Page 94 of The Moonstone Marquess
Melrose and his staff were also here, smiling and nodding their approval of Phoebe, who would now keep his household in shape.
He recognized so many faces—the tavern keeper, the schoolmistress and her husband, the boat owner who’d taken them for a ride around the harbor.
Mr. and Mrs. Hawke wore the biggest grins. “Your Auntie Hen must be so proud of her nieces,” Mrs. Hawke called out. “You girls made it such a happy place after she passed.”
Even though Chloe would no longer be living at Moonstone Cottage, she had agreed to keep the Hawkes on as caretakers so the house would never be empty. In any event, Chloe was going to move back in as soon as Cain would allow it. She was already counting the days until her return. That house was in the Killigrew blood and would never pass to anyone but a Killigrew.
Everyone now climbed into their carriages to ride to Malvern House for the wedding breakfast. The tables groaned under the weight of the food piled atop them, and there was an orchestra hired to play for those who wished to dance.
Cormac and Phoebe led off the dancing with a country reel, for this was not a London ballroom and everyone simply wanted to have fun. No formal quadrille. Just stomping and twirling. Any qualms he might have had about sharing a dance with Phoebe quickly disappeared. Whenever she could not hold his arm—since he did not have one to hold—she merely twirled on her own and held out her veil so that it billowed becomingly around her.
Perhaps it was also the freely flowing ale, port wines and clarets, ratafia punch, and orgeat that made for such a pleasant celebration. No one seemed to notice or care about his missing limb. They were all too busy having a good time and admiring Phoebe, who looked more radiant than a moon goddess, for she was all shimmer and silky starlight.
Well, they were presently enjoying a spectacular day in brightest sunlight…he must have downed too much of Cain’s excellent brandy to be thinking of Phoebe as a goddess of the moon. Not that it mattered. He could hold his drink, and Phoebe was beautiful whether under the light of the sun, moon, or stars.
The party finally ended late in the day, and it was now time for Cormac to take Phoebe back to Westgate Hall. Her clothes had been brought over yesterday, and he’d assigned a maid to attend to her personal care.
While he would have enjoyed undressing Phoebe, he knew her wedding gown had too many buttons and lacings for him to manage on his own—especially those delicate pearl buttons, which he would have destroyed in the trying.
It also pained him that he could not sweep his luscious bride into his arms and carry her upstairs. But she did not seem to care a whit about this as she climbed the stairs beside him, the two of them hand in hand. “Cormac, I am going to kick you out of bed if you don’t stop thinking about every little thing you cannot do.”
He tossed her a seductive grin. “If you kick me out of bed, I’ll just have to make love to you on the floor.”
She arched an eyebrow. “I expect you will try it anyway, because you are still a naughty boy at heart.”
“Any objection? It would only ever be with you, love.” He kissed her on the mouth, a sweet, lingering kiss, before allowing Phoebe’s maid to escort her into her dressing room. He heard laughter and the soft hum of chatter as the maid began helping her out of her garments.
He entered his bedchamber and strode to his own dressing room, where Gunyon awaited to assist him out of his clothes. There was an adjoining door between Phoebe’s dressing area and his. Her door was closed for the moment. Even so, he and Gunyon could hear Phoebe still chattering away and her maid laughing.
Gunyon smiled as he helped Cormac undress. “My lord, a miracle has happened.”
“Do you mean the ladies? They do seem to be having an awfully good time in there. I wonder what they are talking about.”
“You, I’m sure. But I was not referring to them. The miracle is about you. For once, you are not snarling at me as I assist you in undressing.”
Cormac chuckled. “Don’t get used to it, Gunyon. I’m still an insufferable arse.”
“I’ll try not to get my hopes up, my lord,” the valet said in jest, but they both knew Cormac’s life would not be the same now that Phoebe was his wife.
She filled the house with warmth and light, and everyone felt it—Cormac most of all. He could not quite take it all in or believe that none of his limitations mattered to her.
Yet they never had. Not even the first day they met.
He silently berated himself, knowing he had to stop getting inside his own head and enjoy the evening. Phoebe was an innocent and had no idea what could happen between a man and a woman. He knew how to pleasure her. Even if he wasn’t perfect, she had nothing to compare him to. He also knew they would enjoy their night together no matter what happened because of how strongly they felt about each other.
Once they were alone in his bedchamber—one they would now share—he made no move to rid her of her robe or his own that he had donned for the sake of her modesty. Even though Phoebe was a lioness, she was a shy one at the moment.
He meant to put her at ease. She needed to get comfortable with her own body as well as his.
The sun was still on the horizon and would remain so for another hour, casting the room in a soft amber glow. Phoebe looked so lovely with her hair unbound and her curves quite shapely beneath the thin nightgown and silk robe she wore.
The windows were open, the sheer drapes billowing in the breeze wafting off the water. His chamber was large and befitting a marquess, the bed big and solid, with the footboard and headboard carved of finest mahogany.
The views from his windows were quite splendid. When Phoebe moved away to look out of one of them, he did not stop her, and instead joined her. Like most of the finer houses in the area, Westgate Hall had been built with views to the garden and the shimmering waters of the cove beyond. “It is quite a change from your cozier bedchamber at Moonstone Cottage, but the scenery is much the same. I hope you will be comfortable here.”
She nodded. “I know I will be.”
He kissed her when she turned to smile up at him, one deep kiss and then another. He slipped the robe off her shoulders, hardly noticing its softwhooshas it slid to the floor. Then her nightgown came off, and she stood before him looking so lovely that he could hardly believe she was real.
