Page 79 of My Darling Rogue
Afterward, she’d curled up beside him, her fingers twirling through his hair and brushing the heavy locks from his brow. She’d kissed him sweetly, so soft and compliant in his embrace that Gabriel found himself becoming more entranced by the second.
His body was now stirring with incessant hunger as he thought of waking her, his fingers searching between her legs, his mouth at her breast, and a hand gripped tight in her hair. If he must journey to London, she would go as well.
He could not abide being parted from her for longer than a day. That much was clear.
* * *
They departed a week later,once Celia’s maid arrived at Rosenthorne Park along with most of her personal belongings. Gabriel’s items had arrived the day before, including Arion who nickered with pleasure at seeing his master.
Celia felt as though she were caught in a whirlwind, one which began the moment she’d agreed to become Gabriel’s wife. From Beaumont to Rosenthorne Park, and now to Rosenthorne Hall located within the fashionable district of Mayfair. She traveled in the marquess’s grand coach along with her maid while Gabriel followed behind on horseback.
That development in itself was disappointing. Celia greatly missed Gabriel’s presence inside the coach. Sighing, she glanced out the window, grateful that this trip into London was quicker than the journey from Beaumont to Rosenthorne. It was only a day of travel to reach their destination, and she looked forward to spending more time with her husband.
She was still learning so many things about Gabriel, his wicked sense of humor being the most pleasant surprise. There was also his unfailing commitment when it came to her wellbeing. Including those times following their moments of intimacy. He was so tender. So masterful. So riveting. Celia found herself hanging upon his every word like a besotted schoolgirl. Eager for his attention and the burning ecstasy she felt when he touched and kissed her.
While he’d not punished her again following that night at the inn, Celia could not help but wonder the other things he might do should the occasion arise. The spanking he’d given her, while not terribly painful, certainly left an impression. Admittedly, she’d both enjoyed and hated that particular punishment.
But what else was there to experience with her husband? What would please him as well as herself?
She sighed again as the countryside slowly morphed from pastoral fields to bustling city streets. They were entering London, and soon, she would find herself in a new situation as the wife of a powerful marquess. A marquess with no real experience in dealing with the intricacies of thetonand all its cruelty and pettiness. Celia would be the one to ease his way into this life, and her stomach clenched with apprehension for the daunting task ahead. Any hint of scandal, either real or imagined, must be avoided during these first few weeks of their introduction to society.
After all, the two of them were already under scrutiny based on the circumstances of their hasty marriage.
Pulling into the circular driveway, Celia gazed up at the imposing grey stone façade with awe. While many of the residences in Mayfair were fashionable townhouses like the one her parents owned, Rosenthorne Hall was a separate building nestled within a sprawling plot of land. A high, black iron fence enclosed its entirety, the grounds kept very much in the style of nearby Hyde Park. It was lushly beautiful, the feeling of privacy unusual within the confines of the crowded city where people jostled elbows. She’d never had the pleasure of visiting the home. The old marquess was notoriously reclusive, and there’d been no events held there for many years. In fact, Gabriel’s father had rarely been in residence, and the house sat in a suspended state as a result.
“How very grand it is, milady,” Katie, her maid, breathed from the other side of the coach. “It is like a fairytale castle.”
Upon entering the border of Mayfair, Gabriel trotted ahead of the coach so he could arrive at Rosenthorne Hall first. Now, as the vehicle rolled to a stop, Celia watched from the window as he dismounted from Arion’s back. He handed the reins over to a young stable boy with a warm smile and words she could not hear.
Celia’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of him. Her husband was so brutally handsome. Somehow, the cloak of power he’d inherited just a month ago had only intensified his appeal. The man exuded arrogant confidence, his demeanor both aloof and approachable. It was an odd juxtaposition, and Celia wondered if others would find the combination difficult to resist.
She, herself, could not, and the proof was evident in the shameless way she lusted for him.
He’d made love to her tenderly every night of the past week leading up to their departure for London. It was a sweet seduction of slow, gentle thrusts, the sweetest of loving words, and the most scandalous of instructions. She thought perhaps he was building her up, preparing her for something she might not agree to without this careful planning. What that might be, she did not know, but a tiny part of her was eager to experience more.
Even if it frightened her.
The coachman jumped down from his perch and snapped open the steps. When the coach door opened for her descent, Gabriel was already there and taking her hand in assistance, his lips lifted slightly in a self-conscious smirk.
“Welcome to Rosenthorne Hall, Marchioness.”
He helped her down, leading her away as a groomsman stepped closer to take one of the coach horses by the bit. Celia did not pay much heed, but upon looking back to ensure Katie had descended the coach safely, she caught a glimpse of the man holding the horses.
Celia’s heart stuttered with fear.
It cannot be. It simply cannot.
Bryan Flannigan winked, his cruel mouth lifting in a smirk in acknowledgment of her shock.
The sun dimmed as everything swirled about her in a kaleidoscope of sights and sounds. She heard Gabriel’s cry of alarm as though it came from a great distance and felt his heavy muscled arms slide about her waist. He was holding her up even as she fainted.
Celia clutched his arm.
“Gabriel,” came from her lips in a shallow, weak puff of air before the world went black and sucked her down.
CHAPTER33
Celia awoke in a state of confusion.
