Lydia smoothed out the wrinkles in her gown. “We spent so little time together the past two weeks, I’m not even sure where we will live when we return from the hotel.”
He was listening to his wife he assured himself, but he wanted nothing more than to kiss her. It was probably a better idea to keep his hands off her until they reached their destination. Stripping his new bride bare and relieving her of her maidenhead in a moving carriage would not be the most gentlemanly thing he’d ever done. Unfortunately, it would not be the worst thing he’d ever done with a woman, either.
However, this was not just a woman, but his wife who deserved his respect and not to be treated like one if his lightskirts. He shook his head, still trying to adjust to the wife moniker.
In answer to her question, he said, “I have looked at a few townhouses to lease. Until we find something, we will be residing with Hunt and Diana. My pompous, arrogant brother referred to my bachelor flat as a dump.”
“Is it?”
He thought for a minute. “Yes. I suppose it is.”
She laughed and he joined her. “Do I get to be part of the decision on where we live?”
St
aring in her eyes, Dante raised her hand, tugged her glove off one finger at a time, and kissed the soft skin on her wrist. “Of course. That is why I have only looked at a few possibilities.”
Lydia shivered and he thanked God the carriage stopped. He looked up. “We’re here.”
He loved watching his wife’s flushed face, and before the hotel footman could make it to the carriage, Dante opened the door and hopped out.
She took his hand and stepped down. “I should have changed before we left Hunt’s house. I look silly walking into the hotel in a wedding gown.”
He took her arm and moved her forward. “You would look silly if you were coming from a garden party, but you are arriving from your wedding. Besides, the hotel knows we’re recently married.”
“How would they know?”
He whisked her through the front door, held open by an impressive looking footman. “Because I rented the bridal suite and asked for all our meals to be brought to our room.”
She gasped and drew back. “You didn’t!”
“I did.” He loved her outrage. Perhaps he could keep her annoyed with him until they made it to bed. Then he would enjoy turning all that anger into passion.
They checked in, and one of the footmen directed them to their suite on the upper floor. It was a spacious room, well appointed in pale rose and green wallpaper. A very large, very tempting bed took up a good part of the room, covered in a deeper rose and green counterpane.
The carpet under their feet was plush enough to sleep on. Dante did a quick survey of the room, noting all the places where they could make love. Yes, this would be a wonderful honeymoon.
Lydia looked nervous. He had to remember he was used to experienced women, but it was his job as her husband to make sure she was relaxed enough to enjoy her first time and look forward to more of his attentions. “Once our bags arrive, you will want to change into something more comfortable.”
She nodded and licked her lips. He sauntered up to her and she backed up a step. He reached out and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her waist, but keeping a little bit of distance between them. “Relax, sweeting. I have no intention of pouncing on you.”
“I didn’t think that.” Her bravado was amusing, but he would never let her know that. Before he could comment on it, a slight knock on the door drew their attention.
Dante opened the door and allowed the footman to bring in their bags. Once they were placed where Lydia wanted them, he gave him a few coins and he left.
He remained near the door, which seemed to please Lydia. “I noticed a bar downstairs. I think I will have a drink or two and give you some privacy to change.”
She slumped in relief. “Thank you.”
He nodded and left. Where the blasted hell was the independent, spirited, passionate woman he’d spent the last few weeks with? Did all new brides act this way on their wedding night?
Patience, Dante. She needs time.
Lydia had made use of the lovely bathing room attached to their suite, feeling refreshed after the long day, and wearing all those clothes. There were times during the day she felt as though she couldn’t breathe with the layers of garments her new sisters-in-law insisted she must wear to be a proper bride.
The hotel had provided small jars of sweet-smelling soap and soft drying cloths for her use. She decided not to wash her hair since she didn’t have time to dry it before the fire that burned in the fireplace.
Now she sat in the room, fidgeting while she awaited Dante’s return. About ten minutes before a maid had arrived and after ascertaining she was properly attired, waved a footman in who carried a stand with ice and a champagne bottle. They also set out an array of small sandwiches and cakes. After a slight bow, they both left.