Authors: Brenda Joyce
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General, #Erotica
"No, that is
fine," Nicole said, flushing a little.
"You may change
anything you like, Nicole," the Duke said softly, so only she could hear.
He wanted to make it perfectly clear that her position as his wife and duchess
gave her a power, in her domain, commensurate with his. And perhaps, obliquely,
he wanted her to know that he himself was trying to please her. "You only
have to tell me, or Mrs. Veig or Woodward, what you wish to have done."
Nicole nodded, her eyes
wide upon his face.
He hesitated. There was
so much in her gaze, so much he was afraid to even consider what he saw. His
jaw tightened as the absurd thought of kissing her good bye welled in his mind.
It would not be a polite peck upon the cheek, either. It would be a rousing
display of passion. With great difficulty, he restrained himself.
But he regretted it all
day.
They rapidly settled
into a routine.
Nicole would awake at an
indecent hour, only to find that Hadrian was gone. Nicole would not see him
again until they met in the first-floor library before supper. She learned that
he rode out on his estates shortly after sunrise. Although he did return in the
afternoon, he secluded himself in his study, and Nicole thought it wiser not to
invade his sanctum, although she dearly would have loved to.
Thus Nicole had the day
to herself. After a leisurely bath—there being no need to hurry—Nicole dressed
with Mrs. Veig's unwitting guidance. She then descended from her suite to meet
with the chef to discuss the day's menus. This seemed to be of the utmost
importance to everyone. After that task, it did not seem as if there was
anything else that required her attention. Mrs. Veig and Woodward ran the staff
and the house with the utmost efficiency. Had Nicole wanted to intervene, or
supervise, she would not have known where to start. Her only other duty seemed
to be to decide what clothing to wear for the evening meal and to inform Annie,
so she could inform Mrs. Veig, who would then have the appropriate maid put it
in the press so it would be wrinkle-free when she was finally ready to dress.
Her circumstances were
too new for boredom to set in. The house was so vast that Nicole continued the
explorations she began on her first day. These explorations were
time-consuming. In the space of the several hours that
remained until dinner was served at
one, Nicole could not even cover an entire floor, and the mansion had seven.
It occurred to her that
she might have to spend the rest of her life exploring.
It also occurred to her
that it would be nice to join Hadrian as he made his rounds of his tenants and
agricultural and livestock operations.
She dashed such thoughts
from her mind. She did not have to ask to know that duchesses did
not
indulge
themselves in estate management. They probably didn't spend all of their time
exploring their own homes, either. But for the life of her, Nicole could not
figure out what they
did
do.
At one o'clock, she
dined alone. That first day she had been served her meal in the formal dining
room. The experience had been somewhat unnerving. The room was the length of
two tennis courts—and so was the dining table. She had sat at its foot, being
served a seven course meal by a bevy of servants, with Woodward hovering over
her to see to her every wish and whim. Unfortunately, Nicole was not a big
eater and she had no whimsical fancies. After that, she had requested she take
her midday meal in the music room, which was bright and cheery and, in
comparison to the monstrous dining hall, cozy. Hadrian had said, after all,
that she could do as she chose.
In the afternoons she
rode. The stablemaster was a gruff, short Irishman named William O'Henry. He
first insisted that she ride with an escort of six liveried servants. Nicole
had been dismayed at such a prospect. And because her husband had made it quite
clear that she might change anything that did not meet with her approval, she
insisted she ride alone. Mr. O'Henry had been aghast. Finally they had
compromised, but only because he insisted the Duke would have his head (and
dismiss him forthright) if he let her ride about the estate unattended. O'Henry
himself joined her. Nicole soon found she did not mind. The older man was a
true delight, not just being a master horseman, but a rather witty fellow as
well. He regaled her with tales of horsebreeding, racing and hunts, and had
more than a few amusing anecdotes to relate about several exceptionally
personable horses he had cared for in his long lifetime.
Nicole made sure to
return by five so that she would have plenty of time to dress for supper. That
first night she had Annie play the spy. The little maid had discreetly
discerned that the Duke did not dress for supper. To Nicole's relief, Annie
informed her that His Grace's attire was relaxed in the evening, consisting of
no more than a smoking jacket, trousers and slippers.
Very eager to see
Hadrian again after the night they had spent together, Nicole chose her attire
with care. She donned a casual gown of midnight blue, and carefully debated
whether to adorn herself with pearls or diamonds. Not wanting to appear too
formal, she finally decided against any jewelry except for a small pair of
earbobs and a cameo at her collar. She applied a light sweet scent to her
throat and wrists, and allowed two maids an hour to put up her hair in a style
that seemed artless and uncontrived.
The Duke was awaiting
her in the library. He seemed restless and impatient, but surely that could not
be, for Nicole arrived exactly at seven-thirty, although she had been ready a
half an hour earlier. To her complete dismay, she found her husband formally
dressed in a double-breasted black suit and tie. Somehow she had misunderstood,
or Annie had been misinformed. Nicole hoped that Hadrian would not think her
appearance terribly deficient.
The next evening she was
determined to be a proper duchess right down to the very last inch of her tall
frame. She wore a daringly low-cut and straight-silhouetted evening gown that
was the latest fashion and the height of sophistication. She wore it with all
of her diamonds, with sateen high-heeled shoes, and a matching evening bag. Her
hands were gloved and she carried a small, exquisite silk fan. Her hair had
taken two hours to do—and this time it was contrived. She would not make the
same mistake twice.
To her shock, Hadrian
greeted her in none other than his smoking jacket and slippers!
"It appears we are
at cross-purposes, Madam," he had commented dryly. But his eyes were
gleaming with frank admiration.
"Last night you
dressed," Nicole said breathlessly, unable to find the situation amusing,
not when she was the recipient of such a very male look—one laden with promise.
"Madam, last night
you chose
not
to dress."
She blinked. Suddenly
they both smiled. He came towards her. Even in his paisley smoking jacket, the
Duke was the epitome of a virile male. His strides were long, restless. A
highly charged sexual energy seemed to ripple visibly over his body. He handed
her a sherry. "Perhaps we should discuss this," he said. His tone was
not casual. It was low and suggestive.
Nicole wet her lips. She
would never again be immune to his nearness, his heat, his intent. "What
would you like me to do?"
"Ahh, need you ask
now?"
She flushed, recalling
the things he had guided her into doing last night, their second night of
ecstasy— things no decent woman should ever even suspect were possible between
lovers.
He came to her rescue,
one forefinger touching her cheek. "Forgive me. You distract me, Madam
Wife."
Nicole was faint with
pleasure.
"Would you like me
to go upstairs and change into more formal attire?" he asked, serious now.
She shook her head.
"I much prefer you like this."
He smiled, she smiled.
They had their first understanding.
They dined each night in
the formal dining room. It was a conversationless affair. The table seated
eighty. Nicole had counted the chairs the very first time she had taken a meal
there. Separated from her husband by such a vast space, she could not even hope
to carry on a conversation with him. The most she could do was steal
discreet—and not so discreet—glances at him, or be the recipient of his stares,
which became increasingly heated as the meal progressed. By the end of the week
Nicole decided it was time to insist they adjourn to a smaller room for their
supper. Hadrian was surprised at her request, but he also seemed, she thought,
pleased by it. Thereafter they dined in one of the smaller salons on the first
floor. And although conversation was now more than possible, there was little
of it. There was just too much tension between them.
For they both knew what
awaited them after dinner. A night of heated passion, of decadent indulgence.
Towards the end of the
first week, Nicole was thrilled to have her mother, Regina and Martha come
calling. Jane had sent a note asking Nicole if it would be all right to do so,
and Nicole had quickly reassured her that a visit would not be an unwelcome
intrusion. Martha's presence with her sister and mother was a wonderful
surprise. Nicole refrained from greeting them herself at the front door as she
would have liked to do. She was too aware of her changed status now, and too
concerned with being proper. Woodward escorted the trio into the airy music
room, and moments later Nicole made her entrance.
She was dressed in what
was casual attire considering her status, but the gold gown was the most
expensive moire with a lavishly scrolled contemporary motif, and it was in the
latest silhouette, which was quite straight and altogether daring. She also
wore the gift which Hadrian had given her the night before, a stunning ensemble
of diamond-encrusted topazes, and her hair was piled high in a very elegant
fashion. Her three guests gaped at her, speechless.
Nicole swept forward,
beaming and ecstatic to see everyone. "Mother! Regina! And Martha! How
glad I am that you have come!"
They exchanged hugs.
Martha recovered first, her gaze moving slowly over Nicole, and then the
furnishings. "My, my," she said, smiling. "Being a duchess
becomes you."
Nicole flushed with
pleasure. "I suspect that I must maintain appearances." She gestured
at her gown. "So far, there has been no one to see my efforts, though,
except for the staff."
"And your
husband," Martha said.
"He rises with the
sun and is gone shortly after. He returns sometime in the afternoon and locks
himself in his study until he must change for supper." But it was not a
complaint—she was smiling as she spoke.
Jane suddenly smiled.
"Have you had a change of heart, Nicole?"
"What a fool I have
been!" Nicole cried passionately. "How could I have been so stupid to
resist this marriage!"
"You are happy,
then?"
Nicole bit her lip.
"I have no pride left. I will admit the truth. I am more than happy, I am
ecstatic!"
Martha rose and rushed
to embrace her. "I am so glad!"
"Dear, I am so
happy for you!" Jane cried excitedly, also hugging her daughter.
Regina waited,
wide-eyed.
Nicole sombered.
"I am happy for you
too," Regina said, tears welling up in her beautiful golden eyes.
"Oh Rie!"
Nicole cried. "I hated fighting with you, I did!"
"I was being
selfish, not you," Regina said quaveringly. "It was not your fault
that Father was making me wait to marry."
"But I should have
known how you felt,'
v
Nicole protested. They gripped each other's
hands tightly.
"Are you in
love?" Regina whispered.
"Yes," Nicole
whispered back. "Yes, I am!"
Smiles wreathed the two
sisters' faces, and they hugged enthusiastically.
More embraces were
exchanged all around. When everyone had sat again, Nicole turned to Jane.
"Mother, how is Father?"
"He is fine. And he
shall be thrilled when I tell him how happy you are!"
"I am so sorry we
fought. He was right—as he usually is—in making me wed Hadrian. It is the best
thing that has ever happened to me!"
"Why don't you tell
him that?" Jane asked, pleased. "He misses you, darling. And he has
been so worried that he did not do the right thing."
"Before you leave,
I shall write him a letter," Nicole decided. "Please ask him to come
visit me soon."
The ladies began to talk
excitedly about Nicole's marriage and about the duties of a duchess. Nicole
finally said, "I think, in time, he might truly come to care for me. And
even if he doesn't, I think we will at least be friends. He is kind and
respectful. He is attentive. In fact, I think he is trying his best to please
me." She flushed again with pleasure.
"Just as you are
trying to please him," Martha pointed out, still unable to believe
Nicole's elegant appearance and subdued manner.
"Yes, I am,"
Nicole said. This time her blush was brought on by graphic memories of how she
attempted to please him in bed. There was no question that she had been
successful in that endeavor. She was rapidly becoming as skillful as a
courtesan, she decided. Last evening she had finally had the courage to do what
she had wanted to do from the very first night—to worship his body with her
hands and her mouth as he had worshipped hers. And afterwards Hadrian had held
her very tightly for a very long time.