The Lyon's Lady Love: The Lyon's Den Read online

  “It’s nice to meet you both,” Emma said. “Mrs. Perkins, I will count on you to guide me as I learn about Shorecrest.”

  The housekeeper beamed. “I’d be happy to, my lady. I’ll give you a tour of the place. Tell you all of Lord Rutherford’s favorite foods. Just let me know when it is convenient for you.”

  Mrs. Perkins then led Emma down the line, introducing the various servants to her. She’d always been quick to learn names and committed each one to memory.

  “May I show you to your rooms?” the housekeeper asked. “And perhaps you’d care for a bath, Lady Rutherford?”

  “I’ll show my wife her rooms,” Marcus said. “Then if you’d pack a picnic basket, Mrs. Perkins, I think we’ll head down to the beach first. We’ve been cooped up in the carriage for too long and need to stretch our legs. Lady Rutherford has never seen the sea and is keen on doing so.”

  “Very well, my lord. I’ll go straightaway and do so now.”

  Marcus led Emma inside. The foyer was large. A grand staircase beckoned to them. He led her up the stairs and down a corridor, pointing out rooms but not stopping in any of them.

  “These are your rooms,” he said, opening a door and bringing her inside. “This is a sitting room. Mother used this to read or write out the weekly menus. Through here is your bedchamber.”

  They stepped through a doorway and she was happy to see how large and airy it was. The wallpaper was a bit faded, as was the carpet, but she supposed those were things that could be addressed once they returned here again after the Season ended.

  “You may make any changes you’d like. In fact, you need to do so throughout the entire house.”

  “Won’t your mother mind?”

  “Mother knows you are mistress of Shorecrest now. She will want you to make it into the home you wish.”

  Emma hoped that would be the case.

  “In here is your dressing room.” Marcus led her through another doorway.

  This room was much larger than the one her mother had. She spied an enormous clawfoot tub for bathing.

  “It’s very nice,” she said. “Once we’ve been to see the water, I’m sure I will luxuriate in a hot bath.”

  “Do you feel the need to change?”

  “Will you?”

  “No.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  They retrieved the picnic basket from the kitchen and left the house. It meant a great deal to her when her husband threaded his fingers through hers. It was a small gesture but one that touched her.

  “It’s right at a mile to the water,” he explained.

  “It feels heavenly to be outside that carriage. I enjoy walking.”

  “I do, too. We can do so each day if you wish. Walk to the sea. Stroll in the gardens.”

  “You want to spend that much time with me?”

  He looked puzzled. “Of course. We are married, Emma. I don’t want you to think we’re joined at the hip and can never do anything without the other, but I want to be with you. I expect we’ll be best friends.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. A sob escaped.

  “Emma?”

  Marcus set the basket down and took her by the shoulders. “Have I said something wrong?” He searched her face. “Do you prefer being alone? I’m sorry. We never discussed our expectations regarding marriage.”

  Tears spilled down her cheeks. He cradled her face in his hands, his thumbs wiping them away.

  “I do want to be with you,” she said, hiccupping. “It’s just that . . . well . . . my parents never were in each other’s company. Father was always gone or when he was home, we rarely saw him. He barely spoke to me. Sometimes, I wondered if he’d forgotten I existed. And then Mama died and . . .”

  She buried her face against his coat. His arms went about her. He murmured soothing words as he stroked her hair.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, raising her head once she felt her emotions were under her control again.

  “I’m not. Your father sounds like a beast. It’s his loss that he didn’t get to know you.” Marcus kissed her. “I’ll wager I have learned more about you in the past few days than he ever did.”

  “You would be right,” she said softly. “I do want to spend time with you, Marcus. I want a different marriage from the one my parents had.”

  “Let’s promise to always be open with one another, Emma. To share both the good and the bad. The large and the small.”

  Through watery eyes, she nodded. “I promise.”

  He bent and grasped the basket’s handle. “We start now. With this picnic.”

  Emma nodded. He took her hand again, his fingers warm and reassuring. They walked on until the grass ended and large rocks began. She heard the sound of waves crashing against the rocks.

  “Be careful. You’ll soon learn the best places to climb over them.”

  His hand remained tight about hers. They climbed up a rock and then paused at the top. The sea stood before them in all its glory. Emma gazed out, mesmerized by the varying colors and the whitecaps atop the waves as they hurtled toward the shore. She watched them come in, fingers reaching in the sand, then retreating. Gulls flew overhead, diving into the waters and flying away with dinner in their mouths.

  “You like it.”

  “I do.”

  But not as much as I like you.

  Chapter Ten

  Marcus had forgotten to bring a blanket and shrugged from his coat, spreading it out.

  “Sit on this, Emma,” he said. “I’m out of practice, I suppose. Next time, I’ll remember and we can spread our feast out in front of us.”

  She didn’t mind. She was with her new husband—and he was fast becoming the center of her world. He was thoughtful and courteous and wanted to be around her. He wasn’t a man who’d merely wed her for her money and left her to fend for herself while he went out with his friends. He wanted them to have a true marriage, one where they could be their own person and yet come together and enjoy that time. He wouldn’t ignore her as her father had her mother. He’d even told her he wouldn’t take a mistress.

  Emma was glad of that. The thought of Marcus kissing another woman caused her to realize she possessed a jealous streak. She’d never understood that emotion—until now. She wanted every bit of this man for herself. Especially tonight. She wanted to explore the contours of his body, so very different from hers. Feel him deep inside her. He’d been right. His kiss had awakened something within her that cried out for satisfaction.

  For him.

  “It’s a good thing you have your bonnet on, else the sun would burn your nose a bright red. It’s strong today.”

  “My nose would turn red?” she asked.

  “Yes. You’re very fair. You’ll have to watch how much time you spend outside. The sun bouncing off the water not only warms your skin but it can also burn it if you’re not careful and stay out too long.” He chuckled. “It’s not pleasant in the least. I once spent hours and hours on the beach on a hot, summer day. Bare to the waist. My trousers rolled up over my knees. Feet bare. I turned a bright scarlet. Then water blisters formed. My skin felt as if it were on fire. I couldn’t wear any clothes for two days. I had to stay in my room. Even a sheet across my body was too much. I learned my lesson that day and you should well learn from my mistake.”

  She grinned. “Well, I certainly won’t go prancing about the beach bare to my waist.”

  Heat suddenly filled his eyes, the blue darkening. “No. You will save your naked prancing for our bedchamber. For my eyes alone.”

  A thrill shot through her. His gaze pinned hers and she felt herself go hot all over. His hand cupped her neck, holding her in place as his mouth lowered to hers. His kiss was tender yet fierce. Sweet and still possessive.

  He broke it and said, “I’ve never felt jealous before but I will not want to share you with anyone, Emma. Naked or otherwise. You asked me if I would take a mistress. My answer was no. Do you plan to take a lover once you’ve given me an heir?”
r />   “No,” she said firmly. “I take my marriage vows seriously.” She took his hand and raised it to her lips, brushing them across his knuckles. “No one compares to you, Marcus. I want no one but you.”

  She thought he growled her name but she wasn’t sure. The next thing she knew, she was lying in the sand, his mouth on hers, his body pressing into hers. Hunger filled her. Hunger for him. Her husband. She frantically returned his kisses, her legs wrapping around him.

  “No,” he said, lifting his head. “I’m not going to have your first time be on the beach, with sand getting into places it doesn’t need to be.”

  He kissed her once more, hard and possessive, and then grinned at her wolfishly. “I’ll feast on you later. For now, let’s see what Cook sent with us.”

  Marcus sat cross-legged next to her, pulling her upright. Emma laughed, excited to know that he seemed to want her as much as she wanted him. He brushed sand off her and himself and then opened the picnic basket. He lifted a damask napkin from it and spread it across her lap.

  “Ah, cold roasted chicken.” He handed her a leg and then retrieved one for himself. “Hold this,” he said and placed a napkin across his lap.

  He removed a jar filled with lemonade and poured each of them a glass and then claimed the leg again.

  “We’ll have to eat things in shifts since I don’t see any plates. I suppose Cook is out of the habit of packing picnic baskets, as well.”

  “I hope we can do this often,” she said, biting into the chicken as she looked across the water.

  They worked their way through cheese and fruit after the chicken and then had a few iced biscuits.

  “I won’t need any dinner.”

  “I’ll help you work up an appetite,” he told her.

  Emma blushed, remembering how he said he would feast on her. She didn’t know exactly what that meant but looked forward to it all the same.

  They finished eating and Marcus said, “You must shed your shoes and stockings.”

  She raised her eyebrows at him.

  “I want you to go into the water. What did you think I meant, Lady Rutherford?” he asked and waggled his eyebrows at her.

  She burst into laughter.

  “Let me help you,” he said.

  He pushed her skirts up to her knees and removed her shoes, setting them aside. Then his fingers skimmed up her calves to the top of her stockings. Emma held her breath as his fingers rolled her stockings down, his bare skin against hers causing her heart to thump wildly. He placed her stockings atop her shoes. Struggling, he removed his Hessians and then his own stockings and pushed himself to his feet.

  Offering her a hand, he asked, “Shall we?”

  Emma placed her hand in his and he easily brought her to her feet.

  “The thing to remember is the sea is not your friend. Never go into it alone,” Marcus cautioned. “The undertow is what tries to pull you out to sea. You don’t have to wade in very far for it to knock you down and suck you along with a returning wave.”

  She took a few steps, gingerly feeling the sand squishing under her feet, oozing between her toes.

  He took her hand, threading their fingers together. “Go slowly. Not too far.”

  They walked toward the water and the dry sand changed to a flat, hard surface. She paused, wiggling her toes, getting used to the feel of it. Using her free hand, she lifted her skirts to her knees and they walked toward the water. Marcus stopped and they waited. A wave came in, gentle caressing her, rising to just above her ankles. They remained where they stood for several minutes. Emma loved the feel of the sand escaping from under her toes, being pulled back toward the sea. She understood, though, how strong it must be and would be sure never to go in very far.

  Marcus said, “Do you mind getting your skirts a bit wet?”

  “Not at all,” she replied.

  They took several more steps out until the surf hit Emma’s knees. The pull was much greater here and she gripped Marcus’ hand tightly.

  “I see what you mean. This could be very dangerous. But I do love it,” she declared. “The smell of the salt. The warmth of the caressing waves. The feel of the sand under us. It’s heavenly.”

  “I knew you would enjoy it.”

  He slipped an arm about her waist and kissed her. “Let’s return to the house. We both need a bath. The servants will have finished unpacking for us now. And after our baths?” His eyes gleamed. “Plan to spend some private time with me, Lady Rutherford.”

  Emma anxiously belted her dressing gown, wondering what would come next. They’d returned to the house and Marcus had called for baths for them both. Mrs. Perkins had supervised the servants who brought the buckets full of steaming water into Emma’s dressing room and had two warm ones for rinsing placed beside the tub.

  “You didn’t bring your lady’s maid with you from London, I see,” the housekeeper said.

  “I don’t have one at the moment,” she said, which was true. Of course, Emma hadn’t ever had one but she didn’t wish to reveal that.

  “Aggie has served the dowager countess a few times when she has come to Shorecrest for brief trips and left her own maid in London. Would you like me to summon her?” Mrs. Perkins asked.

  “Not now,” Emma said. “I am very tired after the wedding and our journey south. Lord Rutherford said we’d simply have a tray in our room so I have no need to dress for dinner. Perhaps tomorrow, Aggie could help me dress for the day.”

  “I’ll let her know. Would you like her help bathing?”

  “No, I’ll be fine,” she assured the housekeeper.

  In truth, Emma wanted to be alone. She poured some of her scented oil into the bath and swirled her hand through it before undressing. She could have used Aggie’s help in that but didn’t want to call her. After a bit of a struggle, she shed her clothes and slipped into the water. The bath relaxed her and yet also restored her energy.

  Now, she awaited her husband—and the rest of the night.

  She paced the room and then paused, looking out the window. Her view was of the gardens. She enjoyed gardening and couldn’t wait to walk through them tomorrow with Marcus. Her husband was proving to be the best decision she’d ever made. She only hoped he regarded her the same way.

  A light knock sounded on her door and Emma went to answer it. She opened the door and saw Marcus standing there, wearing a dressing gown of midnight blue which enhanced the blue of his eyes. His throat was bare and she saw a bit of chest hair peeking out from the robe. She bit her lip, realizing he was bare beneath it.

  “Would you care to join me in the master bedchamber?”

  “Yes.” The one syllable came out a whisper.

  He touched her cheek. “It’s all right to be nervous.”

  “Is it?” She didn’t know. Nerves rippled through her.

  “Would you rather us stay here?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head. “I just don’t know, Marcus. I don’t know anything. I’m so worried I won’t please you.”

  His thumb rubbed along her bottom lip, causing her pulse to quicken. “You already do please me in so many ways, Emma. Did you enjoy this morning in bed?”

  She sensed the color rising in her cheeks. “Yes.”

  “And have you enjoyed our kisses?”

  “Very much.”

  “This is merely the next step. We’ll take it together. Only when you’re ready, though. If you’d like to wait, that’s what we’ll do.”

  “No. No. I want to. I’m just a little apprehensive.”

  His thumb stopped. “I can allay your fears.”

  He gave her a brief, soft kiss. “Better?”

  “Yes.”

  Marcus slipped an arm about her waist. His other went under her knees and he lifted her up. She looped her arms around his neck. He walked to the door and she leaned down to open it. He took her down the corridor and she helped open that door, as well. They entered what must serve as a study for him. She saw a desk and several shel
ves of books. Two chairs stood next to the window. She hadn’t time to see the rest because he whisked her through another door.

  Her eyes went to the massive bed. Candles burned brightly everywhere. Marcus set her on her feet but his hands lingered at her waist.

  “Would it help you to know that I’m a little fearful myself?”

  “Why? You are the man. You have all the experience. Why would you be worried?”

  His thumbs caressed her ribcage. “Because it’s very important to me that I please you. I want it to be good for you, Emma. I want you to want to make love to me. I don’t want it to seem like some obligation you must fulfill. I want our coming together to bring you joy. Your happiness is very important to me.”

  “Because I brought you so much money?”

  He frowned. Anger flashed in his eyes. “Enough with the money, Emma. Yes, I needed to wed a woman with a large dowry. Yes, you were that woman. But that’s not what I want us to focus on. Forget about the money. Think about us. You and I. Together. I want us to be true partners. I want us to be lovers and friends. I want tonight to be the start of a lifetime of adventures for us. Are you willing to come on that journey with me?”

  “I would follow you anywhere.”

  “Then this journey begins tonight. Now.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Marcus unknotted the belt of her dressing gown and pushed it from her shoulders. It fell to the ground. His fingers skimmed her throat and danced about her collarbone. Anticipation grew within Emma. She licked her lips.

  He moved to his own gown’s belt and untied it. It parted slightly, revealing more of the muscular chest and golden hair.

  Marcus took one of her hands and placed the palm against his heart. Instead of a steady, constant beat under her fingertips, his heart raced wildly and erratically.

  “That’s what you do to me, Emma.”

  Her palm moved along his chest, feeling her way. Her other hand joined it and she began running them lightly across the expanse. Her fingertips found his flat nipples and teased them. He swallowed, his gaze locked with hers. She licked her lips again and he groaned. She tweaked his nipples and then dragged her fingernail across them. Suddenly, his fingers seized her wrists.