“You mean, you don’t know?”
“No?”
“Are you asking or telling?”
“Emma, stop confusing me, I have no idea what you were doing in the cabin, just that it was assumed you met John there to ruin yourself.”
Laughter seemed to escape Emma again. “You married me based on your enemy’s word that I wasn’t ruined?”
Sebastian paused. “I love you. Of course I did.”
Sighing, Emma kissed him across his bare chest. “I was dancing.”
The air crackled with excitement. “Dancing?”
“Mmm, dancing – like a gypsy.”
“Oh, saints above. Do you still know…”
Moving her hips ever so slightly, she giggled and then raised her hands. Though she was lying down, she was convinced he fully understood the answer to that question.
“Oh, Sebastian?” Breathlessly she waited for his response as he peeled the blankets from her warm body, exposing her flesh to his eyes as well as the cold of the night.
“Mmm…what is it?” Distracted man.
“Your grandmother suggested I seduce you.”
“And that should shock me because?” he asked, now apparently fascinated with the way her arm curved around his neck as he kissed her shoulder.
“Because I tried.”
He stilled. “I’m sorry. You tried to drive me mad with lust?”
Guiltily she nodded.
“This wouldn’t by any chance have anything to do with the visit you paid to my room, would it?”
Emma looked away.
“Well.” Sebastian pulled the blankets entirely from her body. “I think it goes without saying that you should be punished.”
“And how, pray tell, are you going to punish me?”
Wicked intent gleamed in his eyes. “You have the rest of the night to find out, my sweet.”
And she did. Oh how she did.
****
Odd the feeling one gets when he’s married. Sebastian couldn’t wipe the smug grin off his face if he tried. Pride had a little to do with it, sure. He was proud to have Emma as a wife, and proud he had spent most the night pleasuring his wife all the while trying to figure out why he hadn’t married her sooner.
Emma had snorted and said because most men are idiots.
Considering the circumstances, he had to agree, though he would never admit it to anyone.
Their carriage came to a halt in front of Renwick House. Sebastian was more than excited to bring Emma inside. She was in desperate need of her belongings as well as a new dress, and well, he was in desperate need of Emma. But somehow the thought of him and his wife christening any of the rooms underneath Nicholas’s ownership felt slightly wrong. So he managed to arrange for Emma to move her things into his townhome as soon as possible. His sister and her two friends would most likely still be in attendance, but this time he wasn’t a lone bachelor under the roof with three green girls. He was with his wife. The new Duchess of Tempest.
Oh how he longed for the season to be over so he could take her to his estate in Somerset. Groves Castle would be a fairy tale to Emma.
He helped Emma out of the carriage, smiling as her eyes scanned his body appreciatively. Yes, marriage was good.
Feeling the sudden urge to hum, he hooked her arm within his and walked along beside her, nearly skipping as they knocked on the door.
Naturally they were ushered in immediately.
The salon was empty. Sebastian used the opportunity to kiss Emma on the mouth. How was it she always tasted so good?
And then he heard a throat clear.
Turning, he bit back a curse as Nicholas stood at the door, arms crossed. “Found her, did you?”
Sebastian’s brain worked slowly, how exactly did one explain anything to Nicholas? All brooding and dark at the doorway. Sebastian had a half a mind to wait until Sara entered before telling his friend he had, in fact, married Emma sooner rather than later.
“Oh, Emma!” Sara burst into the room and pulled Emma into a hug.
Samuel was close behind. “Your grace, your grace!” The chubby little fellow ran at Sebastian full speed. Wondering if he should brace for impact, he readied his body as much as possible as Samuel clamped onto his leg in a fierce hug. “And Miss Emma!” He hugged her leg too, then stood between the two of them hands on hips. “Your grace?”
“Yes, Samuel?” Sebastian took a knee.
“Emma’s not sad anymore. What did you do to make her not sad anymore?”
Emma gasped then started choking with laughter while Sebastian met the steely eyes of Nicholas Renwick. Samuel, innocent chap he was, stood there awaiting an answer.
“I—I love her, Samuel. That makes Emma happy.”
He shrugged then looked perplexed as if love had never occurred to him. “Oh,” he said, then exited the room.
The minute Samuel left, Nicholas closed the doors. “If you compromised her before we had a chance to announce your marriage or get you married. If you ruined her, Seb, I’ll—”
“We’re married!” Emma announced, throwing her arms around Sara’s neck.
Nicholas’s eyes darted to Sebastian’s. “Is that true? You married her? You—oh, I need to sit.” Nicholas sat on the nearby chair. “You, the Good Duke of Tempest, eloped to Gretna Green?”
Sara patted Nicholas on the arm. “Honestly, Nicholas. I don’t see a need to be so dramatic. They are in love, and it was what was best for Emma at the time.” She shook her head in reproach then grinned. “Emma, are you going to Somerset then? I hear the family seat is beautiful, it’s—”
“They must announce it at the ball before they go anywhere.”
“It?” Sebastian asked.
“Your marriage, of course. Otherwise people will think you had to get married.”
Sebastian felt himself get angry. “And why should it matter? I have no care for my reputation.”
“It wasn’t your reputation I was thinking of, but your duchess’s.” Nicholas stepped to the desk where the invitations sat. “I also believe your grandmother would be pleased to have your bride introduced at one of the Season’s balls. You know she’ll just follow you to Somerset if you don’t.” Nicholas grinned. “Aha! Here it is. We haven’t yet accepted, but I think it shall be the best ball to attend.”
Emma approached Nicholas. “Which ball?”
Nicholas’s eyes flashed to Sebastian’s before once again resting on Emma’s. “The Von Olversteen Masquerade ball.”
“But…” Emma backed away. “That’s the ball my parents—”
“It’s the only one they said they would be attending this Season, yes,” Nicholas finished. “And it’s about time they realize the prize they have in their possession. And now a duchess. What do you say, Sebastian?”
All eyes were on him. Swelling with pride yet again, he reached out and pulled Emma into his arms. “I think it’s one of the best ideas I’ve heard from you yet.”
Sara snorted. “Ah yes, quite an accomplishment on Nicholas’s part.”
“I’ll ignore that,” Nicholas said, smiling.
Emma cleared her throat. “Does everyone know?”
The room stayed silent; nobody dared make eye contact with her.
Sara was the first to speak. “Know what?”
“Has the ton caught wind of the scandal at Rawlings country estate?”
Nicholas’s and Sara’s faces were answer enough.
“And what of my previous scandal?”
“Rawlings will take it to his grave, as will the rest of us.” Sebastian stepped forward and rested a hand on Emma’s shoulder. “It is best we face everyone as soon as possible, Emma. Trust me, I do have a plan.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
“Gowns, we need gowns,” Sara said as they entered the shop. “I do hope she can make you something extravagant, given only three days.”
“Sebastian’s money and his title should be enough, don’t you think?” Emma asked, closely following Sara.
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Sara nudged Emma in the ribs. “I do think it’s rather sporting that the men would come along with us.”
Emma held in her laughter as she watched Nicholas and Sebastian push through the doorway as if they were crossing to the gallows. Every step made was calculated as to not touch any of the fabric or, God forbid, they might turn into women.
“Yes,” Emma agreed. “Rather sporting.” Her husband of a few days was now squinting at fabrics as if trying to make out how they could possibly form it into a dress. Maybe having them tag along was a bad idea. After all, men didn’t belong at a modiste’s shop. Then again, Sebastian felt she might need the extra pull that only a duke, and an arrogant one at that, could bring. Relenting, she’d told him he could come if he was quick about his decisions and then left with Nicholas to go to Whites.
He had agreed, but the way he was staring at the fabric made Emma again wonder if he had any idea what type of dress he wanted his future duchess wearing at their first ball.
“Seb?”
His eyes snapped up. “Hmm?”
“This isn’t necessary…”
Just then, the owner of the shop walked up, only she pushed past Sara and ignored Emma, recognizing immediately the Angel Duke of Tempest, naturally.
“Your grace.” She curtsied. “It’s been reported you have a new duchess, I’ve been expecting your visit. I assume you are in need of a wardrobe fit for a duchess. When would you like to have her stop by? Naturally, I would be more than happy to make a house call, if his grace is so inclined.”
Emma tried not to be put off as the lady continued to ignore her and Sara, but it was aggravating to say the least.
Smiling, Sebastian reached out and grasped the lady’s hand and lifted it to his lips in a feather-light kiss. “Ah, you do me great honor, but why don’t you help these ladies first?” He pointed to Sara and Emma. “I shall wait, of course.”
Appalled, the lady made a clicking noise with her tongue and shook her head. “Your grace, they are nothing, merely shopping. I will help my important guests first.”
“Truly?” he asked.
“Yes.” Her head snapped in affirmation.
“Well then, I’m sorry to be a bother.” He turned his attention fully to Emma. “It appears we will have to find another shop, my dear.”
The owner blanched then looked between the two, trying to do an awkward curtsy before nearly tripping on her own feet as she ran to grab a measuring tape. “My sincere apologies; I did not know. Your graces, I will do my utmost to dress the future duchess in such a way nobody would dare ignore her.”
Sebastian grinned, locking his eyes with Emma. “Good, now get on with it.”
As the owner scurried away to ready a room, Emma poked Sebastian in the chest. “You did that on purpose!”
Nicholas laughed in the background, apparently enjoying the entertainment.
Sebastian didn’t deny it. “Of course I did. I wanted her full attention, and now she will try even harder to please you.”
Emma wanted to be cross with him, but he was being sweet, and it did seem to be working as all four of them watched the dress shop owner scurry around in a frenzy trying to get materials ready for her own personal viewing.
“Have fun,” Sebastian whispered in her ear. And he and Nicholas were out the door.
****
The day of the ball arrived. Emma would be lying if she said she was anything but dizzy with nerves. The dress had been delivered only that morning and with it a personalized note from the owner of the shop.
“Shine,” it said.
One word.
Emma felt ill. Lifting her eyes to the mirror, she gasped at her reflection. Needing to be alone, she had excused all the maids from her room, yet the whole time they were readying her she hadn’t the nerve to look at herself in the mirror. What if it wasn’t what she thought? What if the dress was a disappointment? Or a disaster? She wanted more than anything to make Sebastian proud this night. And yes, a small part of her wanted her parents to be proud and envious of the man at her side.
Steadying herself, she took a few deep breaths then heard a knock on the door. “Come in.”
Sebastian stood at the door, his eyes trained on her face, then ever so slowly they caressed the rest of her body paying special attention to her bosom. Feeling naked she almost wrapped her arms around herself. Never had a man looked at her so openly or sensually.
“Are you entirely sure you want to go to the ball?” he asked once he reached her side. “This dress…”
“Is it terrible?”
“Yes.” Sebastian nipped her neck with his teeth. “Remove it immediately, before I rip it away from your body.
Laughing, she pushed him away. “Sebastian! Stop.”
He was pawing at the back, trying to remove the dress as he kissed her neck and nipped with his teeth. Insufferable man.
“Husband! Angel duke?” At this she lifted her eyebrow. “We will be late! Now tell me the words I need to hear so I can have courage tonight.”
“Beautiful, stunning, perfect, and most of all, mine.”
Emma had to look away to swallow the lump in her throat.
“And, Emma? It will be fine, I promise you.”
Nodding her head she allowed a single tear to escape, then promptly followed him out, glancing one last time at the mirror.
****
Sebastian hadn’t been joking. His desire for his wife was so powerful he wanted nothing more than to rip the dress she was currently wearing until scraps of it were scattered about the floor before sufficiently rendering her boneless and whetting his own appetite, tasting and exploring every inch of her until she begged him to stop.
Thinking about it was doing nothing to make his mood any lighter. The idea of going to a ball just to please the ton all at once seemed admirable. It felt more of a nuisance, especially given the dress currently hanging on her body.
Blue satin wrapped around her curves and gathered at the back where the material scooped scandalously low, he found himself more than once stealing a glance at the amount of skin exposed on her backside. It might be wise for him to walk behind her, given a man’s tendency to stare, and he had no problem being the only one with a view. He only prayed he wouldn’t have to kill any idiotic gentleman who had an itch to prolong his stare.
Emma flashed him a devastating smile before entering the carriage. It was entirely possible that it would be a long night for the angel duke. One spent guarding his wife from young puppies and rakes.
But even before protecting her, what he wanted most was to dance.
****
They arrived at the ball late, which was exactly how Sebastian had planned it. Not wanting the majority of the ton to be distracted when they made their entrance, he gave their names and smiled when they were announced.
Emma, however, was not pleased. “Why didn’t they introduce us as married?”
Sebastian had known it would cause some momentary pain, but the plan he had was for Emma to truly see how much he cherished the woman she was. Not only was he proud of her, he would cause more scandal in order to have her.
“Trust me.”
As they walked by, people whispered her name. He felt Emma tense underneath his touch.
“I’ll just be a minute, Emma,” he said, leaving her alone.
He walked over to his grandmother, though he kept an eye on Emma as people gave her the obvious cut direct. Being with him had only de-clawed some of the ton, but the majority of them were now ignoring her completely. Emma kept her head high. He wanted to applaud her as she continued to try to be polite even when others shunned her.
The dowager duchess seemed to be waiting for him, an odd smile on her lips. “I see she was successful, then?”
“Grandmother?”
“In seducing you. Don’t think my eyes are too weak to notice the way you were stealing glances at her just now. So when is the wedding?”
“A few days…ago.”
The d
owager laughed, gaining the attention of many, though no one seemed at all bothered. “So why have you not introduced her as your new duchess?”
“To prove myself to her.”
“And how exactly is not introducing her proving yourself, my boy?”
“You’ll see.”
With that he took his leave and approached Emma. Her face was strained. “Sebastian, I can’t do this. I can’t be married to you, not with everyone watching and judging. I can’t hurt your reputation. It’s not fair.”
“Emma, look at me.”
She raised her eyes.
“I love you, just a few minutes more, and you will see what I have in store for you.”
Nodding, she pasted another smile on her face. Suddenly her eyes bugged as if she was surely seeing a ghost. The crowd parted, revealing an older man and woman staring intently at Emma.
“My parents,” she said under her breath. He tightened his hold on her arm and led her straight to them. “Are you sure?”
“Quite,” he said, feeling more agitated than he thought he would. Her father seemed dignified enough with graying hair and a young-looking face, though Sebastian could tell he had an appetite for spirits and fine food, considering his overall girth.
Her mother, on the other hand, looked exactly like Emma. Reaching out, he grabbed her outstretched glove and kissed the air above it. “I’ve been waiting for quite a while to meet the parents of Lady Gates.”
“Yes, well,” her father said, still avoiding eye contact with Emma, making Sebastian want to throw a punch.
Her mother grasped at Emma’s hands. “Have you been well, dear? We heard about the little game you played, faking an engagement.”
Genuine sadness behind her mother’s eyes forced Sebastian’s anger to soften, but only slightly. Emma nodded and pulled her mom in for a hug.
“Well then,” Sebastian said. “I was just going to ask Emma to dance. You wouldn’t mind would you, Lord Gates?”