Christmas Wishes Part 1. Elizabeth Rolls

was slipping the ring onto her finger, holding it there. ‘With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship...’

      His gaze held hers and she felt the heat swirling through her.... With my body... Another vow. Spoken in a way that left no doubt he fully intended to keep it.

      At last it was over, and they left the church to wildly pealing bells and heavy pewter skies.

      The duke and duchess took their leave swiftly after a glass of wine in the vicarage. ‘We simply can’t stay any longer if we are to reach home and our guests tonight,’ said the duchess, pressing Maddy’s hand in farewell. ‘Do say you forgive us, and will come after Twelfth Night.’ She smiled. ‘Ash is very wise to keep you all to himself for now. Ravensfell will be quieter then, with most of our guests gone and just our sons and Gerald and Ash’s sisters for another week. They are all looking forward to seeing you.’

      Maddy stammered a thank-you and the duchess leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek. ‘And don’t worry about Montfort’s idiocy. He’s done himself a very great deal of harm, if he only knew it.’

      Her cheeks burned. ‘Madam, it was all—’

      ‘Helen,’ the duchess corrected her. ‘And you don’t need to tell me it was all lies. His mother always did spoil him dreadfully, and just see what has come of it!’ She patted Maddy’s hand. ‘Oh, dear. Poor Gerald is positively glaring at me from the door! I must go. Merry Christmas, my dear!’ She turned to Ash, fixing him with what she possibly imagined was a severe look. ‘Behave yourself.’

      The duke strolled up and caught his duchess’s hand, sliding it onto his arm. ‘Not precisely the advice to give a man on his wedding day, m’dear.’ He smiled at Maddy, who was wondering if she’d heard right. ‘I’ll just wish you very happy again.’ He cast a sideways look at his own wife. ‘And assure you that he’s highly unlikely to take Helen’s bit of advice to heart, luckily for you.’

      Apparently she had heard correctly. The Duke of Thirlmere had a very wicked twinkle in his eye, even as the duchess thumped his shoulder.

      ‘Thank you, brother,’ said Ash in carefully restrained tones. ‘Just what advice would you give me on my wedding night?’

      The duke raised his brows. ‘I’d be surprised to learn you needed any.’ He frowned. ‘Actually, there is something—leave Montfort to me.’

      And he was gone before Ash could do more than open his mouth.

      The vicar gulped. ‘Ah, more claret, Lord Ashton? Ratafia, Lady Ashton?’

      * * *

      Ash handed his bride into the carriage Gerald had lent him—‘Just until you can arrange your own’—to the accompaniment of enthusiastic cheers and with a restraint that had his jaw aching. At some point he was going to have to know the truth—if Montfort had forced Maddy, or even attempted to. The thought that Maddy, his Maddy, might have suffered that sickened him. As for Gerald’s advice to leave Montfort to him—his brother had rocks in his head.

      He stepped into the carriage, fishing in his coat pocket for the coins he’d put there. Leaning out, he flung the coins into the crowd of villagers, who scooped them up, still cheering.

      As the carriage lurched off he settled himself on the seat opposite Maddy and saw that she had the carriage rug tucked around her as well as her cloak. ‘Are you warm enough?’

      She nodded. ‘Yes. There are hot bricks under my feet, too.’ Her eyes met his shyly. ‘I think they are intended for both of us, and the rug is quite large enough to share.’

      Ash’s body had an instant and predictable reaction to the suggestion that he share the rug with Maddy. ‘I’m warm enough,’ he said. Too damned warm. And he hadn’t meant to sound like a bear with a spike in its paw.

      ‘Oh.’ She went a little pink. ‘Er...that was very generous of you,’ she said. ‘The coins. But most of the people from the castle had gone. I mean, they weren’t there to—’

      He managed a smile despite the nagging ache in his groin. Typical of Maddy to think of her people. ‘I have more for them. And I thought we would add something to everyone’s wages to celebrate our marriage.’

      Her face changed. ‘It nearly wasn’t,’ she said softly, leaning forward.

      He tried not to breathe, but the soft scent of lavender and Maddy wound about and through him and he reached for her hand, enveloped it in his. ‘Nearly wasn’t what?’

      ‘A celebration.’ A trembling smile ripped at his heart. ‘You married me despite what Edward did.’ Her fingers tightened on his.

       What Edward did?

      He floundered for words to explain that he knew, whatever had happened, it hadn’t been her fault. That he’d never blame—

      Her mouth brushed against his—the merest promise of a kiss, a feather of a kiss.

      ‘Thank you.’

      The soft words breathed against his lips and he was lost. When she pulled back his arms closed about her gently and he was on the wrong side of the carriage, on the seat beside her, sanity incinerated as desire ignited. There were reasons he shouldn’t be doing this. In some distant corner of his brain he knew that. He was supposed to be talking to her. Reassuring her. But he no longer cared. With a groan Ash released the death grip he’d imposed on his self-control and kissed her instead.

      Her mouth was a miracle of sweetness, soft and yielding under the demands of his, kissing him back. He wanted that. He wanted everything. Everything and more. Wanted the shy touch of her tongue, stroking against his, the spicy Maddy taste of her, the silk of her hair as he disposed of her bonnet and slid his fingers into the fragrant curls. Hairpins pattered on the leather squabs and to the floor as her hair tumbled free around her shoulders, coiling, twining around his fingers like living silk.

      Nothing else mattered. Just Maddy. In his arms, giving herself freely until he could scarcely breathe for wanting her. Under the heavy pelisse he found the slender, supple curve of her waist encased in velvet, the gentle swell of her breast above. She stilled and he deepened the kiss, cupping her breast through velvet and her stays. Heat hammered in his veins as he traced the tender curve of her breast beneath the confining material.

      His mouth consumed a soft gasp and he was lost in the kiss, in her. Swiftly he unbuttoned the pelisse, slipped it from her shoulders and sank back into the enchantment.

      Too many clothes and he needed to touch her, touch Maddy. His body on fire, he stroked down one leg, over the richness of velvet—and slid beneath, her skirts rucked over his arm. She gasped as he caressed her knee, as his fingers slid higher and found warm, bare skin that shamed silk and velvet....

      * * *

      Struggling for breath, Maddy pulled back from the kiss.

       ‘Ash!’

      Somehow she found the breath for his name, stunned at the intimacy of his touch there on her thigh. Stroking, maddening, on her inner thigh. Higher he slid, and higher, until she wanted to scream with need.

       There! Higher... Please!

      Somewhere, someone made a frantic little noise and his hand withdrew. She realised that she had cried out and nearly wept in frustration.

      ‘Do you want me to stop?’ His voice, tight and strained, sounded exactly as she felt.

      ‘No. Please. No.’

      The words were barely out before his mouth took hers again, complete and deep.

      * * *

      Madness took Ash. Never breaking the kiss, he lifted her over him so that she straddled his thighs, petticoats and skirts spilling over him in a froth of velvet and muslin.

      Slipping his hand back under her skirts, he found her, hot and damp, and consumed the frantic little