Wicked Delights of a Bridal Bed (23 page)

But she only shook her head and closed her eyes to kiss one of his palms.

Then neither of them could wait an instant more, Adam thrusting up at the same moment she arched down. The sound of their moans filled the air, her skin growing slick against his own, their flesh joined in a mating that was as fierce as it was profound.

Suddenly she couldn’t think at all, dark waves of need washing over her like the ocean crashing to shore in a storm. She cried out when the tempest broke, senses flying apart only to be put together again in a burst of light and rapturous, unending pleasure. She collapsed against him, unable to speak as he found his own completion.

And then there was silence, and calm, their hearts beating in tandem where they lay locked as one. The words rose inside her again, but she was too weary, too satiated, to speak.

Later, she would tell him. Later there would be time.

Sighing, she buried her face against his neck and slept.

Chapter 21

“W
hat would you say about a trip to London?” Adam inquired a couple of days later as he helped himself to a second helping of eggs and ham from the blue transfer-ware platter on the dining-room table.

Watching him apply his fork with such gusto, Mallory decided he was more than entitled to the additional serving, particularly given the energetic way in which he’d taken her that morning. They’d never tupped against the wall in her bathing chamber before, but she’d discovered she rather quite liked the experience.

Come to think, she decided with a delicious inner shiver, she could do with a bit more sustenance herself.

“Go to London?” she said, reaching for another golden square of toast. “For how long?”

“A few days, maybe a week, even two, if you’d like.”

“When would we leave?”

“Tomorrow, I thought. Or the day after if you need more time to pack.” Taking up his cup of coffee, he drank a swallow before returning the china to its saucer. “I have some business to which I need attend, and I rather fancied having you come with me.” Reaching over, he picked up her hand and raised it to his lips.

Mallory smiled, her pulse racing pleasurably at the contact, as well as the invitation.

“You can shop,” he suggested. “I know you’ve been working with some of the pattern books here at home, but I’m sure it would be far easier selecting fabrics and furnishings in person. There’ll be an array of merchants at your disposal, and you can order to your heart’s content.”

Her smile widened, her fingers tightening against his own. “You’ve no need to convince me since I’d be more than delighted to accompany you. And you’re right, it would be an excellent opportunity to continue my efforts to redecorate the house. As you say, I can make far more progress if I’m able to see the merchandise with my own two eyes. I’ll even have a chance to replace this boring china.”

“Is it boring?” he said, letting go of her hand to reapply himself to his meal. “Seems entirely serviceable to me.”

“Exactly. It’s too serviceable and not at all in keeping with the dignity of your title. A set of Sèvres or Wedgwood will be far better. Mayhap I’ll even have a service designed especially for us. A lovely script G for Gresham would be nice.”

“Or an M for Mallory. I rather like the idea of that,” he said, giving her a wink.

“So,” she continued, dismissing his suggestion with a shake of her head. “Where shall we stay while we’re in Town? Do you still have your bachelor’s quarters?”

“We aren’t staying in my old bachelor’s quarters,” he told her, taking up his coffee cup once more as he leaned back in his chair. “Even if I hadn’t already let them go, they’re far too small and entirely unsuitable for you. No, I’ve made other arrangements until we have a chance to find a town house of our own.”

“Oh? Claridge’s then? I’ve never stayed in a hotel before,” she said, rather intrigued by the idea.

“No, not Claridge’s. I wrote to Edward and he has graciously offered us the use of Clybourne House for as long as we might have need. I decided to accept since I thought it would make you feel more comfortable.”

Leaning across, she reached for his hand again. “You’re so good to me.”

The easy smile left his face, replaced by an expression of great intensity. “No more than you deserve.” Setting down his cup, he glanced away. “Why don’t you tell Penny to start packing. We’ll leave in the morning if that suits you.”

“Yes, completely.”

He released her hand, leaving her to return it to her lap. “Adam—” she began.

His dark velvety gaze met hers, his brows lowered in a scowl. “Yes?”

“I—”

I love you.

But somehow it didn’t seem the right time for such a declaration, just as it hadn’t on any number of other occasions over the past couple of days. But it would soon, she told herself. Once she didn’t feel quite so shy—or uncertain and even now a little afraid.

“I—I’m excited about our trip,” she stated instead.

The corners of his mouth turned up, and he stood. Crossing to her, he bent and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “I am too.” Taking her hand again, he drew her to her feet. “Go on now and start getting ready. I shall see you at nuncheon.”

Arching up on her toes, she kissed him again. “Yes. Nuncheon, it is.”

She and Adam arrived in Grosvenor Square late the next day, a pair of footmen hurrying down the front steps of Clybourne House only moments after the coach rolled to a stop. With Croft presently at Braebourne, Denton, the underbutler, was there to greet them—his angular features and wide, familiar smile a welcoming sight.

Despite the fact that she and Adam were the only family members in residence, the house didn’t seem empty. The rooms and hallways were filled with a warm atmosphere and a bounty of gracious comforts, including vases full of fresh flowers, polished, lemon-scented floors and woodwork, and fires burning cozily in the grates.

After agreeing to accompany Adam, she’d experienced a few twinges of doubt about the decision, wondering how she would feel to return to the city after such a prolonged absence. The last time she’d been here, she’d been steeped in grief over the sudden news of Michael’s death, and all she’d wanted then was to get as far away from London as she could.

Yet the instant she entered the town house, she felt once more at home. In some ways, it was as if she’d never left, years of good memories chasing away the bad.

Still, in other ways, it was as if a lifetime had passed, and she was another person entirely. When she’d lived here before, she’d been a girl—courted and cosseted and indulged over the course of more than one Season. Now she was a woman—tempered by grief, matured by experience, gentled by marriage and love.

Walking up the broad staircase and along the familiar corridors, she resolved to enjoy her stay, to begin afresh and make a wealth of new memories—ones that would be her and Adam’s alone to share. With that in mind, she suggested they use one of the many guest suites rather than move into her old bedroom. The pair of connected chambers she chose were larger and would provide a far better accommodation for two people. Additionally, Adam’s room had an absolutely massive bed with a plump feather tick that she knew they would put to good use.

“Shall we christen it now?” Adam whispered in her ear, his arms stealing around her from behind in spite of the footmen who were still busy bringing up their luggage. Skimming his lips over her cheek, he playfully caressed her nape in a way that never failed to drive her wild. “I could shoo them all out and lock the door. We wouldn’t even have to take off our clothes, I could just tumble you down and toss up your skirts. What do you say, wife, shall I tup you now, or would you rather wait until later?”

Her nipples drew into aching peaks, her pulse strumming crazily in her veins.

“I must warn you,” he continued, rocking her back ever so subtly against him so she could feel his erection, “if you make me wait, I’ll expect no less than a penance for your willfulness. Something designed to make you scream loudly enough to wake the servants.”

A shudder raked over her spine, and she nearly ordered the footmen out herself. But then she remembered in whose house they were and what time of day it was.

Wondering where she got the strength or the nerve, she turned in his arms, careful to keep her voice low. “I believe then that I’d prefer to wait.” Reaching up, she stroked a fingertip over his lower lip. “And don’t assume I’ll be the only one of us screaming. I believe I’ll be able to oblige you in that area as well.”

Desire flared hot in his gaze and for a second she thought he was going to ignore her decision and carry her to the bed regardless. With obvious reluctance, however, he let her go. “You’ve turned into a siren, my sweet.”

Smiling, she leaned up and whispered in his ear. “It’s what comes, I suppose, of being married to a satyr. All girls should be so lucky.”

Tossing back his head, he laughed. “Have your bath and a change of clothes. I’ll be stripping them back off of you soon enough.”

“I look forward to it, my lord.”

Laughing again, he made his way through the connecting door and into his own bedchamber.

Drawing a shivery breath, she sank down onto a nearby couch, knowing Penny would be along any minute to help her settle in.

Adam more than kept his promise, and to his express delight Mallory did as well, the two of them pleasuring each other long into the night. Whether they woke the servants with the sound of their exuberant bed play, he didn’t know, nor did he care, having enjoyed their lovemaking far too thoroughly to worry about being discreet.

Awakening the next morning to rays of crisp November sunshine, he rose silently from the bed. Walking around, he bent to tuck Mallory more securely under the covers. She didn’t rouse as he did so, too deeply asleep after the night past to notice. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he left her to slumber, making a mental note to tell her maid that Mallory was not to be disturbed.

Bathed and dressed, he ate a quick repast, then set out from the house to conduct the first of his Town business. He needed to visit a couple of merchants about seed stores for next spring’s planting, discuss new tilling methods with an agricultural specialist with whom he’d been corresponding and stop by a new factory that was manufacturing advanced tools and machinery that he was considering testing on a few of the home farms.

Sometime this week as well he planned to call on Rafe Pendragon to catch up on investment matters. If what he’d heard were true, it would seem congratulations were in order on the financier’s own recent marriage. Both of them, it appeared, had lost their bachelor status in the past couple of months. He only hoped Pendragon was enjoying married life as much as he was himself.

Directing his horse down the street, crowded even at this early hour of the morning with pedestrians and conveyances of all descriptions, his thoughts went to Mallory.

He was glad he’d invited her to come with him to London. Already her eyes were alive with the fresh excitement of being in Town once again. Fleetingly, he’d wondered if she might grow melancholy over memories of her last visit, when she’d received the news of Hargreaves’s death. But to his relief, she seemed completely at her ease. In fact, she’d surprised him with her provocative banter in their bedchamber—her new boldness something he planned to encourage and enjoy.

He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he thought he sensed a change, a further deepening of the physical and emotional intimacy between them. Sometimes, when he gazed into her eyes, he could almost believe she loved him—really loved him—passionately and with her whole heart. Of course she never said the words, and maybe he was only imagining what he so earnestly wished to be true. Yet quite abruptly he had hope again that Mallory was indeed coming to love him.

Smiling to himself, he turned his horse south toward the Thames docks, where one of the merchants had a warehouse. If he concluded his business early, perhaps he’d make it home in time to accompany Mallory on her shopping excursion this afternoon. And mayhap tonight she might enjoy taking in a play; something entertaining was sure to be in the offing at Drury Lane.

Yes, he decided, their stay in Town was going to be a good one. And with Christmas approaching next month, their days here would give him a chance to search for a few gifts. At the thought, he remembered his promise on their honeymoon to buy her an array of necklaces from Rundell and Bridge—one for each day of the week. He knew she would balk at such an unnecessary extravagance, but mayhap instead he could have something extraordinary commissioned for her. Something that would take her very breath away.

Mentally adding a jeweler’s visit to his list of things to do this week, he continued on his way, humming a lighthearted tune under his breath.

Over the next few days, Mallory visited what seemed like half the stores in London, purchasing an array of items she knew she needed for Gresham Park and a bit more besides. Focusing on one room at a time, she bought furniture, carpets, draperies, vases and wall coverings. She ordered a wealth of necessities including candlesticks and chandeliers, fireplace tools, mirrors, linens, washbasins, dishes and glassware. She purchased paintings and books to replenish the woefully small collection in what had once been the library.

To her immense pleasure, she spent one afternoon visiting the Wedgwood showroom in St. James’s Square, where she commissioned the new formal china she’d been looking forward to having designed. After much consideration, she decided on a pattern that incorporated the Gresham crest with its ancient shield and heraldic banner done in gold on a ground of cream and regal blue. She bought a second china service with an elegant floral pattern that she and Adam would use on an everyday basis and on occasions when family came to visit.

Occasionally, when Adam wasn’t otherwise occupied with his own business appointments, he accompanied her on her outings. She found him to be an excellent companion, since he tended not to interfere and yet was willing to offer well-considered advice whenever she solicited it. Nor did he seem bored, as so many men were in such situations, or in a hurry to leave. He gave her as much time as she needed to shop, never making her feel rushed.

Once the shopping was done for the day, he would take her to Gunter’s Tea Shop for a treat, plying her with hot chocolate and buttered biscuits until she would laughingly tell him she couldn’t eat another bite.

With most of the Ton at their country estates, Society was thin this time of year, but Mallory didn’t mind. At present, she wasn’t much in the mood for parties and lavish entertainments. Instead, she preferred spending quiet evenings with Adam, either dining at home or taking in a play with only the two of them seated in their box.

This morning, before Adam left, he’d asked if she might like to attend the opera. Still abed, she’d managed to say yes in between kisses, the amorous antics that followed very nearly making him late for his meeting.