The Earl’s Bluestocking Bride (Unconventional Brides #2)

Chapter 29

CHAPTER 29

She did, she realized.

She believed him.

As far as she knew, Andrew had never lied to her. He may have omitted the truth at times, but he hadn’t lied. So if he said he loved her now, she had no reason to doubt him. If she continued to hold herself back out of some misguided need to protect herself, she would be hurting not only herself but him too.

“I believe you,” she whispered, holding his gaze. Flecks of gold twinkled in the depths of his irises. They were magical. Just like him. “And I love you too.”

His face lit up. “You mean that?”

“Of course I do.” She kissed him chastely. “How could I not? You believed in me all along. You encouraged me and supported me. You really see me in a way no one else ever has. I never stood a chance against you.”

He cradled her face in his hands. “I will always be there for you, and I will do everything in my power to be worthy of you.”

“You already are.”

He brushed a kiss over her lips and then her forehead. She closed her eyes, savoring the soft caress that filled her with a sense of warmth and comfort.

“So.” She opened her eyes and tried to clear her thoughts. “Do you still want to leave for Suffolk? You know that it won’t do as much to quell the gossip, considering that she turned up here.”

Andrew laughed. “My practical countess. Always thinking ahead.”

Her lips twisted wryly. “You love me. You just said so.”

“I did,” he agreed. “And I wouldn’t have you any other way. Yes, sweetheart, I want to take you to Suffolk and show you where I grew up. I want to walk with you through the meadows I played in as a child and introduce you to the people who’ve known me my whole life.”

Her heart beat a rapid rhythm. “I’d like that.”

“I know.”

She was about to open her mouth to protest being called predictable, but he stopped her with a finger to her lips.

“You’re always so eager to discover new places,” he continued. “Your fascination with the world around you is one of the things I love about you.”

She softened. “Well, I love your kindness and generosity of spirit.”

For a long moment, they gazed into each other’s eyes. Then Andrew jerked his thumb toward the door.

“Do you really want to spend the evening at our ball?” he asked.

She narrowed her eyes. “No. I never particularly liked balls, and especially not after what just happened. They’re bound to be gossiping already. But my parents are there, and so is your mother. Not to mention half the ton. We can’t just leave.”

“Can’t we?” His eyes gleamed. “It’s our ball. That means we get to make all the decisions. I say we hand off host duties to my mother—or to yours, who’d no doubt be thrilled with the responsibility—and then retreat to the bedchamber and celebrate properly.”

She caught her lower lip between her teeth. His offer was so tempting, but surely it would be wrong to go along with it when this ball was supposed to be their social salvation.

“I want to,” she admitted, leaning closer and breathing him in. “But it would be irresponsible.”

“So be irresponsible,” he whispered in her ear. “You and I have made too many decisions for the sake of others. This time, let’s be selfish.”

She drew back, looking up at him. Excitement simmered in her gut. “Really?”

He nodded, his expression serious despite the sparkle in his eyes. “Really.”

She inhaled deeply. “Let’s.”

He kissed the top of her head and threaded his fingers through hers. “If we talk to my mother right now, we can escape again in only a few minutes. Don’t make eye contact with anyone or stop if they call your name. We’re on a mission. All right?”

She giggled, feeling lighter than she had in weeks. “I have tunnel vision. I will see and hear no one but your mother.”

“Excellent.”

Hand in hand, they strolled out of the office. Neither the duke nor Miss Giles were in the foyer, so Amelia assumed that she’d already left and he had returned to the ballroom.

As soon as they reached the doorway, a hush descended on the guests. The music kept playing, and the dancers continued dancing, but all the other guests’ eyes were on them.

Amelia shivered. It wasn’t the most pleasant sensation—especially not when she doubted they were thinking anything kind. But she held her chin high, kept her hand intertwined with Andrew’s, and searched the gathering for Lady Drake.

“To the left of the dancers,” she murmured. “Standing with the duke.”

“I see her,” he replied. “Don’t forget what I said.”

“I won’t.”

The crowd parted as they entered the room. Amelia heard someone say her name, but she didn’t acknowledge them. A gentleman in a pink-and-gold waistcoat stepped in front of them, but Andrew whisked her around him. As they arrived at Lady Drake’s side, the hush abated, and conversation rippled through the room.

“Mother.” Andrew leaned close so no one could overhear them. “Would you consider acting as hostess in our stead while Amelia and I retire? It’s been a particularly trying evening. You’re welcome to pass on the duty to Mr. and Mrs. Hart, if you’d prefer.”

Lady Drake glanced between them, her brows furrowed, her concern obvious. “Are you all right?”

His grip on her hand tightened. “We will be.”

She nodded. “Good. I would be happy to stand in your stead, and I’m sure the Harts will be amenable to helping.”

They’d better be, Amelia thought, considering Mother was the one who wanted this ball to begin with.

Yes, it had ended up being convenient in terms of attempting to combat the rumors, but she’d still never have planned a ball without encouragement from Mrs. Hart and Andrew.

Amelia turned to the duke. “Thank you for standing by me, Your Grace.”

He bowed. “I will happily be your second whenever the role requires filling.” His lips twitched. “Although I’d rather we avoid any duels. My wife would have my head if I were injured.”

She laughed. “I don’t intend on challenging Miss Giles to pistols at dawn, so I think you’re safe on that front.”

“We will bid you adieu,” Andrew said. “Ashford, I know how much you dislike these affairs. Please don’t feel any need to linger on our account. We very much appreciate you making the effort to be here.”

The duke inclined his head, and from his expression, she didn’t think it would be long before he excused himself.

Andrew escorted Amelia back to the entrance. This time, fewer people paid them attention, although they did have to avoid a few wandering hands as guests tried to stop them for a quick word.

When they stood in the doorway, Andrew took Amelia by the hips and pulled her close. Her breath caught, and the back of her neck prickled with awareness. No one ever behaved so intimately in the public setting of a ball.

“May I?” he asked, curving his hand around between her shoulder blades and tipping her backward.

“Yes,” she breathed, her eyes locked on his.

He kissed her.

Right there, in front of everyone.

Their lips parted, and he swallowed up her gasp and deepened the kiss. His tongue swept along hers.

How perfectly scandalous.

Someone whistled, and they broke apart. Her cheeks were burning, and she knew she must be bright red, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret the kiss. Now all of these people knew he desired her. They would see that the Earl and Countess of Longley were married and very much in love.

It was heady.

Her mind was in a daze as Andrew led her out of the ballroom and into the corridor. He started to guide her toward the staircase, but a wicked idea occurred to her, and she stopped him.

“What is it, my love?” he asked.

With a mischievous grin, she glanced toward his office. “ This dress might be rather difficult to get out of, and I find myself too impatient to wait.”

“I’m intrigued.” He drew her knuckles to his lips. “What are you suggesting?”

She looked around and, certain they were alone, whispered, “You and me in your office.”

His eyebrows shot up. “You won’t be uncomfortable?”

She hesitated. “You’ll lock the door?”

She loved the idea of being intimate with him while so many of their peers mingled nearby, none the wiser, but she didn’t actually want anyone to walk in on them.

“Of course. If that’s what you want?”

Her shoulders relaxed. “It is.”

Decision made, they hurried to the office. She entered first, and he pushed her against the door. It clicked shut, and he turned the key, pinning her body against the wood.

Her breath came in short bursts. For some reason, the feeling of his powerful frame trapping her in place lit something up inside her. She angled her hips, seeking friction. He pushed his erection against her, sending a delicious zap of pleasure along her nerve endings.

He buried his face in the crook of her shoulder, his lips skimming along the sensitive skin. She shivered.

“So sweet,” he murmured before biting lightly into the flesh.

She moaned. Part of her wanted him to bite harder and mark her. Such a bruise couldn’t be dismissed as anything other than what it was: proof of his desire for her.

“You like that?” he asked, scraping his teeth over the delicate skin of her throat and nipping at the edge of her jaw.

“Mm-hmm.” She ground against his hard cock, wishing the layers of her dress and his breeches were gone.

His lips tickled her as they curved into a smile. “My wanton wife.”

“Only for you,” she whispered. There was no one else she’d ever trust enough to be like this with. No one else she’d want to be so intimate with.

“Yes.” He sucked on her pulse point. “Mine.”

She whimpered, then rolled them both so his back was against the door and she stood in front of him. She kissed the side of his neck, then sucked—hard—watching with delight as a red patch blossomed. A sign that he was hers as well.

Only hers.

“I am,” he murmured, and she realized she’d said it aloud.

She blushed but didn’t take it back.

“My countess.” He cupped her face and kissed her. “I’m going to sit you on that desk, hike up your skirts, and completely and utterly own you. Any objections?”

She blinked at him, hardly able to think beyond the thick fog of need that had descended over her. “No.”

“No?” He frowned.

“No objections.”

“Thank God.”

He bent and swept her into his arms, the movement made awkward because of the voluminousness of her skirts, but he didn’t allow that to deter him. He carried her to the desk and set her down carefully. She shifted her bottom until she was sure she wouldn’t fall and spread her thighs.

His eyes flashed, the gold flaring brighter than ever. “In case it isn’t obvious, we’re amending the agreement. If any other man ever lays a hand on you, it will be pistols at dawn.”

She smirked. “As long as the same rule applies to you, then I see no issue with that.”

“With this kiss, I bind you to me.” He hesitated for just long enough for her to disagree.

When she didn’t, he kissed her.

She dragged her fingers down his chest. “With this touch, I thee worship.”

A shudder rolled through him, and he dropped to his knees. He lifted her skirt and ducked beneath it. A moment later, his breath whispered over her most intimate place. She felt him grab the waistband of her undergarments and ease them down; then he pressed a kiss to her.

She leaned back, her palms on the wood of the desk, supporting herself. Unable to see Andrew, she had no idea what he might do next. When his mouth fastened over her and his tongue gently probed her core, she jolted and gasped.

“Mm. Sweet.” He teased her with his lips and tongue, circling around her bud, winding her tighter and tighter but never quite giving her enough.

She whimpered and thrust her hips forward, silently begging for more. Eventually, there was a slight pressure, and then one of his fingers slipped inside her. His tongue continued to circle her, driving her out of her mind. He crooked his finger, and she cried out.

“Shh,” he teased. “We wouldn’t want anyone to hear us.”

He ducked out from beneath her skirts, and heat blasted through her at the sight of him. Lips damp, eyes bright, hair mussed. He looked delightfully rumpled.

“You still want this?” he asked, moving closer, his hands dropping to the desk as he caged her in.

“Yes. More than anything.”

His pupils dilated, swallowing up the irises until only a thin band of color remained. “I love you so much.”

Emotion tightened her throat. “I love you too.”

With shaking hands, he undid his belt and lowered his breeches. His undergarment followed, and he stepped out of them, then grabbed the layers of her skirt and lifted them up around her waist. He shifted forward, the hair on his thighs scraping against the tender insides of her legs as he made his way to that hot, wanting part of her.

“Do it,” she murmured, parting her thighs to reveal herself to him. “I need you.”

“Fuck.” A shudder rolled through him. “Easy, love. Too much of that and I won’t last. ”

She grinned. “Then don’t. We have all night.”

She didn’t know what was making her so brazen, but she never wanted it to end.

He fitted himself against her and pressed in. Her eyes widened as he filled her, and she exhaled slowly, allowing her muscles to relax. He held her gaze the entire time.

When he was deep within her, he began to rock. Just small movements at first, seating himself deeper and nudging her bud over and over again.

With one hand remaining in place behind her, she grabbed him with the other and yanked him toward her. “More.”

His lips curved. “If you insist.”

He drew out in one smooth motion and thrust back in so hard, her vision nearly whited out.

“Oh,” she cried.

She needed more of that. Now.

Wrapping her legs around him, she urged him to do it again.

He did, and her head fell back, her mouth open, as starbursts of color exploded before her eyes.

She was so close. So close. Teetering on the brink. Just one more and…

He drove into her again, and she shattered, calling out his name. Pleasure like none she’d ever experienced turned her limbs languid even as she trembled from the overwhelming intensity, completely out of control of her own body.

“Fuck.”

His hands slid beneath her bottom, and he lifted her against him. She clutched his shoulders as he thrust relentlessly into her, then groaned, rapture stealing across his face as he released within her.

Thankfully, he set her down before his legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the desk chair, his breeches still around his ankles.

“Wow.” He patted his lap. “Come here.”

Amelia lowered her feet to the floor, padded over to him, and sat. He wrapped his arm around her waist and held her close. She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes as contentment washed over her.

They were quiet, but it was peaceful and perfect. Amelia smiled to herself. When she’d proposed her practical marriage to Andrew, she’d never have dreamed that she could be so happy with him—and have her writing too.

This was not at all how she’d foreseen the future playing out, but for once, she couldn’t be more pleased that nothing had gone according to plan.