“I am not afraid of you, my lord.” Yes, I am. I’m terrified. You might get rid of me or have me arrested if you find out the truth about me. In this moment, she vowed to let him continue disbelieving the tale she’d told him about belonging to The Weasels. If he questioned her about her past again, she would simply claim to have once been nothing but a boring, homeless orphan taken in by Miss Wickersham.
Lord Grayson slid closer to her, until his thigh was touching hers. His nearness overwhelmed her, and her entire body came alive, some parts of her heating and tingling, while other parts of her, like the area between her thighs, began to throb. Her ninnies felt weighted and achy in the confines of her bodice, a garment she wasn’t accustomed to wearing. She almost reached for her bosom, but unfolded her hands and then curled her fingers tight around the skirts of her bridal gown and tried to remain as still as possible, lest she lose control and shame herself in front of Lord Grayson.
“You’re trembling, little girl.” He reached for her, tilting her chin up and forcing her to gaze directly into his eyes. A shiver ran up her spine and her bottom cheeks clenched. Would he be a strict papa? Given the firm set of his jaw and the serious gleam in his eyes, she got the sense that he wouldn’t kindly abide any amount of naughtiness from her. She wondered if he would really punish her for spying on him in Miss Wickersham’s study. We shall see to your discipline once we are married. His words came back to her now and made her kitty clench up with delicious sensation. But she didn’t know him well enough yet to determine whether he’d been serious or only teasing when he’d said that.
“I’m not trembling, my lord.” She tried to withdraw from his touch, but he leaned over her, crowding her against the wall of the carriage and leaving her with nowhere to look but him.
“You will call me Papa from now on, Cynny, unless we are in public or entertaining guests. In those settings, you will address me as sir or my lord.” He stroked one of the golden curls that framed her face. “Now, little one, I want you to be a good girl and sit in Papa’s lap.”
She swallowed hard, past the sudden dryness in her throat. Papa. He wanted her to call him Papa. She couldn’t think of anything else she’d rather do in this moment. She drew a deep breath as she continued staring at him, her heart contracting with warmth at the tenderness that was now glimmering in his beautiful dark eyes. Had she ever seen eyes so lovely on a man before? She didn’t think she had, though perhaps lovely wasn’t a word she ought to use to describe any part of Lord Grayson. The man radiated masculine power, and a quiver raced across her bottom cheeks as she again wondered if he would discipline her for spying.
“Yes, Papa,” she finally said. “I would love nothing more than to sit in your lap.” She smiled at him and allowed him to lift her onto his firm thighs.
Finally. Her spirits danced with joy. She finally had a papa of her very own.
The handsome Lord Grayson.
Grayson revelled in the feel of the petite blonde beauty in his arms. Miss Heathrow, who he’d only a short while ago learned had the first name of Hyacinth, or Cynny for short, was now Lady Grayson. His new bride. His sweet little girl. And he was now her papa and her husband.
He planned to take his duties as both her papa and her husband very seriously. Most of all, he would lavish her with affection, attention, and praise, but as he understood the way of things it was also his obligation to guide her and even punish her when she was naughty.
Spying through a peephole into Miss Wickersham’s study had been quite naughty indeed, though he didn’t plan to spank her too hard for the indiscretion. A scolding, a few quick smacks on her bare little bottom, and that would be the end of it. Lesson learned. He imagined taking her over his knee for the short disciplinary session and flipping the skirts of her wedding gown up and parting the folds of her drawers. He would stroke her behind for several minutes while imparting to her the importance of good behavior—well-behaved little girls do not sneak about and spy on others through peepholes—and then he would deliver a few slaps to her upturned bottom before…
“Papa?”
Hyacinth’s sweet voice interrupted his lascivious thoughts, and he glanced down at her and tightened his arms around her. “Yes, little girl?”
She squirmed in his lap and he almost growled at the wicked sensation of her grinding her behind over his hardening shaft. “Papa, I-I…” her voice trailed off and she plunged her face into her hands.
Worried, he pried her hands away from her face and placed a finger beneath her chin, then gentled his expression as he held her anxious gaze. “What is it, little girl?”
Storm clouds brewed in the depths of her pretty blue eyes, and for a moment he feared she might burst into tears. But she gulped hard and took a few deep breaths, and that seemed to help her settle. With his free hand, he rubbed up and down her back, hoping to soothe whatever fears were assailing her. But he didn’t release her chin. He didn’t want her to fall into the habit of hiding from him. He found he wanted all of her—her sweet smiles as well as her sorrow. If he didn’t know when she was sad, he wouldn’t be able to make it all better. And he wanted to make it better, no matter what was ailing her. Finally, she spoke.
“Papa, it’s just that when you arrived at Talcott House, you came at a most inopportune time. You see, Miss Wickersham was about to tell me what happens between husbands and wives, and I think she was also about to tell me what a cock looks like, and it was at that very moment that your carriage pulled up and she had to rush out of my room to see what was going on. Now I’ve come to you woefully unprepared, I’m afraid. I hope…I just hope you will not be disappointed by my dire lack of knowledge. I hope you will be patient with me, because I am oh so nervous about what will happen between us once we arrive at your home. I-I want to be a good wife to you, Papa.”
“Come here,” he said, drawing her further against his chest. He stroked his hands through her silken golden locks and hoped he was succeeding in comforting her. To his delight, she sighed and relaxed in his hold, and after a few seconds wrapped her arms around his center, hugging him back. “Little girl, my sweet Hyacinth, I do not expect you to know anything when it comes to marital matters. I intend to teach you all you need to know, and I vow to be most patient with you.”
“It pleases me to hear you say that, Papa. I feel much better now. Thank you.” She pulled back slightly and met his gaze. “I must confess, I think it was very gallant and romantic of you to arrive in a carriage only minutes before my wedding hour, prepared to fight for my hand in marriage. As long as I live, I shall never forget it.” A smile touched her lips and her eyes shone with pleasure. “But I must ask. What would you have done if Miss Wickersham had insisted I marry Lord Kensington?”
He leaned down, until his gaze was level with hers. “I would have knocked Lord Kensington to the floor, then I would have tossed you over my shoulder and carried you out of Talcott House as my stolen bride.”
“Oh my. That sounds most scandalous, Papa.” She giggled, and the sound of her laughter warmed his heart.
“Then I would have gotten us a special marriage license and tracked down a vicar so we could be properly wed before I took you to my estate in the country where I could hide you away from all others.”
Her breath caught and she wiggled in his lap for the umpteenth time. His cock quickly hardened, as he was no longer able to control his passions. God, he wanted her. His blood heated and he fought to restrain a growl as the carriage hit a pothole and she bounced in his lap.
“What would happen next, Papa? Oh, this is the most exciting story I’ve ever heard,” she said, peering at him from underneath her lashes as a blush stole over her delicate features.