Chapter One
Lord Richard Mansfield pressed his heels into the horse’s flanks, goading it viciously back into a gallop. After a moment, he let the beast slow slightly. He shouldn’t be taking his frustration out on Storm. It wasn’t the stallion’s fault, after all, that Richard couldn’t get the brown waves of Devona Montbatten’s hair out of his mind.
Try as he might to restrain them, his thoughts insisted on wondering whether the same gold highlights were strewn through the hair between her thighs. He felt his groin tighten at the very idea.
“Calm down, Richard,” he told himself. “Just one more day.” After tomorrow morning, he would be married to Devona and then this ridiculous abstinence would come to an end.
He was still amazed at the entire situation. The Montbatten girls, especially the two elder sisters, were quite well known in society for their lack of scruples when it came to entertaining their admirers. Out of the three of them, they had no doubt bedded half the aristocracy. Devona, unlike the other two, was at least discreet in her affairs. No one, to Richard’s recollection, had publicly claimed to have had her.
She had held out against Richard a long time. She was still holding out. No doubt she had seen her sisters’ fate and knew she had to marry before the same reputation caught up with her. All he had ever managed was a few brief kisses, after which she had ruthlessly pushed him away.
It was a very intelligent thing to do. After a few weeks, Richard had been yearning for her. He had thought when they were engaged, she would relent, but she had not. Now, the day before his last chance of escape, he was on fire, and had no thought of struggling. Devona’s slightly plump body would provide many, many nights, even years, of pleasure. She had a keen mind as well, which would fill those days not taken up with even more lovemaking. And unlike Rose and Lily, she might make a decent mother when it was time to produce an heir. Yes, all things considered, she wasn’t a bad choice at all.
She would be faithful too. At least, she would if he had anything to do with it. He’d tie her to the bed, if he had to. He felt a stirring at that idea, as well. Damn it! Would the day never end? He had to hold out until tomorrow. The wedding would be over by noon at the latest, and he would take her immediately to bed and not leave for a week.
He was swiftly earning himself an uncomfortable erection. He turned the horse toward home. Why was he even waiting? Surely she knew she had snagged him. They were to be married in the morning.
He resolved immediately. He would drop by to see if he could get her out of her house. Perhaps to Vauxhall Gardens. The secluded paths there would be perfect for a hasty pre-nuptial coupling. Then he could relax and make it through the ceremony without exploding.
It might be hard to get her mother to let her come alone. Unlike her daughters, Mrs. Edwina Montbatten was as frigid as the grave. Perhaps he could find some companions to lend at least a veneer of respectability. Harry Turbell, he knew, was shagging Rose and would be happy for an opportunity to see her. That would solve everything. He would go straight to the Montbattens’ and arrange to pick them up this evening.
Richard let out a heavy breath, shifting in the saddle. He felt a little better already.
*
Hearing the drawing room door open, I looked up from my book. The parlourmaid curtsied and announced, “Lord Richard Mansfield.”
I smiled as my eyes met those of my husband to be. Setting the book aside, I rose from my chair to greet him. He deposited a brief kiss onto my cheek, gave my older sisters, Rose and Lily, a brief nod, which they returned with flirtatious smiles, then moved to take my mother’s hand in greeting. Mama, setting aside the needlework she was performing on my veil, looked quite pleased with herself, as she always did when she thought of my impending marriage. Our family was poor and without rank; the advantage of the match was entirely on my side.
“I understand you must be busy with plans for tomorrow’s ceremony.” Richard told Mama, smiling. “But I was hoping for the company of you and your daughters at Vauxhall Gardens this evening, if you can find the time. I was thinking of organizing a small party.”
Mama smiled in return. “I’m afraid I have simply too much work to do, and I’ve made Lily promise to help, but I’m sure Devona and Rose would be pleased to join your group.”
Richard glanced at me. “Excellent. I have a few things left to arrange, if you’ll excuse me.”
“Of course.”
Richard crossed back to me and bent to kiss my cheek. This time, however, his mouth also touched my neck as his hand found my waist, then slid deliberately down to my hip. “Until tonight,” he whispered thickly.
Bowing to my sisters and mother, he quickly took his leave. Mama looked carefully at the door for a long time after it had closed behind him, then shot a glance to my sisters. “Lily, Rose, I want to talk to your sister alone.”
Years of experience with Mama ushered my sisters out the door. Mama set aside my veil, smoothing it once or twice. She didn’t look at me as she began quietly, “I intended to have this discussion with you tomorrow morning, but I suppose it’s best to get it over with.”
With a few clinical words, she described what would be “expected” of me after the ceremony, or rather this evening, if Richard’s behaviour was indicative of his plans.
Though I knew more than Mama seemed to assume, it was still disconcerting to hear the act I had occasionally read of described in such plain terms. Was that really what would happen? I shuddered at the thought of the pain she described.
“...but he’ll want to think you’re enjoying it. So you must pant and sigh, as if you take pleasure in all of this.”
She looked up at me. My face felt deathly pale. The concern flooded her eyes. “Just lie still darling, and it will be over quickly.” She reached over and patted my knee. “Now go put on a pretty frock for your fiancé.”
Trying to control the trembling in my knees, I moved up to my room. Sitting on the bed, I put my head into my hands. Until this moment, I had always seen my future with Richard as a kind of higher friendship, only vaguely aware of the physical aspect. Now, it had rushed in on me, shaking my very foundations. I had always assumed he employed a mistress for such things. But of course, Richard would want an heir to continue the line. It was silly of me not to think of it earlier.
The few times he had kissed me, I had been unable to do anything but nervously push him back. Thankfully, he hadn’t pressed, but now his patience had run out. Wrapping my arms around my chest, I faced the facts. Tonight, I would be forced to lie with man. With Richard. A vision of my fiancé rose up before me, intimidating, nearly frightening: half a foot taller than me, with broad shoulders and strong arms that could crush me easily, Richard was not a man to be denied.
I must have sat with my thoughts for over an hour, for the next thing I knew, Rose had knocked on the door and slipped inside. She was dressed in a provocatively low-cut blue gown. A scarlet domino cape was draped over her arm, and she held her loo-mask in her hand. Rose had been to Vauxhall Gardens several times, and claimed to know the secluded walks blindfolded.
Catching sight of me, she looked immediately concern. “Devona, what is it?” she asked, coming across the room to put her arms around me. “Are you ill?”
I wanted desperately to confide in my sister, but I knew she wouldn’t understand. I shook my head. “I’m just nervous about tomorrow.”