“Claim my wife.” Percival spun her about and bent her over the side of the bed. He gathered up handfuls of her skirts, tossing them over her back. The relatively cool air of the room wafted over her bared backside. “This is m’ favorite part.” He encouraged her legs apart with a knee between her thighs.
“I’m hoping for good things.” During her tenure as his mistress, she’d become fond of him as both a man and the earl. However, she disliked it when he fell into his cups, and— “Oh!” It didn’t matter that he was drunk. When he thrust inside her, pleasure streaked through her body to tingle into her breasts. “This has potential, Laughton.”
He snorted with apparent amusement but continued to stroke. All too soon his efforts became erratic and more frantic. His grunts and groans filled the air, but he wasn’t suave as he usually was, nor did he spend time playing at her button. Neither did he fondle her breasts or any of the other things he usually treated her to before finishing. The most she felt from this coupling was mild titillation and a shivery sensation each time he drove deep, but it was over as quickly as it began.
“Damn, I’m coming.” He thrust once more. His moan of completion echoed in the room as he slumped over her body.
“Damn indeed,” she whispered. The last time he’d given her such a poor showing, he’d been foxed as well. A feeling of restlessness swept over her. There was too much carnal energy that hadn’t been satisfied, but if need be, she would finish with her own fingers later. “Let me up.”
“Don’t want to move.”
Grant me continuing patience to see this marriage through. She shoved him away. When she stood and put her bodice back into place, the earl crumpled to the floor, his cheek pressed to the Oriental carpeting done in shades of blue. He’d passed out. Finally, he succumbed to the drunken stupor that had been inevitable. “Oh, Percy, why did you do this?”
He murmured something unintelligible but otherwise didn’t stir.
Lavinia wished to leave his presence, but their history together demanded compassion. With a sigh, she snagged a lightweight wool blanket from the foot of the bed and draped it over him. “Congratulations, Laughton. This wasn’t exactly the wedding night I’d dreamed of once upon a time, but I’m your countess now. There’s naught you can do about it short of trying to convince the courts for a divorce.”
Gingerly, she stepped around him and let herself out of the room. After closing the door quietly behind her, she made her way down the corridor toward the countess suite. Knots of worry formed in her belly. This was never supposed to happen, and she certainly hadn’t wanted to wed him under misidentification. At least she’d attempted to do the right thing.
In the end, it had been his decision, and he was a peer. No one would question him. That was the difference between them. He’d been born to wealth and privilege; she’d been born on the wrong side of that, regardless if her lineage was just as sterling.
Stifling a cry of frustration, she let herself into the sitting room and tugged on the bell pull. She’d have the suite fitted out the best the staff could at this late hour. In the morning, when hell came calling, she’d do what she could to mitigate the worst of it.
A maid appeared, her eyes bleary with sleep. “Did you need something, Miss Thompson?”
Oh, the list was long. Lavinia managed a tight smile. “Actually, yes. I’d like the countess suite fitted up, for His Lordship and I have married tonight. I’m the new countess of Laughton, and for the foreseeable future, these will be my rooms.” As the maid gawked, she went on. “I’ll have my belongings as well as my maid brought over in the morning. Afterward, I’ll meet with the housekeeper and butler.”
“Right away, Miss… I mean Your Ladyship.” The maid scampered away with wide eyes and a blanched countenance.
Lavinia sighed. In a few minutes, the gossip would catch fire through the household. She didn’t care what the servants thought of her. For that matter, she didn’t give a fig for the opinions of the ton. This was merely one more step up the ladder to the life she’d always dreamed of living. Tomorrow she would make inroads into laying down the foundations to help other women like herself.
And if Laughton didn’t like that, he could go to the devil. This was his fault, but she wasn’t stupid. She’d use the advantage for as long as she could, for she had responsibilities just like him.