December 2nd Chapter 2 of the free romance novel- unedited

I wish I could say things were different today. But they aren't. Everything is the same. Yesterday I was told that I act like a dyke, and should stop; (humor being I am gay), I told them they should focus on not being a dick but if they needed help I would get rid of theirs.

Little Violent- not true though, I would never do something like that.

I have been writing though.... nothing exeptional but acceptable. Second chapter of the newest novel... Consider it a free romance Novel... So if you like reading them and want to leave a comment I would love it, I can only get better if people help me. :) LOTS OF LOVE


Jess was slightly worried as she waited for the carriage to drive her over to Drake’s home; her dress was low-bodiced and did extenuated her narrow waist and full hips, and she worried that she would come off like a hussy. Jess smiled though, knowing that she was not a hussy in any sense of the word, the only time she had been really kissed was with the Duke of York.

          Wesley, she thought, goodness what if he is there tonight? Just the thought of her being near made a tingle run through her very nearly exposed breasts. Jess promised herself though, that she would not cause a scandal at the party. How wrong she would prove to be. 

          The prospects were good, Wesley mused as he stepped into Drake’s Ballroom, the young simpering misses, were the same lot that attended all of the ton’s parties and were obviously hoping that a change in clime would be the deciding factor in roping some poor gentleman to marry them. HE watched the familiar misses dressed in their pastels ready their reticules and fans, ready to drop them; knowing that as a gentleman Wesley would be forced to pick them up. He would be forced to endure this numerous times this evening, then talk chastely about nothing with the young Lady, barely out of leading strings.  Wesley made a cursory look around the room, where was Lady Wilmore?

          He had not seen her, before Cohen rushed over smiling wide, “Hello dear brother!”

          Wesley merely inclined his head, “Cohen.”

          Cohen pursed his lips, as if he was not inclined to endure his brother’s frequent black moods, “What is it?”

          Wesley grunted and walked on, hoping his brother would get the hint that they were not going to talk anytime soon, his brother did not pick up the indication and fell into Wesley’s footsteps.

          They happened upon the majority of the Assembly of Cads, they all hailed Wesley upon arrival, “He graces us with his presence at a ball; well what is the honor?” William laughed. 

          Cohen replied, “Interesting choice of words from a ducal power to another, your grace. By the way, where is Drake?”

“Oh, off doing host duties somewhere, it is his party.” With this regular pleasantry over, the group resumed its normal bawdy chatter as Wesley continued to scan the room for Jessica, utterly uninterested.

          Wesley spotted her—good god—could she have worn a more revealing dress? He felt immediately aroused as he surveyed her. Her creamy lush breasts were almost indecently exposed and her lovely arms swung unimpeded.

 But it felt like cold water washed over him as he saw the throng of men that were eying her as well.  He fought the urge to stomp over to her and throw his jacket over ample décolletage.

           He saw the most brazen of the men walk up to her and engage her in conversation, his gut tightened at the easy smiles she threw him and then nodded. She placed her arm on his shirtsleeve and was appalled. Was she fast? Naïve? Wesley then realized he had been focusing so hard on Lady Wilmore that he hadn’t noticed that the orchestra had stuck up a waltz, this realization did not make his chest relax. He was jealous seeing her in the young buck’s arms, he fought going over an delivering a challenge, or less honorably ripping his arms off.  

          As Lady Wilmore and her partner turned to walk to the floor, Wesley saw for the first time that her dance partner was. A low oath and an almost growl emanated from Wesley’s chest, Sir Ian Cuthbridge. The scoundrel! His title was not representative of the man’s character, Cuthbridge was an evil, foul man, and was he was the reason Wesley had even come to Brighton, to investigate him for his crimes.

The crimes Ian was accused and guilty of were numerous and included at the very least murder, and he had his hands around Lady Wilmore. As the last of the music died away, Lady Wilmore beamed at Ian and he led her off the floor. She turned away and left him.

          As Jessica pulled away, seeking the powder room, she smiled, after meeting the lovely Sir Cuthbridge. She was dismayed to find, the feel of his arms were cold and empty compared to the arousing feel of York’s.  Shaking her head at the shameful thoughts, Jess walked down a hallway and was suddenly pulled into a guest room. Jessica was too shocked to even say anything. She had seen him from across the dance floor, the haughty and far too devilishly handsome Duke of York. He had haunted her the previous night, keeping her awake with the memory of his hot kisses and scintillating touches.

          But now, he stood with his back to the door agitation rolling off him in waves. His eyes were like ice and his mouth was taut. He was glaring daggers at her, but said nothing.

          Jess sighed inwardly, what could she have done to anger him so completely. Jess thought conspiratorially, maybe he is just an angry, high handed man. Schooling her thoughts she inquired wryly, “Your grace?”

           If possible he became angrier at her churlish display, his mouth curved down again, and “I will remind you, I am Wesley.”

          She almost snorted, the situation was so ridiculous, “Fine, Wesley, what can I help you with?”

          She watched him push away from the door and come nearer like a predator closing in on prey, “What the bloody hell were you thinking dancing with Ian Cuthbridge?”

          Jess was confused; she tried to think back, Sir Cuthbridge had been cordial, attractive, and attentive. “Well he asked me to dance, and to be honest I thought he was very good at it. What is the matter with that?”

          Wesley erupted, “You are so naïve, and you just accept anyone who asks you to dance? Do you even know that some men are not looking just to talk to you? And if they would have been thinking about it, you didn’t help. What are you wearing?”

          Jess lost her humor; here was just another man trying to dictate what she was allowed to do, she refused to let the highly desirable thought of him being jealous take root in her mind. “I am not naïve, just because all you think about is lewd activities does not mean all men think the same way, and besides, I would be able to take care of myself.”

          Wesley laughed and then his lips crushed down upon hers, inciting a tiny moan of pleasure out of her. His lips were hot and slick as he made her open for him. His tongue ruthlessly claiming, stroking, a wave of heat ran through Jess and she arched her back in heated wantonness.

          In response Wesley grabbed Jess’s waist and led her to the plush bed, his lips never leaving hers. As his mouth plundered hers, he brought his hands up and cupped the roundness of her breast, she gasped against his mouth. His hands then began pinching and kneading her breasts until her nipples were taut and she was moaning with pleasure. 

          At the unconscious declaration of pleasure Wesley abandoned her mouth and began kissing his way down her face. Laying kisses on her jaw and ear and nape, he continued down to the exposed valley between her décolletage, and pressed kisses there. 

          He left one hand eliciting heat from tormenting her nipples while his other hand starting drawing the hem of the dress up, from her calf, to her knee, and to the soft beauty of her thigh.

          “What the bloody hell is going on?” A harsh voice demanded from the doorway. 

Wesley groaned against Jess’s chest, while Jess whimpered and pulled her skirts back down. It was not going to end well; Wesley knew the scandals that such actions inevitably created.  Wesley stood off the bed and assisted Jessica’s standing, she cringed into Wesley as she saw their audience.

“What do you want?” Looking at his brother and Drake, who Wesley noted looked furious.

Jess found her voice, “Drake, It is not what it looks like.”

Wesley wheeled around looking at her, wondering how she knew his friend, a jealous streak flew through him, irrationally, in what circumstances were they acquainted?

“Be quiet Jessica. Wesley, I am going to kill you. You are going to ruin my favorite cousin? Are you truly the blackguard, ravishing every Lady with pure virtue?”

Wesley felt like a blow had hit him, knowing that he had been fondling and, if they hadn’t been interrupted, bedding his best friend’s cousin.  However he was absurdly gleeful that he knew her name, Jessica. “Drake, remember yourself.” He said through tight lips.

 “If a challenge must be laid down, I would like to know about right now,” Drake demanded and assessing his cousin, “Get your hands off her.”  

Jess spoke up hotly, though shame had filled her, though she had undoubtedly enjoyed their tryst, she was dismayed that it had been discovered, “First, how do you know each other?”

Both Wesley and Drake ignored her, instead watching each other closely with hate filled eyes. The spare man walked out from behind Drake, “Oh they have been friends for years, darling.”

Despite the tense situation, Jess smiled, “And your name sir?”

“I am Cohen Ketterick, Marquis of Kent and Wesley’s brother; I am so pleased to make your acquaintance even under these odd circumstances.” Jess smiled and decided to like him on the spot, but she was pulled back to the scandal with five simple words.

“Tomorrow, you pick the place.” Drake spat at what was apparently one of his oldest friends.

“I do believe, I supposed to be your second, I hope you realize, that may be impossible.” Wesley drawled.  

          Cohen laughed nervously, “Isn’t there any other way to settle this?” His face betrayed the fear of losing either his brother or friend.

          Drake thought for a moment, “If you are willing to do the honorable thing… I suppose I would accept that.”

          Wesley grimaced, but spoke, “Of course, I will.”

          Jess tried to follow their bewildering conversation, but failed and got fed up and asked, “What are you talking about?”

          Wesley looked down into Jess’s face and she saw tightness there, “We are getting married.”

          Jess’s eyes flew wide and she screeched, “No we certainly are not! Drake, I refuse to marry him.” Her heart raced and face flushed even more with his almost calm declaration of intention. That was not the proposal she wanted, not that she was every really wanting to marry anyone. But in her schoolgirl fantasies she knew that she wanted a besotted man telling her his declarations of love before begging her for her hand in marriage.

          Drake face had become calm, as if everything would be settled; his cousin’s honor intact and there would be no duel tomorrow, “Yes, Jess. You will marry him.” Then he spoke to Cohen, “Well sir, we had better go make an announcement.” With that Drake stalked out of the door and Cohen left winking at his brother and Jess.

          Wesley turned to Jess, “Alright, voice your opinions.”

          Jess was aghast, “We can’t get married. We aren’t in love, I don’t know anything about you, and I am not anyone’s property to have them make decisions for me.” She felt a tear form in her eye, but staunchly refused to let it fall, instead wanting to throw a punch.

          Wesley sighed then addressed her concerns one at a time, “Jessica, People get married for other reasons other than love, and one is lust. And lust is something we know about each other. Another is a dynastic marriage, which you could see this as; it is an excellent match for you. And no, you are not property; however you have to say yes. Because if you should not, consider that you will be socially ruined, as Drake is spreading the news and then you contradict his claims. You would be seen as a jilt and a tease, to turn down the advances of the undisputed most eligible bachelor in England. I am prepared to let that happen, but it is not I that will not have a chance of marrying again.” 

          Jess thought for a moment about her father, the scandal would lose her respectability and she would probably not be able to marry. Her father would be crushed, she not being able to fulfill his last wish. In fact she thought wryly, he would probably be thrilled with this turn of events. “I will not force you to marry me. You will have to propose of your own free will.”

          “No darling, I am not making this into anything it is not. We are going to marry. I will send you the details about where and when.” Jess nodded sullenly and felt horrible about her forcing the light out of his face.  

“Damn it,” Wesley released a low oath and ran his fingers through his hair. He had been caught with Lady Wilmore—Jessica—and he had to admit, it was his fault. She was so damnably naïve, thinking that her dancing with Ian Cuthbridge was not inflammatory. His chest tightened at the memory of the wicked rake’s face when he asked her to dance, one of savage possessive need.

          Wesley supposed that had driven him to pull her away, he really had intended to tell her to stop. But even though she was raging at him, she was beautiful; Wesley grimaced at the tightening in his groin at the memory of her furious blushes. She had thought she was so in control, but Wesley had foolishly shown her how easily it was to take her out of control. Her kisses had been unlearned but passionate, and they had driven him wild, thus leading them to be found by Drake.

          Drake, damn him, Wesley ruminated, he was her cousin! How was it possible that he had never mentioned his stunning cousin? Or had he, and Wesley just hadn’t paid attention? And, Wesley uttered a low oath, if it had been any other friend, he would have fought the marriage proposal, but he couldn’t imagine a more stunning woman to be shackled to. But that would be what their union was, a leg shackle.

          He was not exactly disappointed about his bachelorhood ending but he would have preferred that it would have come on his own terms. Wesley left the ball and walked staunchly to his carriage and journeyed home to write his solicitor about procuring a marriage license.

 

The ball was ending, the last remaining guests were deeply inebriated; they clung to both the furniture and the idea that the notorious hotheaded Duke of York was getting married. Jess was there for every last congratulations and every single one stung with fresh indignation. She was not to be passed from handler to handler.

Jess had been forced to stay until the end because she was being driven home in Drake’s curricle, so that he could keep an eye on her and so Drake would be able to tell Jess’s father.

Jess spent most of the ride in an enraged silence, but quickly realized that Drake was largely unaffected. She tried a different tactic, “I am going to run away.”

He looked over at her and smiled a large wolfish smile, “No you aren’t, you aren’t even mad at me. You know that you like him a little. You might even thank me.”

Jess was taken aback, she was still confused on her thoughts about Wesley but she knew she couldn’t talk about the feelings that he erupted within her. Blushing furiously Jess stammered, “I will never forgive you for this.”

Drake looked down at her, and mentally urged the horses to go faster. “That may be, I am sorry, but it is my decision.”

They subsided into an uncomfortable silence, but they quickly reached the Viscount of Bury’s manor. Drake swept across the foyer, he was so often here that he didn’t bother with all the pomp and circumstance.

At the sound of heavy footsteps, Marianna hurried into the hall and assessed the angry faces, and said in a tired voice, “Where is the fire?”

Drake threw a wan smile at her and continued to the ornate staircase that led to Bury’s bedroom.  Marianna fell in step with Jess and they ascended the stairs two behind Drake. Jess felt nothing, neither Marianna nor her Father would be helpful. They would be overjoyed at the news that someone had overlooked her rebellious streak and had proposed.

Drake held the door open for the two ladies, and Jess held her head high and smiled. There was no reason that they should know that she was unhappy about the marriage; they really didn’t need to know the reason behind the proposal.

Bury was lying on the same bed, his normal pallor was offset by the flush at having so many people visit him. Drake, Marianna, and Jess stood far away from him but he spoke with concern, “Drake, how are you dear child, beware, I am very contagious.”

Drake shook his head at his mother’s brother, the sentimental caring fool, “I am very well, Uncle. In fact I am overjoyed, I bring great tidings. The Duke of York, Wesley Ketterick asked Jess to marry him, and she said yes.”

Bury’s smile was heartbreakingly big, a tear slid down his papery cheek, “My beautiful daughter, I am so happy that you have found your husband. He will make you so happy.” Bury was so overjoyed at the prospect that his sole descendant was getting married and maybe having kids that he would be able to see, Jess didn’t have the heart to be sullen.

“Yes, I am very excited, Father. Wesley will be a great husband.” Jess said and noted that even she may believe herself, she was excited. But she cautioned herself, she didn’t know him well, she may hate Wesley Ketterick.

Bury’s face fell slightly and his voice shook, “I am very happy, but I need all of you to leave; consumption is highly contagious and it would not do to have you catch it with such happy tidings afoot.”

Drake and Jess smiled softly and walked out, leaving Marianna in with Bury. Jess turned to Drake as she paused outside her rooms, “I am glad he was happy. But still, I am not going to forgive you. You took away my choice.”

Drake looked through his long lashes at her and said, “Your welcome.” He smirked and walked out of her house.

Jess walked into her room and dismissed her handmaid. She sat down on her bed and began to sob. She sobbed for her loss of independence and mourned her loss to come.

The missive came in the late afternoon the next day, scrawled in his large handwriting was “Have secured marriage license. Two Tomorrow, Drake’s Parlor.” Jess frowned; of course they couldn’t have a chapel wedding, not with this aberration of a marriage. He was so cold, not filled with the love that she had imagined her husband would expound. However her fiancé had more than enough lust. Jess shivered thinking about the impending wedding night; she wasn’t sure with nervousness or excitement.

 

Jess lamented the tidings, she was surprised with a white dress, not a wedding dress but with a coming out dress, which was not in any way appropriate, but she did the best she could. The dress was gaudy, with a  high ridiculously modest neckline and large silk flowers that spread her skirt to wide proportions. The dress she mused had not been made for someone of her shape, the skirts making her look wide of hip and small of bust, completely unflattering. She rolled her eyes, no one would be expecting anything, and everyone invited knew the circumstances of their marriage, with the exception of Marianna and her father, who thought they were getting married so fast out of love.

She sat in one of the upstairs rooms waiting to be fetched for the nuptials. She sat contemplating the large window that the room held, considering if she could escape. The dream became a necessity as she sat there, her heart beat wildly, he would be able to do anything to her, and she would be completely at his mercy. She would have no rights, what if he beat her, he would have the right to, he had the right to do anything, Christ!

Jess knew that it was probably a long drop but she shrugged, nothing ventured, nothing gained. She hastened to the window and looked out, opening it and with a shimmy and a long inelegant lunge, she was through. She tried to take a step, and felt a tug back, her skirt! A rose at her thigh was caught on the window pane. She was struggling to get free when there was a knock on the door. She squirmed even faster.

“Hello?” Cohen Ketterick opened the door and saw Jess half out the window trying to get her skirts free. He broke into loud guffaws. “Need some help, Sis?

Jess shot him a look, “Yes please, and don’t you dare tell anyone.”

“What that you were running away from a marriage that you didn’t want? I would never. I am nearly insulted that you would think so low of me.”

Cohen’s fingers closed over the silk and with surprising deftness, he pulled her free, and helped her back into the room. “But Jessica, I should say in my brother’s defense: while he is a rough fellow, he is incredibly loyal and if you give him a chance you may love him and he, you in return. He is my best friend, but if you need anything come find me.”

Jess smiled with real enthusiasm, though she doubted his theory on love, she appreciated the admiration Cohen had for his brother.

“I am to lead you to Drake, so he may walk you down the aisle. I am the best man, and may I just say, you look perfect, like the perfect blushing bride.”

Jess smiled and permitted Cohen to guide her hand to his arm, she supposed that it was good he had come; anyone else and she would have torn her dress and ran out the window. She sighed, she was really getting married, to a man, she didn’t love. Lusted after definitely, but Jess was suddenly frightened, they were going to consummate the marriage. Tonight. Jess felt her blood rise, imagining his hands running over her body, taking her. Jess felt her blood cool, imagining him laughing at her, imagining him being rough and vicious and domineering.

As if he sensed Jess’s mental turmoil, Cohen moved his hand over hers and whispered, “It is going to be great.” She merely nodded, not trusting her voice. Cohen led her down through the doors and Jess felt a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. Meeting Drake, Cohen moved her hand to his shirtsleeve and whispered in her ear, “If you need anything, I am just on the other side of Wesley.” He swept off through the wide ornate doors that held the small assembly of mostly his friends, and Wesley. Jess gulped.

Drake looked pained, “Jess, you understand why I had to do this right?”

          Jess answered meekly, “No, I am not your plaything. But now I will be another man’s property, I am resigned. So lead me in there.”

          Drake frowned, but he did as she said, hearing his cue, he lead Jess through the doors and despite the group of people being small, she felt like a bride. She looked frantically for her father and Marianna, he was reclining softly, but his eyes beamed joy at her. She knew that he wished to be the one to lead down the aisle. She blew him a kiss. Marianna was crying softly next to him, she smiled weakly and renewed her sobs.

          As she had been looking for her own support, she just then looked at her husband-to-be, she cursed under her breath. He cut an impressive figure, his shoulders molded from the finest bronze, his blue dining jacket was cut in the modern fashion and made him look lean and elegant, though Jess knew that he needed no help in that department. His legs were swathed in the finest biscuit colored pantaloons and revealed strong legs. Her breath faltered, he had devilishly good looks, and she felt intimidated as she looked into his eyes.

          His face held a glint of humor, and Jess realized that she had been rather obvious in her perusal of his body and she blushed. His eyes took a similar route, traveling down her body slowly then reclaiming her eyes and smiling. The smile though predatory was charming and she couldn’t help but smile too.  She was so absorbed looking at his every expression, that she was surprised when Drake abruptly stopped.

          They were wed, the minister saying his piece about the sanctity of marriage and of the responsibilities of a husband and of a wife. Jess almost denied her permission when the minister repeated the part about obeying ones husband, there was no way that Jess was going to blindly obey Wesley, she thought contemptuously. She looked back into the faces of her father and Marianna saw faces that glowed radiantly, and she turned back to the minister and declared, “I do.” He likewise agreed. And with that they were married, he leaned down and sealed their union with a kiss. The kiss was properly dispassionate but Jess went weak at the knees at his ability to kiss her or anything now.

          They were quickly pulled apart; he went to his friends that were rowdy and speaking bawdily. Jess turned and went to the back of the hall where Bury was sitting to not infect anyone else, Marianna sitting stubbornly beside; Jess knew that they had probably had an argument about it. “Jess, my beautiful daughter, I am so happy for you, the ceremony was so beautiful. I am the proudest father.”

          Jess eyes welled and she sniffed inelegantly, “Thank you so much, Father.”

          “He had best make you happy.”

          Jess smiled wryly seeing the irony of this statement, “He will.” She smiled inwardly at the hypocrisy, that he only cared after they were married about her happiness.

          “He had better, and I will know, when I can see my grandbabies.”

          Jess flushed deeply, but was saved by Drake and Cohen coming up from behind. “Ah hello my dear cousin, I just came from my new cousin-in law. It is damn strange to call him that.” Seeing Bury’s disapproval, “Ladies, I apologize for my language.”

          Cohen smiling widely, “My beautiful sister, I always wished I had one, and now I do. And I would like nothing better than to meet your father.”

Jess grinned and obliged, “May I present you; Father, Cohen Ketterick, Marquis of Kent; Cohen my father, the Viscount of Bury.”

Bury smiled, “Hello, Cohen, am I allowed to call you Cohen?” Cohen smiled and nodded his assent, “I am so very pleased that my daughter is joining your family, I am right to assume you are the bridegroom’s brother.”

“Yes, I am. You should be meeting him, where is he?” Cohen looked for a moment and then yelled, “Wesley!”  

Wesley brought his head up and looked around sighting his brother standing in a far corner of the hall with Drake and Jess. He excused himself and walked toward them, trying to figure out why they were there. As he neared he saw the woman, Marianna, sitting next to a man who could be no one but Jessica’s father. He did not resemble her, but he saw the same wildly amused expression.

Wesley approached and immediately introduced himself, “Sir, I am Wesley Ketterick, Duke of York. Thank you for your blessing for our union.”

Bury smiled but Wesley could see that merely talking was taxing the old man; he looked incredibly ill, “I am pleased to make your acquaintance! I almost thought you were going to forgo the pleasure.”

Wesley smiled, the man had the same ability to test him, but he thought Bury had a wonderful sense of humor, and he moved to shake his hand. As he extended his arm Bury shook his head.

“I mean no offense, I am rather sick, and consumption is rather contagious.” Wesley was shocked, a man with consumption should not be out in public, and they were so fragile he looked to scold Drake and Jess. But before he did, Wesley noted the protective nature that Jess showed over her father; he let it go, knowing that she was worried about her father as well.

             Wesley watched as his brother made idle chitchat with his new bride and her family and was supremely thankful that Cohen was there; it allowed Wesley to fully appreciate his wife. She was everything a bride should be, her long warm sable hair pushed out of her eyes, god, he thought he wished he could enmesh himself in that hair. Her dress, though not typical, sparkled and flaunted her delicate femininity. Looking at her talking so congenially to Cohen made his blood sizzle, he could not blame Cohen for staring; she was as beautiful as they come. However, he fully intended to remove his wife from his brother’s perusal.  

          Wesley groaned inside, her being a married woman would not dissuade any man; she was far too much a catch for something as trivial as vows. The thought of her being unfaithful made him grit his teeth and want to leave and lock her up in the towers of Atworth.

          Wesley waited for a short break in the conversation before entering with, “Sir, it has been a pleasure meeting you,” and to Jess he offered his arm and said, “Your Grace, Mrs. Ketterick, let’s away.”

          Jess flushed deeply at her new name and title but turned and kissed Marianna’s cheek and wished she could do the same for her father, before putting her hand on Wesley’s arm.

          Wesley’s group of friends gathered around as he helped her into the carriage.

“Where are you going?” William asked eagerly

          “This is a vacation house, we are staying here. You may call in a few days. Leave us be for now, I wish to get to know my new wife.”  

          Jess turned her head, they were staying in Brighton! Thank heavens, she would be able to care for Bury and talk with Marianna. But she shuddered at the thinly veiled innuendo; he assumed they would be occupied for a few days.

          Wesley’s friends also picked up the joke, “Well men, we will call upon him in a week, though he still may not wish to receive us.” 

          Wesley drew into the carriage and Jess was surprised that he could fit, the man behind so tall and muscular. Wesley tapped the top of the coach and they set off.   

          Jess stared determinedly down at her fingers, trying to calm her racing nerves; being in such a tight space with him was sending a river of adrenaline through her body focusing on her belly, breast and most embarrassingly her secret place, she shivered.

          Wesley must have seen the involuntary response because he picked up a folded lap rug and draped it over her, his hand brushing softly against her nape. At her slight stiffening Wesley chuckled, “Are we a little nervous my dear.”

          Jess stiffened incredulously, “No, I am quite steady. There is nothing to be nervous about.” She turned deliberately away from him and looked out at the landscape.

          Wesley shook his head at her lie but did not say anything. They continued the ride to his house in silence. They were briskly led onto the cobble-stone drive of his Brighton Manor; Jess looked at the same building very differently. The once opulent and spacious manor was now too large intimidating, much like her new husband.

          Jess supposed that a large manor would be good, it would be easier for her to slip away, and gain reprieve from Wesley.

          “Madam? Jessica?” Wesley murmured softly.

Jess was brought out of her reverie, and realized that the footmen were waiting for her to step out of the carriage. With alacrity she stepped out, with assistance from Wesley, embarrassed she snapped, “I do not need your assistance.”

Wesley grimaced and leaned into her ear, “It would be wise for you to indulge me, servants are watching and you can only be helped by a good impression.”

Jess knew that this was true and allowed herself to be swept into the foyer, where a dapper man and a kind-faced woman stood to receive them.

“May I introduce my Valet, Kendal? He is in charge of everything around here.”

Kendal ducked his head, “Your Grace, I am delighted to meet you. The duke exaggerates of course, I do what I can, but I would expect that you will now take over whatever you wish as Mistress of the house.”

Jess smiled at the man with thinning hair, “Yes, but I shall look for your advice, I am very sure you are a fine commander of the house. Atworth is very fine.”

“Jessica, may I also introduce, Lilia, she will serve as maid for you if you will.”

The woman was a few years older than Marianna, Jess supposed and looked just as kind, she swept into a curtsy and said, “I am very honored your Grace.”

Wesley nodded approvingly and said to the group, “Jessica we will dine at seven, I am sure you will require your rooms, Lilia will show them to you.”

Jessica nodded and followed Lilia down through the halls, each was more opulent than the last and Jess was concerned about finding her way around.

“Here we are, Madam. These will be your rooms, the Duke thought that you might want them, but his rooms are just over there.” Lilia motioned down the hall; Jess smiled and was relieved that she might at some point get away from him.

The room was beautiful, the walls a light cream, and the bed a fine yellow, large windows adorned the walls. Jess was surprised by the room; it was almost too soft and elegant for the dark heavy overly-indulgent manor.

          Jess supposed if she had to stay anywhere against her will, this was a fine enough place, she thought while the colors very nice, the room wasn’t hers. Jess was pleased to see her bags though, the laid to side of the large bed.

          “Lilia, I am going to require a few moments, please come back in a few minutes.” Lilia nodded and took her leave.

          Jess let out a long breath and went to her bag, taking out her dresses one at a time reveling in the sense of home that came with each. She set about the task of picking one of her gowns to wear to supper. She decided on a soft blue creation, its style exceeding simplistic. It resembled the gowns most of the ton’s girls wear, the pastel making the girls look younger than they were. Jess hoped that looking younger and more innocent would help protect her from her dangerous husband.

          Lilia returned to help Jess dress and help brush out her long hair. When Lilia tightened the corset strings, Jess couldn’t tell if the breathlessness she experienced was from nerves or not. Jess asked Lilia for an intricate mass of curls held together by pins.

          At last the footman came for Jess, “Your Grace, the Duke awaits.” Jess permitted herself to be led down to the dining rooms.  Jess noticed that the number of footmen had significantly diminished throughout the day.

          Jess entered the dining room to see a long table meant for entertaining, and though the custom would have the couple sit at either side of the long table, the places were set with Jess at Wesley’s right.

          “What are you about?” Wesley asked, and Jess was surprised to see him there, she hadn’t noticed him, but couldn’t understand how. He had changed his attire, wearing a dark crimson dining jacket; he wore no cravat, but had kept on the same tight pantaloons.

          “There is nothing to say, your Grace.” She said the title spitefully, trying to put distance between herself and Wesley. 

          Wesley’s eyes flashed furiously, but his voice was cold, “I apologize for my concern, your Grace.”

          Jess flushed at her title, knowing that she had become him, her name was no longer hers; she was now the Duchess of York. Jess walked stiffly to her chair and sat down.

          “I do believe I was supposed to help you, your Grace,” Wesley said gruffly before sitting in his chair.

          “You will find, your Grace, that I am quite capable of handling myself.”

          She watched Wesley roll his eyes, and felt like slapping him, she had only ever slapped Drake, and she knew that Drake’s reaction might differ from her new husbands. Drake had tolerated the affront nobly; Jess suspected that her husband might not be so gentlemanly.

          “Jessica,” Wesley said softly, “I am sorry that you have been forced into this position, but we have to make the best of it.”

          Jess sighed, “Yes, Your gra—Wesley.”

          They were interrupted by the trays of food and wine. The food was sumptuous, expensive and heavy.

          “Would you like some champagne?”

          “God, no.” Wesley looked taken aback and Jess laughed, “I would prefer something stronger. Brandy, please.”

          Wesley laughed and poured them both a liberal amount of brandy. “A wonderful surprise, Jessica; I dislike champagne as well.”

          Jess did not dislike champagne, just in this instance, thought the ordeal would be easier if she was foxed, and brandy was a sure way to accomplish her goal.

          After they were served, the footmen were dismissed and Jess settled in. She was merely pushing food around her plate, her normally small appetite was now nonexistent, however, she had refilled her brandy several times.

          Wesley chuckled, “You are going to be sick tomorrow if you don’t eat something.”

          “I am going to be fine.” But Jess was already feeling the effects of the drink and was actually in a fine fettle, “why were you in that bar?” 

          Wesley considered his new wife, and considered telling her the truth.  “I went for a drink. Why were you there?” Jess knew he was being evasive, his face was tight and Jess suspected a lie. Jess couldn’t for the life of her understand why York—Wesley would lie about such a thing.

          “I wished to be there.”  She wasn’t going to tell him if he wasn’t going to tell her. She saw his eye roll but was surprised he didn’t push the issue.

          “Tell me about your father.”

          Jess was surprised, “He is very kind, he is the Viscount of Bury, and he has consumption.” She felt odd, she didn’t want to share mush about her beloved Father with her new abstract husband. She inwardly sighed in relief that he didn’t force her to expound.

          “How did he contract consumption?”

          “We never found out, if he knows, then he didn’t tell us. He is getting worse, he won’t even let anyone treat him, for fear they would become sick too. I was surprised he even came to the wedding, he never leaves his room.”

          “He went because he wanted to see his only daughter married.”

          Jess was aware that Wesley was trying to make her feel more at ease but Jess thought wryly that it would take more than talk of her family to put her mind at ease.

          The meal stretched on, Jess pushed food around obstinately, trying to extend her time. Finally Wesley had enough, “The meal cannot take the rest of our lives.”

          Jess colored prettily, being caught in her play. “I am finished Wesley.”

          “Excellent.” Wesley called to the footmen, and they cleared the table, “You are finished for the night, get to bed, we won’t need any assistance.”

          The footmen cleared the room, leaving Jess and Wesley alone. The brandy was left on the table, and Jess looked longingly, but decided against it to try and reclaim a few of her wits.

          Jess shivered and Wesley noticed and murmured, “Come here.”

          “Why?”

          “I am going to warm you.” Jess was drawn by the husky quality of his voice and walked over. His mouth curved seductively.

          “How? Are you going to give me your jacket?”

          “I had a different idea.” Wesley’s lips came down upon hers, tenderly, his sweet scent intoxicating her. She could see what he meant, he was very warm. His arms we holding her gently at her waist, and in response, Jess brought her arms up to his shoulders. She soon began to over-heat surpassing warm to become overtly hot.

          He made her open for him, his tongue taking her mouth completely, plundering and ravishing. She moaned softly and his mouth left hers for a moment, “Are you warm?”

          Jess nodded quickly. He smiled and murmured, “Good then we are going.”

          His arms came around her, lifting her effortlessly, his mouth squashing any protests, they went down the halls linked together.

          He eventually opened a door and walked through, Jess pulled her mouth from his.

          “Where are we?”

          “My room, or our room if you so wish.”

          Jess looked around, walking around touching the few things that adorned his room, mostly the room was made from the same taste; dark oak, masculine to the extreme. Jess could see Wesley in this room, but he obviously didn’t spend much time there.

          She asked him tentatively, “You don’t spend much time here do you?”

          “I haven’t in the past, but I intend to spend a lot of time here with you. And I intend to spend time with you all over the manor and the grounds.” Jess looked back at him, his eyes were deep and fathomless. “Yes, in here we will experience each other. Starting today Jessica.”

          She stood rapt with attention as he approached; his arms came to her shoulders and turned her around. He kissed her exposed nape and his hands deftly began unbuttoning her dress. The gown and petticoats came easily over her hair. His hands were just as deft untwining the strings of her corset.

          Soon Jess stood only in her chemise and pantalets, but she was not cold, in fact her skin was on fire. She turned around looked into his eyes as he removed her chemise and looked down on her now- exposed flesh.

          “You are the loveliest woman I have ever seen. Take the pins out of your hair.”

          She obeyed his command without thinking, at the same time lifting her heavy aching breasts to his gaze. Her heavy tendrils curled down past her waist.  His eyes were dark with passion as he lowered his head to one engorged peak. His tongue swirled lightly over her pebbled skin. Her head fell back and her eyes closed as a column of flames shot through her body.

          The teasing continued as he switched targets to the other. The delectable torture continued and soon Jess was breathless.

She leaned back and away from Wesley and asked, “Why are you still dressed?”

          Wesley looked up at his bride and smiled, “Go lay on the bed, I’ll be there in a moment.”

She went but watched him he first locked the door and then stripped of his boots, then his jacket. His shirt fell to the floor forgotten, the revealed skin was darkened by years of the sun and he was muscled from years of sports.

He unbuttoned his breeches and in one motion they were off. Jess was darkly fascinated, staring at his impressive manhood. It stood dark and rigid under a copse of dark crinkling hair. He noticed her inspection, “Can you imagine it, me being in you, filling you with my flesh.”

Jess felt her blood heat, and her blood race, and though she didn’t believe that could actually happen she was distinctly interested. He moved to the bed and lay down on the side of her, slipping her pantalets off, until both of them were completely naked.

Wesley bent his head to her mouth and kissed her roughly, his hands curving around the already taut breast, kneading them. Jess squirmed, herself breathless with pleasure. “Please.”

Wesley lifted his head and said, “Patience Darling.” She gasped as his lips and tongue left her mouth and began feathering kisses down the column of her neck to where her pulse beat. He tongued at her nape and urged her heart rate faster till Jessica knew she would surely die if he did not leave off. Tiny moans of pleasure sounded in the back of Jess’s neck and for a fleeting moment Jessica was ashamed but the moment passed as Wesley scraped his teeth against the distended tip of one breast.

Wesley shifted positions so that he was between her legs, his shoulders gently spreading her knees, till she was open to him, nothing out of view. He kissed up one leg, from one fleshy quivering thigh and then onto her most secret place. Jess was shaking with pleasure, her insides turned to fire. As his lips found her bud and he suckled, the first wave crested and she screamed, sobs racking her body.

“Please Wesley!” She called out wantonly.

He quit his gentle torture and eased a finger into her, testing to see if she was ready for him, she was hot and slick with the evidence of her arousal coating her. He pushed his arousal against her and for a moment she stiffened. When she had relaxed, he slowly moved himself inside her; he caught the anticipated blockage and murmured, “Breathe, I’m so sorry, darling.”

He quickly broke through and Jess gasped both with pain and pleasure, and the pain quickly went away. Wesley kissed her softly, “Here we go, my beautiful wife.”

He moved slowly, retreating out then plunging into her, filling her with every exquisite inch. Jess was in bliss, her pleasure cresting and she cried out and quieted, he came soon after, his bucking stopping as he fell to her, feeling the warmth of his release, his seed filling her. 

Wesley couldn’t even move for a moment his release so powerful, but he had to move to spare her his weight. He withdrew from her and tucked her against his side. Their lovemaking had been breathtaking; the look on her face was amazing as she realized the pleasure that could be found in his bed. He acknowledged, for better or worse their marriage was consummated.

Jessica lay quietly beside him, already asleep. Wesley smiled and pulled the blanket up and around them, reveling in his lovely wife. Her skin was cream and roses, her hair a glorious rich brown and her passion was untaught but utterly undoing.

Again Wesley was aroused, just by being next to her, but Wesley couldn’t wake her, not with her just learning. So he ignored his need and laid down and went to sleep next to her.