Page 71 of The Colonel's Ungovernable Governess
Jocelyn rose up on her toes to present him a brief kiss. “Thirty minutes, or do you require longer, sir?”
“I require nothing but you, Mrs. Fitzwilliam,” he responded as he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.
“I warrant the wait shall be worth the time. A dip in rosewater and a gown . . . Well, you must simply see it to appreciate it.”
He felt the tug of his member and bowed grandly. “You have piqued both my interest and my desire, love.”
“Thirty minutes,” she repeated, before slipping into the room and teasingly closing the door, inch by delicious inch.
When he heard the click, he was finally able to release the breath he had held. With the clock ticking in his head, he entered the chambers set aside for him to find both Darcy’s Mr. Sheffield and the young footman Edward had selected to be his valet.
“Mr. Darcy thought I might be of service to you by assisting Mr. McKane with your uniform, sir,” Sheffield insisted as he reached for Edward’s belt. “As I have been of service to you often at Pemberley and Darcy House.”
“I would not wish to fail you, sir,” McKane said awkwardly.
Edward wanted to laugh. Instead, he said, “We will permit Mr. Sheffield to lead, but I mean to send Darcy’s man back to my cousin as quickly as I am out of this uniform, so watch carefully.”
“Yes, sir.”
Like clockwork, Sheffield began to work Edward’s buttons free, while explaining to McKane the meaning of each ribbon and the epaulets. “You will wish to hang, rather than to fold, the major general’s jacket to permit any wrinkles to drop. Generally, the major general prefers to shave himself, but, as this is a special evening, with his permission, I will remove the shadow on his chin, while you set out towels for his bath.” When McKane rushed to do Sheffield’s bidding, Darcy’s long-time servant, said softly, “He is eager to learn. Such is half the battle.”
Edward’s mind was on his bride. “Mrs. Fitzwilliam only provided me thirty minutes.”
Sheffield smiled. “I understand perfectly, sir.”
Wearing only his trousers and his silk banyan, thirty-five minutes later, he tapped on the door that separated their bed chambers.
“Come,” Jocelyn called, and he sucked in a breath before turning the latch. He took but one step within her quarters before being brought up short. He had imagined this moment since he realized the children’s governess and his betrothed were one and the same, but his ‘dreams’ of Jocelyn were proving to be poor imitations of the reality of the woman.
She stood before him in a creamy pink Grecian goddess-style gown with narrow jeweled straps that hid little of her décolletage and shoulders. He looked to her right shoulder to view how well she had healed.
Her eyes followed his. “I put a bit of powder on it. I did not wish you to be concentrating on that one spot and wondering if you would harm me if you jarred it in some manner.”
“Trust me,” he said. “I am memorizing every inch of you and all this moment entails.”
“I did not take my hair down,” she rushed to say. “I thought you might wish the pleasure of doing so.”
A groan of desire escaped Edward’s lips before he could stifle it. “You have bewitched me body and soul, Mrs. Fitzwilliam,” he whispered as he stepped closer and lifted his hand to claim the first of the pins which still loosely held her chignon in place. “Thank you for considering my desire to run my fingers through your hair.”
“Mrs. Darcy said her husband is always fascinated by Elizabeth’s thick hair and its length,” she admitted. “I thought you might be of the same nature.”
Edward dropped each of the pins on the floor at his feet, meticulously working his way through her hair, enjoying the silkiness of her tresses as they slid through his fingers. When her hair was down, it fell to the small of her back. “Absolutely breathtaking,” he murmured as he bent to kiss her.
Jocelyn’s arms slid upward to rest across the back of his neck, and her lips parted beneath his, allowing him to discover the delectable heat within. He had waited so long to explore the sweet elixir of her mouth. He warned himself several times to proceed at a slower pace, but an urge he did not recognize demanded he should move with exigency.
A soft moan escaped her lips, and his member hardened further. He made himself step back and slow down his desire for her. They were both gasping for air, but she reached for the one button that was holding his banyan closed. “Permit me to look upon my husband.” She leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on his breastbone before sliding the banyan off his shoulders. Her administrations were both agony and erotic pleasure at the same time. Her fingers traced the planes of his chest. They lingered over a scar on his shoulder.
“A wound from my time on the American continent,” he groaned as she kissed that particular spot.
“We shall match each other perfectly,” she whispered against his skin.
“My turn,” he said through breathy tones. He reached for one of the jeweled trimmed straps and edged it off the tip of her shoulder. “You are so magnificently beautiful,” he rasped. “How can a man of my countenance claim such a woman?”
She caught his hand. “You have said something similar on other occasions, but be warned, sir, I shall not tolerate such talk again. Do you understand me, Major General? I chose you because you are the best man I could ever hope to encounter. You protect those you love, and I find myself blessed by your protection, as well as knowing the true strength of your character. I have met men who are supposedly, as you say, in possession of a finer countenance, but none of them moved me as did you. Have you no recollection of our sitting in a circle and watching young Bennet Darcy take his first steps? I knew something grand was happening between us. Did not you?”
“One of the most favorite moments of my life,” he admitted. “It was the first time my heart whispered your name, even though the name did not quite fit the woman who had invaded both my heart and my mind. You were never a ‘Rose’ in my heart, but you were immediately ‘my heart,’ no matter your name. Finally, the name ‘Jocelyn’ was written upon it, and all is well, at last.”
Never removing her eyes from his, she stepped back a few inches and reached up to remove first the strap he had lowered, as well as the remaining one, to bare her shoulders for his inspection. She held the gown to her breast, before doing the unexpected. “I love you, Edward Fitzwilliam,” she announced as she freed the straps from her grasp and permitted the gown to slither down her body, exposing herself to him in all her glory.
