Chapter 309: Chapter Three Hundred And Nine
The sun rose up brightly over the great city of London. The morning sky was a clear blue color. Small, warm rays of sunlight slipped through the slight gap in the velvet curtains of the master bedroom. The golden light danced across the soft pillows and directly tickled Rowan’s closed eyelids.
Rowan let out a low, sleepy groan. He did not want to wake up yet. He shifted his large body under the thick duvet. He reached his hand out across the wide mattress, blindly searching the bed for the soft, warm body of his wife.
But his hand found absolutely nothing. The bed beside him was completely empty. It was cold to the touch.
Rowan’s eyes shot open instantly. The sleepy fog completely vanished from his mind.
He sat up quickly in the large bed. He looked around the bedroom in complete confusion. The room was entirely empty, and surprisingly clean. The messy clothes they had discarded in a wild rush the night before were completely gone. The dying fire in the hearth had been swept away, and the tea tray was missing.
There was absolutely no sign of Delaney anywhere.
Rowan frowned deeply. He looked down at his own body. He lifted the edge of the thick white duvet and saw that he was completely naked.
A sudden, terrible thought struck his mind. He rubbed his face with both hands.
"Did I miss her that much that I started dreaming of our time together?" Rowan questioned his own sanity, speaking to himself in a low, rough murmur.
He looked at the empty room again. Was the beautiful wedding just a dream? Was she still living in the quiet country house? Had his desperate mind simply invented the entire passionate wedding night because he missed her so terribly?
He let out a heavy sigh and decided to get out of bed to find his clothes.
Rowan moved his legs to get down from the bed, twisting his upper body slightly. As he moved, he suddenly felt a sharp, stinging pain directly across the broad muscles of his back.
He stopped moving. He reached his hand behind his shoulder and gently touched his own skin. He felt the distinct, raised lines of several fresh scratches.
Instantly, a vivid hot memory flashed into his mind.
He remembered the dark, quiet hours of the night. He remembered holding her tightly against the white pillows. He remembered thrusting deeply into her, feeling her wrap her soft arms around his neck. He remembered the exact feeling of her short fingernails digging sharply into his bare back as she lost complete control.
He could clearly hear her sweet, breathless voice whispering directly into his ear.
"Rowan, more. I want more."
Rowan lowered his hand from his back. The confusion entirely left his face. A slow, wicked, mischievous smile spread completely across his handsome features.
He was not dreaming. He was not crazy. He had indeed spent the entire, wonderful night with his wife. She had simply woken up before him.
Rowan chuckled softly to himself. He stood up from the bed, feeling completely satisfied and entirely happy. He walked over to his dressing room to find some fresh clothes, eager to go downstairs and find his Duchess.
Downstairs, the Hamilton House was already busy with morning activities.
Delaney was already completely dressed. She wore a beautiful, simple morning gown made of soft peach cotton, with delicate white lace at the collar. Her dark hair was pinned up neatly. She looked fresh, glowing, and completely ready to take on the day.
She had already started her official duties as the Duchess of Ford.
She stood in the grand marble foyer with Mr. Simmons and was efficiently organizing the departure of the Anderson family.
"Please ensure Duke Carcel’s carriage has fresh water for the horses, Mr. Simmons," Delaney instructed smoothly, her voice clear and polite. "And have the cook wrap some warm sweet breads for their journey back to the country."
"Right away, Your Grace," Mr. Simmons bowed deeply, entirely pleased to have a capable mistress running the large household once again.
Suddenly, she heard the rustle of silk skirts coming down the stairs.
Ines walked out to meet her. She reached out and held both of Delaney’s hands warmly.
"Good morning, Sister," Ines smiled brightly. But then, she looked around the empty foyer. She frowned slightly. "Delaney, where is Rowan?"
Delaney felt a tiny rush of heat enter her cheeks at the mention of her husband’s name.
"He is not downstairs yet," Delaney answered truthfully.
Ines raised a dark, curious eyebrow. "He is still asleep? But Rowan is never late. He has always been the first person awake in this house since he was a young boy."
Delaney wanted to be a good, protective wife. She wanted to explain his unusual absence so his sister would not think poorly of him.
"I let him sleep a bit more," Delaney replied, her voice soft and entirely innocent. "He was so tired after last night..."
Delaney paused abruptly. Her mouth snapped shut. She suddenly realized exactly what she was saying, and who she was saying it to.
Ines’s eyes instantly lit up with mischievous delight. She let go of Delaney’s hands. A wide smirk spread completely across Ines’s face.
"Last night?" Ines asked, leaning forward eagerly. "What exactly happened last night, Delaney?"
Delaney panicked. Her face flushed a deep, bright red. She shook her hands rapidly in front of her chest and shook her head from side to side.
"No, no, no," Delaney stammered quickly, trying desperately to fix her terrible mistake. "I simply meant that after the long ball, and greeting all the guests, he was very tired. So I... I helped him ease..."
It was the absolute worst possible choice of words.
Ines let out a loud, ringing laugh. She clapped her hands together in pure amusement.
"You helped him ease?" Ines repeated loudly, her voice filled with wicked glee. "How exactly did you do that? Did you massage his shoulders? Can you teach me your special methods?"
