought hers, and they lost themselves in the bliss of a hundred slow, melting kisses.

Georgina floated in a warm sea of pleasure; then soon her skin began to tingle, and a thousand pleasure points of fire and ice raced through her.

When he withdrew his mouth, he gently touched her lips with his finger. She suddenly lost control and took his finger into her mouth and sucked on it. This told him she was eager for more, and this time when he kissed her, he parted her lips and slid his tongue into her exciting mouth. He thrust in and out, imitating what his body wanted to do with hers.

When he drew back and released her lips, he heard a little moan of protest that told him his wooing was bringing her pleasure. He took her hand, dropped a kiss into her palm, and closed her fingers over it to keep it captive. Then his lips traced across her wrist, and he trailed kisses along the soft flesh on the inside of her arm. When she shuddered with pleasure, he cupped her breast and stroked his thumb over its tip. Through the silk of her nightdress, he felt her nipple ruche, and he could no longer control his hunger to feel her naked flesh against his body.

Starting at her ankles, he slid both hands beneath the silken garment. His palms stroked up her legs, caressed her hips, skimmed up over her rib cage; then he pulled the nightgown over her head. Though the light was dim, he gazed down at her naked body and worshipped her with his eyes. His fingers followed his glance as they caressed her lush breasts, slid across her soft belly, and toyed with the dark curls that covered her mons.

Georgina gasped as John's fingers touched the private place between her legs, but it felt so pleasurable she arched her mons into his hand as her senses whirled, and she could feel every slow beat of her heart. She cried out as he slid a long finger inside her. A protest rose to her lips and melted away in a sigh as delicious, hot strands spiraled deep inside her to her woman's core and she began to writhe.

Georgina's sheath was fever-hot and tight as it closed upon his finger. Her shocked reaction, followed by her blissful sighs, told John that these sensations were completely new to her, and implausible as it seemed, he suspected that Georgina was innocent. The thought inflamed him. That he would be first was a precious gift he had not dreamed of. He withdrew his finger and heard her small cry of protest. Then his hands encircled her waist and he lifted her onto his hard body. He groaned as her dark, silken hair cascaded onto his chest.

When John's powerful hands lifted her onto him, she went weak at the raw brute strength he possessed. His hard, muscled legs felt like granite against her soft thighs, and his marble-hard cock lay pulsing against her hot cleft. Her breasts were cushioned on his broad chest, and his crisp chest hair teased her nipples with every breath she took. When his palms stroked down her back and his hands cupped her bum cheeks and pressed her even closer, she wanted to scream with excitement. Then his fingers dipped into the cleft between her buttocks and she cried, “John!”

“You think you are ready, little girl, but this first mating will hurt,” he warned.

“I don't care” She was panting. Her breasts rose and fell.

John took her hand. “Feel me. Gauge its size. I don't want to shock you.” He slipped her hand between her legs and felt her fingers curl about his hardness. He almost came out of his skin as her fingers tightened. His whole body quivered at the exquisite sensations her touch brought him.

For a moment she was shocked at the size of his engorged phallus, but she was aroused, reeling with need, and her senses told her that this hunger could only be satisfied if John filled her and completed the mating. “Now, John, please.''

Gently, he lifted her to the bed and came over her. “Open your thighs, Georgy.” He slid the head of his cock inside her and held still, watching her face for any sign of pain. Then slowly, firmly, he thrust his shaft into her satin sheath until he was seated to the hilt.

She cried out once at the initial pain, but then as their bodies fused, she became aware of the fullness, and she shivered at the delicious weight of his powerful body.

“Wrap your legs around me, Georgy.” He began to move, slowly at first; then he thrust faster and harder, knowing he should not draw it out endlessly this first time. Heat leaped between them, and though it was silken torment, John did not allow himself to spend until he felt her first tiny pulsations begin; then they both dissolved in liquid tremors.

He rolled to his side, enfolded her in his arms, and held her tightly. With his lips pressed against her hair, he could feel her body gradually soften. A wave of deep content washed over him. He had been without warm, loving intimacy for a decade, and he reveled in Georgina's generous response. He felt like a starving man who'd had a feast laid out before him. He was aware he had given her pain, but he knew he had also given her pleasure. His love for her had tempered his raging need, and if he could control his dark passions by cherishing her and teaching her to enjoy her own sensuality, perhaps he would be able to bind her to him forever.

In the dark, Georgina smiled her secret smile. She had not denied him. She had swallowed her fear and met his body's demands eagerly. The pleasure he had brought her was far greater than the pain, and she could tell that John was entranced with her body's response. Mating had tamed the beast within, at least for tonight. Georgina knew they had a strong physical attraction.
John is certainly in lust with me. Perhaps that's the secret key to making him fall in love.

“The dean was clearly enchanted by you. I haven't seen such bowing and scraping since Napoleon Bonaparte introduced Josephine at the Tuileries reception.”

Georgina was flattered. Before they went to the Russell estate in Cambridgeshire, they had stopped at Cambridge University, where John's eldest son, Francis, would be attending in the autumn. “He hung on my every word because I am the Duchess of Bedford.”