The Wallflower's Wicked Wager (The Wallflower Wins Book 2) Page 13

  No, she was going to take it with open arms, and she was going to take Gideon because he seemed to care so much about her.

  And God help her, she cared about him.

  She was throwing herself into the unknown now without fear. One had to be bold in this life if they wished to find happiness. Of that she was now certain. After all, she never would have come to Scotland if she had not been bold. She never would have chosen to become a governess, to go and write, and to experience something new.

  So now she was going to embrace her love for him and this new chapter and everything that it could bring. Come what may.

  Chapter 17

  Much to Helena’s delight, Duncan kept repeating, “I knew it! I knew it!”

  In fact, he’d declared it at least once an hour, and he had been saying it since the wedding ended this morning.

  It was perhaps the most wonderful vindication of the choice that she and Gideon had made.

  The young boy was filled with joy that the two of them had said their vows in the kirk when the morning dew had still been upon the heather.

  Hamish and Alistair seemed just as happy, throwing flower petals, cheering, calling her one of the family, and insisting that she’d never escaped them!

  She did not wish to.

  She never would.

  She couldn’t imagine wanting to leave the glens and lochs of Scotland, nor the boys that had stolen her heart.

  Much to her great relief, his mother had seemed most pleased too. Lady Carmondy had joined the boys in throwing ivory flower petals this morning. A sense of serenity had overtaken her, as if she could now trust that all would be well with the world.

  In fact, Lady Carmondy had worn a peaceful and pleased smile since the moment she and Gideon had broken the news to her.

  Even now, Lady Carmondy sent Helena a look of pure approval as she walked along with the boys.

  Helena had been quite concerned that Lady Carmondy would be most upset about the whole affair.

  But this morning, it had been Lady Carmondy who had helped her to dress and given Helena her bouquet. It had been Lady Carmondy who had embraced her and told her what a wonderful thing it was.

  Helena could still hear her mother-in-law proclaiming that she would not have minded if Helena had simply been a governess, for she was such a wonderful young lady, and that their family had known enough blue blood for multiple lifetimes.

  Lady Carmondy had then assured her that a bit of fresh blood would have been most welcome.

  And it didn’t even matter that she was English. Somehow, they would survive. They’d survived harder things, Lady Carmondy had insisted.

  The very memory of it lit Helena’s heart with joy. It felt so good to be loved and accepted.

  Now, as she and Gideon left the boys and Lady Carmondy on the lawn after a late supper, they made their way up to his chamber.

  Her heart beat wildly. The small celebration downstairs had been full of toasts and laughter. The boys drank cold-pressed apple cider. Bubbling and crisp cold French wine had been served to herself, Gideon, and his mother.

  Though it had been a small gathering, it had been the happiest she had ever been and the most lovely of evenings.

  No ball in London could have ever compared. For their evening had not been about jewels, silks, or great families.

  It had been about joy.

  It seemed astonishing to her that now she was a wife, and almost a mother to three wonderful boys. And she couldn’t quite forget that she was the lady of a castle in Scotland now.

  “You have the strangest look upon your face, love,” Gideon said, leading her into his chamber. The last vestiges of the summer sun lit it in a golden-red glow.

  Love. How she thrilled at that word on his lips.

  “I am simply thinking that all of this is a marvel I could not have dreamed of but two months ago.”

  “It is amazing to think that it has happened so fast,” he agreed, “but sometimes good things do happen quickly. Sometimes it’s best not to wait. Sometimes it’s best to rush in.”

  Much to her amazement, she concurred.

  History did not always seem to award those who waited.

  Sometimes when one felt something was right, one needed to grab onto it and not second guess oneself. That’s exactly what they had done, and she was so very glad.

  Now that she’d jumped, she was setting her life to rights.

  She and Gideon had written her aunt and uncle a long letter explaining their situation and telling them that they would come to London to visit.

  Helena knew her aunt would be thrilled at the missive, despite the shocking contents. Likely, her aunt would need her smelling salts. After all, her most unprepossessing niece had hied off to Scotland with no prospects and was now married to a wealthy laird.

  Her aunt might be a trifle hurt at Helena’s deception, but in the end, she had made such an advantageous marriage that the wonder of it couldn’t be denied.

  Even if it might prove a bit confusing as to how it had come about.

  Pushing those concerns aside, she followed Gideon deeper into his chamber.

  Her old room was another flight up, tucked away into a cozy corner of the castle.

  It had always been a very nice room, a room she’d quite liked because the fire had made it feel welcoming.

  The bed had been comfortable too.

  Gideon’s chamber was much larger and yet it still had a remarkably warm feel to it.

  The fire was ablaze in the great hearth.

  Oak logs crackled.

  The tapestries along the wall featured unicorns and mythological creatures of ancient Scottish myths. The floors were covered in thick Axminster carpets of the deepest emerald color she’d ever seen intermixed with yellow and ruby hues.

  The great bed was, well, great. It was positively enormous.

  “My goodness,” she burst out.

  She stared at it and nearly took a step back. It was so massive.

  “Were your ancestors giants?” she demanded.

  Gideon laughed, a lovely rumble that filled the room.

  He himself was over six feet, or at least there about, so she assumed.

  “Or most certainly,” he replied. “My ancestors have always been a great big lot. Not quite as large as William Wallace, mind you, but we’re tall and braw Highlanders,” he said, suddenly using a thick burr, something he did not often do.

  He winked at her. “No short fellows amongst my ancestors.”

  She shook her head, unable to hide her mirth. “The bed certainly would suggest that. I’ve never seen something so monstrous.”

  He nodded, heading over to the towering structure. “It was specially made for the first Laird MacAlister. So the tale goes, at any rate. And it was most difficult to get up the stairs and into this chamber. It had to be taken apart to get it up here. Everything about it is unique.”

  “The great laird’s bed,” she declared.

  He gazed upon her with eyes that had replaced mischief with desire. “And yours as well.”

  She swallowed, butterflies dancing along her insides. “No lady’s chamber then?”

  “Not for you,” he said. “You’re to sleep with me, for that’s how I mean to go. We shall not be distant.”

  “That’s how we mean to go,” she replied.

  “Yes,” he agreed, “forgive me. It will take a moment to go from I to we.”

  She took a step forward, wishing him to know she was pleased. “It is different, isn’t it? To realize that now we are …”

  “A pair?” he replied.

  “A couple,” she riposted.

  “A duo, yes.”

  “I love it,” she breathed.

  “So you should sleep with me every night, lass,” he murmured. “And we shall share this chamber. Now, of course, you shall have a room to yourself to keep some of your belongings. You may have whatever you like.”

  “I like the idea of being with you,” she said solemnly. “I d
id not have a grand life before this, and I don’t want a grand one now. A bit of independence, of course, is welcome. A little time alone to do my work.”

  “More than a little bit,” he said. “You shall have as much time as you like.”

  “Thank you,” she said before she tilted her head to the side and added, “but I do get a great deal of inspiration from other people and events. Too much time alone is not good for anyone. Even a writer.”

  His lips twitched with amusement. “You’re not a hermit then?”

  “No.” She laced her fingers behind her back and gazed up at him. “If I was a hermit, I couldn’t be a good governess to your nephews, nor would I be able to tolerate your company as much as I seem to have done.”

  “But you do like to be alone?” he prompted.

  “Of course. Yet sometimes we think we want to be alone,” she continued, “but truly we need good company.”

  Helena hesitated, then admitted, “Sometimes I need that. It can be quite sad, you know, sitting alone in a room, all by oneself.”

  “All by oneself?” he replied, his eyes widening. “Is that what you have had to endure in the past?”

  “If I’m honest? Yes. I’m an only child and since my parents died, my aunt and uncle did their best, but I was often alone.” She smiled ruefully. “Which is perhaps why I became such a teller of stories.”

  He held his hand out to her. “You aren’t alone now. You have a whole family to take care of you.”

  She beamed, feeling as if she’d been wrapped up in care. “That sounds positively wonderful.”

  “Now come here and let me begin to take care of you properly,” his gaze fell to her mouth. “As a husband should take care of his wife.”

  Anticipation hummed through her.

  She understood what was to happen in theory, but she’d never experienced anything like it herself.

  The entire event was hypothetical to her. It was theoretical. Book knowledge.

  Truly, she excelled at book knowledge.

  But taking theory to reality was something else entirely. Still, she went to him and put her hand into his. She gazed up into his cerulean eyes, loving the feel of them upon her.

  “I trust you in this. It is your expertise, after all,” she teased.

  “Will I never live that down?” he groaned with mock horror.

  “No,” she proclaimed with a laugh. “It is part of who you are, Gideon, and I like that you have enjoyed life so thoroughly and hurt no one doing it. You are charming and happy and full of life.”

  He stared down at her silently for a moment. “Not always happy, but charming, yes.”

  “We both have our moments of sadness then?” she queried, reminding herself that even though he was beautiful, his life was not perfect. He’d known great loss.

  “Don’t we all?” he asked.

  “Indeed,” she replied. “But now we can begin to build a life together.”

  “Exactly. Now let us start.”

  Gideon slid his arms around her, stroking her back and tracing his hands up to her loosely coiled hair. His fingers wove into her locks and he tilted her head ever so slightly to the side.

  “I have wanted this from the moment I saw you,” he marveled.

  “And I, you,” she whispered, enraptured at his touch. “But I did not dream it could become a reality.”

  “All your dreams can become reality,” he replied passionately.

  “I’m beginning to believe that now,” she breathed.

  And then he took her mouth with his.

  His hands traveled slowly over her body, teasing her, branding her with him.

  She felt surrounded by him, absorbed, owned in the most delicious way.

  He was so imposing and yet she was not afraid at all.

  Gideon made her feel at ease, even as she felt hunger awaken inside her. A voracious, wild need for him sparked deep in her belly and flamed to life in her breasts.

  She reached up and pulled him tighter to her, knowing that she was allowed to now.

  His mouth worked gently over hers and he softened his kiss. The touch of his lips was hot.

  The moment she thought it could not be any more heavenly, his tongue teased hers.

  It was everything that she could have hoped in this moment, and she began to lose all reasonable thought.

  Her eyes fluttered closed and she did not even really feel it when he lifted her into his arms and carried her towards the massive bed.

  Gently, he laid her down and stared at her. Oh so slowly, he pulled the cravat from his neck and let it fall to the floor. He slipped his coat and waistcoat off his shoulders before he sat down beside her.

  The garments fell with a gentle thud to the Axminster carpet.

  “Are you afraid?” he inquired gently.

  “Of you?” she asked, astonished. “Not at all.”

  “Of what we are about to do,” he clarified.

  “No,” she said honestly. “I’m not afraid.”

  “I’m glad.” He crawled onto the bed, bracing himself on his strong arms. “I don’t want you to ever be afraid of me or—”

  “I’ve heard it might hurt,” she rushed, pressing herself into the mattress. “But I’m not afraid of a little bit of pain because I know that sometimes a bit of pain can result in very good things.”

  “You are a wonder to me.” He settled beside her, stroking his hand along her shoulder. “I love how you see the world.”

  With that, he tucked a lock of hair back from her face and gently traced his fingers over her cheek. Then he tilted her chin up. He took her mouth in a fiery kiss.

  Breath after breath, he kissed her until she could not think.

  Gideon traced his strong hand along her ankle, caressing her calf through her silk stocking.

  Slowly, he raised the hem of her simple gown and she nearly jumped at his touch.

  No one had ever touched her lower limbs before except herself.

  The shock of it was quite surprising, as was how much she liked it. She held still, waiting to see what he would do next.

  His kisses didn’t cease as his hand slipped up past her knee and over her garter.

  She arched against him when he skimmed her inner thigh.

  Goodness! Trusting him was not hard, but it was all so new. She had no idea what to make of the sensations coursing through her body and making her feel as delicious as heated chocolate.

  When he eased her back against his vast pillows and began working at the fastenings of her gown, she was amazed at how easily he freed her from her clothes. Though given his previous rakishness, she supposed that was only natural.

  In one quick motion, he undid the ties at her bodice, then slid her gown down her body.

  He made quick work of her stays and chemise, slipping the thin fabric over her body in a caress. Then he dropped them over the side of the bed to join his own clothes.

  Left in nothing but her stockings, she stared up at her beautiful husband… Vulnerable and ready.

  Oh so gently, he stroked his hand between her thighs as he deepened his kiss.

  Who would have thought that one could kiss for so many minutes and only long for more?

  And how she longed for more. She could kiss him for eternity.

  She held on to him tightly as his mouth seemed to work a spell upon her.

  Soon she realized she was kissing him back. Giving kiss for kiss, as well as taking.

  His fingers then slipped into the most intimate place between her legs and she jolted.

  “Do you wish me to stop?” he asked, pausing though his voice was rough with passion.

  She blinked, barely able to put thoughts together. “Please don’t,” she whispered.

  She loved what he was doing, but it was so surprising.

  He kissed her cheek then, trailing his mouth along her neck until he lingered over her bare breasts.

  As he teased her nipples with his mouth, she could scarcely think. For his fingers were circling now on a
most sensitive spot.

  The world seemed to disappear, and her body felt at once liquid and completely alive.

  Something was transforming her. Pushing her towards something. Her breath became ragged and she held onto him tightly as she arched. Her hips jerked against his hand, and before she could fully fathom what was happening, pleasure rippled through her and she let out an intense cry.

  He swallowed her cry with a kiss and then, oh so gently, he lowered his body atop hers.

  Somehow, he had managed to divest himself of the rest of his clothes.

  When had he done that?

  She stroked his bare back. The velvet strength of him was perfection. The feel of his hard chest against her breasts felt right.

  And when he stroked his hard sex along her wet heat, she angled towards him out of sheer instinct.

  “I want you so bloody much,” he growled.

  “Then have me,” she whispered back.

  Those words seemed to do something wild to her new husband.

  He took her into his arms, then rocked against her.

  The intensity of his sex pressing into her folds was astonishing. For a brief moment, the whole thing seemed very ill advised. She had a brief moment of panic before he thrust forward, and she realized that her body was indeed made to take him.

  No. Not take him. Welcome him.

  The feel of his hard sex thrusting deep into her was the most wonderful thing she’d ever experienced. The quick pain of entry disappeared as he stroked her within.

  His entire length tensed as he rocked back and forth.

  As their bodies worked together, despite her lack of knowledge, she trusted him. And herself.

  Soon she began feeling that wild need again.

  She arched upward, and he took her mouth with his again.

  He thrust his tongue into her mouth, an echo of the way his sex thrust into her body. Just when she thought she could not bear it another moment, she crested into pleasure. Wave after wave of intense joy coursed through her.

  As she wrapped herself tightly about him, that seemed to drive him over some edge and his entire body shook with release.

  “Helena,” he cried out before he collapsed against her.