The Substitute Bride | Ch 1-4 preview

4. The wedding night

Whatever Gervase had expected to find when he opened the door, it was not this. He had imagined that his new bride would be long asleep, and to ensure this state of affairs he had delayed as long as possible over his supper. He was feeling strangely uncomfortable about the whole situation himself.

But he found himself greeted by a slim figure, the firelight behind her thin robe rendering it nearly transparent, which being the wanton she obviously was she did not seem to care about. He would have expected a more modest woman to have wrapped something around herself before admitting someone to her room.

Instead he could see every slender line of her body, nearly as though she were naked. He clenched his teeth, frustrated at his body for not being as indifferent to this sight as he would have liked. No wonder she had snared young Tom.

"You are not asleep?"

It was obvious that she was not but Lily did not draw attention to this. "No my Lord, I was reading."

Gervase noticed that she had been holding a book which she placed on the table as she stood up. He was surprised to find her reading anything: Tom's usual bits of muslin had little in their heads.

Doubtless it was some frippery romantic novel such that women always seemed to go wild over these days. He picked it up and was more than surprised to see "The Eclogues of Vergil" inscribed on the cover.

"You read Latin?" he asked.

"My father taught me Latin and Greek."

She saw his eyebrows rise in wonder and remembered that her father was supposed to be Sir Robert, who was the last man on earth to know or teach the Classics. "Through a tutor," she quickly added.

"And you enjoy Vergil?"

"Very much, my Lord."

Then we have something in common, he was about to say, but stopped himself.

Gervase found himself taken by a sudden fury that this girl, a girl intelligent enough to read Latin, should have let herself be seduced by his feckless cousin yet feign nervousness and reserve in his own presence. By rights she should have been as welcoming and willing as any tavern maid.

Not knowing what overcame him he strode over to her, gripped her shoulders and brought his mouth down on hers. She stiffened in shock for a moment then - as he had surely known she would - softened in his embrace. They were all the same, these hussies. A brief pretence of chastity and then the true wanton within was revealed.

Yet the embrace shook him. Her lips were sweet and soft and while he had invaded her mouth to assert some angry right, he now found himself deepening the kiss in a desire to explore her.

She had put her hands on him, at if to push him away, but now she held onto him as though for support.

Despite every effort of will, Gervase could not stop his own hands from running down her body. He felt the slender hollow of her waist, the curve of her buttocks.

He was on the point of crushing her against his unparallelled hardness when he managed to recover his senses. He broke off and stood back from her.

His bride - Tom's chit - stood there, her face flushed, her parted lips swollen from the force of his kiss, her grey eyes managing to display both confusion and arousal.

She was a brilliant little actress, he afforded her that much.

And as he drank in the figure he could see through the thin garment: the firm, rounded breasts, the graceful neck, the dark gold tendril of hair that had escaped its pins, Gervase knew only one thing.