She tightened around him deliciously, and lust singed its way up his spine, making him arch away from the damask embroidered settee back and into her. “Ah, Christ!”
“That’s it,” she praised, her nails biting into the flesh of his shoulder. “Enjoy the ride.”
“Pel,” he managed, gasping with fear. “I can’t last.”
She rose and fell with such grace, her curvy body lithe and filled with quiet feminine strength. She was so tight, so hot and drenched, he knew he was losing his mind just as he had lost his heart.
“Come,” he bit out, clutching her hips and thrusting madly into her. A silken fist. A burning glove. “Come, damn you!”
Gerard yanked her down as he ground upward, listening as she gave a thready cry, watching as her head fell back, feeling her clench tight around him and then milk his tortured cock with the same rhythmic suckling as he had felt in her mouth.
The moment she rested limp against his chest he withdrew, catching his cock in hand and pumping, spurting his seed outside of his wife.
Agonized, he pressed his cheek to her heart, listening to the rapid, passionate beat as he hid his tears in the exotic floral sweat that pooled between her breasts.
Chapter 19
For Isabel, the ride to Waverly was a lovely one, despite the presence of her mother-in-law. The pride with which Gray brought attention to and explained various landmarks was obvious. It deepened their growing bond to share this day and this place, to build these memories. She listened with rapt attentiveness as he spoke in his raspy voice, watching the light in his eyes and the animation of his features.
How different he was from the young, jaded man who had left her side so long ago. That man had died with Emily. The husband she had now was entirely her own and had never given his heart to another. And though he had not yet said it aloud, she suspected he loved her.
The knowledge made her day brighter, her mood lighter, her steps surer. Certainly with love between them, they could conquer any difficulties. True love meant accepting a person with all their faults. Isabel couldn’t help but hope that Grayson would love her in spite of hers.
As the carriage rolled to a stop before the Waverly Park manse, Isabel drew herself up and prepared to meet the staff. Today the formality held new significance. In the past, she had not truly felt like Grayson’s marchioness, and while she had no trouble assuming the authority of the station she was bred for, it had not previously given her the sense of satisfaction it gave her now.
Over the course of the next few hours, she toured the manse with the efficient housekeeper and took note of the deference paid to Gray’s mother, who appeared to have no trouble praising the servants for a job well done, despite her difficulty in doing the same for her sons. Still, the dignified compliments the dowager paid to the staff for remembering certain tasks impeded the passing of the reins to Isabel.
When they were done, she and the dowager sat in the upstairs family parlor for tea. The room, though slightly dated in its decor, was lovely and soothing with shades of deep gold and pale yellow. They managed to hold a civilized conversation regarding the nuances unique to running that particular household. Briefly.
“Isabel,” the dowager said, in a tone that made her tense. “Grayson seems determined to establish you in all ways as his marchioness.”
Lifting her chin, Isabel replied, “I am equally determined to fulfill that role to the best of my abilities.”
“Including discarding your lovers?”
“My private affairs are none of your concern. However, I will say that my marriage is solid.”
“I see.” The dowager gifted her with a smile that did not reach her eyes. “And Grayson is not disturbed by the prospect of lacking an heir from his own loins?”
Isabel paused with a piece of buttered scone lifted halfway to her mouth. “Beg your pardon?”
Gray’s mother narrowed her pale blue eyes and studied her over the rim of her flowered teacup. “Grayson makes no objection to your refusal to bear him children?”
“I am curious as to why you believe I do not want children.”
“Your years are advanced.”
“I know my age,” Isabel said curtly.
“You have never shown any desire to be a mother before.”
“How would you know that? You have never expended any effort to ask me.”
The dowager took her time returning her saucer and cup to the table before asking, “So you do wish to have children?”
“I believe most women have that desire. I am no exception.”
“Well, that is good to hear,” came the murmured, distracted reply.
Staring at the woman across from her, Isabel attempted to collect her aim. There was one, if only she could puzzle it out.
“
She turned with a bright smile to face Gray as he entered. His hair was windblown and his cheeks flushed, the handsomest man she had ever seen. She had always thought so. Now, looking at him with all the love she possessed, she was rendered breathless by the sight of him. “Yes, my lord?”
“The vicar’s wife gave birth to their sixth child today.” He held out both hands to her, and then pulled her to her feet. “A small crowd gathered with well-wishes. Instruments were brought out to provide music, others brought food. Now something of a celebration is happening in the village and I would dearly love to take you there.”
“Yes, yes.” Her excitement was sparked by his, her fingers tightening in response to his affectionate squeeze.
“May I come?” his mother asked, rising.
“I doubt it would be something you would enjoy,” Gerard said, tearing his gaze away from Pel’s radiant face. Then he shrugged. “But I have no objection.”
“A moment to refresh, if you would, please,” Isabel asked softly.
“Take all the time you need,” he assured her. “I will have the landaulet brought around. It is a short distance, but neither of you are dressed for the walk.”
Isabel left the room with her customary graceful glide. He began to follow her when his mother halted his egress.
“How will you know if the children she bears are truly yours?”
Gerard stilled, then turned slowly about. “What the devil are you talking about?”
“You don’t honestly believe she will be faithful to you, do you? When she increases, the whole of society will wonder who the father is.”
He sighed.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me clearly the first time. After what happened to Emily, how could you think I would ever go through that ordeal again? Michael or Spencer’s eldest male issue will inherit. I will not risk Isabel when there is no dire need to.”
She blinked, and then broke out in a broad grin. “I see.”
“I hope you do.” Shaking a finger at her, he narrowed his gaze and said, “Do not think to blame this on my wife as a shortcoming.
His mother nodded with unusual docility. “I understand completely.”
“Good.” He turned away again and strode to the door. “We shall be departing shortly. If you want to come, be ready.”
“Never fear, Grayson,” she called after him. “I would not miss this for the world.”
“Celebration” was an apt description for the merry crowd that filled the lawn before the vicar’s small house and the church next to it. Beneath two large trees gathered a few dozen dancing and loudly conversing villagers, and
