Page 47 of Lusting for the Duke's Kiss
It was clearly a working blacksmith’s shop. The brick walls were blackened with soot, mostly surrounding the hearth, in the centre of the room. There was a multitude of tools, hanging from hooks, and many horseshoes secured to a rafter. Everything that she would have expected in such a working environment.
But what shehadn’tbeen expecting was the transformation that Louis had obviously undertaken to complete before she stepped into the shop. There were white candles everywhere, all lit, glowing, inthe darkness. He had even managed to find some flowers, which were strewn over every available surface.
Her eyes filled with tears. It was so very beautiful, almost ethereal. How had he managed to do it in such a short time?
Briefly, she recalled the expensive, intricate decorations at the church, where she had wed Frank. The hours of preparation that had been put into it. But it was as nothing, compared to what Louis had done, here. It could not compare at all.
He was standing next to the anvil, waiting for her. The priest looked tired and a little grumpy. Two witnesses – a man and a woman, who Louis had found at the inn, and paid for this service – were standing to the right of them. They both looked rather weary, too, as if they wanted to be anywhere but here, on this dark, cold night.
She thought of her bevy of bridesmaids, led by Annabelle, at her first wedding. She smiled. Even though she loved her friends, she would not wish them here. These weary strangers seemed an integral part of this whole, new, magical experience.
She blinked back the tears. It was perfect. She wanted to remember this scene, forever.
Louis smiled, holding out his hand towards her. She took a deep breath and stepped towards him, towards the anvil, and this new life,with him by her side for all eternity.
***
They walked into the small lodging room, at the same inn, hand in hand. They had not spoken a word to one another since they had completed their vows in the blacksmith’s shop and kissed beneath a garland of wild heather that he had picked from the fields.
Hetty gazed around the room, her heart thumping. It was very small. The bed in the centre of the room seemed to dwarf the space; there was barely room for any other furniture. Her mouth went dry. It would be on this bed, with its threadbare quilt, that they would finally consummate the love between them.
He turned her to him, gazing down at her, intently. “My wife,” he whispered, almost in wonder. “At last. You do not know how much I have yearned for this moment, my one and only love.”
She blinked rapidly, gazing up at him, her heart overflowing. “My husband. I have yearned for this moment, as much as you have.” She shuddered. “I feared it would never come …”
He brushed a hand over her face, softly, his eyes full of such love that her heart somersaulted over in her chest.
“I feared that it would never come, either,” he admitted. “I knew that you would never consent to be with me if your marriage to Blackmore was not dissolved.” He took a deep breath. “I knew that I was on the brink of losing you forever if we weren’t successful.”
She shuddered again, leaning into him. It could so easily have gone the other way. It was only by the grace of God that it hadn’t. So many applications for divorce were denied.
She squeezed her eyes shut, offering up a silent prayer of gratitude.
Thank you, Lord. Thank you for giving me this man. Thank you for seeing fit to let me live again.
“It is time, Hetty,” he whispered in her ear, his breath warm. “Are you ready?”
A frisson of nervousness swept through her. But as she gazed into his face, seeing the love and desire there, it suddenly started to dissolve. Anticipation of what was to come replaced it. He was her husband, now, and they were going to become man and wife in the true sense of the word.
She took a deep breath. “I am ready.”
***
He undressed her slowly, peeling off her clothes, layer by layer. Her gown fell to the ground, and then her undergarments until she was standing there naked before him, illuminated by a single ray of moonlight shining through the crack in the curtain.
She shivered, repressing the instinctual urge to cover herself. And then a fierce blush rose up over her body, flooding her face. What would he think of her?
He didn’t say a thing. He just kept gazing at her intently, his eyes taking their fill. They started at her face, and then slowly swept down, taking in her breasts, the dip of her waist, the spread of her hips, to the dark triangle of hair between her legs. He let out a strangled moan.
“You are far more beautiful than I even imagined,” he whispered in a voice thickened by desire. “The most beautiful of women …”
She shuddered with pure delight at his words. He walked slowly around her body so that he was behind her. She jumped slightly at the feel of his hands on her hair. Slowly, gently, he undid it, taking out the pins, so that it fell, undulating in waves around her shoulders, and down her back.
She could barely breathe, feeling his breath on her neck. And then,his arms snaked around her, taking her breasts in both hands. She moaned, closing her eyes, leaning back into him as he kneaded them, tweaking the nipples until they grew hard and swollen beneath his touch.
She did not open her eyes as his hands slowly dipped lower, skimming her waist and her hips, stopping at her buttocks. She heard his strangled breath as he caressed them, firmly, his touch strong and sure. She was in an agony of desire, feeling sensations sparking through her as if her skin was on fire.
Without warning, he suddenly scooped her up in his arms, carrying her to the bed. He laid her gently upon the quilt, his eyes never leaving hers as he quickly undressed. Suddenly, he was as naked as she was. Her eyes widened in shock. She had never seen a naked man before.
