His Willful Bride (Victorian Brides Book 1) Page 6

  “Sorry, but this still makes me giggle,” Charlotte tittered. “Just as she sat down I put the cream cake underneath her.”

  “I had heard you’d put an entire sponge, covered in cream, on her chair!” Edward exclaimed.

  “You did? No, it was just one little cake, but if I’d been able to use an entire cream-covered sponge I gladly would have, although, when I think about it, she would have felt that.”

  “She didn’t feel the cake you put there?”

  “No, she had no idea.”

  “None of the women saw you put it on her chair?”

  “I am much more clever than that, Edward,” she giggled. “No, they didn’t, but they were still happy to accuse me.”

  “You got off scot-free, didn’t you?”

  “I did,” Charlotte gleefully replied. “Auntie was sure I was the guilty party, I mean, there was no other explanation, but as I said to her, who knows how that cake ended up on the chair?”

  “Young lady, if you ever do anything like that again, you will receive some very serious swats. In fact, I might think about giving them to you anyway.”

  “I wouldn’t have told you if I’d known that.”

  “Then you would be facing extra smacks for refusing to answer my question.”

  “I don’t think this is very fair,” she grumbled.

  “Do you think what you did to your aunt Mildred was very fair?”

  “I most certainly do. I had no desire to go to that stupid, tedious lunch, and I’d told her so. She wouldn’t listen, but she never asked me to attend another one, so I considered my little prank a triumph. I still do!”

  “You are such an imp,” he said, shaking his head.

  “That’s one of the reasons you love me,” she mused.

  “Indeed it is, and I think we’ve had enough conversation. I think it’s time I learned a little more about my precious new wife,” he said, lowering his voice and raising a single, wicked eyebrow.

  “What would you like to know about me?” she asked coyly, titillated by the change in his demeanor.

  “I want to know if you like this…” he whispered, touching his lips to her neck and softly sliding his tongue against her skin.

  “Ooh, yes, most definitely,” she moaned, closing her eyes.

  “Hmmm, and what if I put my mouth here?” he continued, journeying to the hollow of her neck.

  “Edward, yes, you make me feel so much.”

  “Such a beautiful bosom,” he purred, pressing his lips to the fabric covering her breasts. “I must see the skin under this dress.”

  “Edward,” she gasped as he began to unbutton the tightly closed bodice.

  “Is that a breath of fear, or modesty, or something else?” he murmured as his fingers continued to make their way down the garment.

  “It is everything,” she panted, “but I don’t want you to stop, even though we are in a carriage. Surely this must be scandalous.”

  “You are a fearless soul,” he muttered, lowering his lips to kiss the skin above her cleavage.

  “Edward, you are making me feel quite faint.”

  “Do you like this,” he muttered, moving his hand to her breast to give it a warm squeeze.

  “Oh, yes, sir, I do, I do.”

  “You called me sir, and that’s something I like very much,” he said, squeezing again.

  “Sir,” she repeated, hoping for, and gratefully receiving, another warm squeeze as a reward.

  “And if I were to slide my hand under your garments?”

  Lifting his eyes, seeing her head had rolled back and her eyes were closed, he moved his hand to the top of her open bodice and pushed past the underwear, molding his hand around her fleshy mound. She let out a strange cry, then to his joy she arched her back, pressing against his grasp.

  “I love that, sir.”

  Searching out her nipple as best he could within the confines of her clothing, he stirred it between his thumb and forefinger, eliciting a long murmur of pleasure. He dallied a few moments, then carefully removing his hand, he brought his lips to hers, kissing her fervently, touching her lips with his tongue.

  “Edward, you have taken my breath away,” she murmured as he broke apart and cradled her.

  “I shall be doing much more than that later. I shall make you feel very happy indeed.”

  “I am already so happy. How can I be happier?”

  “You shall see, sweet girl, provided you behave properly.”

  “I will, I promise,” she swore, curling against him.

  “I’m sure you will, at least until some naughty little prank comes to mind, or you decide to defy me.”

  “I shall ignore my naughty thoughts.”

  “I’m sure you will try.”

  “You don’t believe me?” she said indignantly, lifting her head from the crook of his shoulder to stare up at him.

  “Of course I believe you. You will try, but it’s in your nature to be willful and a bit mischievous.”

  “Maybe, but you’ll see, I’ll be an angel,” she said firmly.

  “It makes me very pleased that you want to be,” he said, running his finger around the frame of her face.

  “Edward, why must you spank me again?” she asked sweetly. “I’m still tender from before.”

  “There are certain things you must understand.”

  “What things? Just tell me. You don’t need to spank me to tell me.”

  “Indeed I do,” he said firmly.

  “But why?”

  “I thought you were going to be an angel. This very conversation demonstrates why I must take my hand to your bottom again.”

  “I don’t understand. I was only asking.”

  “You may not question my authority.”

  “I’m not questioning your authority,” she frowned. “I just don’t think it’s fair that—”

  “Charlotte, enough!”

  “But—”

  “Look! We’re nearing my neighborhood. You’ll soon see your new London home.”

  “But the spanking thing, I want to talk more about it!”

  “My goodness. You are a stubborn young woman,” he declared, shaking his head. “Go and sit opposite me. One more word and I’ll spank you right here in this carriage!”

  “No!”

  “Yes, now do as I say, go and sit opposite me.”

  “But I like being here, next to you,” she bleated.

  “That’s it,” he said sharply, grabbing her wrist and yanking her over his lap.

  “No, Edward,” she squealed.

  “This is most inconvenient,” he said sternly, “but you will learn I mean what I say. Darn these confounded petticoats.”

  Hastily pushing away the folds of silk, he landed several hard smacks, then unceremoniously shuffled her to the seat across from him. Then, to her chagrin, he removed the small, black notebook and gold clutch pencil from his pocket.

  “No, not your book,” she cried, trying to smooth her dress.

  “We will be pulling up to my front door shortly,” he remarked as he scribbled. “You are quite red in the face. Please catch your breath as I see to things outside. Helen and Reese will take care of the unpacking while we have tea to refresh ourselves, then, my dearest,” he said, lifting his eyes, “I will see to you.”

  Though already scarlet, Charlotte felt a fresh hot blush creep up her neck and over her face. The butterflies had begun their dance, and she was keenly aware of the strange wetness between her legs that had begun as he’d toyed with her, then shockingly spanked her. Not sure how to respond, she pushed aside the curtain and gazed out the carriage window at the hustle and bustle of the busy city streets.

  Putting away his notebook and pencil, he studied his bride. She possessed a passionate soul, a sharp mind, and a willful nature, and she had lacked authority for many years. Her aunt and uncle had been ill-equipped to handle such a complicated creature, and he could well imagine how frustrated and exasperated they must have been, but her strong will an
d independent spirit aroused him, and he was greatly looking forward to his life with her. Without even meaning to, she would constantly challenge him and keep him on his toes, and he knew there was every possibility she would, on occasion, be one step ahead of him. She had wile and instinct. It was inevitable.

  “I believe we have arrived,” he said as the carriage rolled to a stop.

  “How exciting,” she beamed, determined to put their small fracas behind her.

  “Wait in here until I fetch you,” he said, climbing from the carriage.

  She was about to object. She wanted to be on the street, to see the comings and goings. Most especially, she wanted to watch him take charge of things. A subtle feeling of excitement would flow through her entire body whenever she observed him governing people, but she managed to hold her tongue and sit quietly as he left her and closed the carriage door.

  Edward knew she was eager to leave the cab, but making her sit and wait was important. He needed to exert his authority when any opportunity presented itself. It was training. Obedience was built on the small building blocks as well as the large. He was laying a foundation.

  The front door opened and his butler, Harding, appeared. Edward introduced the austere-looking man to Helen, and as he issued his directives, he could feel Charlotte’s eyes on him. Taking his time, he spent a few minutes discussing recent matters of his household with Harding, purposely making her wait, then finally turned back to the carriage, and waving Harding away, opened the carriage door himself.

  “Come along, Charlotte.”

  “At last,” she exclaimed.

  He broke into a smile. It had been difficult for his young bride to be patient, and he was proud of her.

  “You can be a good girl when you want to be,” he said quietly as she climbed out.

  “Yes, I can,” she said, then unable to resist, she added, “as you say, when I want to be.”

  “I hope, now that you belong to me, you will want to be good girl more than you don’t,” he murmured.

  Lifting her hand to his elbow, she clutched it tightly.

  “Yes, Edward, I’m sure I will.”

  Chapter Seven

  After introducing Charlotte to the staff, then discreetly instructing Harding they were not to be disturbed, Edward took her on a quick tour of the three-story, Mayfair townhouse, excluding the staff quarters, which were below the stairs. The first floor housed two reception rooms—one grand, the other small but elegant—the dining hall, and a smaller, intimate dining room, and at the back of the house, a large kitchen. The second story offered a drawing room, a library, a study, and an informal salon.

  “I know you’re used to your uncle’s majestic home,” Edward remarked, taking her hand and leading her up the last flight of stairs, “but I’m only here once a week, sometimes less, so a residence this size suits my purposes. My country estate is much more like your uncle’s.”

  “Edward, I think this is lovely,” she said, smiling. “It’s cozy.”

  “I suppose it is,” he said thoughtfully. “I’d never considered describing it that way.”

  Walking her along the wide hallway towards the double doors at the end, he showed her each of the three guest rooms, but reaching the last, he paused and took both her hands.

  “This is for you, Charlotte. I hope you like it.”

  Pushing open the door, Charlotte entered a bedchamber decorated in lemon and white toile, a white triple-mirrored vanity, a gleaming brass bed, and a white marble fireplace. When she moved into the bathroom, she found a canopy shower and let out a squeal.

  “Edward, it’s perfect,” she beamed. “Thank you.”

  “I’m glad you’re pleased,” he said proudly, and he was.

  Edward had taken great care when he’d worked with the decorator. He wanted Charlotte’s room to be happy and uplifting, and the pale lemon and white had achieved his goal.

  “Now, my quarters,” he announced.

  Ushering her back into the hallway, they walked the few steps to the double doors, and pushing them open, he gestured for her to move ahead. As she walked in, she let out a small gasp. It was a man’s room, with dark coffered ceilings, masculine but exquisite furnishings, and a large, dark wood, four-posted, canopied bed, draped with heavy burgundy fabric. Settling in his forest green velvet armchair by the unlit fireplace, Edward watched his new bride as she wandered through the room, taking it all in.

  “It’s simply marvelous,” she declared as she returned from inspecting his bathroom. “I just love all that wood around the tub, and you have a needle shower. How exciting.”

  “Delighted that you approve,” he said warmly.

  “I like the room you had decorated for me, very much, and I’m grateful, but I want to be in here with you, always!”

  “Come here. I want you to kneel in front of me.”

  “Kneel in front of you?”

  “That’s what I said, directly in front of me, on the rug.”

  A flurry of anticipation rippled through her, and feeling quivery, she moved across to him and dropped to her knees.

  “So, my beauty,” he said softly, leaning forward and locking her eyes, “it is time for us to take care of our unfinished affairs, then we will proceed with, shall we say, other pleasures.”

  “I thought we were going to have tea,” she breathed.

  “I’ve decided tea can wait.”

  “Can’t we go straight to the other pleasures? I swear, you really don’t need to spank me further. I’ll be perfectly good, I promise.”

  “Now, now, don’t start with that again! Not unless you want additional punishment.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Sorry, sir,” he corrected her.

  “Oh, sorry, sir,” she said, then feeling the rush of butterflies again, she added, “I have a request.”

  “A request? What might that be?”

  “I have brought something, uh, special, to wear for you,” she said shyly. “I would very much like to take a shower and change into it.”

  “Ah, yes, I understand. Very well, but before you go there’s something we must discuss first.”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Kneeling before me as you are, does that feel good to you, does it feel natural?”

  A slight frown crossed her brow and she slowly nodded.

  “Strangely, it does. When you first told me to kneel here I thought it was odd, but it doesn’t feel that way. Natural, yes, sir. It does feel natural. How peculiar.”

  “From now on, if I instruct you to go to my chair, this is what I mean. We could be dining, or having tea, or if we’re in the country, we could be walking in the gardens, but if I say, go to my chair, it means you will immediately come to my bedchamber, kneel in front of the chair and wait. In my country home there is a chair placed just as this one is, next to the fireplace. One more thing. When you’re kneeling like this, or whenever I discipline you, you must always call me sir.”

  Charlotte felt a chill spill down her spine, and the now-familiar hot blush crawl across her face.

  “As you wait,” he continued, “you will place your hands behind your back and lower your eyes. Do you have any questions?”

  “No, sir,” she breathed.

  “One last thing—if I direct you to my chair, it would be unwise to protest. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Uh, yes, sir.”

  Placing his finger under her chin, he tilted up her head and kissed her. It was a warm, gentle, lingering kiss, a kiss that brought goosebumps to life under her finery, and sent a wash of moisture between her legs.

  “Edward,” she whispered as he pulled back.

  “Yes?” he murmured.

  “My heart, it is racing.”

  “Do you still wish to take your bath?”

  “No, yes, no, yes. Yes, I do, I want to, uh, present myself to you.”

  “How charming,” he sighed. “You are a divine creature. See, you need your room already, and there will be other times you will want your
privacy. You must have room for your many clothes, and Helen must have a place in which to dress you.”

  “Oh, yes, I hadn’t thought about that. Um, I don’t want anyone to see me as I come back here. I know it’s just the room next door, but still.”

  “Just as in your uncle’s house, there’s a call cord by the fireplace. That will bring Helen up, and once she has helped you undress and has filled your tub, you tell her she’s to go downstairs and remain there. The staff will not come above stairs unless I ring for them. This is a house just like any other. The servants know their place. You don’t have to worry.”

  “Oh, that’s a relief, thank you, Edward.”

  “Off with you then, but don’t keep me waiting too long.”

  “I won’t, sir,” she promised, rising to her feet.

  Edward watched her move from the room, then stood up, stretched, and ambled across to the window. Gazing out at the street below, he thought about the many responsibilities facing his new wife. She had much to learn in the weeks and months ahead. She would be the lady of the house, both in his modest London home and his country estate. It wasn’t a small task, and she had no experience.

  His relatives had raised their eyebrows in bewilderment when he’d informed them of his decision to marry Lady Charlotte Winthrop. She was certainly from an appropriate family. The earl of Cheltenham was revered among his peers, and Lady Charlotte, being an only child, came with an impressive fortune left in trust by her father, but she was considered frivolous and flighty, and too young and inexperienced for a man such as Lord Pemberly III. Objections had been raised, and though he was cognizant of their concerns, he was unmoved. Lady Charlotte was the bride for him, and he was prepared to personally undertake the training necessary to make her an accomplished mistress of their home.

  “I should freshen up myself,” he mumbled, idly rubbing his hungry cock.

  Walking across the colorful Persian rugs gracing the dark wood floor, he entered his bathroom and slowly stripped off his clothes. A small smile crossed his lips as he placed them neatly on the chair Reese had left expressly for the purpose. Edward had discreetly enjoyed the company of many ladies over the years, and had learned how to efficiently undress without help from his trusted valet.