Read Online The Virgin at Goodrich Hall by Danielle Lisle - Free Book Online
Authors: Danielle Lisle
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hear me, Victor? This house is only for women of breeding!” his mother’s voice screeched from the doorway.
Maggie gasped, wiggled as if to escape from under him. He did not allow it.
“Mother. Get out,” he said, his voice calm, yet deadly.
“I will not! I am the woman of this house until you wed and that day, by your own esteem, is a century or two away. I shall be dead before you give me grandchildren!” she bellowed back.
Victor, holding down Maggie, worried she still may try to flee, raised his head slightly and turned to look at his mother over his shoulder. “Mother, I proposed to Lady Margaret, daughter of Lord Carrieton, tonight. She has accepted and your grandchild could well be growing within her as we speak. So kindly get out!”
His mother looked at him blankly for a moment, then to the sheets that hid Maggie. Anger quickly turned to elation.
“Oh, God, son, get the woman dressed and respectable! We have so much to discuss. Let her up so we can speak. When is the wedding to be held?”
Victor stared blankly at his mother. Was she mad? “It is the middle of the night and, no, I will not let her up. Get out of my room and you can meet her in the light of day. Out!” he bellowed, when she did not move.
After a moment, she huffed out a breath and left, closing the door behind her.
“Oh my, your mother will think me a whore for bedding you before our wedding,” Maggie whispered, horrified.
“She will not. She is too pleased at the thought of grandchildren,” he said dryly.
Maggie looked up at him with a gaze of disbelief. He smiled down at her. She would soon come to realise he was right.
“Who is your mother?” she asked after a moment, biting into her lower lip. “I mean, I may have met her. I do not even know your full name. To me you are simply Victor.”
He smiled slightly, though he no longer felt it. Now would come the reaction he had feared.
“My mother is the Dowager Duchess of Rothbury,” he said.
“I have never met her,” she said, “but I know of her. She only has one child. The Duke of Rothbury.” A frown grew.
“Yes,” he said with a slight nod. “I am the Duke of Rothbury and you are to be my Duchess.”
Her eyes widened. “Duchess?”
“Yes. My wife will become the Duchess of Rothbury.”
She was silent for so long, his fears of her reaction seemed to be justified. “Why is it you have waited until now to tell me this, Your Grace?” she asked, her tone mocking. He felt it odd for her voice and expression to hold so much class and anger as she lay there, still naked from their loving hours ago.
“I will admit I feared your reaction to the news.”
Her narrowed eyes studied him. “Are you in need of coin?”
He snorted out a surprised breath. “Hardly.”
“That is what I thought,” she murmured as she relaxed slightly beneath him.
“You would have run away to Scotland with me even if I had been a merchant?” he asked, wanting confirmation of what he felt in his heart.
Margaret gazed up at him. Her previously pinned hair was now tousled around her features from his vigorous lovemaking. Caught in the candlelight, her eyes glistened with unshed tears, but it was the slow and steady smile that graced her lips that made her more beautiful to Victor than any other.
“I would have married you, Victor, even if you were a poor farmer. The only condition would have been that you loved me back.”
Never before in his life had such simple, yet powerful words meant so much to him. This woman loved him. Him, and him alone.
Victor leant down, capturing her lips with his as he rolled between her legs.
“Victor, dawn will soon be approaching. I must get home,” she murmured huskily, her breathing deep and filled with desire. She tipped her head back to give him more room as he guided his mouth to her neck, only confirming the lack of insistence behind her words.
“You are to be my wife. What can your father do?”
Maggie wrapped her legs around him
Maggie gasped, wiggled as if to escape from under him. He did not allow it.
“Mother. Get out,” he said, his voice calm, yet deadly.
“I will not! I am the woman of this house until you wed and that day, by your own esteem, is a century or two away. I shall be dead before you give me grandchildren!” she bellowed back.
Victor, holding down Maggie, worried she still may try to flee, raised his head slightly and turned to look at his mother over his shoulder. “Mother, I proposed to Lady Margaret, daughter of Lord Carrieton, tonight. She has accepted and your grandchild could well be growing within her as we speak. So kindly get out!”
His mother looked at him blankly for a moment, then to the sheets that hid Maggie. Anger quickly turned to elation.
“Oh, God, son, get the woman dressed and respectable! We have so much to discuss. Let her up so we can speak. When is the wedding to be held?”
Victor stared blankly at his mother. Was she mad? “It is the middle of the night and, no, I will not let her up. Get out of my room and you can meet her in the light of day. Out!” he bellowed, when she did not move.
After a moment, she huffed out a breath and left, closing the door behind her.
“Oh my, your mother will think me a whore for bedding you before our wedding,” Maggie whispered, horrified.
“She will not. She is too pleased at the thought of grandchildren,” he said dryly.
Maggie looked up at him with a gaze of disbelief. He smiled down at her. She would soon come to realise he was right.
“Who is your mother?” she asked after a moment, biting into her lower lip. “I mean, I may have met her. I do not even know your full name. To me you are simply Victor.”
He smiled slightly, though he no longer felt it. Now would come the reaction he had feared.
“My mother is the Dowager Duchess of Rothbury,” he said.
“I have never met her,” she said, “but I know of her. She only has one child. The Duke of Rothbury.” A frown grew.
“Yes,” he said with a slight nod. “I am the Duke of Rothbury and you are to be my Duchess.”
Her eyes widened. “Duchess?”
“Yes. My wife will become the Duchess of Rothbury.”
She was silent for so long, his fears of her reaction seemed to be justified. “Why is it you have waited until now to tell me this, Your Grace?” she asked, her tone mocking. He felt it odd for her voice and expression to hold so much class and anger as she lay there, still naked from their loving hours ago.
“I will admit I feared your reaction to the news.”
Her narrowed eyes studied him. “Are you in need of coin?”
He snorted out a surprised breath. “Hardly.”
“That is what I thought,” she murmured as she relaxed slightly beneath him.
“You would have run away to Scotland with me even if I had been a merchant?” he asked, wanting confirmation of what he felt in his heart.
Margaret gazed up at him. Her previously pinned hair was now tousled around her features from his vigorous lovemaking. Caught in the candlelight, her eyes glistened with unshed tears, but it was the slow and steady smile that graced her lips that made her more beautiful to Victor than any other.
“I would have married you, Victor, even if you were a poor farmer. The only condition would have been that you loved me back.”
Never before in his life had such simple, yet powerful words meant so much to him. This woman loved him. Him, and him alone.
Victor leant down, capturing her lips with his as he rolled between her legs.
“Victor, dawn will soon be approaching. I must get home,” she murmured huskily, her breathing deep and filled with desire. She tipped her head back to give him more room as he guided his mouth to her neck, only confirming the lack of insistence behind her words.
“You are to be my wife. What can your father do?”
Maggie wrapped her legs around him
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