“I shall let our mothers know of my arrival and that the wedding shall occur in the morning. Place those documents somewhere safe.”
With a quick pivot on his heel, Theodore left her there in the garden amongst the winter roses.
The breeze fanning her cheeks seemed chillier than any she’d felt all winter.
A repayment, perhaps, for her own betrayal.
Chapter 20
It was done.
They were wed.
After attending the traditional wedding breakfast, they now fulfilled their social obligation by taking tea in the Gold Parlor with their mothers, Reverend Hapstone and his wife, and Hawthorne Green’s closest neighbors, the elderly Earl and Countess of Dragmore.
Theodore lifted Lauren’s hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it while she chewed the corner of her lip in a gesture he’d discovered long ago indicated overwhelming nervousness.
His new wife was uncharacteristically quiet, notwithstanding the fact she’d become the new Countess of Hawthorne two hours prior to this moment. When he released her, she again stared at the huge, teardrop-shaped sapphire ring on her left hand. It was the ring he should have placed on her finger months ago, and a possessive thrill shot through him knowing she was finally, legally his wife.
She’d not had much to say since their chat in the garden the day before. He found himself reluctant to speak of the incident as well, and at dinner the previous evening, they were both content to allow their mothers to carry the conversation.
Theodore could not honestly say he wasn’t still angry. Lauren’s rapid decline into a state of mistrusting his motives hurt more than he wanted to admit. Knowing she’d wanted to hide her suspicions bothered him even more. He had no wish for his wife to keep anything from him, and he never wanted her too frightened to question his motives or offer opinions if she had different views.
But then, he’d not handled things very well either. In the face of her sincere apology, he’d stormed off like a spoiled child when he could have accepted it, and then apologized in turn for not understanding how she might take the gossip swirling around their scandalous elopement.
He sighed heavily, snaking an arm around her waist. Lauren gave him a startled glance, excusing herself from the lively conversation their mothers were currently having on how best to break the news to the ton.
“Countess, if you would like a bit of privacy, we can retire to our chambers. The others will not mind. In fact, it is probably expected.”
Lauren’s eyes widened a little, and for a breath, Theodore thought she might refuse. She stood silent for a long moment, then shyly nodded in agreement.
Theodore wasted no time in making their excuses, and as they made their departure, a round of applause erupted. Lauren flushed such a blazing shade of red it was possible she might be in danger of passing out. Her bouquet, a mix of the red winter roses and bright green and white mistletoe, trembled in her hand. Was she frightened of being alone with him, or truly embarrassed by the attention from their guests?
Shaking his head at Anne, who waited outside the parlor ready to assist her mistress at a moment’s notice, Theodore escorted Lauren to the base of the wide, curving staircase.
“I’ll handle things from here, Anne. Thank you, though.” He shot the maid a wink, which sent her into a blushing fit as well. “We’ll ring for you later to bring up a light meal.”
Lauren did not say a word, merely pressed her lips tighter and allowed Theodore to lead her up the marble stair treads. Once they reached his suite of rooms, Theodore tossed off his formal coat and raked a hand through his chestnut hair.
He allowed his gaze to roam over his little bride. She stood in the middle of the largest room, appearing both fascinated and apprehensive..
Theodore’s features softened. How he loved her. Even if she still mistrusted him, he still worshipped the ground she walked.
“You look so beautiful in that gown, Lauren. Stunning, in fact.”
Her eyes fell to the bodice of the dress and the tiny seed pearls decorating the bodice. “Thank you. It is really my wedding dress, the one I was supposed to wear before. Mother brought it with her from London.” Her fingers traced the lace trim of the veil in the coil of silky brown hair. Soft tendrils escaped the low chignon, teasing her neck and tempting his hands to stroke her skin. “The veil, too. I told her I did not need to wear it this morning, but she insisted.”
“I’m glad she did. It is perfection on you.” Theodore stepped closer, his forefinger grazing the line of her jaw and lifting her chin until she stared into his eyes. “May I help you disrobe?”
“Yes.”
She stood, waiting for him to decide how he would proceed. Slowly walking around her, he placed a hand at the curve of her waist and swept the filmy tulle of the veil aside and over her shoulder.
The back of the silk, ivory-hued dress consisted of a row of buttons matching the pearls decorating the bodice. There appeared to be two hundred of the little devils, and Lord only knew how his suddenly clumsy fingers might accomplish this task.
But he managed.
She released a sigh when he was done unfastening them all, and Theodore held back a groan as the next layer of garments came into view through the opened back. A creamy confection of a corset emerged as he helped Lauren carefully step out of the puddle of skirts. Matching silk stockings and tiny, bow-topped heeled slippers completed the vision of loveliness. She still held her bouquet, so he removed it from her hand. Before tossing it aside, he plucked a piece of mistletoe from its center.
He twirled her slowly so she faced him, his palm easing down her side until it rested on her curved hip.
“Lauren.”
The husky tone of his voice made her sway. Her eyes drifted shut then opened to lock on his. The grey shade of her irises was nearly obliterated by the darkness of the pupils, dilated as they were with arousal. He showed her the mistletoe, and her breath caught.
“A truth. I love you. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes, Theodore.” She swallowed, her hands lifting so that she cradled his face in her palms. “A truth. I love you. More than you can possibly know. I’m sorry for doubting you again. Will you forgive me?”
He kissed her softly as he tossed the mistletoe aside. “I will always forgive you if you will always forgive me, for we are bound to make mistakes, and there will be misunderstandings. But I swear to you, I will never stop loving you.”
“And I will never stop loving you.” She sighed as he pulled at the strings of the corset, loosening them until the boned structure fell away, revealing a thin, silky chemise beneath. Suppressing a growl, Theodore drew that over her head, careful not to disturb the veil. For some reason, the thought of her body partially concealed by the dream-like material was highly erotic, as was the idea of her keeping on the stockings and delicate shoes.
“Now that you are my wife, you should know I plan on thoroughly corrupting you within the confines of our bedroom.” He trailed a line of open-mouth kisses down her throat, scalding and persistent on the chosen path toward her breasts. Reaching one pale, pink tip, he sucked it deep into his mouth, groaning because she was as sweet as confectioner’s sugar on his tongue.
“I would be thoroughly disappointed if you did not.”
As she spoke, her hands tugged at his shirttails, pulling them free of his trousers before moving on to the button placket. After a few moments, Theodore tore himself away from suckling her breasts to quickly remove his garments. When Lauren moved to remove her veil and kick off her shoes, he stopped her, pulling her against the hard length of his body. She felt so good, his eyes closed against a wave of emotion.