To Tame a Dragon (14 page)

“Miss Underwood!”

Clarice curtsied, her furious face refusing
to smile. Robin Delaney was always kind, never talking down to
her. She appreciated it more than he knew. It was a shame he was
friends with that reprobate. Not to mention she was here for his
sister’s blood. He might not look so kindly on her once she was
done with Amelia Delaney.

“I wish to see your sister, Lord Beckham.”

Robin’s face turned slightly pink. “Ah, well,
unfortunately she’s not here.”

She stared at him.

“She’s, ah, on the green.”

“With
him
?”

Robin turned to look for inspiration but
found none.

“Let me call for my mother, Miss Underwood.”

“No, thank you. I would like to give Lady Amelia
my message in person.”

Robin cleared his throat. “This engagement
was very sudden.”

“What I find reprehensible is she pretended
to be my friend. She tried to make me think it was for the best
and what a terrible husband he would have made. And I believed
her.”

“Dear girl, he
would
have made you a terrible
husband. He’s much too wild for a sweet girl like you.”

Clarice sighed. “A terrible husband is better
than no husband.”

Robin frowned. “Miss Underwood, you deserve
far better than that. You deserve better than Jameson Pendrake.”

She nearly softened, then stamped her pretty
little foot. “And now I’ll never get it, thanks to him. I’m a
laughing stock. I was thrown over! And for Amelia Delaney!”

She gasped, but Robin took no offense. His
sister was hard-nosed, stubborn, and painfully intelligent. Not
exactly the traits most men looked for in a wife. Whereas Miss
Underwood was pretty, petite, and normally very sweet. Robin
suspected that any woman’s disposition would crumble under Miss
Underwood’s recent travails.

“I’m sorry, Lord Beckham. I shouldn’t speak
this way to you.”

He smiled kindly. “May I offer you tea?”

Clarice blinked. Lord Beckham was so quiet,
and always a companion to his sister or
him
that he was
easy to overlook. But he was just so kind. And now, right now,
Clarice needed kindness more than anything.

She smiled shyly at him, nodding. “Thank
you.”

There was silence between them as tea was
brought.

“I wanted to thank you for escorting me home
the other day as well. I’m afraid I was not good company.”

He smiled. “You had received quite a shock.
Please forget it.”

“I do not wish to forget it. I was engaged to
him, left by him, and he barely acknowledged me. He only looked
at
her
.”

She took a deep breath and looked away from
him for a moment.

“You are his friend.” He nodded. “Her brother.”
He nodded again. She opened her mouth to say something, then
apparently changed her mind. She said instead, “Are they always like that?”

“You mean exhausting?”

She looked at him in surprised disbelief,
then nodded fiercely. “Yes! They are so... much.”

He smiled slightly. Then he laughed.

She blinked at him and her mouth twitched.
She held a handkerchief up to her mouth to hide her giggles.

When their laughter had died down, Robin said, “Miss Underwood, that is quite the
understatement.” And the giggles erupted again.

T
he marriage of Lord Nighting to Lady Amelia
Delaney had been a spectacle, there was no other word for it.
Despite Amelia’s assurances that she was indeed engaged to
Jameson, none could quite believe it. Most thought it a horrible
joke, although on whose part no one was sure.

Carriages had lined the streets and gawkers
had lingered outside the church. Amelia had glared at Jameson
and indicated he would be paying an obscene amount of money to
make up for ruining her wedding day. He’d only nodded; Jameson
could all too easily understand why the
ton
had insisted
on seeing this wedding. He could not believe she had capitulated
so easily himself.

But there she was. Beside him, as she would
be for the rest of his days.

He helped her with her plate and sat down,
famished. The stress of the morning had worn him down, and now
that the affair was over he was quite relaxed.

“Now tell the truth, Amelia. You didn’t think
I’d go through with it.”

She sat heavily in the chair. “Of course I
didn’t. I could hardly expect Robin to get you to show if you
decided to bolt.”

“I’ll tell you again. When a man is ready to
marry, there’s no stopping him.”

She snorted. “You were afraid of what I’d do
to you.”

He nodded. “True. A little. Miss Underwood
was bad enough and she is not nearly as dangerous as you. And
there was the fact that I didn’t actually think
you’d
show.”

She smiled into her drink. “Admit it, you
would have deserved it.”

“Everyone knew I did. Why do you think the
church was so full? The
ton
wanted to see my
comeuppance.”

“I’m sorry I disappointed them.”

“I’m not.”

“You always did get out of your punishments.”

“I am too charming by half. A joke and a
smile and all is forgiven.”

“Perhaps it is best that I am your wife now.
Those measures hardly work on me.”

He took a big bite, excitement growing with
every moment they were left alone. Dinner was a quiet meal
between the two of them and he was entirely conscious of the
newness of it.

She seemed to be quite aware of how alone
they were as well, but instead of an increased appetite she had
an increased thirst. A copious amount of liquor was finding its
way down her throat.

“I am sure I will from now on be punished
exceedingly for every infraction.”

“You don’t seem too upset at the prospect.”

“My dear, think of it. I am no longer looking
for a wife; I will not have to sit through boring conversations
with virginal debutantes, no endless dances. Just think of the
free time I have now to devote to gaming, riding, and my toilet.
If the price to pay is an occasional scolding from my wife,
well, my dear, you were quite fond of scolding me before we were
married.”

“Jameson, really. We have been married for
not one day and already the rose has lost its bloom. Can you not
pretend that we are still unaware of the other’s bad habits?”

He grinned through his forkful. “If you
insist. But I must admit that the complete lack of newness makes
me most comfortable. Just think how awkward this dinner would
have been with Miss Underwood. Why, I hardly knew her! What
would we have talked about?”

She glared at him. “The last thing I would
like to hear about on the night of my wedding is you and Miss
Underwood.”

He paused in his gorging and looked at her.
Really looked at her. “Oh, my dear. Come here.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “I don’t think
so. Kindly refrain from embarrassing me in my new household.”

“But you are thinking. Again. I suppose it is
to be never-ending work for me to get you to stop. Come sit on
my lap while we sop up that alcohol you’ve been swilling.”

She guffawed. “I will not. Are we savages?”

He rose, making his way to her. “Tonight we
shall be. I am sure you will enjoy it, if only for the novelty.
Up, up you go.”

He bent over her, kissing her loudly on the
mouth, and lifted her bodily from the seat.

“Put me down, you great oaf.”

He sat in her chair and positioned her atop
his lap. He grabbed a piece
of bread and plopped it unceremoniously in her mouth as she
opened it to berate him. And he sealed her lips shut with his
own.

He mumbled, “Shall I chew it for you as
well?”

She looked haughtily down at him as best she
could, then began to chew. Her lips rubbed angrily against his
as she chewed. Her breath huffed against his face.

He settled back in the chair, keeping her
close. “I find the strangest things exciting when I am close to
you.”

“Stop talking against my mouth.”

He laughed lightly. “Of course. Another
slice?”

He continued to feed her, kissing her between
bites. Her breath came slower and his pants grew tighter until
he finally stopped feeding her between kisses.

“I believe you’ve finally stopped thinking.”

“No. I’m thinking I suppose we really are
married.”

“Before man and God.”

She looked at him for a long moment then blew
out her breath. “Are you any good at this sort of thing?”

He resisted the temptation to fling her over
his shoulder and show her at once. “I like to think so.”

“I will admit that you seem to be quite
expert at kissing.”

He grinned. “Why thank you, my dear. Shall we
go upstairs, then?”

She nodded. “I am quite tired of being
hand-fed.”

“I liked it. Perhaps you should feed me
sometime.”

“Hmm. I might enjoy that better.”

He stood and took her hand. “Ah. Why does it
surprise me that you like to be in charge? I will have to
remember that for another night. But if you will, my dear, allow
me to lead in this dance just this once.”

“It goes against the grain.”

He laughed. “I know, but you must bow to
superior knowledge.”

“I will only warn you that if I don’t think
you’re doing it properly I will be forced to take matters into
my own hands.”

He was quiet a long, long time. “Amelia...”
He cleared his throat. “If I am not doing it properly I give my
hearty approval for you to do it yourself. I’d like to watch.”

Her look of incomprehension merely made him
stop and kiss her hard. “But I will do my utmost to make the
experience worthy of your standards.”

“You are a rake and a womanizer. I expect if
anyone can make this a pleasurable experience it will be you.”

He muttered to himself, “No pressure, old
chap.”

They arrived at the bedchamber door and he
opened it with a flourish. “Shall I carry you across this
threshold as well?”

“No, once was plenty. It is not as funny as
you think to pretend to trip.”

“Why don’t you carry
me
across?”

She entered and began undoing her garments.
“Oh, Jameson. Do shut up and get on with it.” He followed her
in, grinning, and closed the door with a soft click.

The morning dawned bright and clear, at least
outside. Amelia’s head pounded and she felt as if she was
roasting alive inside the thick covers. Alcohol was the culprit
behind her headache. This was the first time she’d overindulged
to such an extent, and while she’d appreciated the fuzziness it
had offered last night, this morning she vowed to meet her
problems and fears head on. Which brought her to the man she lay
sleeping next to.

He was a furnace! It was as if she was
sleeping inside a fire, he was so hot. And while it may not be
quite the thing to actually sleep with one’s spouse, she could
foresee herself sneaking into his bed late at night to warm
herself up.

Undoubtedly, in more ways than one.

She smiled, congratulating herself on the
excellent bed-partner her husband had turned out to be. She had
said it before and she would say it again, the man was
capable
.
She still felt tingly all over. Last night he had energetically
explored every inch of her and now that it was daylight and the
shock had worn off, she felt like returning the favor.

She lifted the covers to take a peek. She had
a wonderful view of his backside, from his neck to his toes. And
she couldn’t suppress the shiver of delight that warmed her as
she looked at all that golden, muscle-filled skin.

She had never thought the male of the species
particularly praise-worthy; they were entirely too much trouble.
But she would admit to herself that her husband was indeed one
of the more beautiful specimens. And if she was to be shackled
to one, it might as well be one that she enjoyed looking at.
Perhaps Clarice had been right in that regards.

She pressed herself against his backside from
toe to breast and sniffed his neck. There was some indefinable
smell that was Jameson and oh... right here...

She inhaled again, closing her eyes, and
tasting his scent in the back of her nose.

His chest rumbled against hers as he said in
a craggy, sleep-filled voice, “I do sincerely hope you have not
grown sharp teeth during the night and are thinking of eating
me. You sound as if you are appreciating a good cut of beef.”

“I am. You smell quite delicious.”

“Aged well?”

“Mmm.”

“That’s a relief. I would not want to offend
my wife’s delicate olfactory senses on our second day of wedded
bliss.”

He turned, his hair tousled from sleep and
his stubble defining his lower jaw. Her heart pitter-pattered at
the sight.

She steeled herself against the longing she
felt to throw herself against him. “How disheveled you look. I
had thought you rolled out of bed primped and perfect-looking.”